Kate stirred awake beside Rick with the sound of his voice and maneuvered her body upright. She rubbed her eyes clear, noted the brief amount of time that'd passed since they'd fallen asleep, and her concern only grew as she listened without context to the only side of the phone conversation she could hear.

"No, she's here with me," Rick said. "She's here. Hang on. It's Lanie." He passed Kate his phone in the darkness having no idea the reason, but knowing, given the tone of Lanie's voice and the hour, it certainly wasn't a good one.

"Lanie?"

"Kate, I've been calling your phone for half an hour. Where are you?"

Kate felt terribly confused, the fog of sleep no help. Her phone was with her, of course it was, but suddenly she had no idea where the hell it was. "I don't know what…I'm at the loft with Rick. Lanie, what's wrong?"

"Kate, your dad was in an accident. He's here at the hospital."

Kate sprang from the bed, startled Rick. "What are you talking about? What kind of accident?"

He got up and switched on the bedside lamp, went to her as she began to pace the floor. "Kate?" He tugged at the back of the shirt and halted her movement. "What's-" A silencing hand stopped him from saying more.

"All I know is he was driving and the car was t-boned," Lanie told her. "He's got a couple of cracked ribs and a pretty good cut on his head. They have him here in the ER."

"I'm coming," Kate said and she shoved the phone into Rick's body.

"Tell me what's going on, Kate." He slid his feet hurriedly into his shoes as she did. "What happened?"

"You have to drive me home. Can you bring me home?" She tried to move past, but he stopped her. "I need to go home, Rick. He was in an accident. He's at the hospital."

"Who was? Your father?"

She pushed her fingers through her hair, almost violently so. "Yes, my father. I need to go," she said again, even more insistent.

Rick grabbed her by the hand, stopping only to fetch her bag from the chair in the corner, and they headed straight for the garage and his car.

xxxx

Rick broke about a dozen traffic laws getting Kate up to the hospital, but they arrived in just over an hour, thanks to the nonexistent traffic of too early morning, Kate practically leaping from the Benz as he pulled up to the entrance for Emergency. He parked as close as space would allow and followed after her, finding her in a corner of the waiting room with Lanie by her side.

"He's got six stitches on his forehead and he's grumpy as hell because he's sore, but he'll be fine. And I'm sorry, but just so you know, when I couldn't reach you, someone called your aunt, too."

Kate squeezed her hand. "Okay, I'll call her. Thanks, Lanie," she said, Rick seconding the sentiment.

"He's under concussion monitoring, so let me go make sure Dr. Blaine's good with you seeing him and then I'll come get you. Breathe, Kate, okay? Breathe," she said, Kate's shoulders nearly at her ears with her worry.

She couldn't bring herself to sit, her adrenaline pumping with the shock of it, and Rick could only do what he imagined she wanted: give her the space to be whatever she needed to be. He never took his eyes off of her, though, his way of being there with her absolutely.

Kate circled a small section of chairs over and over again in wait, the floor beneath her feet already practically worn with her perpetual movement, but it wasn't Lanie who came out to get her.

"Ms. Beckett?" Kate heard the voice and turned immediately, Rick remaining seated close by. "I'm Dr. Blaine. I attended to your father this morning."

"How is he?"

"He's doing well. He's resting as comfortably as he can right now. The force of the accident cracked a couple of his ribs, but nothing worrisome, no internal bleeding or anything to that degree, and it won't require any kind of hospital stay. He's going to be in some pain for a little while, but that should diminish over the next few weeks, and anti-inflammatories like naproxen or ibuprofen and certainly ice packs will help with the discomfort. I don't know how active your father is on a day-to-day basis, but if he's able to take it easy and not engage in any unusual or strenuous activity, that will certainly aid in recovery, as well."

"Lanie mentioned he was being monitored for a concussion?"

"Yes, that's correct. He did take a hit to the head and he informed us he was experiencing some light dizziness. As a precaution, we've been monitoring him. I'd like to give it another few hours, just to be on the safe side."

"Absolutely, okay," Kate said.

"We stitched up the wound on his forehead and we'll send you home with care instructions for the laceration. The stitches are of the dissolvable variety, so he won't need to see anyone to have them removed. You'll obviously want to keep an eye on the area for any signs of infection, but if the instructions are followed, I don't foresee that. Look, I know getting a call from the ER can be quite overwhelming, but your father's very lucky, Ms. Beckett. He's going to be just fine."

"Thank you, Dr. Blaine. Can I go back and see him?"

"Absolutely, come on back."

Kate turned to Rick who'd heard every word and he nodded, gave her a little smile. "I'll be right here," he said and she went off with the doctor.

xxxx

They were all supposed to have breakfast together later that Sunday morning, the two of them along with Martha and Alexis, but given their unforeseen departure from the city and the hour at which it'd happened, neither was yet aware their plans would be no more.

It was early, before-dawn early, but Rick called Martha, anyway, to tell her about what'd happened.

"Oh, Richard, that's just awful. Thank heavens it wasn't more serious. How's Katherine holding up?"

"It all happened so fast, Lanie calling and us racing up here. It was a lot, but I think she's okay. The doctor explained everything a few minutes ago and she's with Jim now, so."

"She's a tough cookie, that gal of yours, and Jim's beaten tougher foes than this, so I'm sure he'll soon be as good as new."

Martha wasn't aware of the extent of Jim's struggles. Kate certainly hadn't spoken openly about them, and Rick knew it wasn't his place, not if he wanted to continue to remain someone she trusted, so he'd talked only of the shooting and not much more.

"Okay, Mother, I'm going to let you get back to sleep. I'm not sure what the day's going to look like, yet, if she'll want me to stay or just to head back to the city. Once I talk to her, I'll let you know. Apologize to Alexis for me about missing breakfast and tell her I'll talk to her later, too."

"I will, darling. You do whatever you have to do. We'll be fine here. Please make sure Katherine knows we're thinking of her and her father."

"Thank you, Mother," he said, and after he hung up, he tried, though futilely, not to think about what his life might be like if something were to happen to the only parent he had.

xxxx

Jim was cleared and released from the hospital later that morning, and with Jim's car having been towed from the accident scene and Kate's still parked at the train station, Rick drove them back to the house, all three exhausted following a night of essentially no sleep.

Rick helped Jim from the car, his discomfort unmitigated by the aid, while Kate went up and unlocked the door, and what she found inside only added to the distress of the past eight hours. It appeared as though someone had forced their way in, though there were no outward signs of such, and left boxes scattered all over the living room floor, emptied of their contents, like they'd been searched for something.

She stood frozen on the landing wondering if she should even go inside, her father and Rick having now made their way up the few stairs that separated them. "Dad," she said, but nothing else came out.

"It's fine, Katie, just go," Jim replied like he knew everything was fine, his voice a combination of aggravation and pain. She and Rick shared a brief look, and then she stepped back and allowed them first entrance. "I want to go to bed," he announced, and Rick followed his lead.

"Okay, Dad, I'll come check on you in a little bit. Do you need anything?"

"I don't need anything," he answered gruffly, and Rick turned and mouthed that it was okay before helping him upstairs.

Kate pulled her bag from her body and dropped it unceremoniously at her feet. "What the hell did he do?" Kate whispered aloud though not with that intention. There were papers and newspaper clippings and photographs strewn everywhere, moments of their family captured and documented over the years, and she didn't understand why.

She'd already begun piling them back up when Rick returned, their first moment alone in several hours, and without a word, he took her by the hand, pulled her up from her knees and into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said at her ear. "He's okay," he repeated again and again.

"Thank you," she said when he finally relinquished his hold. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Whatever you need, you know that."

She surveyed the room around them in its disarray and could only shake her head in confusion. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know what he did."

"We'll figure it out." He kissed her forehead. "Why don't I go put on some water and I'll make us some tea and we'll get this cleaned up together."

He went off for the kitchen with her silent blessing, but as he got closer, he happened to notice light trickling into the hallway from her mother's office, and upon further investigation found its door open, the scene on the other side similar to what they'd walked into in the front room. Entire shelves of books had been sent crashing to the floor, along with several of the photographs in picture frames that accompanied them, the sweater that normally hung from the back of Johanna's desk chair no longer there.

"He never comes in here," Kate said, Rick surprised by her presence. The missing sweater was in her hand, and he recognized it instantly. "It was on the floor by his chair." Crossing the threshold, she placed it back at her desk where it belonged, on the desk a single picture frame left upside down. When she picked it up, the loose pieces of glass tumbled to the wood beneath and filled the quiet room with the sound of anger or sadness or both, the joyful faces of her just-married parents staring back at her from beyond the jagged shards that remained.

Rick could see it in her eyes, the pain she felt in seeing her sanctuary in that state, in knowing its tranquility had been invaded and disturbed. "I want to help you, Kate. Will you let me help you?" he asked, because he wouldn't have dared presume to touch anything there without her blessing.

She nodded because in that moment it was easier than a word, and they began to pick up the books together and set them right, though for Kate, no matter how they arranged them now, the room would never feel the same, because it would no longer be as her mother left it.

"He told me he wasn't drinking and that the accident wasn't his fault," Kate said as she sat there next to him, still, a pile of books gathered in her lap. "He said he just needed to get out of the house. I mean, what if it'd been like any one of a thousand other nights, Rick? What if he'd hurt someone, or killed someone? What if…?" She could even finish the thought, but Rick knew.

He reached over caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I want to say the right thing, but I'm not sure there is a right thing. I just want you to know how much I love you."

She looked around the room at all her mother's things and came back to him, her calm in the storm. "I love you, too." The cover of the book atop the stack she'd collected was precisely as she felt, broken. "Rick, I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she said, utterly lost.

xxxx

With Kate's aunt in place to arrive from Philadelphia later that afternoon, Rick ended up driving Kate to the train station to retrieve her car and then returning to the city. She'd told him he was welcome to stay, of course, but he wanted them to have the time alone together as a family, which he hoped, though without having verbalized it, might bring about a conversation that was undoubtedly growing more and more necessary, certainly for Kate's peace of mind.

"You really didn't have to drive all this way, Aunt Theresa. I could've handled it," Kate said as they sat for a chat upon on her arrival.

"Come on. He's my brother. He was in an accident. He was hurt. I'm here. Besides, it's barely a three-hour drive, and I didn't get to see you two at Thanksgiving because of the cruise. So, where is the patient, anyway?"

"He's been resting upstairs all day. He was uncomfortable and he didn't get any sleep at the hospital."

"From the looks of it, you haven't gotten any, either. You okay?"

If ever there was a question. "Honestly," Kate said tucking her feet up onto the couch, "I'm so many things, I'm not sure what I am."

Theresa sprang to her feet. "This definitely sounds like a conversation that needs coffee." Kate didn't have her usual dose that morning, so she easily agreed. "No, I've got it. You sit," she said and went off to the kitchen, and while she was gone Kate went upstairs to check on Jim, who was fast asleep.

She clicked off his television and stood watch over him for a few minutes, his breaths heavy and deep. She hadn't seen him that peaceful in so long, and she savored the sensation. It was all she wanted for him, its attainment painfully unachievable absent his want of the same, and that was one of her greatest struggles. How was she just supposed to continue to accept a choice when that choice was killing him-killing both of them?

Kate went back downstairs and Theresa brought out their coffee, and they sat together and caught up for the better part of an hour. "You deserve it, you know," her aunt said of her relationship with Rick. "You're a wonderful girl, and you have one of the best hearts of anyone I know. Just make sure he always treats you like he knows it, too."

"Thank you, Aunt Theresa, and he does, don't worry."

"And, maybe, he signs a book for me. That would go a long way towards my continued support. I'm just saying."

Kate laughed a tiny laugh. "I think I can probably make that happen."

"Good, now back to your father. He'll feel like garbage for a few weeks, but good as new after that, yes? I mean, as good as Jimmy can be. I know he's not the same Jimmy as before."

Kate knew if there was anyone who'd understand, it would be Theresa. She loved her brother terribly, and she reminded him of it often, and in so many of her own ways, but she hadn't seen all that Kate had seen, experienced all that Kate had experienced being there with him every day, and through no one's fault but her own, no one knew because Kate hadn't shared most of it.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Aunt Theresa," she said.

"Do what, sweetie?"

"I don't want my life with Dad to be about this anymore, to be about him drinking and me feeling like shit for it, and I know that probably sounds selfish, but it's how I feel. When I got the call in the middle of the night about the accident, the first thing that went through my mind was how I hoped he wasn't drunk, for Christ's sake. It shouldn't be like this."

"It's not selfish, Kate. Don't say that, and you're right. It shouldn't be. It's not who he is, and I'm sorry you've been going through it alone. I should've been here and I should've done more. So, you tell me what you want to do and we'll do it. I'll stay as long as you want me to. They said it's supposed to start snowing later, anyway, and I'm definitely not going anywhere in that."

"I don't know what to do. I don't even know if there's anything I can do. That's the problem."

"Have you told him how you feel, like you told me?"

"It's been so long since we had an actual conversation about anything, I don't know if I remember anymore."

Theresa stood up and held out her hand. "Well, we're going to have an actual conversation now, the three of us. Come on. You want to go in and sit in the office until he wakes up? Maybe your mom will send us some good vibes."

Theresa loved Johanna like she was a true sister and she'd taken her loss incredibly hard. Whenever she was at the house for a visit, she and Kate always made sure they found time to spend together in Johanna's space. The ritual had first begun when Jim initially sought help and was gone for a time years before, when Theresa had stepped in to be with Kate in his absence, and they'd continued it ever since.

Kate took her hand and Theresa pulled her up and into a hug. "I'm sorry it's been so long, and I'm sorry I haven't been here to help you."

"I'm just glad you're here now, and I love you," Kate said, Theresa likewise.

xxxx

They were sitting in the office together when Kate heard the noise in the kitchen, and she gave Theresa a curious look because she couldn't believe Jim would be up and moving around enough to get there without them knowing it. She saw the level of help it required of Rick to get him from the car up to his bedroom when they got home from the hospital, so for him to have gotten downstairs on his own seemed almost impossible.

She found him standing at the counter with a plate and a loaf of bread already out, his glass just beside, and her disbelief quickly began to morph into anger.

"Dad? What are you doing?"

"Jimmy, you should be in bed," Theresa chimed in, having followed just behind Kate.

"I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday. Is that okay?" Jim winced with the effort of the words, yet he continued to fuss with the bread bag's tie.

"I'll do it, Dad. Just tell me what you want." She moved in beside him. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"

"Because I don't need it," he said snippily.

"Hey, Jimmy, lose the attitude. Let your daughter make you a sandwich and we'll go sit in the other room."

Begrudgingly, he let Theresa loop her arm around his to help him into the living room, the mess he'd left behind the night before now cleaned up, though the boxes remained stacked against the wall.

"Bring me a beer, too," he hollered as they left the kitchen, and Kate's jaw instantly clenched.

She had two choices as she stood there, either bring him the beer he'd essentially demanded or don't. She thought of her mother's office and the way they'd found it, of the way he'd spoken to Monty, of the accident and his favorite glass and the dreaded morning routine that began her nearly every day, and then she thought of Rick. Because of him and because of them, her want of more had become a need of more, and in that she knew.

"Here, Dad," she said handing him the plate and nothing more. "It's turkey and cheese." It was already in her voice, some change, something new.

"Where's the beer?" he asked without a thank you.

Theresa nodded at Kate in silent support.

"I'm not bringing you any beer, Dad. You just got out of the hospital after a bad car accident."

Jim set the plate on the arm of his chair. "I'll get it myself," he said and went to get up.

"Give it a rest, Jimmy," Theresa said. "Listen to your daughter."

"Listen to what? What are you even doing here, Theresa?"

Kate perched herself along the edge of the couch, her pulse racing with the weight of what she was about to do. "Listen to yourself, Dad. You need help. This family needs help-you and me. I get up in this house every morning and I wonder what I'm going to find when I come downstairs. I moved back here, we live together, and I barely see you. Instead of going anywhere or talking about anything, about Mom, or about the shooting, or about the job, you drink. That's all you fucking do, Dad, is drink."

"I'm not goi-"

"Don't," Kate said jumping all over his attempt to stop her. "You know, I can't even imagine what Mom would say if she saw you like you are now, saw how you trashed her office like you didn't even care. I don't know what the hell you were doing in there last night, but that's all I have of her, Dad," she yelled in her hurt. "I have that and I have you, and you don't care. My life has been on hold for seven years, and you don't care. You're killing yourself, and you don't care. Well, I'm done, Dad. I love you, but I'm not doing this anymore. You need help, and until you get it, I have to be done."

"Look at her, Jimmy," Theresa spoke up when he huffed. "Look at what you're doing to your beautiful girl and to yourself. You know Johanna wouldn't want this for either of you. You fixed this once. You can do it again. I know you can."

Kate didn't even realize she'd started to cry, but she wiped a tear away when it slid down her cheek.

Jim pushed slowly forward in the chair, the room now quiet, and he rolled his body sideways until he was able to get himself up, his plate dropping to the floor unacknowledged.

"Jim," Theresa said firmly, but he turned his back to both of them and shuffled off to the kitchen without a word. When he was gone, she came for Kate and took her in her arms once again.