A/N: It has been ages since I have published anything, and I suck for it. Sorry. I know I have quite a few unfinished stories and, if I can't promised when they will be done, they will. Be. Finished. Just, please bare with me. In the meantime, I want to say thank you to all who still read and PM me, and review the stories. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I am still not sure what to think of the season 6 finale...I expected a twist but, even as a writer, I did not see THAT ending coming. There is cruel, and cruel...

I don't if this is going to be a oneshot, or more. I have labelled it as 'complete' for now. This hasn't been edited, and English is my second language so every typo is mine, and accidental.


She is still sitting on the same spot Martha left her when she had to take a call, twenty minutes ago.

Slumped in the large, cream lover seat, hands clasped tightly on her lap, head down, Kate is still. Too still. For a moment Martha's heart leaps in her throat, briefly worrying if her daughter-in-law is even breathing anymore, until she catches the slight shivering of her frail shoulders.

She has been shaking ever since they had to drag her away from the crash scene.

She has stopped talking to anyone after they had tried to console her one too many times, and yelled at them to leave her alone until her voice broke.

She has stopped even trying to leave her bedroom after Gates forbade her to come into the precinct, that she was putting her on medical leave for the time being.

She has stopped making eye contact with anyone after Esposito and Ryan had to pick her up at the Hamptons police station for attempting to take point on the investigation. Again.

She either lies in bed, or sits in the chair.

For the first time in her life, all fight has left Kate Beckett.

Her hair are limp on her head, the elegant curls now flat and oily from too many people running their hands in them in a vain comforting gesture. Her wedding gown has long been replaced with one of Castle's maroon shirts.

Her delicate features barren of all makeup makes her seem barely out of her teenage years. The sharpness of her cheekbones and hollowness of her cheeks reminds Jim of Johanna's mother, weeks before she passed.

The hauntedness of her eyes almost makes everyone grateful she refuses to establish eye contact with them.

Martha's heart breaks all over again at how small she looks in that shirt. Lost. She somewhat perks up when she notices Kate's bare legs, knowing she had been wearing leggings when she had left her. To the older woman, the abandoned pants she finds on the bathroom floor isn't yet another sign of her daughter-in-law's near catatonic grief. It was a success, if a small one, that Kate had it in herself to get up on her own, even if it was just to use the bathroom.

Baby steps.

As Martha approached slowly, a glass of milk in one hand, and a small plate of fruit salad in the other, the older woman found herself craving a soothing, chilled glass of red wine, but she immediately dismissed the idea. Upon bringing Kate back home with them, Alexis had emptied the loft from any remaining alcohol.

As much as she craved her daily glass, eh, bottle of wine, Martha couldn't deny Jim Beckett's anxious request.

They had all seen the way Kate had fixed that bottle of scotch when they had first got back from the Hamptons.

Martha carefully places the fruit plate and the glass on the small table nearby and sits besides Kate before softly rubbing a soothing hand down Kate's arm to let her know she was back.

If Kate accepted her father's safe embrace and tolerated everyone else's touch, the only person's attention and touch she craved was Martha's, at the woman's biggest surprise. It had never truly dawned on the actress just how much her son's fiancé loved and looked up to her, until they had gotten back from the Hamptons' police station and no one, even Jim, could get Kate to listen to them.

It was only when Martha grabbed her hand and cupped her face, forcing eye contact with her that Kate had stopped. Stopped struggling, stopped shouting…stopped everything.

All adrenaline temporarily gone from her, she had let herself be guided by Martha into the main bathroom where, with Lanie's help, they painfully peeled her mother's wedding gown from her body. She had obediently sat on the edge of the tub while Martha undid her hair, and gently cleaned her face from all trace of makeup.

Neither she nor Alexis had realized just how badly she loved Rick until she was forced to stand on her own.

Martha is pulled from her thoughts as Kate's shaking frame leans into hers. She feels herself tearing up as she glances down at Kate's hands, and at how desperately the younger woman is clutching at her wedding band.

Wordlessly Martha wraps an arm around Kate's waist and brings her closer, engulfing her in a strong, motherly hug.

Martha says nothing when, a moment later, a pair of slim arms sneaks their way around her back. Or when tears dampens her neck and shirt. She only tightens her hold on her daughter-in-law as she finally lets herself go and silent sobs wracks her whole body for the first time in three days.

It has only been three days.

It has already been three days.


Thank you for reading. Thoughts?