"First he won't be able to deal with it. It's going to take everything he's got to just put one foot in front of the other and get through the day."
Kate Beckett 4x22 'Undead Again'
There were hints of it in 'Rise' (4x01) but, to me, it just didn't seem like Kate was struggling all that much. Not until 'Kill Shot' (4x09). It could just have been because of how Kate is such a private person and hates to let anyone, even Castle, see her as anything other than completely able to handle whatever life throws her way. At least until 'Always.'
So it got me thinking. What if Kate hadn't been able to keep it together? What if we got to see evidence that it took everything she had just to get through each day?
Because my knowledge of PTSD is pretty much limited to what we saw on the show, I've also added OCD to her condition. I don' t know for sure how prevalent it is for someone with PTSD to have more than one anxiety disorder, but I DO know that it is quite common for someone with OCD to have other conditions combined with it. So if there is anything that leaves someone thinking, 'Someone with PTSD would not be reacting like this' I can assure you that this is EXACTLY what someone with OCD might experience.
When I first mentioned this idea to EvaKAlways, she was very excited about it. So I decided this story would be her VERY (a little over a month) belated birthday present. I hope it has at least some of what she was imagining when we Skyped about this story back in June….
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Castle. But on the plus side, there are less than 50 days to go before the season 8 premiere! Woohoo!
And there are at least a couple times where I use dialogue from 'Rise' so obviously, those words aren't mine, either.
She doesn't know what this is. What she does know is that it's not normal. Not for her. Probably not for anyone.
As soon as the anesthesia had worn off, it started.
Everyone came under suspicion.
Everyone.
Doctors. Nurses. Members of the hospital staff that she didn't know, or care, what their job description was.
It was a relief when Josh came in. For some reason, the whatever it was, went away.
Except he wasn't who she wanted to see.
Her father came in next. She felt a little something unpleasant when she saw him, but she was able to shove it aside. He was her father. She was in no danger from him.
Finally, finally, Castle came to see her. Instead of the relief she expected, pure terror flooded her. He was talking-when was Castle not talking?-but she could hardly focus on the words.
Kate, I love you.
"You don't remember?"
Kate clenched her fists, hoping she was able to keep her tone calm.
He wanted her to talk about it?
They never talked about anything and this is what he wanted to start with?
I love you, Kate.
How could those whispered words feel like an anchor while looking into the eyes of the man who had spoken them made her want to run screaming into the night?
Wait. Was it night?
Was it dark?
No, it wasn't dark. She could see sunlight.
But the sniper had shot her in broad daylight. So even that wouldn't protect her.
It wouldn't protect anyone.
She need Castle to go.
Now.
Castle had barely shut the door behind him when her first tear fell.
Time didn't help, except to let her be able to put a name to it: fear.
It was her consent companion. Sleep was her only escape and even with her injury, she got very little of that.
Every thought of Castle brought with it a sharp stab of longing, followed by a tidal wave of fear.
It made no sense. She had nothing, nothing, to fear from Castle. He was the one that tackled her to the ground, saved her from the sniper's bullet.
Kate, I love you.
Only when she replayed those words-only those words-did the fear recede. At least a little.
But then the image of his face would pop into her mind, looking down at her with tear-filled eyes and the longing, swiftly followed by the fear, would come back.
It was a vicious cycle she couldn't escape.
She had to call him. She was being discharged from the hospital at any time and then heading off to her father's cabin. She needed to talk to him before she left.
She tapped the button to bring up her contact list, almost dropping the phone when she saw his picture on the small screen with his name directly underneath. Once the expected tidal wave of fear had receded as much as it was going to, with shaking hands she hit the call button.
Her stomach rolled at the first ring.
She wasn't sure she could do this.
It was when she heard his voice-relieved, concerned, hopeful-that she knew.
She couldn't.