She can't tell if it's night or day when she wakes again, but she hardly cares, her mind is so fuzzy, she feels detached from her body. She thought what happened might have been a dream, but one look around and she realizes she's still here. She struggles to sit up.
The drawer in the door is pushed to her side of the door.
Inside is a sandwich, a metal tumbler of water, and an apple. She drinks down the water greedily, she has no idea how long she's been here but her body is telling her she's parched.
Adrian appears at the little window and she hears the sound of the drawer being pulled from the hallway side. He pushes it back on her side. "If you don't eat, I can't let you out."
She has no idea what that means, but even as uninterested as she is in food at that moment, she realizes she needs to do something to get out of the room. She stuffs the sandwich down her throat and takes quick bites all the way around the core of the apple, tossing it in the drawer when she's done.
She stands at the door a bundle of nerves, shifting from foot to foot, while the mantra in her head continues to strum out, what happened to my dad? Why am I here? What's going on?
Finally, Adrian returns, checks the drawer again, she can hear him laughing with someone down the hall. He looks at her through the glass.
"Okay Karen, you gonna play ball?" She feels the humiliation setting in as she shakes her head, anything to get out.
"Go sit on the bed." As soon as she does she hears him turn the lock and push the door open, she walks through, getting a first glance at the elusive hallway. There are doors on both ends, locked doors.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo
He leads her, stiffly holding her upperarm, to a day room where a variety of people are playing games, watching television, reading. She stands glancing around until the gray-haired nurse that first roused her appears, she wonders again how long she's been here.
"Come on Karen, honey, you must need the restroom by now," she takes Kate gently by the elbow to an open door, beyond it, open stalls with no doors for privacy.
When she finishes, she wanders out to find the woman waiting for her. She wonders if she should try with this woman.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Marla."
"Marla, where am I?"
"St. Catherine's Hospital," Marla responds directly.
"What city? What state?"
"We're in White Plains, New York."
"What happened to me?"
Marla looks sympathetic, "I think the doctor will want to talk about that with you. Why don't you join Sarah here and read a bit." Kate looks at Sarah, who is most certainly not reading, but is seemingly staring at the pages of a magazine.
"Marla, I need to use a phone."
"That will be up to the doctor. Here, sit down." She fairly pushes Kate on to the couch and Kate decides it would be easier to observe the room if she isn't standing in the middle of it.
She notices more people in pink scrubs in a little booth in one corner of the room, locked doors at both ends, and a thin, but visible layer of chicken-wire between the panes of glass to the outside world.
What the hell has she gotten herself into?
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
A tall, thin man in pink scrubs eventually approaches her, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Karen, Dr. Phillips would like to talk with you."
He leads her though the locked door (he has a card key), and into an office. She hesitates a moment wondering where the hallway ahead of her may lead. This may be her chance to make a run for it. The tall man's hand on her shoulder tells her it's too late, and he leads her into a large room with a few chairs. Phillips is occupying the largest.
"Karen, come, have a seat," he gestures to the chair across from him, "How are you feeling?"
"Please tell me what is going on," she says as she sits.
"What do you remember?"
"I don't know, I think I remember leaving my apartment to come to work, but I don't know when that was, and then I woke up here."
"You don't remember seeing your father?"
"No. I . . ." she cocks her head, "no, why would I see my father?"
"You don't remember going to his house?"
"I went to my dad's house? The cabin? I haven't been there since last summer, why would I . . ."
"Karen, I'm going to tell you some very painful things, but you need to hear them so you can start to move beyond them, okay?"
Anything to put the pieces of the mystery together.
"The police brought you here two days ago, you were covered in blood." She swallows, not liking the sound of this.
"You were at your dad's house. He was bleeding from a knife wound."
"Is he okay? Can I see him?"
"I'm afraid he passed away."
Her eyes grow wide, fear, horror, surprise engulf her. "What?"
"The police brought you here because you hurt him, Karen."
"What?" She can't breathe, can't speak.
"Do you remember why you were angry with him?"
"My dad? Jim Beckett? Are you saying I killed my dad?" She is so confused.
"Take a deep breath."
This can't be true.
"I need to make a phone call."
"Who do you want to call Karen?"
"My name is not Karen, you have me confused with someone else. I need to call my partner, Richard Castle, please let me use the phone, we can fix this."
"Richard Castle the author?" Damn, she already knows where this is headed, it even sounds crazy in her own ears.
"Yes, but he consults with my department at the NYPD. We work together, please, let me call him."
She sees the shift in his eyes, he's amused.
Kate Beckett is angry, but certain that any move she makes is being monitored. Her eyes flash frustration.
Phillips suddenly sits forward in his chair, "I think that's enough for today. Try to relax, we'll work this out."
She wonders what there really is to work out, how much of what he's telling her is true.
She's escorted back through locked doors to her room. Adrian pops into view a few minutes later, sliding another metal cup of water through the door, next to it, a tiny paper cup with a pink pill.
"Dr. Phillips says this will help you sleep."
There's a moment of decisiveness, if she wants to find out what's really going on, she's going to need to work on her act, she palms the pill as she pretends to knock it back, chasing it with a sip of water.
"Let me see inside your mouth," he says through the door, and she opens wide so he can check. Satisfied, he moves away.
As soon as he's gone, she considers the room. The bed is on a simple "H" frame, a headboard and footboard of rough plastic with slots, holding up a flat piece with a mattress on top. She quickly pulls the mattress from the frame and pulls the bed to stand upright on its footboard. She climbs to the top, balancing her weight and checking what's above the ceiling tiles. There are no barriers here. If she works this right, she can get herself into the hallway at least. She jumps down at about the same time the lights go out.
Even better.
The light from the hallway is still on, but the room is dark enough to enable her boldness. She moves the bed to a better position closer to the door and climbs it again, slipping the ceiling tile out of place and sticking her head into the space. She can definitely do this.
She lifts herself enough to pull open a ceiling tile that is over the hallway and is able to see down. She take a moment to hike her weight off the bed and onto the head trimmer. Looking down for an opportunity, she can see a metal cart at the end of the hall with the same metal cups and various trays on it, an older woman is pulling items from one of the drawers close to the exit, wet rag in hand. She's humming some tune, no doubt harmonizing with whatever she's hearing through her earbuds. Her back is to Kate's end of the hall.
She moves with stealth, drops from the height of the ceiling like a cat, which surprises her, it's a long way down. She runs quietly to the cart and crouches into the space below, hoping the woman doesn't hear the sound of her weight bowing the metal shelf.
If she does, she goes back to work. Kate closes her eyes, hoping if she can't see them, they can't see her as she's wheeled through the locked door and back into the day room. She slips from the cart as soon as it stops, crouching behind a long couch.
The staff members are amusing themselves, laughing and talking in the small room. The door propped open allowing their voices to spill out into the darken room she waits in.
She can see a phone sitting on the counter just inside the window. Two pink uniforms are sitting nearby engaged in conversation, too close to get to that phone.
She waits.
Suddenly there's a commotion and it takes a moment for her to realize that someone has discovered her room. The tall escort from earlier is yelling at the women closest to the phone.
"Call security, we have a breach, Karen Sanders, room 211. Code Silver."
One of the women uses the elusive phone to repeat the information and both of them leave the booth headed for whatever stations are required in their protocol. It's her chance.
She flies into the tiny office, snatches the phone off the counter and falls to floor, out of sight of anyone passing by the booth. She's having a hard time keeping her hand steady as she dials his number.
The call doesn't go through.
She tries hitting another button, selecting another line.
This time it rings.
"Obstetrics."
She hangs up, she must be dialing extensions instead of an outside line.
She dials nine and then the number, this time it rings. Only it goes to voicemail.
"Castle, it's me. St. Catherine's Hospital, White Plains, come get me, they think . . ."
And then there's a pink uniform in front of her. She tries scrambling out of her place under the counter, but he's already on her, pinning her to the floor. She breaks free, only to stumble into a woman, who grabs at her shirt long enough for the man recover and tackle her. In a moment there are three of them on her.