Takes place somewhere in the middle of season 6 pre Veritas.

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3:14 a.m.

It must've been the sheets. Perhaps the late cup of coffee contributed too. Maybe she just needed a warmth bath. Then again this was the fourth night in a row, conscious far longer than she could bear. Asleep for three hours, then up till dawn. Four nights. She would've done anything at this point just to get even one more hour of sleep.

She looked up at the ceiling, physically pained with the thoughts trickling out of her, escaped from some leaking jar in her mind specifically made to store these things away. She wasn't sure if these thoughts haunted her to wake, or if her lack of sleep permitted them to break free. They washed over her face, keeping her more aware of them than she had been in a long time.

Breaths dragged out and near quiet, the silence of the room, the loft, all of it teased her. Her thoughts became vocal, whispering to her threats and promises, reminding her of her darker hours and that there would be more to come. Her chest sank deeper and deeper as visions of blood, death, tears, and more silence crept over her as a veil, now preventing any room to see anything else. Her stomach turned, the strength in her limbs pulling inward in a strain and collapsing, along with her ability to breathe properly.

It didn't take long for Rick to wake beside her during her fit. Several moments passed before she could feel his hands on her, trailing her skin with his fingertips to assess it, look for any sign of physical danger. Thereafter he sought for her mental danger, taking a hold of her neck and tugging her face to his to bring her back. He repeated her name over and over, but she couldn't respond just yet. She rested her hands on his when he moved them to her cheeks, in attempt to dry the skin she hadn't realized now dripped, a soaked canvas of different pains. Exhausted, her forehead collapsed on his, and she fought for air, dragging each try. He held her still, supporting her up, sensing how limp, how weakened her body became.

"I'm sorry," she managed after a moment. He shook his head over and over, reassuring her with a hand wiping over her face. Before any of them could continue he pulled her into an embrace, pressing himself fully into and around her, careful to link every crevice, mending her and cradling her with his warmth.

"What happened?" He asked when he let her go, pulling up her bowed head. Her skin just hung, and something inside him fell, continued to fall, endlessly, a well of pain edging deeper and deeper the longer he stared at her.

"It's everything," she started. She swallowed and exhaled a broken breath. "I've been like this for last few days."

"Tell me about it, you've barely slept."

"You knew?"

"The first night it happened, I knew. When you didn't say anything the first day I figured it was a bad night and that was that. When it happened again, I wasn't sure to bring it up or not. Last night, you remember, you were too pissed about Gates to talk at all before bed. Now, well, here we are."

A faint grin set on her lips, but it faded away as she gathered words to explain herself. Where could she start? Was there a beginning, a starting source to this? "I've just been overthinking I guess, about everything. I've been thinking about my mom, about the wedding, about Bracken…it's—it's these little things that occur to me, you know? What if we never get to him? What if all that we've done, all that we've been through, all the people we've dealt with to get to this point, to him, what if we don't get him? How am I supposed to live with that, Rick? How are we supposed to go on with our lives constantly haunted by all of this? Will I ever be relieved? Will you be able to deal with me and all that comes with this? I don't know that I can do that to you, make you take on all my baggage—"

He shook his head again, this time more vigorously, maintaining a lock on her eyes, unblinking and focused.

"First of all, you're forgetting who your fiancé is. I'm me. And you know who me is. Do you really think we're going to let your mother's case get tucked away again? Do you really think I will let that happen? And second of all…do you know me? You do remember this right—"

He reached across her to pull out the drawer, and reached in for the chest that held her chain of Johanna's ring, and the engagement ring. He took them in his hands gingerly, securing one in his hand and the other held in front of her face.

"What does this mean to you?" He asked, his voice lowered, the words leaving his lips swiftly to caress her heart. She bit her lip, mindful of the what to say, but hesitant to say it. "I love you, Kate. I love you when we're laughing together late at night before we sleep. I love you in the morning when you first get up and out of bed. I love you when you're working and I see how focused you are. I love you when you're skeptical of my ideas, when you're surprised by them, and when you entertain them because you trust me. I love you when we're fighting about what time we agreed to be ready for dinner. I love you when you're awake, when you're sleep, when I see you, when I don't see you. Every day I find new ways to love you, more reasons to love you. And I haven't stopped from the first time I told you. I'm not sure it's possible that I can even do that.

"Your baggage is a part of you. None of it is easy, but it doesn't make me love you less. It's more, if anything. That's what this ring means. I didn't promise to marry you. I mean I did—but that's not everything. I promised that—it's you. I promised that it's you I will love, all of you, always, for the rest of my life. No matter what happens."

Kate batted her eyes as he spoke, swatting away more tears in her lashes. She took him by the neck, hands secured on each side, her thumbs rubbing the skin in affection. She couldn't help the tremble in her voice or the dryness from holding back tears. She could only manage a broken, "I love you." With it she hooked her lips into his, out of a cocktail of gratitude and love and happiness.

After a moment and she released, he wrapped himself around her and lulled her to sleep, combing through her hair with his fingers. He kept his mouth on her forehead breathing her in and out, cleansing her mind of worry and doubt. Just before they both fell off the brink into slumber, she managed more words, through dragged words only their hearts could hear.

"Thank you for finding reasons to love me."

He smiled, and slightly bent his head to speak. "I don't need them."