The 10 Hospitalizations of Alexis Castle

by paramorebrighter

So you don't eat, Alexis? I don't understand. Just eat something. Just a little bit. You won't be fat from just a little food. Eat when you're hungry and stop when you're full, it's all about balance, it's not that hard!

10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer- I don't own Castle, Andrew Marlowe does. Please don't sue me for writing this story! Just having fun playing in the Castle Sandbox! Errors corrected! Thank you for your patience!

---

I finally went out by myself without Dad escorting me everywhere, and I managed to do all my Christmas shopping with my friends this year instead of on Amazon and Target's websites. Kate and Dad agreed to let me take cabs to school and outpatient on my own, they were giving me more freedom.

My weight gained stalled around Christmas. All I could think about was my mother when she called me to tell me she wasn't going to make it to New York, but wanted to know if I'd come to LA to see her.

I felt unsure. She had basically seen me for fifteen minutes and rushed off last Christmas. I remembered how depressed I got after that. I kept on remembering the times I had spent with her that were fun and beautiful and made me feel so special. I wanted to feel that all the time. She was my mother. It still didn't make sense to me why she didn't want me.

Kate took me out to lunch with Lainey a few times and it was nice to see her again. I wanted to continue the ME internship when I was not limping around anymore. It was hard enough to pass my finals on time and keep up with my outpatient treatment. I was beyond relieved when I was done with the semester, though.

I went to Tara's Chanukah Party in her new place down in the Upper East Side. I was so excited, Kate and I went out and bought a dress for it, since I had never been to this apartment. It was dark purple satin material with a wide black belt. The dress had a crew neck, so I did my hair up so I looked a little more like a ballerina. When the cab dropped me off, I entered Tara's building, only to find out that it was a pre-war walk-up. Standing out in the New York City cold, I called Tara. She answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Alexis!" she cried.

"Tara, you didn't tell me your building is a walk-up!"

"You can get up staircases! I'm only on the second floor!"

"I do that by sitting on the steps and lifting myself with my arms to lift my butt. I'm not doing that in a party dress," I said. The dress had been bought this morning and was brand-new. And staircases were usually really disgusting. "I can't make it."

"Alexis, no… Don't go! You're standing outside, I can see you!"

"I'm going back home."

"No! I'll send someone down to carry you up?"

"No, don't," I said. "Don't go out of your way."

"Please? I want you here! I promise! Hey, Ben! Hamich!" She shouted to someone in the apartment. The phone went dead.

Shit. Well, I guess I owed it to her. She, among the rest of my friends, had been taking the time to be there for me. I, in turn, tried to be there for them, too. A moment later, I saw Ben Haversham standing on the entry steps staring at me.

"Hi, Alexis," he finally said after we stared at each other for a long, long time. He was at Tara's party. Which meant he was there. And there would be no escaping him. I couldn't go. Not now. Could this be a little more humiliating?

"Hi," I finally blurted out. "I was just hailing a taxi."

"No, don't," he said. "Let me help you up."

"Alexis!" Tara cried, coming out of the building behind Ben. "What's the matter?"

I felt like a deer in the headlights. I had never told my friends how devastated I was when Ben rejected me.

"Please, let me help you up," Ben said, reaching a hand out for me.

I knew I had to go, I couldn't say no without looking like a freak like the night before I hurt my knee. Tara ran up and hugged me. "Come on, it's cold out here!"

I had to do it. Ben slipped and arm around my back and under my knees, lifting my feet off the ground. I felt my cheeks burn. Could this be anymore embarrassing? Even his touch was giving me chills and making me hot at the same time. He smelled like gin and limes and something woodsy. Tara grabbed my crutch and the present of manischewitz wine I brought as we ascended the narrow staircase.

"I heard about your knee," Ben said. "I'm sorry. I busted my knee senior year in track."

"Oh," I said dumbly, nodding. "Yeah. I was on a run and…"

"You look like you're doing better. Are you?"

I felt my cheeks burn. "I guess so. I think I am."

Tara's apartment was a single-bed/bath flat. A menorah had been set up and only two of the candles had been burnt, since this was the third night of Chanukah, and the table was set for eight guests. Jules and Nina were helping in the kitchen with the food preparation, Ben had come along with a few other Jewish guys, who were sitting in the living room, sipping on manischewitz. Jules came up to me and thrust a cup of wine into my hand and hugged and kissed me when Ben set me down.

"The last guest is here!" Tara announced. "Alexis, this is my boyfriend Hamich and I know Charles and Noah from temple. Everyone, this is Alexis Castle, one of my oldest and dearest friends from Marlowe Prep. And Alexis, you already know Ben."

"It's nice to meet you all," I said, although sound was filtered into my ears like through a tunnel. I felt hot all over. The other guys offered to let me take a seat on the couch until the food was ready. They were all young professionals, too, and they were under the impression (from Tara and my other friends) that I was volunteering part-time and going to school part-time due to my knee injury. I ignored Ben to the best of my ability unless he spoke directly to me. I didn't even look in his direction when we were playing dreidl on the coffee table.

Tara had us set up at the table; I was sitting beside Ben, of course. I did my best through the meal not to pay attention him and had a few more glasses of manischewitz. Ben was really starting to annoy me by ignoring me back.

Tara had made a brisket and latkes along with Matza ball soup and sufganiots for dessert. I was suddenly so angry with Ben by my fourth glass of manischewitz, I realized I hadn't really eaten my food at all, yet. I forked down a few more bites before Hamich turned on the Chanukah Song by Adam Sandler.

We went to watch 8 Crazy Nights while Tara went about clearing the table with Jules. I struggled to the kitchen, holding onto the walls. "Oh my God, Alexis. We could have cut the sexual tension with a knife between you and Ben!" Jules cried.

"By sexual tension, you mean me not talking to him?" I responded. "He's a dick."

"A dick who carried you up the stairs?" Jules asked, arching an eyebrow.

"He lied about his ex to me," I grumbled. "Asshat."

"I like you drunk," Tara remarked. "Why don't you go home with him and get him out of your system?"

I felt my cheeks burn and my stomach broiled. How did I explain I was sexually stunted and had never slept with anyone? Hell, I was still living at home with my parents.

I didn't have to figure out a way, because Tara dropped the dish she was washing against the sink and Jules gasped. "Alexis? All this time? You never cashed in your v-card?"

"Shut up," I growled.

"You abstained from food and sex? That's self-flaggelation!" Jules said.

I face-palmed. "I'm so glad you could all find this out while I'm drunk."

"Well, it makes sense," Tara said. "You've been through so much shit. Why didn't you say anything when you saw Ben was at the party?"

"Because it's your party!" I slurred. "Not mine! And I couldn't leave when you came down for me with Ben!"

"I honestly thought you and Ben deserved a second chance," Tara offered. "That's why I paired you two up at the table."

"Should we have let her drink that much manischewitz?" Jules remarked. "With her low body weight and all?"

I lost my balance suddenly, and Tara caught me in the tiny kitchen. I burst into tears. "Tara, I don't know why I came here," I moaned. "I'm never going to be normal!"

"Oh, honey," she said, hugging me. My stomach gurgled again. "It's going to be okay. Lots of people are virgins until their… thirties… and forties…"

"Name one."

Jules and Tara looked at each other in mild panic.

"Steve Carrell," Jules said.

"Jules!" Tara cried as I burst into tears.

"I'm going to throw up," I whimpered.

Tara dragged me to the bathroom just in time for me to puke up burgundy wine and dinner.

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" Hamich asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Tara yelled, shutting the door just in time.

I rested my head on the toilet seat and sighed. "Where's Nina?" I asked quietly. Nina's parent's place was only a block from Dad's loft.

"Watching the movie. Do I need to call a cab for you?" Tara asked, wiping my face.

"Yeah," I muttered.

Tara called Nina to tell her that she needed to call a cab for me. Nina had other plans tonight and wasn't going home immediately. She came back and told us that there was a cab on it's way in the next half hour.

"Come on, let's wash your mouth out. I think I have an extra toothbrush if you want to use it."

"I'd like that," I admitted as she helped me stand up. "God, I make a terrible drunk, don't I?"

"Well, I'm a bad Jew, I never go to temple except to meet guys," Tara offered, getting an unused toothbrush out for me.

"Stop being so nice, Tara," I said. "I don't deserve it."

"I can't help it, I love you a lot."

"I ruined your party," I mumbled.

"This isn't ruining my party," Tara said. "It's just a little bump, that's all."

"I can't hold my wine."

"No, you can't," she chuckled. "Everybody who enjoys alcohol has to learn their limits this way."

I nodded and spat out the toothpaste.

"Next time, I'm closing the bar before you can get this messed up," she said.

I nodded and then saw it; my feeding tube had stained my satin dress. "Oh shit!" I moaned. "My dress!"

Tara grabbed a washcloth and wet it down hurriedly, trying to dab at it. Unfortunately, the stain contained wine, and it only made me cry more. "Don't get upset, I'll go get your coat," she said. "You can cover up with that. These things happen."

There was a knock on the door. "Tara?" Hamich called. "What happened?"

"Alexis just got sick from the manischewitz," she said. "She's going home in a few minutes."

"Do you need anything?"

"Can you get her coat? It's the green one in the bedroom."

A moment later, Tara helped me back out into the front area of her apartment where Nina and Jules were waiting to help me out the door. I was too embarrassed to say good-bye to any of the guys.

"Wait," Nina said, holding my crutch. "How do we get her downstairs?"

"Is everything okay?" Ben asked from the living room. He came in to see them putting my jacket on me.

"She needs to get home," Tara said. "We've called a cab."

"I can get her downstairs," he said.

I had ignored him all night, why was he doing this to me? "I'm fine," I snapped.

"Here," he ignored me, and picked me up again. "Watch your head." He carried me out to the stairwell and brought me down carefully. By the time we were downstairs, the cab was waiting impatiently. The cabbie honked. "I'll make sure she gets home."

"Ben, no-" Jules began before shrieking at how cold the wind was.

"No big deal," he said, carrying me over to the cab. "I don't mind. I was going to go back to Williamsburg tonight anyway after dinner." He stuck me in.

I cringed. Why, why, why was he doing this?

"Ben, you don't have to."

"Yes, I do. I owe you."

"How?" I slurred.

"Shh, get in the car, I'll take you home."

"Bye, Alexis!"my friends chorused. They had their arms wrapped around themselves against the cold. It was so icy and cold that they ran into the building, leaving me with Ben. I gave the cabbie our address and sat back in the seat, holding my stomach.

"I'm sorry I missed you that night," Ben said. "At the bar? When you and your friends were there? A few weeks ago?"

I felt like I had been slapped in the face. Of course. His ex was there, the one he tried to tell me was hooking up back up with him last Christmas.

I nodded, finally feeling angry. "Yeah, I'm glad I skipped out. You're really a jerk, you know that?"

"I'm a jerk?"

"Yes, you told me your ex was coming up to see you, like you were still together with her, and there was she was that night with her fiancee-"

"I lied to protect you," he hissed, his light blue eyes glaring into mine. "I knew your father didn't want me around you-"

"Why did you listen?"

"Do you even understand how much power he has over me?" he hissed back. "He could black-ball me from every major publishing house in New York! All my professors love him and would fail me in a heartbeat if I crossed him! And your stepmother? Don't get me started! I'd love to have the NYPD up my ass for every blunt I smoke!"

"Way to grow some balls, Ben," I snapped. "If you didn't like me, why didn't you just say it to my face? Like a grown-up man? Instead of this bowing down to my father like a pussy?"

I was shocked at myself using that word; it wasn't in my everyday vocabulary, for certain. The look on Ben's face was shock, too. It felt powerful, but at the same time, I felt a little guilty for calling him out like that, it was really crass and not my style. But then again, I didn't.

"Maybe I didn't want to put up with some drunk, bulimic princess who lives off her daddy's credit card," he snapped.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What did you just call me?"

"Tell me Alexis, did you pay for those diamond earrings yourself? And your tuition? What about the bed you slept in last night, huh? Did you pay the rent on that? I'm working my ass off to live in New York and go Columbia, but it's all me. Tell me, have you ever worked hard for something you wanted more than anything?"

That was a punch to the gut. I felt sick to stomach and it gurgled loudly. "Pull over!"

"I can't, Miss!" the cabbie said.

"Did you actually think we could be together when we're so different?" Ben continued. "I've worked my ass off for everything I have. You've just had it all handed to you by your rich, womanizing daddy and you can't stand that he's gotten remarried to a woman who's taking your place!"

"Pull over, I'm going to be sick!" I shouted.

"I'm not going to jeopardize my entire future to be your slumming fuck buddy to rebel against your father. I know what you're doing and I think you're a selfish, manipulative little bitch who doesn't give a shit about anybody but herself." I had never been that torn apart by another person before in my life, and he had done it so quickly. How?

The cabbie finally pulled over. "The meter's still runnin'!"

I opened the door and barfed in the gutter, tears streaming down my face from the force.

"Take this little princess to TriBeCa," Ben ordered, tossing some cash into the front seat. "I'm done with you, Alexis Castle. You can go straight to hell," Ben snapped, getting out of the cab. He pounded his fist on the trunk and walked off.

"Stop!" I shouted.

"What?" the cabbie asked.

"Stop the cab!" I opened the door and clambered out, not caring that Ben had just shoved a wad of cash into the cabbie's section. We were in the middle of Central Park. I sure as hell wasn't letting Ben walk away now after he paid for my cab ride.

"Ben!" I shouted. "You wait!"

Ben whirled around. "Goddamnit, Alexis, how the hell're you gonna get another cab at this hour?"

I heard the cab rolling way. "Shit," I muttered. "I'll take the subway," I snapped. "You can go to hell, too! How dare you call me selfish and manipulative when I'm the one that stays home with my family to help them raise my brothers! You don't even know me!"

"I've got to walk you home, now. Shit, why do you do this kind of crap to me?"

"I can make it to the subway on my own, you know."

"You can actually do that without your father holding your hand?"

I wrapped my pursestrap over my head and across my chest. "I'm not completely helpless, Ben. And I'm pretty damn sure I can do basic shit on my own." I put the crutch under my arm and started towards the closest subway station I could think of. Ben followed me. "You've already proved yourself to be an asshole, why are you trying to walk me home?"

"I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I'm chivalrous enough to make sure you don't put yourself in mortal danger."

"Oh, you claim to be a gentleman?" I sneered. "Right after you tore me down-"

"I tore you down because you're a spoiled brat and you needed to hear it!"

"Oh, fuck off!" my alcohol-loosened tongue was making my vocabulary incredibly colorful. "You're no gentleman!"

"Good," he said. "Then, I won't be a gentleman." He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against a tree and kissed me. It shook me so badly, I dropped my crutch, but his lips were on mine, hungrily pressing down, molding to mine. I was shocked for a moment, his pressure trying to open my mouth to his. His hand let go of my shoulder and cupped my cheek. The surprise made my lips part, and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I had dreamed of kissing him, but this was exceeding my wildest fantasy. God, he was a good kisser. I gave in kissing him back, probably a little too quickly. I hadn't kissed anybody in years, I had pretty much forgotten how, but he was waking that part of me up again.

Wait, what was he doing again? He had just insulted me worse than I knew anybody could. He had even insulted my father and step-mother. Who the hell did he think he was, kissing me like this?

I pushed his face away. In a mini-second, I saw a smirk flicker across his lips. I smacked it off his stubble-ridden mug. Asshole.

"Don't you ever kiss me to shut me up," I said in low tone.

"You kissed me back," he said smirked, rubbing the side of his face I had just slapped.

"I oughta smack you again, you bastard."

"Go for it, you wouldn't be the first."

Instead of smacking him, I grabbed his rock-hard arms and kissed him again this time on my terms. It was hard to breath, all those feelings of being too hot and too cold all at once were flooding me again as he pressed me against him. Maybe it was slutty, maybe it was trashy, but I was getting turned on by making out with him in the middle of the Park at night after fighting with him. His hand cupped my ass cheek instead this time, and I realized he was getting turned on, too, against his thigh. Love-hate relationship? This was new territory for me. I was turning him on. How in the world was this possible? I didn't even understand, but it suddenly dawned on me how much power I had over him because I was a woman. A woman, not some little girl who didn't get her period and lived at home. I had power.

I had power.

I pushed him away again and grinned. "Have a nice night, Haversham," I said, picking up my crutch. "I'll see you around."

"Bitch," he uttered, slumping.

I limped off as quickly as I could towards the subway station that was about two blocks away, grinning to myself. I hope he enjoys those blue balls, I thought, triumphantly, although erotic fantasies were running through my brain. I laughed to myself.

"Stop right there, sweetheart."

"Huh?" I turned around to see a guy in a hoodie standing there.

"Hand over your purse and don't make a sound."

I realized he had a gun pointed at me. I gasped.

"I-" I couldn't see his face, it was pretty non-descript, non-caucasian, but he wasn't black, either. I heard my ringtone go off.

"Don't look at me!" he shouted. He grabbed the strap of my purse, but caught my feeding tube through my dress. I shrieked when the feeling of my skin being torn from the inside out spiderwebbed across my torso.

"Stop!" I cried. He yanked harder, and I felt a streak of pain through my abdomen. "No!" That only made him pull harder, stars in my vision from the feeling of my feeding tube being ripped through my stomach. Oh God… I couldn't respond the pain was knocking the air out of me. He pulled harder.

The pain was so bad I felt myself blacking out. I fell to my knees, and then they buckled underneath me and I hit the dirty sidewalk. My stomach felt like it was being torn open inside me, pain radiating out all over. Where had he gone?

I felt someone roll me over and I saw a bloodied face. My ears were ringing from all I had been through. I felt myself black in and out of the scene, hearing something going on asides from me. "Alexis?"

I recognized Ben- what had happened? What had I missed?

His face lit up with something- a phone. "911? There's been a robbery and a shooting in Central Park, my name's Ben Haversham, my friend Alexis Castle's been shot-"

What? I briefly saw what was causing this excruciating pain- my feeding tube, the entire thing, including the balloon that was supposed to be on the inside of my stomach, was sitting a few feet away from me, covered in blood.

Jesus! So that's what the rest of it looked like. Huh.

Ben's hands pressed down on my stomach and I hoarsely cried out from the pain. "They're gonna be here in a minute," he promised me. "Don't bleed out!"

The pain was so intense I blacked out a few more times until the paramedics arrived.

---

I woke up in a post-op recovery room, shaking with cold and nausea.

"What happened, honey? Do you remember?" a nurse asked.

I lifted my head to see a blurry nurse. I moaned in response.

"Oh, honey," the nurse said.

This wasn't like the post-op room where I had recovered from my knee operation or when I got my feeding tube installed. My feeding tube…

I touched my stomach and felt gauze taped against my skin. They had taken my clothes off somewhere and I was naked under this rough hospital sheet. I groaned from the pain of movement.

"Do you remember?" she asked.

"I…"

"You're in the ER, honey. We had to do emergency surgery to close up your stomach lining. It was leaking acid and food all over your insides."

When I tried to move, I groaned from the pain.

"We thought you had been shot. Then, when we were cutting your clothes off, we saw that you had food all over your dress, he yanked out your feeding tube."

"Oh… God!" I moaned, the nausea was worse.

She stroked my hair. "It's alright, baby," the nurse said. "Your parents are here. Do you want to see them?"

"Uh-huh," I uttered.

"That had to hurt," she empathized.

I closed my eyes and tried to let the quiet calm me. My entire torso throbbed from the surgery and the nausea was overwhelming, and I dry-heaved a few times.

"Alexis?" I recognized Dad's voice.

I opened my eyes and groaned. Even breathing hurt. I heard Kate gulp a sob back. "I knew something was wrong," she said. "I knew. I just had this feeling and…"

"Why the hell were you in the middle of Central Park at night?" Dad cried. "We had an agreement that you'd stay out of the park when the sun went down!" I couldn't really respond, I just let him rant and yell at me.

I felt a hand stroking my hair- it was slender, smooth, and cool- it was Kate's. "Richard, calm down. Statistically speaking, the Park's pretty safe at night."

"Pretty safe?" he cried. "Crime still happens!"

"I didn't say it didn't!" Kate cried. "Traumatic extraction of her feeding tube is no joke!"

"I rue the day we let her get that goddamn feeding tube!"

"There's nothing we can do about it, now!"

"Where's Ben?" I whispered hoarsely, my torso aching from the heaves.

"What?" Kate asked.

"Ben?" I repeated. My insides jerked and I groaned again.

"Where's Ben? He was in the ER when we got here."

"I don't give a good goddamn about that Benjamin kid-" Dad began.

"Richard, stop it!" Kate cried. "For Christ's sake! He's the one that called 911! He saved her life!"

The internal pistons in my stomach stopped.

"Go find out," Kate snapped.

"What? Why me-"

"Go find out, I'm not going to tell you again!" There was some shuffling and I tried to open my eyes again. That hand found mine and squeezed right as I felt my insides jerk again, pain flying out my body.

"Mommy," the word slipped out of my mouth. I wasn't sure who I was asking for.

"I'm here, baby." I heard her sigh in exhaustion. "I had this terrible nightmare that you were standing on the edge of a damn and you feel off, and were screaming the whole time… I woke up, and that feeling was still there, so I tried to call you and you didn't answer, you weren't home yet and… Richard's phone went off and… they said you had been shot. I thought I was going to die. I felt so helpless, I couldn't do anything… I'm not used to that feeling." Her thumb rubbed the back of my hand. "Do you remember what happened?"

"A little. Not much," I croaked. The jerking in my insides seemed to have stopped. The pain in my guts and pelvis hurt to bad. I didn't remember this from the knee surgery. I felt myself heave.

"Alexis?" Kate asked.

I couldn't scream or roll over on my side, only heave. I wanted to die.

Kate let go of my hand and I heard her punching the nurse call button. "I need some help now!"

I felt something like acid come up my throat and out my mouth. I gagged on the taste. My stomach jerked again and I projectile vomited. I looked up and saw that I had vomited on Kate's arm.

"It's alright," Kate said quietly as she got a bucket for me to puke into. She kept in hitting the nurse button. "Shit, I'm going to get you to the restroom, okay?" She pulled the sheet back, and gasped.

"I want a hospital robe," I moaned. She wrapped the sheet around me.

"Honey, we've got a bigger problem, you just started your period. Come on, stand up."

---

The next two hours were humiliating; I was sitting, mostly naked on a toilet, puking and dry heaving all over everything, when a nurse came in, Kate was busy shooing Dad away from the bathroom, and I was in so much pain, I was shaking from weakness, moaning and sobbing. I was diagnosed as being allergic to the anesthesia; this particular anesthesia caused some unfortunate women to start their periods and to start heaving, I was trying to deal with both. I had heard about this in my chemistry classes, an effect of the progesterone in the anesthesia causing menstrual cycles to commence in non-pregnant females, but never thought I'd be in the ER under emergency anesthesia in my life. The ER doctors and nurses hadn't thought of it, thinking I had been shot, they had put me under immediately once I got in, saying damn the consequences, they just wanted to stabilize me. This was a shocker for me, I hadn't had my period since freshman year at Columbia. Kate sat by my side the entire time, still covered in my vomit, more care being put towards me than herself for the next three hours, squeezing my hand and stroking my hair as the nurse was putting me on pain medication through the IV catheter in my inner elbow. All the doctors could do was let me wait it out until the anesthesia had metabolized out of me. This was quite glamourous, you never saw this kind of humiliation on Grey's Anatomy. This was absolutely horrifying, but the pain was so intense, I didn't get to think too much about it. Later, it was sickening to remember how helpless I was.

When the heaving stopped, the nurse and Kate dressed me and took me back to the ER bed, where Dad was flipping out. I was so unhappy about the amount of pain I was in; I had completely forgotten how painful my period could be. Why I had been so upset about people thinking and treating me like a little girl who couldn't get her period? Oh yeah… I forgot how much periods fucking sucked.

"Just go to sleep," Kate said. "Rest." I so exhausted, I wanted to, but the cramps were so bad I couldn't move. The pain medications finally kicked in and all that was left was exhaustion.

While I was sleeping, they moved me to a recovery room in the main part of the hospital. I never found out what happened to Ben.

When I woke up, Dad was asleep across from me on the little couch. I was still so sore, I could hardly move my torso. I felt something on my nose, and I touched it; a feeding tube had been inserted into my nostril. I punched the nurse call button.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," I croaked. "Where's my mom?"

"I don't know, I'm sorry," she said. "Can I get you something?"

"It hurts so bad," I moaned.

"I'll bring you something for it."

"Alexis?" Dad asked groggily.

"Hi, Daddy," I muttered.

He sat up, looking so old and tired. He had a five o'clock shadow and dark circles under his eyes, the lines in his face deeper than they had been last night. "I was so scared when I got the news you had been shot. God Almighty, when are you gonna stop scaring me? I almost had a heart attack when I got the call. I don't think I'll live to see my fifties if you don't stop this."

"Where's Kate?" I sighed.

"You're asking for Kate?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I made her go home to take a shower and bring some clothes for you. She just left. She was a trooper in the ER with you, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "What about Ben?"

"Ben?" he repeated uncomfortably. "I saw him right as he was being discharged. The mugger pistol-slapped him, he's looking pretty bad."

"He is?" I asked.

"A broken cheek bone and occipital orbit. His nose, too. He had a few stitches in his eyebrow. His eye is so swollen, he can't see out his left eye, but the plus side, none of his teeth were knocked out."

"How is he?"

"His roommate came by and took him home."

"You paid for his cab back to Brooklyn, right?"

"Umm…"

"Dad!"

"I'm sorry, honey! You were the first thing on my mind, I promise!"

"Where's my phone?" I asked, wanting to call Ben.

"They're still looking for your purse, but the caught the mugger. I want you to press charges for battery and assault. He could have killed you."

"I will. And Mom? Is she on her way?"

Dad shifted on the couch. "I've left messages with her."

"But you haven't talked to her?"

"No, not directly. Your Grandmother was just here. She just left to go home. What in the hell were you and Ben doing, walking through Central Park in the middle of the night?"

My cheeks burned at the thought of Ben kissing me in the park, squeezing my ass… I felt uncomfortably hot in my father's gaze remembering how exciting that felt. "We had a fight in the cab. He was trying to get me home safely. He got out, then I got out to tell him off… it's a mess."

"Why did you get out of the cab?" Dad said, disbelievingly.

"I… I wanted to have the last word," I admitted, my cheeks burning.

"Over what?"

Ben had told me that Dad had tried to blackmail him. "Dad, did you try to blackmail Ben to keep him away from me?"

"No!" he cried.

"Da-ad."

"Okay, maybe I told him to stay away from you, but it was only because you're so… so fragile right now. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Dad, how am I ever gong to grow up if I don't get hurt once-in-a-while?" I uttered.

"You'll… Alexis, I don't want you starving again. And I'm afraid if he broke your heart, you'd do it."

"When he rejected me last Christmas, it did exactly that. What did you say to him?"

Dad seemed incredibly uncomfortable. I was, too. "I said… I told him I'd ruin his entire future in writing if he tried anything with you."

"How could you?" I groaned.

"I did it because I love you. And it scares me half to death every time you show the warning signs."

"He said you promised the entire NYPD would come down on him."

He groaned and rubbed his face. "Okay, I said that, too."

"Dad, just leave me alone," I said, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. "Stop interfering with my love life!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just trying to protect you!"

It made sense. Yes, he was protecting me, but from what? I didn't want to hear it. "I'm going back to sleep."

When I woke up, Kate was there with Detectives Esposito and Ryan, and Jenny and Lainey. Esposito was the first to hug and kiss me. "You scared us pretty bad, carina," he said. "You know you can call any one of us if something's going on and you need someone to pick you up."

I nodded.

"We wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to you," Lainey added. "Don't you know better than to walk in Central Park at night?"

"I thought I was safe," I muttered.

"Actually, there were only seventeen muggings and two rapes in Central Park last year and that was it," Ryan offered.

"Two rapes too many," Jenny added, wiping her eyes. "You were all I could think about at school today."

"You're still in school?" I asked. Everyone laughed.

"Last day before the break," she admitted.

"Kate?" I asked. "I was looking for you."

"When?" she asked, clutching her stomach. She stood and took my hand.

"When I first woke up," I said. "Have you heard from Ben?"

"No, I haven't. You're going to be discharged in a few hours, we've got to get you ready to go. Your friends have been calling us, I keep telling them that you'll be able to take in visitors by Christmas."

"I'd like to see them. Hey, wait a second, what are all your friends doing here if I can't have mine here?"

"Friends?" Detective Esposito repeated. "Hey, we're family. Of course we're here."

"Can I start calling you Uncle Javier then?"

"Hey, if you want to, kid." He squeezed my shoulder. "If you want."

"Only after she learns how to throw a decent punch," Kate said.

---

I was discharged and immediately taken to the police station for a line-up that evening. The officer that we met told me to calm down, that they men arrested and taken in for the line-up couldn't see me behind the mirror. I found out that Ben had been called in to identify the mugger as well, they were going to rely on common identification. I had decided on pressing felony assault and battery charges, seeing as I ended up in emergency surgery due to how this guy tore my purse off of me and held me up at gun point.

They brought the men brought in for fitting the description and lined them up.

"Alright," I was told by the officer. "Which one?"

I looked for a short guy, about my height. They all looked pretty similar; I studied each face, and then on the last one, I saw his left eye was swollen up and a tooth was knocked out. "Number five," I said. "That's him."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I said.

"We found him going through a dumpster in Harlem this morning. He ran when we confronted him."

"So that's him?"

"Yes, Benjamin Haversham identified him too this morning. He's got the injuries to prove it, but he got a few good punches in."

"Ben beat him up?" I asked, surprised. "That badly?"

"Well, Haversham's not looking too good right now," the officer said. "Do you want to press charges?"

"Yes, I do."

Dad and Kate brought me back to TriBeCa by that evening with strict orders to stay off my feet and keep the feeding tube in my nose for force-feeding liquid food. I wasn't to eat anything solid for a few weeks while my stomach healed. When I arrived home, Grams was waiting with Noel and Jace, who ran up to see me. Noel showed me a picture he colored for me as Dad picked him up. I kissed him, and Jace wanted a kiss too for his scribbles with a crayon on a piece of paper. Dad had to carry me up the stairs to my room, I was hurting so badly I couldn't really climb them myself. All I wanted was a hot shower, but that had been frowned upon by the hospital doctors. As Kate had done earlier in the fall, she was the one who gave me a bath, redressed my stitches and incisions, and got me dressed in fresh pajamas. I could see the scars; they had operated laprascopically on me and I had several small scars on my upper stomach under my rib cage. "Have you heard anything about Ben?" I asked.

"No more than what your father told me," Kate said, combing my hair out.

"I want to make sure he's okay. Can you check? Dad didn't even try to pay for his cab ride back to Brooklyn."

"Your dad had a lot on his mind," Kate reminded me. She pulled back the sheets and helped me sit down into the bed. The pain in my torso was awful, but not nearly as bad as when my feeding tube got ripped out.

"Kate?" I asked as she tucked me in.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being there for me and not judging. That was the most humiliating moment of my life."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that's what… what step-moms are for."

I knew she meant to say 'moms.' I thought briefly of my own mother; she hadn't called, yet. Kate hadn't thought twice about helping me instead of just letting a nurse handle it. I hated to think that she was a lowly step-mother when she had been so brave and fearless with me in the recovery room. Kate had been… she was my safe place. I knew I could trust her with anything. I was so thankful.

I wasn't tired any longer. Kate decided against giving me an Ambien at seven at night. As Noel came in to sing a song for me from pre-school and Jace followed him in, Tara, Hamich, Nina, and Jules knocked on the door.

"On the Fifth Channukah, my true love gave to me, a heart attack and a water ski!" they sang. We all started laughing.

"That makes no sense!"

"We came up with it on the subway over," Nina said, "Have some pity on a shikza! Hi, Jace! Hi Noel!" She knelt down to hug and kiss both of them.

"Hi!" Jace said.

"You don't know how scared you made us this morning when it was announced on New York 1," Tara said.

"What?" I asked quietly. My face felt hot.

"It was on New York 1 this morning that you and Ben had been in a mugging in Central Park," Nina said. "Nobody's told you, yet?"

"No!"

"Didn't you have television in the hospital?" Nina asked.

"Yes, but I watched Jersey Shore reruns because I couldn't handle the news," I admitted. I was horrified. "What did they say?"

"That you and an unidentified friend were walking to a subway stop in Central Park in the middle of the night when you got mugged," Nina said quietly. "They referred to you as 'Mystery Writer Richard Castle's daughter' in the news story."

"And that your feeding tube was traumatically extracted," Hamich offered. "Man, that's really hard-core that he wanted your purse so bad!"

"I'm sorry," Tara and Jules said at once.

I rubbed my face. "Oh no…" I muttered. Everyone knew I had a feeding tube? They might as well have said I left Ben with blue balls, this was so embarrassing. What would people think if they heard this about me?

"Nobody will care," Tara offered. "In the PR biz, we understand that the public is only going to remember stuff from the last three months if you act like it's no big deal. Unless it's really a scandal. And having a feeding tube isn't a giant scandal, nobody's going to care enough to keep digging. I mean, you don't go out to party with the socialites or anything."

"Why else would I be on a feeding tube?" I cried. I couldn't imagine my worst secret exposed for the whole world to see; I'm fucked up and have an eating disorder.

"It's not a big deal. Nobody'll remember that in three months, tops," Tara said. "Promise."

"Ben will remember," I uttered.

"So what if he does?" Jules said. "He likes you. I think."

"He's got to hate me after last night," I said. "Stuff… happened."

"Oooh. I'll get the kids out," Hamich said, picking up Noel and Jace. He grabbed the boys and took them downstairs, giving us some girl time.

"So what happened? Spill." Jules said.

"Ben basically told me that my father threatened to ruin his career as a writer. And my dad admitted it."

My friend's eyebrows raised at once. "Ooh," the chorused.

"That's messed up. But sweet," Nina admitted.

"I'd kill my dad if he did something like that," Jules said.

"He called me a drunken, bulimic princess, too," I said. "And told me I was selfish. I didn't even know Dad was taking it that far."

"What a bastard. I'm not ever inviting him to hang out with us ever again," Tara said.

"That's why I chased after him and…" I debated in my head over if I wanted to tell them the whole story. "While we were fighting, he slammed me against a tree and kissed me."

My friends' jaw's dropped. "Whaaat?" Tara said. "You kissed him?"

"I kissed him back that time, yes. And then I smacked him. And then, I kissed him."

"Oh," Nina breathed, excited. "You did?"

"I really… I turned him on. More than I should have," I said. "And then I walked away. That's when the mugger attacked me."

"That's what happened?" Nina asked.

"I guess my advice went pretty far," Jules said, sounding stunned. "Do you think…"

"He'd never, never be with me," I said. "He called 911, but that was it."

"Yeah, I heard that he got pistol-smacked," Tara said. "It was pretty rough."

"It was," I admitted. "I heard about the fractures in his face. He had to be in a lot of pain right now but…"

"You're not trying to call him and check in?" Nina asked.

I shook my head.

"You should," Nina said.

"I would die," I said. "I really would, if I had to see him now. The last thing I heard was that he went identified the same suspect I did this morning when I got to the police station for the line-up. I was so drunk and so angry with him…"

"But he still came to your defense," Tara said.

"I don't know why he came to my aid, though. I left him with blue balls and told him off. I didn't know he had it in him to defend me."

"Ben told Hamich he served in the Marines," Tara added. "He's served in Afghanistan, you know."

"He did?" I repeated quietly.

"Yeah, he was medically discharged due to an injury," she said. "He has a purple heart. Hamich got that out of him over a few beers. That's how he got through Vanderbilt. It's a really expensive school to go to— and it's really hard to get into, but he paid for it completely by himself. And an investigative article he wrote for the Nashville Banner got a nod from the Pulitzer Organization about the drones used by the military. That's how he got into Columbia's MFA program."

My jaw dropped. I felt so stupid, I never knew this about Ben. I wondered if my dad did. His character in the Nikki Heat novels, Jamison Rook, was all those things, but Dad wasn't. And the Nikki Heat novels were just Dad's fantasies with Kate written on paper. I wondered if Dad was a little jealous of Ben.

"How is it possible?" I muttered.

For the first time, I had to admit something to myself: Ben was the sexiest motherfucker I had ever met in my whole life. And I had made a complete drunken fool of myself and I'd never, never live it down.

---

I didn't hear a word from Ben after the accident. After a week, I was able to move my torso without pain, and I was able to take care of myself again. Kate had done everything for me during that time, which made me feel guilty.

I got a few weird calls on my new phone, but once Dad found out about them, he had me change my number. That made me a little mad, but I discovered later that they were tabloid reporters.

Mom finally called me, disraught that my life had been attacked.

"Oh, honey," she said softly. "What happened?"

"This guy I like, he was trying to get me home," I admitted. "He paid for my cab, but told me Dad had tried to blackmail him away from me, and I jumped out of the cab, in the middle of Central Park, and told him off."

"Oh, that's my girl," Mom said. "I'm so proud of you. What happened?"

"I was trying to get to the subway stop when I got mugged," I said. "I went down to the precinct and identified the kid who did it."

"What happened when he mugged you?" she asked.

"He grabbed my purse— the strap was across my chest— and he grabbed my feeding tube at the same time," I admitted. "He pulled it out. God, Mom, it was the most painful thing I've ever been through! It hurt so bad when the balloon inside my stomach, at the end of the feeding tube tore through my stomach lining and my abdomen. I blacked out from the pain."

"Oh my God, honey!"

"My friend Ben called 911. He got pistol-smacked by the mugger. He couldn't see out of his left eye when he left the hospital."

"I'm just concerned you were in the hospital again, sweetie."

"The ER put me under some awful anesthesia," I admitted. "It was so bad when I woke up, I was puking- and oh Mom! I want to tell you all about it! But they closed up the tear in my stomach."

"Oh, baby," she sighed. "This is horrible! I'm coming to New York for Christmas Eve, okay?"

"You are?" I cried, excited.

"Yes, I'll make some plans. I always like staying in the W Hotel," she said. "You want to spend Christmas Eve with me?"

"Of course!"

We made plans for me to spend Christmas with Mom. I was elated; she was finally going to make time just for me since last year. I was so happy.

"Don't consider it anything more than what it already is," Dad said when I told him.

"She's upset about it," I added in.

"Of course she is," Dad muttered, sighing.

That afternoon, Kate and I went out for my outpatient therapy, and I saw the cover of the New York Daily News. It was a pararazzi picture of Dad and it said, A PRIVATE HELL: The Anorexia Terror in his family. I choked back outrage and fury at this. Dad would never give me up to a tabloid for an interview.

"I want to read that," I said.

"Don't," Kate said.

"Why not?"

"Don't read what the tabloids say. It's just theory and if you try to keep up, it'll take over your life," she sounded grave when she said it. "I'm speaking from experience. I hate it when people refer to me as Nikki Heat. I'm not her. People are going to make you into some kind of martyr or waif or a diva, they don't know you. They can't know you from a newspaper article. Or any other media. We know you. That's what's important."

"But Kate…" I said, wiping tears away. "I can't let them assume things-"

"Who cares what people who don't know you think of you? The people closest to you will never judge you. Or believe these tabloids. There's going to be a moment where you get to tell your side of the story, and we're going to be behind you 100% as long as you tell the truth, okay? I promise."

I sniffed and nodded. "But what if it ruins my attempts at medical school?" I asked.

"It won't, as long as you don't speak to the press. Your father has PR people to do this for him. Trust me. They can spin this for the positive. You know, maybe it's time for you to speak out."

My knees almost buckled beneath me. "I can't," I whispered. "I can't have people knowing how messed up I am."

"You're not that messed up," she promised, slipping an arm around me. "There are people out there in a much worse position than you. They might find you inspiring."

"I can't," I whispered. I absolutely could not put my problems out there for the world to see, but somebody, a group of people were doing it anyway.

"You will one day," she said, hugging me. "I know you will."

When we got home that afternoon, Dad called me to his office to show me something.

"Hey," he said, shuffling a few papers. "I heard you had a bad day."

"Yeah, I did," I admitted.

"I found something you might like," he said. "Actually, you wrote this. Do you remember how you used tell me stories and I'd write them out for you?"

I finally felt a smile cross my face. "I do," I admitted. It was one way Dad and I used to play when I was little and before I could write.

"I found them on my harddrive."

"Aww, Dad!"

"They're adorable," he said. "I printed them up. They were fun to read again." He held out the sheaf of papers. "I can email the files to you."

"Thanks, Dad." I took the papers from him and began to scan the first page.

"You know, when you were little, I had a dreamed that we'd collaborate together on a book. I was a write, you'd be a writer, too. Then, you turned out to want to be a doctor."

I remember thinking my dad was the coolest dad in the world. I wanted to be just like him before I fell into being the best student in the world so I could be anything I wanted. Oh wait... I became anorexic, not a writer, not a doctor. "Dad, are you disappointed I'm becoming a doctor?"

"What? No way! No! Do you know how many parents want their kids to become doctors?"

I tried to laugh. I failed miserably.

"If you could be anything, I just want you to be happy sweetheart, that's all."

---

The week before Christmas, I finally got around to ignoring the emails and the articles assuming things about my family and me. My friends came over to keep me entertained and we spent the evenings sitting around the living room with Noel and Jace, talking, occasionally, my friends brought me along to their holiday parties from their offices or other friends. It was nice to socialize, but once people figured out who I was, it became an elephant in the room and I usually went home early.

One evening, about three days before Christmas Eve, Dad came out of his office with his iPad while Kate and I had the Hunger Games on for my friends. I had been hooked up to a nutrient bag for the feeding tube that had been in my nose since the hospital and I was nursing an almond-milk protein shake with raspberries and strawberries blended into it at the same time. "Ladies, I think it might be best if you all went home," he said. "There's a family matter we need to attend to."

"Everything okay?" Nina asked.

Dad pressed his lips together. "No, not really," he admitted. "Alexis can tell you about it later. You'll find out soon anyway."

"We're here for Alexis," Jules said.

"Does it have to do with what people are saying in the media?" I asked guiltily.

"Actually, yes," Dad said.

"Just tell me in front of my friends."

Dad took a deep breath. "Your mother's going to be on the cover of Hello! Magazine next week. Talking about your eating disorder." My friends and Kate gasped in horror.

"What?" I gasped, all the blood rushing to my head.

"It's too late. We can't kill the article," Dad said.

I disconnected the latch to the feeding tube line, stopping the flow of liquid nutrition. "She's gone to the press?" I asked, the feeling of betrayal making me sick. Tears stung my eyes. Dad had claimed to Ben that he had a lot of power in the publishing industry, but he couldn't kill an article in a trashy tabloid. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know, honey. I haven't called her about this."

"What does it say?"

Dad brought up his iPad and handed it over to me. There was an email from Gina with an advance copy of an article set to run in Hello! Magazine opened. I read it and started to feel sick. I was so happy I hadn't told her how I felt about Ben. "This is almost word-for-word the conversation I had with Mom a week ago," I said, feeling dizzy. "Did she record it and send a copy to the writer at Hello!?"

"I will never forgive her if she did that," Kate said.

"She's got a death wish if she did," Dad muttered. "I thought this sounded familiar when I read it."

"I've been stabbed in the back," I muttered. "By my own mother…"

"Alexis, we're not going to stand for this. I'll get my celebrity PR department to take your case on and make sure you don't get anybody else saying anything about you-" Tara began.

"No," I said, my tears finally overflowing. I couldn't help it, I burst into tears. "No, don't do this to me. I just… I just want to be alone right now. I'm going to bed."

---

I went to bed that night in tears. My friends refused to leave me alone; they piled into my bed and held me while I cried. All I could think about was that everyone would know about my eating disorder and the events of the mugging. I refused my nutrient bag, I didn't care if I wasted away, I wanted to die. My own mother had sold me out to a tabloid.

"I'll have her head!" I woke up to Grams downstairs. "Where's Alexis? I'm absolutely going to wring that untalented hack's neck! How could she do this! To her own child, no less! Doesn't she care about hurting the people closest to her?"

"Mother, calm down," Dad said. I sat up and climbed over my friends to get out of my bed and go downstairs. "We don't want to feed the tabloids anymore."

I listened to Grams rant and rave about Mom betraying me like this as I went downstairs.

"Oh, my baby!" Grams cried, opening her arms to hug me. I went straight to her arms. "As if you haven't been through enough in these last two weeks! Now, Meredith gets the bright idea to exploit you."

"I'll be okay, Grams," I muttered.

"Really? You're alright?"

I burst into tears. "No!"

Grams took me to Dad's office and we shut the door while I cried. "I'm going to make sure she never works again," Grams promised me.

"You can't do that," I sniffed. "Dad can't even kill this article!"

She hugged me for a long time. "I know I can't stop this from happening to you, my dear. But rest in this; when Eddie Fischer left Debbie Reynolds for Liz Taylor, everyone was so sympathetic to Debbie. You know what Debbie did? She didn't speak a word to the press, only told Eddie that her friend Liz would break his heart. And she did! Eddie set himself up and is he even remembered for anything other than being Liz Taylor's husband? I think not. And Debbie is still known for being a sweetheart when everybody else around her knows she told him so."

I knew Grams was only trying to make me feel better so I let her talk.

"You just hold your head high and don't speak a word to the press until this has all blown over," she said, tapping the tip of my nose with her finger.

"I will," I said, although I had no idea how to.

---

I hibernated inside all day, not wanting to go out to the park with Noel and Jace, letting Dad take them. By dinner time, I decided I could just hole up in the Loft until this nightmare was over. But, I needed to talk to Mom and tell her that she had hurt me and that I didn't want to see her for Christmas.

I got up the courage to call her on her cell.

"Hi, Alexis!" she cried, as if she hadn't stabbed me in the back. "I'm so excited about Christmas in New York! I'm packing right now!"

"Mom, I need to talk to you," I said. "Dad got an advanced copy of the article from Hello! magazine last night."

Mom was silent for a full five seconds. "Where did he get it?" she asked.

"From Gina," I said. "Mom, how could you betray me like that? I told you those things about the mugging in confidence. You're my mother! How could you?"

"I didn't even know he was going to take that information when he interviewed me," she said defensively. "We talked more about me and the movie I just finished, you know how journalists twist and distort the truth, you've seen it with your father. We hardly spent five minutes talking about you, and the news of your mugging had already gone viral on the internet. They promised me they wouldn't publish my story until after New Year's! I just put some speculations to rest to protect you, that's all!"

"Mom, you recorded our last conversation and played it for the reporter. That's no protecting me that's selling me out to a reporter for more information!"

"I did not! How could you accuse me-"

"I've read it!" I cried. "It was word-for-word what I said to you! You didn't even ask permission! What you said in that interview could be dismissed in the case because it's appeared in a tabloid! Mom, you don't have permission to record any conversation we have together, do you understand me-"

"Alexis, stop being so silly!"

"'Silly'? You're calling me 'silly' when my darkest, most personal secret has been exposed by the woman who gave birth to me? Why did you even have me? To entrap Dad because he wanted to do the right thing and marry you? Is that why you cheated on him, too?"

"I did not cheat on your father while we were married-"

"Bullshit! Yes, I'm calling bullshit on you, I know about the divorce papers! I read them! That's why you gave up custody of me to Dad, because he didn't want you having an excuse for more child support and using me like a pawn! You lie so much to me, I think you believe your own lies by now! And you rarely call me 'just because,' you need something to remind you! I don't want you coming to New York for Christmas! A contitinent away isn't far enough! I really hate you right now, you're disgusting!"

I hung up the phone to, wanting to fling it across the room. I realized I was yelling my last few sentences. The whole house heard me. I sat down in Dad's office chair and realized what I had just said. A moment later, my phone rang again; it was Mom. I let it go to voicemail, then my voicemail dinged. She called again and I ignored it.

Dad poked his head into his office. "Hey, I just heard you," he said.

I shrugged. "I hate that woman."

"Hate will fade. You'll forgive her eventually."

"No, I won't," I said. "She sold me out to further her own career. She's screwed the battery charges by talking to the press!"

"Sweetheart, let me tell you something," he began. I rolled my eyes. Dad advice to the rescue as he sat down on the desk across from me. "Let me explain something; your mother is a big, giant, messy bag of crazy. That's why I liked her so much when we first met; she didn't consider consequences, she was impulsive like me, and just ran with stuff. It was fun. But she could get jealous. Insanely jealous. She gets in it for the long game and then screws you over completely. That's her pattern. She's completely into herself and will go to dangerous lengths to promote herself. She never really had a maternal instinct, that's something I noticed almost immediately after she had you; an overwhelming urge to protect you and love you. And how she feels about you, that's not your fault. That's hers. You can't do anything about it now."

"I know," I said, feeling the tears running down my cheeks. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"If I could pick a better mother for you, even if she and I had no chance together in the world, I'd have picked somebody different. But that's the past. I can't change it. Meredith is your mother. And yes, she cheated on me. But I put that to rest and forgave her a long time ago."

"Dad, you can't be serious-"

"I'm dead serious. But if I had never put myself through a relationship with her, I'd have never had you. You are completely, one-hundred per cent worth all that she put me through. I'd go through the pain she put me through ten times if I had to, only to have you in the end, that's how much I love you. You know, I forgave her, even though I don't think she'll ever understand how badly she hurt me. I don't think it's in her to understand. I don't think it even registers how much she's harmed you with her behavior, either. Sweetheart, I am so sorry you never had a mother to be a safe place. Everyone deserves that. I didn't have it, either, shhh," he said quietly, looking over his shoulder. "But I tried really hard to be that for you. But you didn't deserve to have an unstable second parent in your life. That was something I never thought you'd suffer from. I'm sorry. So, so sorry."

"Thanks Dad… But I don't think this is going to make things any easier."

"I'm telling you that if you just forgive her, you'll be a lot happier."

"I'm not going to forgive her! That would make everything she does okay! It's not okay!"

"I know it's not," Dad said. "Forgiveness doesn't mean you liked what she did. It just means you're not going to let it make you angry anymore. It's her issue to deal with, not yours. And it's okay to guard yourself against people that would hurt you. It's okay to look out for yourself and not put yourself out there to be hurt. It takes a lot of humility. And a lot of strength to be humble."

I nodded, feeling a little sick to my stomach, wiping fresh tears leaking out of my eyes. The cuff of my shirt sleeve was completely soaked by now.

"As for what she's done, Gina and my PR team have suggested something where we can bet her at her own game: you speak out directly about what's happened and being anorexic."

"What?" I cried. "Dad, no!"

"Listen to me; we've got three days before that issue of Hello! Magazine hits the stands. If you posted your version of the events as a verified guest blogger on my website, we could beat Meredith at her game. You could control the way the media's seeing you."

"No," I said. "No way. I know how the most innocent of comments can be twisted and turned and make me out to be something I'm not. I'm not playing that game."

"Gina and my PR have experience with this. A lot of it, with representing me." We both smirked. "That's my girl. I want you to write your own version of what happened, and I'll send it through them, and then I'll post it on my blog. If it comes out before Meredith gets her face the cover of Hello!, you've got a fighting chance."

---

I sat down in my room that night and started writing a blog response. Dad checked on me, telling me to let him know, no matter how late the notice was, that I was finished, and then to email him with it. He told me to stick to the facts, not to put my opinion in there or anything that didn't have factual evidence, and to put out what I was most comfortable with putting out there, and to just say I wanted to keep something private if I didn't want to tell.

I realized how hungry I was, so I reconnected my nutrient bag. In the mean time, I must have worked on shaping, cutting, and editing what I wrote over the next four hours, because it was after midnight when I was done. I went downstairs and woke Dad up after I emailed it to him. He got up and called Gina, emailing her what I had written. Dad turned around and told me he'd wake me up when he got the call from the PR team that was going to edit my blog post.

I decided against taking an Ambien just in case the PR team got it done in the next six hours. I tossed and turned, and finally, got to sleep, but was woken up by Dad within an hour. My blog had been edited and was ready for publication.

At five in the morning, we put on a pot of coffee. The webmaster on Dad's website had created an account for me. We copied and pasted this onto it from my email:

Hey everyone, this is Alexis Castle, Richard Castle's oldest child, the one that has a lot of people talking because I was mugged in Central Park recently. Yes, it's really me, the ginger-haired little kid from all his local booksignings, usually accompanied by my stunning, beautiful, and talented grandmother, Martha Rodgers. A lot of personal problems and secrets have come to light in the public eye in the last few days, and I felt the need to publicly address them.

I am a part-time student at Columbia University. I am majoring in Biology and English Literature in hopes that I'll get into medical school because I'd like to be a medical examiner, like my friend and mentor, Dr. Lainey Parrish ME for the greater Manhattan area. The reason I'm not going full-time is because I am a diagnosed anorexic with exercise bulimia and other purging-like tendencies. The diagnosis came my freshman year when I was too weak to get out of my bed in my dorm at Columbia when finals were done and my father had to come get me. He took me to the hospital for a severe iron deficiency and an irregular heartbeat, only to find out that I had starved myself down to eighty-four pounds, according to the hospital scale. I am five-foot-five, which made my BMI a 14. A normal BMI is 18.5 or higher. I weighed myself the day before on my home scale, I weighed eighty-three pounds, at which I thought to myself, "Lower."

I have been to inpatient rehabilitation three times since and am currently attending an outpatient program here in Manhattan. This has caused an immeasurable amount of stress on my father and his marriage to Kate Beckett, as well as other members of my family and my best friends. I have a major problem with trying to be perfect, and I've gone to some incredibly strange and dangerous lengths to try to achieve this unattainable desire, like most anorexics. Therein lies my illness. My family and I have tried to keep this a secret in hopes that if I got the right treatment, it would just go away. It hasn't. I'm still struggling with it. It's come to light in the recent news that my feeding tube was traumatically extracted during a mugging in Central Park. This news is true, although some of the other claims are incorrect. The abdomino-gastric tube was installed two and a half years ago because I was not able to eat and too scared to do so; my BMI is still under an 18.5, and my father and stepmother were afraid I'd die from malnutrition and organ failure if I couldn't be force-fed. I very quickly figured out how to purge from the tube, and it's been a fight between me and my family to keep me from doing it. My father regrets ever letting me get that feeding tube installed.

You'd think a pre-med student would know better than to starve herself down to emaciation. Honestly, I do know better. But it's a habit, a compulsion, and a fear for me to eat, while running has given me a lot of relief from stress. I've been a bit dependent on my disorder, but I twisted my knee and hurt myself back in October. This version of perfection I've created for myself is an addiction; I had to run, even if I was sick, running a fever, or hung over, to make me feel semi-normal and able to function. I cut out fats, dairy, and processed foods from my diet, only to decide to stop eating meat, and then carbohydrates, and then fruit due to their sugars. I get sick when I've had too much sugar, even natural sugars from apples, let alone candy. For a while, all I could allow myself to eat was steamed green vegetables, salad greens, and plain, unsweetened organic almond milk.

Within the last few months, I had to have surgery to repair my kneecap and the tendons after an injury, and it went well. I'm off crutches at this point, but still limping. I had to gain weight for the surgery, which was hard. I've recently made some progress in restoring my weight to a healthy number. A part of me knows I can't starve myself again, but a part of me is ready to. I've suffered some humiliating and debilitating depression and consequences from this disorder; it's driven away my friends, potential boyfriends, and it's made my college career only be a fraction of what I wanted. It made a mess of my bridesmaid's dress in my dad and Kate's wedding; Givenchy had to completely re-cut the fabric and start from scratch because their size two was falling off me. Most people my age are partying and have apartments of their own with their friends or boyfriends and go home on weekends with mountains of dirty laundry. Not me. I live at home because I can't be trusted not to starve myself. I am probably never going to have children and my bone density is dangerously low, at the osteoporosis level of women who are experiencing menopause, but I'm only 23. My father and stepmother have had incredible stress put on their marriage due to my disease. They've fought against me to save my life, having to threaten a medical power of attorney on me on several occasions to get me to hit rock-bottom and take my disease seriously in treatment. If you could have locked me in a room with my anorexia and never let me come out again, I'd have been happy with it. Dad and Kate love me too much to let me do that. My disease has taken away attention from my baby brothers and cost my father over a quarter of a million dollars to be treated outside of insurance coverage. My stepmother should have had time to devote all of her attention to her career and motherhood. Instead, she's had to take care of me and my illness, taking her away from her young, beautiful sons. I know it's been terrifying for my grandmother to watch me go through this as well. It hasn't been fair to my family, I'm willing to admit that and take responsibility for it now.

The abdomino-gastric tube was 'traumatically extracted," aka pulled out, by my alleged attacker five nights ago in an attempt to grab my purse that was wrapped across my body. In New York, you learn at a young age that's the best way wear your purse, putting the bag in front of you and purse strap across your body to avoid purse-snatchers. It was second nature to me to wear it that way. He snatched my purse strap from my stomach and grabbed the tube through my clothing (probably by accident). His pulling it split the incision in my stomach wall open because of the small balloon on the other side of the tube, holding it in place, and through my abdominal wall and tore my skin open on my stomach. In the meantime, my stomach began to leak partially-digested food and acid into my torso while making my lungs deflate due to the change in pressure. My alleged attacker was armed with a gun and when he tore my feeding tube out, it resembled a gunshot injury. No, I was not shot. I passed out from the pain, and my Columbia classmate Marine Lt. (Ret) Benjamin Haversham, who was walking me to a subway stop from a party, fought back against the attacker and called 911, although he was injured, too. Ben Haversham saved my life that night and I'm very thankful for his bravery and defense of me. I went into emergency surgery at St. Vincent's Hospital immediately and when I woke up, I was sick from the anesthesia, having an allergic reaction. The allergic reaction I had was quite embarrassing, and I don't wish to go into detail about it at this time. I was cared for by St. Vincent's emergency room staff and my stepmother while my father was asked to wait outside until the anesthesia had metabolized out of my system. Kate was a trooper and I need to apologize to my father and her for almost killing them that night with worry. Kate has been an amazing force in my life, I'm so thankful for her. She's given me the love I wanted from my own mother, even when I pushed her away. Also, I knew better than to walk in Central Park at night, even though there's only been a recorded 17 muggings and 2 rapes in all of last year; it wasn't my night. Central Park is relatively safe to walk in at night, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful. New York, specifically Manhattan, is my hometown, and I will fiercely defend how wonderful it is.

My mother, actress Meredith Guillory (nee, Swanson), lives in Los Angeles, a long ways away from me. She and my father divorced when I was six, in which she gave up custody of me, giving full custody to my father. You can read about it in the public record of their divorce proceedings, link provided. I see her once, maybe twice a year. I missed her a lot growing up, although my father did an exemplary job (in my opinion) of raising me alone. I've often felt rejected by my mother and felt like if I could just be a better version of myself, she'd stop rejecting me, and be the mother I needed. One difficult thing I've learned in therapy is that we aren't always born to the mothers that we need, and that's not anybody's fault. No playing the blame game. But there is responsibility for our actions.

I found out two nights ago that my mother has given an interview to Hello! Magazine that is set to hit the stands on Monday. I got to read an advanced copy of the article, and I felt sick when I did. The article basically tells about my eating disorder from my mother's point of view. I'd like to address this, because my mother has only physically seen me three times since I graduated high school;

1. When she took me on a graduation trip to Paris, France, in which she took me to a lot of show business industry parties to meet French directors and to network with other French actors and told me to tell everyone I was her baby sister and to call her Meredith, not 'Mom.'

2. When I had mononucleosis freshman year of college she came for a week to care for me, but did a lot of going out. My grandmother and father cared for me during that week most evenings.

3. Last Christmas when she came for less than a half hour to my father's Christmas party at our apartment in New York. She left for another industry party that, to my memory, she said she couldn't take me along to. She promised to spend three days with me, but changed it to one day and then down to an appearance at our party.

During the times that I've been in inpatient treatment, she usually only called me once or twice a month, of which, she usually had to leave voicemails for me since I didn't have access to my cell phone except at designated times. My father, my grandmother, and my stepmother called me or left me messages daily. I received more calls from Jim Beckett, my stepgrandfather, than I did from my mother. My mother and I spoke over the phone twice out of all the times I was checked into inpatient treatment, but she never travelled to see me during those times. I have the call records from our cellular provider to prove this. She sent me care packages that consisted of designer clothing in sizes 4 and 6 from major west-coast designers, designer accessories and shoes, containing a note wishing me luck with restoring my weight so I'd fit into them again. I can honestly say I've never worn them because I gave them all away in rehab to my fellow patients out of my own frustration.

When I read the article, I saw that writer Dirk Macklemore had written an interview with my mother that contained an almost word-for-word private conversation I had with her by phone shortly after the mugging. This conversation included details of my mugging that the NYPD and my family's legal counsel have encouraged me and my family to keep private until the trial on my alleged attacker happening in April. I can't prove that my mother recorded our conversation without permission or that she played it for Dirk Macklemore, but the interview seems to follow my memory concerning what we talked about very closely. Neither my father, nor the rest of my family and friends in New York, nor myself, have spoken to the press at all since the night I was attacked in Central Park. Private details of the attack are in the article that is set to hit stands on Monday, details that I don't want the public knowing that could affect the trial of my alleged attacker. This has left me feeling very betrayed and violated by my own mother. She's taken a very private, personal matter and spoken to the press about it before obtaining my permission as a consenting adult to speak for me. This is quite embarrassing on my end. I'm not speaking to her right now, but she claims that journalists will twist and turn anything a person says into something that doesn't even resemble the truth about what they said. Funny, how closely the details of our conversation (in my memory) are following that article. Think what you will.

I, for one, will NOT be reading Hello! Magazine when it hits the stands on Monday. If you chose to read it, please consider this statement I'm releasing to my father's blog in contrast to what Dirk Macklemore wrote and what Meredith Guillory said.

Thank you for your time,

Alexis Castle

As I read my first blog ever on my father's website, we watched the numbers jump of people who read the blog, and had some coffee.

"Good morning," Kate said, yawning, reaching for the coffee. "I can't believe the boys have slept this late."

"Me neither," I said. "We'll keep the baby monitor on."

"So how has the blog gone?" she asked, sitting down beside me at the bar.

"It's getting major hits," Dad said. "476 in less than thirty minutes."

"Not bad!" Kate cried.

Dad's phone rang; it was Meredith.

"Are you going to answer that?" I asked.

"Maybe she's calling to apologize. You know I blocked her number from your phone," Dad said. He picked it up and answered to Meredith screaming so loudly, we could hear her in the kitchen. "Meredith!" he shouted. "Meredith, stop yelling!"

"I'll tell you when I'll stop yelling!" Meredith screamed back. "You and that police dyke wife of yours have turned Alexis against me! I was only trying to help when I gave that interview-"

"Meredith, I'll call you later," Dad said and hung up the phone. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. Alexis, I'm going to tell you and Kate something that I don't want going any further than this room. I honestly and truly believe your mother's bipolar and histrionic."

"Surprise, surprise," I said, thinking about it. Dad refreshed the blog page and surprisingly, over thirty messages appeared beneath my guest blog.

"Whoa," Dad muttered. "Alexis, I think you might want to see this."

---

The comments on my entry were amazing, for the most part. My father's fans were amazing; there were offers from ladies telling me to come by and eat fried chicken at any time (that made me laugh) and people telling me how they were struggling with their weight and totally understood the problems I was having. There were a few hate messages, but Dad quickly deleted them.

Kate got a call from Mom, and we just ignored her for the most part. Dad called his lawyer and asked for him to file a restraining order from Mom for the entire family. Mom was acting pretty crazy. But then again, Mom was always self-absorbed and occasionally crazy. By then, Kate was leaving for work. I had this strange feeling I could let my want for my mother go. Yeah, her approval would be nice, but I realized I'd never get it. Especially not now that I had called her on her bad behavior.

Dad and I spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment for the Christmas party, which was hard with two little boys under the age of four. By the time Kate got home, the caterers had arrived and were setting up. While I got my make-up on (which was a pain to do with my feeding tube in the way) Noel excitedly sang Jingle Bells over and over to me and jumped on my bed. Jace tried to join in, but was more distracted by the my nude heels from Bergdorf's. I had to keep the points of the stilettos out of his mouth.

Tara and Hamich came over and pretended to be goys for the night, they stayed late and helped with the clean-up. We drank a lot, and I ended up eating more than I planned, mostly soft foods like mini-quiches and I even ate a brownie (I'm such a rebel). Nina and Jules stopped by before Midnight Mass to say hi. I didn't mind having a feeding tube up my nose because everybody seemed to take it in stride now that I had come out about my eating disorder. I felt so… free. I realized I was smiling a lot at this party and even laughing more than I had in a long time.

It was after three in the morning before us adults got to bed. My stomach didn't rebel against more solid foods, but I made sure I didn't do it again for a long time. We set up the Santa presents for Noel and Jace before we went to sleep.

I woke myself up early to help out with making Christmas breakfast, which I had prepared most of yesterday, it just took sticking the quiche in the oven. My brothers came down the stairs, squealing in delight at the sight of the presents and woke up Kate and Dad. Once we were done with breakfast, I took a cup of coffee downstairs to the doorman, reminiscing over Ben. Herb was sitting there, reading the morning paper. "Alexa!" he cried, seeing me. "Merry Christmas, bubala! How're things?"

I hugged and kissed him across his desk. "Happy Holidays to you too," I said. "I brought you some coffee."

"Thank you!" he cried, accepting the paper coffee cup. "You're a good girl."

"Call us if you want any more coffee," I said.

"Coffee service! I like!"

The morning went off with some excitement when Jace stole a Christmas toy from Noel. We had to explain that Jace didn't know better, but the big brother had to demonstrate sharing.

In the afternoon, after I had set the Christmas table and the dinner was mostly done, I took a fresh pot of coffee in the carafe downstairs to Herb.

"You're so nice to an old man like me," he said as I topped off his coffee cup.

"You're my favorite part of living here, Herb," I said.

"You don't love living with your family?"

"After these last few weeks, I do," I admitted. "But when I'm at school? I'd like to have a private life, to be able to go out however late as I wanted… and not have to worry about waking up toddlers."

"You're young," he said. "You should live it up. Life's short. I thought I might let you know I'm retiring after New Year's."

"You are?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah. These old bones don't get up as fast. I'd just like to wake up in the mornings, read the paper, and have my coffee and not have to worry about anything but making my wife happy until lunchtime. You know I lost most of my retirement savings in the 2008 Stock Market crash. That's the only reason I took this job."

"Oh, Herb!" I cried. "That's horrible!"

"Well, you persevere. Bad things happen."

"But you worked so hard."

"Bad things happen and you just gotta think you way around them. My Papa, he was a Ukrainian Jew, you know. He survived World War II, lost all his brothers and sisters in the concentration camps, but he came to America with twenty dollars and the clothes on his back and made a life with my mother. He died before I finished high school."

"I never knew that about you," I said. "That's so sad, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, bubula, there's no reason to live in your own tragedy. You'll never move forward," he said, shaking a gnarled finger at me. "Oi vey, is that- it is!" He pointed at the computer monitor. He chuckled. "Why is Benjamin here?"

"What?" I asked, standing up on my toes to see. Ben was walking through the lobby doors. I hadn't seen him since the attack, but his face was still a little swollen. His nose was a little more crooked now and there were some traces of purple under his eyes, more on the left side than the right. The events of that night replayed in my mind, and I felt hot and embarrassed at the same time. He was carrying a pink bakery box, but looked amazing. I remembered how he made me feel when I found out what a bad ass he was.

"Ben! Good to see ya!" Herb cried, grunting as he stood up.

"Herb!" Ben cried. "It's nice to see you too!"

Herb hugged Ben.

"Hi, Alexis," Ben said. I felt a chill run through my body and all the blood rush out my head at what I had said and done. Yes, he was a sexy motherfucker, but I had been certain I'd never interact with him again and that he had no interest in me. He was locked away in my safe fantasy file in the back of my brain for a quiet alone night. "Kate called me yesterday and asked me to come to spend Christmas with y'all," he continued. "She told me not to bring anything, but I talked to my momma this morning and she said it was bad manners. So I brought cupcakes."

"You're coming to our… Christmas?" I repeated, stunned.

"Do you not want me to?"

"Oh no!" I cried, embarrassed. "No, please, come up. I'm sure Kate was expecting you! I had no idea."

"You kids go have a good time. But not too a time, understand?" Herb said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, sir," Ben said, saluting. "Come on, Alexis."

In the elevator, I felt chill bumps. And so hot, my panties started to get damp when I thought about all the times I fantasized about him. "I saw what you wrote on your dad's website," he said. "That was brave. I had no idea about your mom."

I bit my lip and nodded as the elevator doors opened. "Well, I wanted to clear up some rumors before her interview went to the news stands."

"I'm… I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "About what I said at Chanukah. About you. I honestly looked at you and didn't understand. All I could see was that you've never had to have a job in your life and I just assumed a lot of things. That was really douchey of me."

"It kinda was," I admitted. "But thank you for saving me. I couldn't do anything to defend myself once he had a hold of my feeding tube."

"You're pressing charges, right?"

"Yes. Felony assault and battery. You did a number on his face. Thanks."

Ben smiled, carefully, I could tell it hurt to move his facial muscles. "Well, I was looking worse for the wear in the hospital. I had to get five stitches, see?" He lifted his hair from over his eyebrow and showed me the newly forming scar.

"Oh, Ben, I'm sorry!" I cried.

"Nah, it'll add to my rugged good looks, yeah?"

I felt an unrepressable grin escaping my lips. "Yeah. Any other scars? I can give you new one if you'd like."

He chortled. "I got plenty," he said. I realized Ben and I were still standing in the middle of the hallway outside our apartment. He reached up to knock on the door, but I caught his hand.

"Ben, wait!" I tried to think of how to apologize for calling him those awful names. "Um, before we go in there, I want to apologize about…"

"Calling me a pussy?"

"Yeah. Dad's never threatened any of my past boyfriends before. I didn't expect it out of him. And I didn't know he had tried to blackmail you away from me."

"He loves you a lot," Ben said. "And I can tell things haven't been very easy."

I nodded. "They haven't. They just…"

"They had a lot to do with your momma, didn't they?"

I nodded. "Mom has her own problems," I admitted. "But they're not mine. And I can't help her with them anymore because she doesn't want help."

"I know what it's like to have divorced parents," he said. "To be half a world away from one. And to know the other one's struggling. Of course you feel responsible."

"Yeah," I said softly. "I'm kind of letting her go…"

"It's going to be hard," Ben agreed. "Life is hard."

"You said it." I opened the door. "Hey everyone," I called. "I brought back a guest."

Kate came out immediately and her face broke into a relieved smile. "Ben! I'm so glad you made it!"

"Thank you, Detective Beckett."

"Ben- Ben Haversham?" Dad asked incredulously. He came to the foyer.

"Ben, please just call me Kate. Can I get your coat?" Kate asked.

"Of course," Ben said, taking his coat off.

"I told you not to bring anything," Kate added.

"I couldn't help it. It was either this or spaghetti-O's and ramen noodles from my place." He chuckled nervously in my Dad's glare.

"Thank you," Kate said. I opened the box and saw six beautiful, fluffy mounds of white buttercream icing with green and red sprinkles and some mini candy-canes poking out from the middle. I ran the box to the kitchen to leave on the counter.

"Welcome to my home, Ben," Dad said. "I'm sorry I missed you in the hospital."

"Thank you, Rick."

"That's 'Mr. Castle' to you, son."

"Da-ad!" I cried.

"Yes, sir," Ben said.

My suspicion was true; Dad was jealous of Ben. I saw him elbow Kate. "You owe me," he hissed.

Kate shoot him a dirty look. "How are you feeling?" Kate asked.

"I'm… I'm alright. My side hurts. I broke my ribs that night, but the— you know, to my face, that was the worst."

"Can I get you something to drink? We made Bloody Marys," Kate said. "Please, sit down."

I showed Ben to the couch and Kate came back with a Bloody Marys for him and a protein shake for me. We watched A Christmas Story and Ben got down on the floor to play with new Legos with Noel. Dad and Kate had a very quiet argument in the kitchen, and I caught bits and pieces of it. It was about Ben showing up.

After turning up the TV volume, I got up and went to the kitchen, where Kate was trying to make some green beans for the dinner and Dad was messing with the turkey. "Are you guys upset that Ben's here?" I asked.

"I'm not," Kate said, putting the casserole dish in the lower oven. "Your father is. But I invited him."

"This is our Christmas!" Dad hissed.

"He didn't have any place to go. He was just going to stay home and get drunk today. Is that any way to spend Christmas?" Kate asked. "He saved Alexis's life! You've been completely ungrateful to him for that!"

"Dad, that isn't you."

Dad frowned. "Let me make something clear. I hate this kid. I really hate him, but he saved your life, so I'm putting up with him tonight."

I crossed my arms. I couldn't make my father like him.

"You owe me, Richard," Kate said soberly.

"I didn't know we're keeping score."

"You do. You know why."

Dad's expression went from furious to frustrated.

"He's not a kid, Dad, he's twenty-seven. And I agree; we owe him something," I said. "He didn't have to save me, but he did." I didn't have to tell Dad or Kate how I felt about Ben. "Can we just… just be civil? Dad, do this for me. And Kate."

Dad sighed. Dad was only trying to protect me, but from what? Was it so bad that I fell in love? Put myself out there to do so? I could get hurt, but that was what life was about. I couldn't be afraid of vulnerability with another person. I recognized something; I was so busy trying to be perfect to get my mother's attention, but I hadn't put myself out there for another person to choose me. My eating disorder had been in the way the entire time. "Just for today. Alright?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Daddy."

---

When Grams arrived, she was elated to see Ben and gushed over him. Grandpa Jim came over and my brothers greeted him with the usual screaming and dancing excitement and Jim almost dropped the presents on them. I introduced them to Ben.

Grams entertained Ben by mixing a vodka gimlet for him and getting a steak out of the fridge to press on his face (that infuriated Dad even more it was probably his dinner for tomorrow night). Christmas dinner was pretty easy-going for everyone (except Dad) and we got to know Ben a little better. I was on my feeding tube and eating mashed potatoes and jello, unlike everyone else. For once, I missed eating regular food. Ben was eating softer foods too, since his cheek bones still hurt a little bit.

I brought up his experience in the military.

"I did three years in the Marine," Ben said. "You know why they send the marines? We're the dumbest of the dumb."

Everyone at the table chuckled.

"How long were you in?" Grandpa Jim asked.

"Three and half years," Ben admitted. "I got sent home from Afghanistan after getting injured."

"You got the purple heart?" Grandpa Jim asked.

"I did."

"How?" I asked. "What happened?"

"I got wounded in a minefield," he admitted. "There were landmines laid out across this section of the ground, and we sort of knew, but we were using a wood board on a ruler to press down on the field, you know, high-tech military tools, yeah? And then, if it didn't explode, we'd step on that patch. Two guys ahead of me, he didn't press down on it enough, and when he took a step onto that patch, blew him to bits."

Grams looked a little horrified. Everyone else at the table only looked concerned.

"The guy in front of me got hit with a majority of the shrapnel, he eventually died. I got hit by about three percent of it," he continued. "It was enough to put me in the hospital for three weeks. Luckily, I had my back mostly turned."

"Did you have an injuries from that?" Kate clarified. "Like your kidneys, adrenals? Ear canals? Gastrointestinal tract?"

"Yeah my right kidney got it," Ben said. "I peed pink for a week in the hospital. I have a few scars on the right side of my hip and I lost more than half the hearing in my right ear. That's why my hair is so long; once I got discharged, I grew it out to cover it up."

I understood what he meant about scars when I had teased about giving him a few more earlier.

"That's perfectly dreadful," Grams said.

"Well, I liked the break. You tend to learn a lot when you can't speak or move or sleep in a hospital," Ben said. "You hear a lot, too. People start to forget you're even there. I started writing an article on some the underhanded things I noticedin that military hospital."

"The one that got an honorable mention in the Pulitzer Prize Review?" Kate asked.

I didn't even try to look at Dad.

"Yeah, that's the one," Ben said. "No big deal, it didn't even make the finals."

"That's really amazing, though," I added. "You were only twenty-five? You had already lived a lifetime in that war. No wonder you had a story to write."

"Everybody has a story to write," Ben said. "You do. You did."

---

After dinner, we split up the six cupcakes Ben brought for dessert. Kate and I split the peppermint one. It was a gourmet cupcake, so that was the reason why it had twice as much icing as a regular cupcake needed and was a little intimidating.

"Go slow," Kate reminded me. "You don't have the eat the whole thing."

"I know, I've only got half."

"Pace yourself, okay?"

"I will."

I only got about halfway through. It was so sweet, but so delicious. After dinner, Noel and Jace needed to be put down for an early bedtime. They had been so excited about Christmas that we hadn't managed to get them to take naps. Ben stayed for one more beer with the adults before leaving. My stomach was starting to hurt (I had promised myself I wouldn't eat like I had last night, but I had anyway) and I could feel the pain of digestive issues from the refined sugar in my system already.

When it got dark out, Ben stood up. "I've had a really nice time being here tonight. Thank you so much," he said, awkwardly, "for including me in your Christmas. This was a really nice change of plans. I think I need to head back to Brooklyn."

"Anytime," Kate said. "Let me get your coat."

I went to the kitchen to make a plate for Ben to take home from the leftovers and met him and Kate at the front door as he was getting his coat on. "I made a take-home container for you," I offered. "Since you only have Spaghetti-O's and Ramen at home."

"Thanks," he said. "Do you want to walk me out, Alexis?"

Kate nodded behind his back. "Yes," I said, taking her cue.

"Thank you again, Kate. It was very nice of you to open up your home to a complete stranger at Christmas."

"Anytime. Be safe," Kate said, hugging him. "Good night."

Ben and I walked out to the elevator.

"It looks like next semester's going to be my last," I admitted as he punched the button. "I'm going to be done with school if I can get all thirteen hours in."

"You're going back to full time?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, next semester's going to be my last, too," he said.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. "When you graduate, I mean."

"I didn't mention this because I don't want to jinx it, but there's a research position opening up in the English department at NYU," he said. "I'm on the short list, but it's not guaranteed. I got a job offer to teach at Montgomery-Bell Academy in Nashville next fall, too. The MFA stipend at Columbia ends in June."

My future seemed so bleak. The only things I had were my illness, more school, and the MCAT. No jobs, no independence, no nothing. I was destined to still live with my parents after graduation. How pathetic.

"I do like New York," Ben continued as the elevator came. The doors opened. I went to step into it, but Ben stopped me. "I feel like we haven't gotten to talk alone the entire night."

"I know," I said.

"I want to stay here," Ben said. "I'm still looking for work, but MFAs in creative writing don't get very far. I'm not qualified for much, asides from teaching. Hell, I'd take a job as a garbage man before going back to Nashville."

"I'm glad you want to stay here," I said softly, pressing the tips of my fingers against his. He pulled away. "Ben?"

"Alexis, listen," he said. "This is really hard for me to say to you; I am attracted to you. I won't lie. But I'm more attracted to this woman who was funny and happy and strong and confident and kinda sexy. I can't be with someone who's giving in to her illness. I saw that girl at Chanukah. That's why I got drunk and said those things to you in the cab. And that's why I kissed you in the park and came running after you. It's like there's two sides of you; the one I'm attracted to and the one that's drowning in her own problems and takes it out on herself and everyone around her. And it kills me to say that because I do like you so much. I don't think I'd be helpful at all in being your life if you were still in the throes of this disease. I have crap I'm dealing with on my own, and I feel like they'd only amplify that girl if you were still stuck being her. I'd only be bad for you. So, listen:" he swallowed, "call me when you can be that woman all the time. And give up this disease. I'll wait for her."

He kissed my now tear-stained cheek and walked into the elevator.

I understood what he was asking of me and it made perfect sense; he wanted me to love myself before he'd let himself love me.

---

After Grams and Jim went home, I helped out with washing the hand-wash only fine china and casserole dishes and getting the downstairs vacuumed (we had a white-noise machine in the boy's room).

"So what did you and Ben talk about out there?" Kate asked as I sat down to watch the end of It's a Wonderful Life with her in the darkened living room.

I shrugged. "Just stuff. He's getting job offers for when he graduates in May. I'm just going for the MCATs and that internship with the ME's office."

"You're pursuing your dreams, we're going to help you with them."

They had kept me alive the last few years; wasn't that enough? Maybe I did need to work for keeping myself alive instead of just giving up. Ben wanted to be with a girl- a woman who could take care of herself. Even if things didn't work out with Ben and me, I needed to get to that point where I took care of me and was happy and not destructive. "Maybe I should try to get a real job and move out."

She chuckled softly, almost sadly. "I hate being this codependent with you, but maybe I don't want you to move out just yet; you're a great help with the boys… And any other kids." There was a long, awkward pause. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? "I know I didn't tell you this yet, but I'm sort of expecting the worst; I'm having another baby."

"What?" I asked softly. "Dad hasn't said anything to me about it."

I saw Kate dab at her eyes with a tissue. "I had a lot of trouble with Jace's pregnancy. And my OB GYN is calling it 'geriatric' because I'm over thirty-five. God, that's so devastating to be called that."

"We're not really religious people, you could terminate it."

"No!" Kate cried, horrified. "I'd never! Your father and I just got careless that weekend we went away to the Hamptons and you and Martha stayed here with the boys."

"I don't need details about that," I muttered, a little grossed out. She looked a little terrified for a moment and I remembered that weekend was in early September. "When are you due?"

"I'm a little over three months now, so at the end of May. I'm already having blood pressure problems," she said. "We didn't plan this. Of course, Jace wasn't planned, either. My mom had some pre-eclampsia, I think. I never really paid attention when she told me about it, I wish I had now. I'm older now than she was when she had me."

"You can do this."

"Motherhood has already affected my career in a big way. Another pregnancy isn't going to help things. You know, I never planned on being a mom, and then Richard came along and then there's you and I really wanted to experience motherhood because of how I felt about you and… I hate my pregnancy being called 'geriatric.' I'm not old. I'm not even forty!" She blew her nose.

"Are you seeing a high-risk pregnancy specialist?"

She nodded. "My first appointment was right after Thanksgiving." She sighed and sniffed again. "I keep worrying that I'm going to miscarry again, late in the pregnancy."

"You've miscarried before?"

She sniffed and nodded. "It was last year. Around the time you were leaving Renfrew. I was only a few weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "Why did you keep it a secret?"

"Because I was embarrassed. It's hard to use protection consistently when you're married, my OBGYN didn't want to put me on the pill so I can heal and I wanted to get my tubes tied, but I kept on putting it off… I don't know how we're going to have a fourth kid in this apartment. It was huge when it was just you and your dad, but us and four kids? I don't know how we're going to do that."

"I do," I said softly. "I'll move out."

"Alexis, no. We don't know if you're capable of it, yet."

"Maybe you're just overprotective of me," I said softly. "I can move out; most of my scholarship and student loan friends at Columbia live in Harlem or Brooklyn. I could move there. It's cheaper than Manhattan, that's where everybody my age that's living…" I thought of Tara, Jules, and Nina, who all had apartments their parents were paying for here in Manhattan. Yeah, Dad had a trust fund set up for me, but maybe I needed to grow up and have a job and pay for my own way for a while. "Well, those that aren't living off their parents or a trust fund. I could just grow up and be an adult who has a job. You and Dad have to push me out of the nest sometime."

"I wouldn't abandon you like that!" Kate cried, looked horrified at my suggestion.

"Of course not!" I agreed. "I wouldn't just run out on you, either. You're going to need me to give you a break every few days from the kids. It's not like I'd never come back; I'm not moving to China or anything." I thought of how she had carried me to the bathroom after I had puked on her in the ER (and probably bled on her as well) and I felt horribly guilty. She ran after me last fall after her birthday and cared for me like an invalid for the last three months because of my knee. She had been pregnant all that time, with this worry about losing the baby, but she hadn't thought twice about caring for me. "You put your pregnancy at risk to take care of me?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't going to let your father try to take care of you in the hospital when you got your period. I doubt either of you would ever recover from that."

"But you put so much at risk…"

She shrugged. "I'm… I'm somebody who loves you a lot, Alexis. That wasn't a choice. I did what had to be done."

"Why?"

"Why are you asking why?" she sniffed again. "A mother does that for her child. I know you've been through so much with Meredith in the last week. And I keep telling myself that you don't want me as a mother, you've already got one, I can never take her place… but I can't help it. The night you got mugged, I kept on calling your phone because I woke up from the worst nightmare, and it was all about you dying. I was losing my mind when Richard got the call that you had been shot. I was sobbing when the ER doctors told us that you were in surgery and the outlook was good. I got really cold and I started shaking I was so relieved. My vision went from splotchy to almost blacking out-"

"I'm sorry I put you through that."

"You couldn't help it."

"I could have been more careful. If I had been-"

"Those moments, those careless, reckless moments when you got hurt? Those got you to here. To be this girl who's talking about moving out and taking care of herself. There have been moments where all we've worried about was keeping you alive, you moving out was the last thing on our minds. But those moments I put my pregnancy in danger were worth keeping you alive. They will always be worth that."

I realized that I had gotten to this point at a high price: Dad and Kate were paying it, too. "Tonight Ben said… he asked me to give him a call when I was happy with myself… when he was leaving for home. He told me he wants to be with me, not the anorexic me. He made a distinction between the two. He likes the me that's not sick all the time and he said he saw that tonight."

"How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "I want to be normal. I want to have a boyfriend and to lose my virginity and be a grown up who's really living, not like I am now. But Ben's not going to want me. Not the me that can hardly keep herself alive without feeding tubes and doctors and parents to watch her like a hawk. But Ben can't love the eating disorder out of me. You and Dad can't, either. Neither can Meredith. I…" I gulped back the lump in my throat. It wasn't like I had been so happy at eighty-three pounds, I was actually unhappier then than I was now. It dawned on me that my happiness had nothing to do with my weight. "I need to make myself happy. Nobody else can do that for me but me."

I had a task in front of me that night; to figure out how the hell I was going to make myself happy.

---

A/N- Can I just say that I've never been fond of Meredith? I really think she's a social climber who uses Alexis to get back into Castle's life and mess around for her own selfish reasons. I'm sure the actress who plays her is a nice person, but my God, is Meredith awful! Poor Alexis...