Chapter 4

-Home sweet home? -


"Can I come in?"

Her captain doesn't wait for their response. He steps into the room, without saying anything else. The look on his face makes Kate squirm in her bed. She knows she disobeyed their main rule - no operations without backup. But that day… She couldn't just stay and do nothing. The need to get into action and do all she could to protect her city took control of her, and she royally messed up.

"Of course, Sir. Lanie was just leaving."

The ME nods and stands up, walking out the door without saying another word.

"Hmm. That's it? This guy must be something else for her to leave without complaint."

Kate just ignores him, but a slight smirk curves the corner of her lips.

Roy stands beside the bed for a while, staring at her; his expression neutral, unreadable.

"Wow" she hears Alex whisper. "If this guy plays poker, I bet he never goes home empty."

Oh, yes. And she got to learn it first hand. More than once. But now her thoughts are as far from poker as ever.

"So, Detective Beckett." Montgomery finally starts. "I won't waste my breath reminding you things you already know."

His speech is calm and well-paced and it feels much worse than the storm she has anticipated. She expected yelling, and reproving looks and maybe even suspension, but instead, he just takes a deep breath, and continues, his voice steady, but each word making her cringe inside, even though he is not shouting at her.

"I'm not going to circle around this room, with foam at my mouth, reminding my best detective the rules she should know by heart already. I will not call you reckless or irresponsible or tell you how extremely lucky you are to be breathing right now, because defusing a bomb is neither your damn job, nor your responsibility!"

"You were trying to stop the bomb? What are you, some kind of female Rambo?"

Kate has to bite her lip to stop herself from scoffing in front of her seriously aggravated boss. This guy needs to learn what timing is.

Roy pauses, and she sees so much more than anger then. It's disappointment and fear at the same time - the odd mixture she had experienced herself a long time ago.

"I just expect you to remember all this the next time you decide to go rogue. If not for yourself, at least for the people who care about you." He pauses again to massage his temple and take a deep breath. "If that bomb hadn't been defective…"

"I know, Sir. I'm sorry." She apologizes, looking him straight in the eye, meaning every word.

"You scared me sick, Beckett." He sighs. "So, yeah – It's good to see you alive."

She smiles softly and nods. "Thank you, Captain."

"You are welcome. "

He finally gives her a smirk, leaning his back on the nearest wall, the tension between them slowly dissipating.

"Now, how do you feel? What do the doctors say?"

She huffs. "What everybody here keeps saying. That I'm really lucky-"

"Well, you are." Montgomery adds, arching an eyebrow at her. "What else?"

"That I should take it easy for a couple of months, at least –"

"Uh-huh."

"They also recommended physical therapy and introduced me to a psychiatrist."

The captain nods. "Fine. Don't see a problem there." he shrugs.

"No. No problem, Sir. I just thought... I'd like to get back to work as soon as-"

"Work? Are you kidding, Beckett? I'm sorry, but that's not an option for you. Not until you are back to 100%."

She knows he's right. She can't even stand on her feet right now if not for the crutches, and she hurts all over; she just can't imagine being out of the precinct for more than a couple of weeks, and that's already a long time.

She knows it's in vain, but she has to try. "I didn't mean the field part, just maybe desk du-."

"That's not possible either. Psych eval, remember?"

"But, Sir-" She tries again. A last desperate attempt to prove her point.

"No buts, Beckett. You've gone too far this time, so you'll have to deal with the consequences."

"Okay, fine…" She huffs defeated. "Whatever you say, sir." She sighs.

"Good." Roy chuckles. "That said, I don't want you in my precinct until you are fully functioning." He adds, winking at her and stepping towards the door. "Take care, detective."

With this, he leaves, closing the door after himself, only to poke his head back inside five seconds later.

"Oh, by the way – Evelyn says 'hi'"

She doesn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed, the cheer in Alex's voice not helping at all.

"Well, he is fun. A bit scary, but still fun."

She can't wait to get out of here.


"Maybe I'm dead." Alex chimes, distracting her from her reading for the thousandth time.

"What?"

"Maybe I am dead." He repeats.

Kate closes her book and huffs. "Yeah, I heard that…" She blurts annoyed. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Well, I can't be seen, or heard, I don't have a body… I am probably just a ghost only you can hear." He says, his voice lowering. "Like that TV show. Remember? 'The Ghost Whisperer'"

"Really? You think this is like TV, Alex? Cause let me tell you, the way you annoy me feels pretty real."

There's a knock on the door and she smirks, putting her book on the side table to her right. "That must be my dad, so you better shut up, ghost."

"Whatever you say, Melinda…"

"Katie! Her Dad strides in with a broad grin on his face. "I just talked to your doctor!"

"And?!" she sits up, anticipating some obviously good news.

"They are discharging you tomorrow morning. Pretty good, huh?" his eyebrows raise on his forehead and fall abruptly when he notices her frown. "What's wrong?"

"Why can't I leave today?" She asks fretfully. "They are not going to do anything to me anyway. I can take my meds at home, there's no need for me to be here any longer."

"Katie, the doctor said that another day under their watch wouldn't hurt. Your ribs are still tender and you are way too weak for those crutches yet." Jim explains, his voice soft and patronizing, something that he knows always makes his daughter mad.

Kate purses her lips and raises an eyebrow at him. "Dad, I am not staying here one more day just because. My ribs won't heal magically overnight." She fumes. "And I can handle the crutches perfectly fine, thank you."

"I'm not going to win this, am I?" Her father sighs, shaking his head.

"Nope."

"Fine." Jim complies, at last. "I'm going to find your doctor and get your discharge papers. I'll be right back."

"Cheer up, Melinda. We're going home!"


Martha jabs at the elevator button nervously, willing it to arrive as soon as possible. She needs to get out of this hospital. Now.

It strikes her hard this time, hearing how things seem to have stalled. He's been in a coma for two weeks and there are no changes. His lips twitch from time to time, his eyes move constantly, as if he were dreaming. One of his hands moved the day before, but the doctors said it was normal. Everything is normal, and yet, everything is not.

She's glad she made Alexis go to school this morning. Having her around just to listen to the same discouraging news again would have been the last straw.

She lets out a shaky breath and stiffens when a man stops to wait right beside her. He presses the button again, but he doesn't seem to be as distressed as she is, so she deduces that his rush has nothing to do with the person he was just visiting.

"I just called it." Martha says, courtly. "The damn thing takes the whole day to get up here."

"Yes." He nods, giving her a tight smile. "I know. We've been here for a while."

"Aw…" She assents. "Your wife?"

The man's expression falls, his eyes going dark and his slight smirk erasing from his face. It takes him a second too long to react, but just when Martha is about to ask if he's ok, he answers. "No! No. My… my daughter, actually. She…" He pauses, as if taking his time to think. "Well, she's a cop, so you can figure."

"Oh. Was she shot?" Martha asks, horrified.

The man shakes his head and stabs the button once more. "No. Hit by a car. Well, two cars… It was an accident."

"Oh. My son, too. I think police were involved there, maybe it was the same accident?" She asks intrigued. "When did yours happen?"

"Two weeks ago."

Definitely the same, she thinks. "I hope she gets well soon." Martha tells the man, both stepping into the elevator that has finally arrived.

"Yes, she's leaving today, actually. I have to go get my car so I can take her home." The man explains, putting both hands inside his pockets. "She was supposed to be released tomorrow, but she insisted on leaving today… So stubborn."

Martha laughs softly. "Well, who would want to stay here when it's not strictly necessary, right?"

"Those were her exact words." The man agrees. "What about your son? Is he leaving soon?"

This time it's Martha's smile that fades away, her sight falling to the floor. "No… He's going to be here for a while."

"I see."

The elevator doors open and they both step outside, looking awkwardly at the main door.

"Well, um, nice to meet you…"

"Jim." The man answers, offering his right hand. "Jim Beckett."

She smiles and shakes his hand. "Martha Rodgers."

"I hope you can take your son home soon." Jim wishes, before exiting the building a couple of steps behind her.


The ride home is a freaking odyssey. Traffic is criminal, her dad tries to do small talk all the time and, apparently, the voice in her head wants to join the conversation. It drives her crazy.

Avoiding her dad's hints at her incapacity is hard enough without her unwanted conscience telling her it's true. She needs a break.

After the longest 55 minutes of her life, they finally arrive at her apartment block and she lets out a long sigh. She can't wait to sleep in her bed, or take a shower in her own bathroom, which would be even better without the voyeur hidden in her head.

"Well done, Kate, just one little push, we are almost there! I think..." Alex encourages, making her clench her teeth.

As if on cue, her dad puts a hand on her lower back and nods towards her apartment door, wincing when she grunts in pain. "Easy, Katie, easy. Don't strain yourself too much."

She is using the crutches for the first time, stumbling and tripping on every other step, while her dad hovers around, ready to prevent the fall.

And of course, there's the constant cheerleader she can't possibly get rid of.

"I'm fine, Dad, thanks." she mutters through gritted teeth "Do you have the keys, please?"

Jim opens the door wide and steps inside before her, guiding her towards the couch. She has never been happier to see her home again. Ever.

"Wow, nice place you got here!"

She can't help but smile. The weirdo has manners. And taste.

Encouraged by his words, Kate keeps going, ignoring her dad and heading to the kitchen stove. Unfortunately, one of her crutches chooses this moment to lose its balance, and she would definitely have ended up on the floor, if her father were not fast enough to catch her.

"Wow! That was close!"

"Where do you think you are going?!" Her father demands, breathlessly.

"The kitchen." She huffs. "I wanted to make some tea, at least."

"You must really like tea if you're willing to die for it..." Alex squeaks.

Jim frowns and snorts. "I can make the tea, Katie. After I help you to settle down on the couch. Come on."

She feels like a little girl being scolded by her father. It's ridiculous. She's 31, she can take good care of herself. "Thanks, Dad, but I can walk on my own. After all, I'm not a complete invalid!"

Her eyes stab her father's and he finally concedes, stepping away from her. "As you like it. I'll go make the tea." Jim adds, heading to the kitchen, clearly hurt.

"He needs it even more than you do, you know." Alex scolds, and she can see his faceless form shaking his head at her disappointedly.

Kate humphs indignantly, even though she knows he is right. Her dad needs to feel needed. He just wants to help. The thought makes her resume her efforts in reaching the kitchen. Both to apologize, and have a peaceful talk with a cup of tea.

She sends Jim away after a couple of hours, claiming that she needs to rest and that she will be capable of doing simple things without his constant supervision. He leaves, reluctantly, accepting a promise from her to be more careful.

Once he's out the door, she relaxes on her couch with the second cup of tea and sighs. Alone at last.

"Okay, so… what's next?"

Or maybe not...


During the next few days her home becomes a nightmare come true. She can't walk, she can't shower properly without help and even getting in and out of bed is just plain difficult.

Lanie comes by every day after work and helps her with the shower part, which is actually nice, until she starts interrogating her about Josh and she has to practically kick her out, every single night. Her dad brings her food during his lunch breaks at work and insists on eating with her, just so she doesn't have to do it on her own, although she suspects he's the one who needs the company. And the boys keep calling and dropping by whenever they have a spare minute to talk to her about cases she can't work.

She's never alone. Ever. Not even when she is.

Her imaginary friend, as she has started to think of him, never stops talking. She recognizes that the guy can tell some amazing stories, but most of the time she just wants him to stop being imaginary, just so she can put her hands around his neck and squeeze.

It frustrates her to no end. She can't control it, she can't make it stop and that drives her insane. She just wants him gone before she starts going crazy for real. Although, maybe it's already too late for that?

She can't wait for physical therapy to start, so she can let out all that pent up frustration. At least she will have something to do with her time, besides playing scrabble with a sore loser of a ghost.


A/N: This one is a bit shorter, but life's been a b**** this week. Stacy got sick, I've been working crazy hours and my dog died on Monday, so excuse the delay and the shorter chapter. Thank you!

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