This is story is AU and is set two years after the death of Johanna Beckett. It may seem a little weird, but please stick with it. It is sad and deals with some pretty heavy and sensitive issues but I think it's worth writing about it.
Warnings: Underage drinking, alcoholism, drugs and other things that I haven't written yet.
Disclaimer: I'm changing canon; these characters definitely don't belong to me
Dark Spirit
Chapter One
The musty odour of stale beer permeated the air and there was the crunch of peanut shells underfoot; neon lights flickered overhead. Kate Beckett swirled the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass, intermixed with the ever-melting cubes of ice. Sitting at the bar was a nightly routine for her and whisky was her poison of choice. She wasn't too fussy on what brand it was, just as long as it could be downed in one mouthful. If only her mother could see her now, she would always think to herself. Barely twenty-one and drinking her life into oblivion; one-night-stand after one-night-stand. Kate tipped back her head and swallowed the last of her drink, slamming the glass back on the bench. She looked up at the bar tender and lifted her finger to order another drink. He walked over to her, but not before grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Last one before I cut you off," he told Kate firmly and then pouring the dark spirit into her glass. Kate only rolled her eyes at him before staring at her tumbler briefly, willing it to remain full. She picked up the whisky chugged it down, threw down some notes and slid off the stool she had been sitting in for the last four hours. Kate grabbed her jacket off the bench next to her and stumbled towards the exit. Walking down the dark alley, Kate made her way to the next bar, the cool autumn air sobering her up a little.
"Jack Daniels on the rocks, two fingers," she ordered from the bar tender before dropping herself down on a stool at the opposite end of the bar from the only other person in there. When she was handed her drink, instead of sculling it, she decided to nurse it in her hands. Kate poked at the ice that bobbed in the glass and swirled the liquid around with her finger. She took a sideways glance at the man down from her; he was handsome and looked as good as she felt. Picking up her glass, she moved next to him.
"This seat taken?" she asked him.
The man looked up, his piercing blue eyes were empty and hollow; "It is now."
"Thanks." Kate sat down and took a swig from her drink. "I'm Kate."
"Rick." He too took a mouthful of his own poison before turning his head to face her. "And what brings you out here on a lonely Wednesday night, Kate?"
She continued to swirl her drink around, "Life," she took another sip, "and death. You?"
"To numb the pain. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until I realised it still hurt."
Kate nodded, "I'll drink to that." She finished what was in her glass and motioned to the bar tender for two more drinks. The pair picked up their now full glasses and tapped them together, "To numbing the pain."
"Cheers." Rick's phone went off as he finished what was in his glass, flipping it open he swore. He stood up hastily and grabbed his coat, "I'm sorry, Kate, I have to go. Thanks for the company tonight." He pulled out a card from his top pocket and handed it to Kate, "If you're ever lonely on a Wednesday, give me a call."
Kate pocketed the card and watched him leave, tripping slightly over his own feet, evidence of his own insobriety. She let out a heavy sigh before making her own way out of the bar. Hailing a cab, she hopped in and gave her address; she didn't want to go home to her cold, empty apartment, but at least there she could continue drinking and then crash into her own bed, instead of someone else's. She was growing tired, but her downward spiral out of control had yet to hit rock bottom. She ran her fingers through her long, wavy tendrils and looked out at the city as it passed her by. Rock bottom. She wondered what the signs would be when she finally got there. She thought about where she was now, and how she got to that point.
Kate stood stoically as she watched them lower her mother's coffin into the ground and cover it with a mixture of dirt, snow and flowers that mourners placed on top of it. She wouldn't let the tears that were welling fall down her cheeks. Her father stood rigid beside her, eyes focused on the coffin in front of him. The father and daughter pair surrounded by friends who imparted their embraces and condolences before filing out of the cemetery, leaving Kate and Jim alone with their thoughts.
That night Kate lay awake in her bed, reliving the moment when her life fell apart; her unshed tears from the funeral now cascaded down her face. Not hearing any sounds coming from her father's bedroom, she grabbed her coat and shoes and made her way downstairs to where the alcohol cupboard stood. Unlocking it quietly, she pulled out her father's aging whisky before heading out into the night; her footsteps illuminated by the street lamps above her.
Kate made her way to Central Park; she knew it wasn't the safest part of town at night, but she didn't care. Sitting down on the nearest bench, Kate cracked open the bottle and put the rim to her lips. Tilting her head back, she took a couple gulps of the amber liquid, feeling the burn as it flowed down her throat. It was the strangest sensation and her gag reflex kicked in. As quickly as the alcohol went down, it came straight back up again. Placing the bottle on the ground at her feet, she heaved and vomited the contents of her stomach in front of her, the emotional turmoil of the day rolling around inside of her.
Wiping her mouth with her jacket sleeve, Kate picked up the bottle again and took another swig to rid her mouth of the rancid taste that was left there. This time the burn remained the same but the liquor stayed down. And so she continued until the bottle was empty. Kate let out a deep breath before pulling herself up off the bench and stumble her way back home. When she got there Kate dived head first into her bed, hoping that her drunken stupor was enough to make her pass out; enough to make her forget the horror. And it did. For that one night. But that wasn't enough; Kate needed to forget forever.
That one night turned into two and the second turned into the next two blurry years. Each day melded into the next and Kate just lived each day by the motions.
The cab pulled up at her block, so she paid the driver and got out and trudged to the front door. It was an older apartment block, so there was no elevator; this meant that she had to drag her sorry drunk ass up four flights of stairs before she could get to her door. She figured it was the universe's way of punishing her for screwing up her life. Kate yanked open her front door and made her way to the cramped kitchen. Opening one of the top cupboards she pulled out a glass before turning to the bench that held all her whisky bottles; grabbing one she moved down the hallway to her bedroom. Kate placed her drink on the table beside her bed before peeling the clothes off her body and making her way into the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, she let the water cascade down her body and the heat warm her; the shower was more comfort to her than any man she had ever had.
Twenty minutes later, Kate walked back into her bedroom, snatched a pair of sweats from the floor and too-big T-shirt and put them on. Sliding into bed, she poured herself a handsome glass of whisky. Having a shower would always sober her up some so she needed that extra glass before she could turn in for the night. Kate opened her drawer and pulled out a packet of pills. She popped one in her mouth and downed it with the whisky. Kate slumped face first into her pillow, willing herself to go to sleep without the nightmares.
So that was chapter one. Let me know what you thought and if you want to see this continued. I have a plan of where I want it to go and it will get a lot more dramatic and angsty before it gets better. But just so you know that it will get better and there will be a happy ending.
Sam
