Chapter Ten

"Something smells amazing," Rick commented as he entered the kitchen.

Kate rolled her eyes playfully, "You're such a caveman."

"Am not. I'm just in tune with my stomach. Very much so. So what are you cooking?"

"Spaghetti," she replied.

He looked at her hopefully.

"Yeah," she replied, "Go set the table or somehow make yourself useful somehow, though."

"Ok," he agreed, and soon enough, they were sitting down to their meal.

"So what time are we doing to the city tomorrow?" he asked, thinking about the brunch they were having with her father.

"Around 11:30. Does that work?"

"Yeah," he took a bite of food, "Oh man, you really know how to cook."

"Maybe you just know how to eat," she smirked.

"No, seriously, Kate, this is really good. So did you miss the fact that most people our age eat pop tarts and ramen?"

She made a face, "Geez, Castle, what kind of combination is that?"

"Not together."

"Just because the likes of you perpetrate that stereotype about college students doesn't mean it's true."

"Hey, I'll have you know that I cook real food."

"Really?"

"Yep. I've perfected something called a smorelette."

She laughed, "You know what, I'm not just not going to ask about that one."

"Oh Kate," he grinned, "You have no idea."

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Come Saturday, they were seated a café in the city, waiting for her father. She was sitting next to him at their table, and he could feel how tense she was.

"Kate," he said.

"Castle," she bit her lip, "I feel like I'm having déjà vu."

"No," he reassured, knowing what she was thinking, "You don't know that this is like last time."

"Then where is he, Castle?" she sounded half worried and half exasperated, "My dad was supposed to be here a half hour ago, and he's never late."

"Why don't we head over to your place? Maybe he got delayed there."

"Yeah, ok."

They stood up and left, leaving plans for brunch behind.

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They arrived at her family's brownstone not long after their hurried exit from the cafe. She put her key in the lock and opened the door with Rick close behind her.

"Dad?" she called out.

They surveyed the empty front room. There was no sign that anything was amiss. Kate went upstairs, and Rick went into the kitchen.

"Castle! He's here in my mom's office."

Hearing the worry in her voice, he sprinted up the stairs. He saw Kate's father, slumped over and seemingly unconscious in a desk chair.

"He won't wake up, and he smells like he's been drinking ," she was unaffected now, almost in shock, "I'm gonna call 911 to be safe."

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Rather than ride in the ambulance with her father, she and Rick took his car to the hospital.

"You sure you don't want to go with them?" he asked, giving her a concerned look.

"Castle," she said shortly as she shot him an angry stare.

"Sorry," he said. He should have known better than to question her at a time like this – it definitely wouldn't help the already difficult situation that the day had consisted of thus far, and she didn't need anything else to further stress her.

"I'd rather not see him like that," she offered a few minutes later, "And it's not like I can say anything to him in his current state."

He nodded.

"Rick," she said, her voice breaking, "It's like one thing is piling on top of another and I'm so scared to see what will happen next."

Seeing the look on her face, he pulled over and hugged her tightly as she cried on his shoulder.

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"I found the vending machines," Rick said a few hours later as he reentered the hospital waiting room. He had been hungry and Kate had looked hungry, so he'd set off in search of food.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her a granola bar.

"Of course," he replied, "Any news?"

She nodded, "They're treating him for alcohol poisoning."

"Geeze, Kate. I'm sorry."

She shrugged, looking thoughtful. There was a pained look on her face.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"I've called my aunt, and I'll probably be here really late, so you don't have to stay," she told him.

"I'm definitely staying," he replied, "I don't want to leave you here."

"Thank you…for having my back."

"Always."

He wanted to ask her how she was but was worried about pushing her. Kate had seemed so closed off when they had first met, and he didn't want to risk her trust by pressuring her. And anyway, he already had an idea of how she was doing by the look on her face – the sad expression had been there ever since she'd broken down earlier in his car.

Rather than saying anything further, he took her hand in his. She was his housemate and his friend, and he wouldn't let her face her troubles alone.

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He managed to wake up before her the next morning. They hadn't arrived home until nighttime, and she was probably exhausted. In all honesty, he was surprised that he was awake, but seeing as he had been lying in bed, staring at his ceiling for what felt like hours, he'd decided to get up.

The quiet of the morning reminded him of something that he needed to do. And it wasn't that he didn't want to do it, but he was somewhat nervous about the outcome. Something about the silence and almost emptiness of that morning made it difficult to put things out of his mind.

He picked up the phone and dialed Kyra's number. When it went to voicemail, he began to speak.

"Hey, it's me. I just thought I'd give you a call. If you still want space, that's fine. I don't want to pressure you…like I said before, I'll always wait for you. Just…could you call me? I guess I just want to say hi, to you and not your voicemail."

Satisfied with the message he left, he glanced at the clock. Still plenty of time to make breakfast for Kate and himself. She had taken the lead on dinner the other night, and so he wanted to surprise her with food that morning. They were sort of like yin and yang; they balanced each other out. And he was currently planning on making it his mission to take her mind off things with the perfection that was the smorelette.