Well this is by far and away the longest chapter I have ever written. There's a couple of passages of speech in here I have used and edited: one from Owen Hunt, on Grey's. The other is my own personal writing, for Jones' speech towards the end of the chapter. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

The picture of her in the newspaper article flashed through his mind, burning his eyes. Her sun-kissed blonde hair falling just above her shoulders, her dark blue eyes sparkling even through the paper, the brilliant smile plastered across her face making him weak. He'd read the article that many times, he knew it word for word.

"Driving while under the influence of alcohol…", "unnecessary death of a promising young writer…", "she went above and beyond what was expected, to get what was needed…", "publicly spoke about her struggles with alcohol; sharing her determination to get sober for her family on her increasingly popular blog…".

The caption under her portrait had read: "Lucy Ophert, a once in a lifetime journalist, encroaching boundaries no one dared too before, seen here at the Ascot Writers Guild royal gala at the New York Museum of Modern Art earlier in the year on the arm of her partner, crime writer Richard Castle."

The sympathetic journalist had listed her along with 4 other notable people who had passed away within the past year from substance abuse or suicide. Hers was the first of a series of five articles aimed at bringing awareness to the affects of substance abuse and the stigma surrounding suicide and mental illnesses.

He had brushed his hand over her paper face, wanting to touch her, feel the curves of her face beneath his fingers one last time; tears fell onto the page, blurring the words. Voices behind him startled him, causing a flurry of a rush as he crumpled the paper into his hand and hurriedly wiped away his tears with the other. He didn't even look over his shoulder as he strode out of the room, packing the newspaper article deep into his jacket pocket; he didn't want to face whoever it was, and whatever questions they would have.

Kate threw her head back and and stretched her arms out wide, the breeze lifting the hair off her shoulders slightly. Breathing deeply, Kate felt the crisp salty air stinging her nostrils and energizing her lungs. The beach had always done wonders for her soul, bringing peace and light to even the darkest corners of her heart, and when Claire had asked her if she wanted to join in on a casual supervised visit to the nearby Jacksons Bay, Kate had almost jumped for joy.

It had been a long time since Kate had been anywhere "normal"; somewhere she wasn't asked about the last time she considered harming herself; where she wasn't constantly faced with signs advising against hiding pills, or counsellors who, no matter how friendly they were towards her, were always on the lookout for damaging behavior. Somewhere where no one knew about her recovering drug addict status, or her mother's murder.

They were only a small group: Kate and Claire were joined by Rick, Kenzie, Jones and the centre's other counsellor, Dean. Each patient reveling in the freedom that walking barefoot in the warm sand brings, the two counsellors quietly talking to each other. They had been blessed with a perfectly warm day and blue skies over their heads, the sea breeze was gentle and invigorating.

Jones had distanced herself slightly from the group, wandering away down the beach to sit at the waters' edge. Kate stepped up behind Rick, who was in the process of building an extravagant sand castle; Kenzie was wandering around the sand, collecting driftwood and shells for decorating purposes.

"You really are a child in a man's body." Kate teased, raising her eyebrows at the look of intense concentration on Rick's face as he moulded handfuls of sand into the shape he desired. He grinned up at her, shrugging. "It soothes me, doing something constructive. It's relaxing." He glanced down the beach towards Jones, sitting cross-legged on the wet sand. "Besides," he continued thoughtfully, "holding onto my childish enthusiasm keeps me grounded. Whole."

Kate nodded, having followed his gaze to the stiff posture of Jones. "I get that." She paused, chewing her lip in contemplation. "Have fun with your castle." She laughed as one of the turrets he was trying to cement had crumbled beneath his fingers, stepping away from him to make her way down to Jones.

"I will! It's gonna be amazing!" Rick called after her, setting about rebuilding his turret.

Kate passed Kenzie and his armful of driftwood, shells and stones on her way down the beach. She smiled at him and he nodded in return, puffing slightly with the effort of carrying his treasures through the loose sand. She'd never really had much to do with Kenzie apart from their group sessions; whenever they had free time, he always seemed to seem out Rick. Kate paused, just a few steps away from Jones; she hadn't moved a muscle while Kate was approaching and Kate had thought she was meditating. Now that she was close to Jones, Kate could see she was staring out to sea, lost in thought. Debating whether or not to approach and disturb her, Kate stood there, frozen in place. Just as she was about to turn around and head back to sand-castle central, Jones turned her head slightly and spoke quietly.

"Please stay."

Kate breathed out slowly with a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding. She closed the distance between them and sat a couple of feet away from the older woman, crossing her legs and wiggling her toes into the sand beneath her. She looked down at the grey sand, taking great care to notice the tiny shimmers of vibrant blues, greens, yellows and reds from stones eroded long ago. Waiting, without agenda, Kate sat quietly, content to bathe in the warmth of the sun above her and the sand below her, allowing the gentle breaking of the waves to rush through her mind, clearing out the dust and the grime from her soul. The two women sat like that, cross-legged and silent, gazing out to the bright blue horizon for what seemed like hours, until Jones broke the silence.

"How much longer have you got?" She asked quietly, glancing quickly at Kate before shifting her gaze back out to sea.

Kate thought for a second, mentally tallying up the weeks that had passed and the weeks still to come. "Three weeks, all going well." Unsure if she should carry on speaking, Kate studied Jones' carefully until she saw the slightest tilt of her head, indicating her to continue. "I thought I'd be in here for much longer when I first arrived, I was a complete mess. It's only been in the past couple few weeks that I feel like I've made any sort of progress."

Jones nodded again, twisting her fingers around. "You look healthy."

"Thanks. It's been a rough road that's for sure." Kate answered, the silence bearing down on them once more.

Minutes passed again; a lone seagull waddled along the beach, picking at worm holes in the sand expectantly.

"What are you…uh, I mean, why are you…" Jones trailed off softly, her voice wavering with every word spoke.

Kate swallowed. Her hands shook slightly as she took a deep breath, steeling herself to voice the word that still gave her so much to fear. "Cocaine," she murmured, casting her eyes down to fixate on her hands clasped together. Just the mention of the drug that had almost taken her life caused her heart to beat faster, her throat to constrict tighter, and her breathing to get shallower.

"It's not easy is it? Losing your life to a drug." Jones stated, her soft voice somehow sounding stronger and more confident with her matter-of-fact opinion.

Kate looked up at Jones, feeling her heart relax. Realizing she felt safe in the presence of the older woman, Kate smiled lightly. "It's the definition of hell. Well, for me anyway."

"Me too." Jones agreed, finally looking Kate in the eye. "What's your story, Kate?"

"What's up, Katie?" Johanna questioned, eyeing her pyjama-clad teenager curled up under her duvet on the couch.

"Nothing." Kate mumbled, pulling the blanket up over her head.

Johanna set down her coffee on the side-table, stepping over Jim's discarded slippers to sit by her daughters blanketed figure.

"Did something happen at school?" Johanna pushed gently, reaching out to lay a hand on a stray foot.

"No." Kate answered unconvincingly, wiggling her foot under her mothers' touch.

"Mmhmm. Your about as good a liar as your father when I ask him if he finished the cookies." Johanna teased gently.

A long sigh escaped from under the duvet. "I don't know what to do, Mom."

"About what, bug?" Johanna prodded softly.

"All my friends at school…" Kate's voice trailed off, stalling.

"Your friends at school…?"

Kate shifted under the blanket, still clutched tight over her head. "Everyone knows what they want to do after high school."

Johanna nodded to herself. Kate had always been so sure of herself growing up, but Johanna and Jim had felt it was inevitable that Kate would go through some self-doubt and insecurity during her high school years.

"How do you feel, with all of your friends being so self-assured?"

Another long sigh, and a lone arm emerged from beneath the duvet, pushing it back to revel Kate's tear-stained baby face. "I feel stupid." Her voice was quiet and vulnerable.

Johanna moved her hand to grasp the free hand of Kate's that was now resting on top of the duvet. "Katie, baby, look at me." Johanna waited until Kate met her eyes. "You're not stupid because you don't know what you want to do with your life. Some of the most interesting people I know still have no clue what they want to do with their lives."

Kate scrunched up her face, not convinced. "I feel like a failure. Everyone else already has their story planned out and I haven't even started a draft."

Johanna tightened her grip on Kate's hand. "You're not a failure, Kate. Your Father and I are so proud of you. And one day, you're going to have an incredible story to tell. I know it." Johanna smiled, pulling on her daughters' hand to encourage her to sit up next to her, which Kate did so albeit slightly unwillingly.

"You think so?" Kate asked softly, her large hazel eyes watching her mother.

Johanna smiled and pulled her daughter into a bruising hug; Kate wrapped her arms around her mother, taking comfort from the warmth held between them.

"I do." Johanna whispered. "Your story will be amazing."

"Kate?" Jones was looking at her with concern, waving a hand in front of her face.

Kate blinked, coming out of the daze she was in. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling her eyes sting with the burning sensation of the onslaught of tears.

"Don't be." Jones reached out a hand and took one of Kate's, squeezing it gently. "Where'd you go?"

Kate shook her head slightly, the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. "Your voice, the way you said my name…it reminded me of how my Mom used to say it. She used to tell me I'd have an amazing story to tell one day, but my story is anything but amazing."

"We all have something dark inside of us, Kate. We all have stories we're ashamed of. But everything you've been through makes you who you are…it redefines you. It changes you." Jones finished softly, dropping her gaze from Kate's as her thoughts seemingly drifted off. Kate waited for her to come back, watching as she shook her head slightly as if clearing water from her ears. Jones turned back to Kate, smiling sadly and motioning for her to talk again. Kate complied easily.

"My mother was murdered," she started softly, her voice trembling. Jones squeezed her hand gently, offering small comfort. Kate swallowed, and closed her eyes, allowing the words she had been holding inside to fall from her mouth without hesitation. "My father and I were waiting for her to join us for dinner at our local restaurant, but she never showed up. Her phone kept going straight to voicemail. When Dad and I arrived home, there was a policeman waiting on our doorstep. She was st-stabbed," Kate faltered, sobs interspersing her voice at the memories of the policeman in their lounge that night, delivering the news. Clearing her throat, Kate carried on strongly. "Stabbed in a dark alley on a cold Autumn night. They left her where she fell, slumped against a rubbish bin. I…held it together as best I could for the first week, but after her funeral I fell apart. I started drinking, and staying out all night. I got introduced to some not nice people who brought me into the world of drugs. I smoked marijuana heavily, I shot up heroin a couple of times…but then I found cocaine and it was love at first taste." Kate paused again, the tears falling thick and fast now, her breathing raspy and choked. "I completely lost myself to cocaine, and I overdosed in a grungy motel room, on my own…I almost died. I was so selfish but it was the only thing that killed the pain inside me! I let her down, I let my dad down!" Kate's voice was raised now, the anger she had become so familiar with in the past few months resurfacing. "Everyone keeps telling me that it will get better but WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY KNOW? MY MOTHER IS DEAD!" Kate yelled out to the ocean, gripping Jones' hand tightly in one hand, the other hand clenching a fistful of sand. The sobbing was wrecking havoc now, her entire body shaking, her eyes and nose streaming, air raking through her mouth to her exhausted lungs. Five minutes passed; Kate sobbing her heart out for the first time since her mothers funeral, Jones sitting there listening, her free hand coming to rest on top of their two joined hands. Finally Kate opened her chapped lips and spoke again. "My mother is gone, and there's a hole in the middle of my heart and it's never going to mend. No matter what I do, it's never going to be enough. I miss her so much…I'm so broken, without her. I want my Momma. I want my Momma." Kate whispered, the vulnerability and despair taking her back to when she was eight, and lost in a supermarket while grocery shopping with her parents.

Jones shifted, letting go of Kate's hand and moving in closer to her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Jones gently guided Kate until her head was resting in the curve where Jones' neck met her shoulder. All the while Jones was softly murmuring the same three words over and over. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Rick?"

Rick looked up from his slouched position on the couch to see Kate standing in front of him, regarding him apprehensively. Rick looked back down at his hands, clenched together, hiding the crumpled piece of newspaper from Kate's view.

"Kate, I don't want to be rude but I need you to leave me alone. I have no desire to talk to you." He bit out, his jaw twitching.

Kate contemplated him, his demeanor. Making her choice, she stepped forward to sit on the chair closest to the couch, disregarding the glare that was thrown her way

"I'm not leaving you." Kate announced quietly. "You don't have to talk. Or you can talk, if you want. You can yell, you can punch this pillow," Kate offered, tossing a cushion onto Rick's lap. "But I'm not leaving you."

Rick regarded her contemptuously, but felt his resolve begin to crumble. No one ever stayed.

"You read the paper then."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. I did."

Rick sighed, forcing a smile while he struggled to sit up and face her properly.

"I've been doing so great…I've been managing her death, my near death, rehab…so great." He repeated quietly, his blue eyes shimmering. "And then I saw that fucking article about her, and suddenly I'm back there, on that night, watching the firemen pull her lifeless body from the mangled wrecked of a car. I don't know how I could have been so naive to think I could get better…to think I could live without her. I can't do this…honestly, some days, I wish I could get my hands on a bottle of whiskey and down the whole bottle and just end it all." Rick admitted, diverting his eyes from Kate's so he didn't see the pity that was flooding through them at his words.

"Rick," Kate began, leaning forward towards him, "This stuff that you're managing-you're not supposed to be managing it. You're supposed to be feeling it. Loss, and grief, and horrendous pain. It's normal. But instead of allowing yourself to grow through your pain, you hide from it. You bury it, instead of dealing with being hurt, and alone, and afraid that this awful empty feeling is all there is, you shove it deep down into your soul. And to escape feeling these things that are totally natural, you do whatever it takes to dull the sensation." Kate paused briefly, realization flashing through her brain. "I do whatever it takes to dull the sensation. But we're supposed to feel, we're supposed to love, and hate and hurt and grieve and break and be fucking destroyed, and we build ourselves up to be destroyed over and over and over again. But that is being human. That's being alive. That's the entire point of humanity. Don't…don't avoid your pain. Don't extinguish it." Kate trailed off quietly, watching his reaction carefully; she couldn't read him. "You don't have to let her go. You don't have to be at peace with what happened, or why it happened. Hell, you don't even have to want to live right now. But you do need to live, for Alexis. For your mother…for me. Please." She finished, reaching out a hand tentatively towards Rick, unsure if the gesture would be reciprocated.

Rick studied Kate with tear-filled eyes, his breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand and slipped it into hers, their fingers curling into each other softly.

"Everyone from my old life couldn't understand what I was feeling. And it was so difficult for me, not having someone who understood. Because having someone that understands; that feeling of not being alone, opens to door for me to talk. Thank you for that." Rick said gently, his eyes never leaving Kate's.

"Always."

"When?" Kate asked timidly, feeling sure that Jones would know what she was asking. Jones tightened the arm that was wrapped around Kate's shoulders and hugged her closer.

"Kate, I've done my time with pain. My whole life is pain, if I'm honest. So I can't tell you when or how you're going to be okay. You're going to have bad days; horrendously bad days, even. Days where you won't even bother emerging from under your blankets. But you will get to a place of certain healing, of somewhat compromise. A place of relative peace, where you can stand to acknowledge your pain. And one day, you will open your eyes and finally understand how everyone else tolerates their pain. You will breathe in shakily and try to smile as you feel that the weight of your burning soul is slightly lighter than it was yesterday. You may not ever be free of your pain, but you will, in your own time, arrive at a place where you don't hurt as much." Jones assured her quietly.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being honest."

Jones smiled slightly, the warm weight of Kate on her side reminding her of her own daughter, and how she used to cuddle into her just as Kate was doing. "Of course."

A throat cleared behind them. Startled, Kate and Jones broke apart and turned away, seeing Dean standing behind them. "Hey, uh, we need to get going back to the centre. You two ready?"

Kate nodded slowly, forcing her stiff limbs to cooperate and stand up. Jones followed suit, brushing wet sand off her legs as she got up.

"I know I'm ready for dinner." Kate laughed as her stomach rumbled loudly. They'd been on the beach for a long time, hours, it seemed. The late afternoon sun was dropping slowly, casting an ethereal glow over the beach.

The trio wandered back up the beach to where Rick and Kenzie were putting the finishing touches on their enormous sand castle. The sculpture was almost as high as Rick himself standing up tall, and intricately decorated with sticks, stones, shells and carefully carved lines.

"Wow, guys. That's impressive." Kate mused, slightly taken aback by the artistic talent shown by the two men.

"Don't sound so surprised. We have many talents!" Kenzie exclaimed jokingly, as Rick nodded emphatically beside him, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Everyone ready?" Claire queried, having wandered over from where she had been stretched out on the sand. "Lets go home."

As everybody fell instep towards the path leading back to the centre, Rick and Kate lagged at the back.

"You okay?" Rick murmured, glancing sideways at Kate.

Kate looked at him, seriously considering her answer before she spoke. "Yeah…yeah I am. And I will be."

Rick offered a quirk of a smile, the one that softened his eyes in a way his normal bright, beaming grin didn't.

"I'm glad."

Kate gently slipped her hand into Rick's, interlocking their fingers. She looked down at their clasped hands, then back up at Rick's caring face. She returned the smile he was giving her, feeling safe in the knowledge that what she had just told him was the truth. She would be okay, in time.

There's a hole in the middle of my heart again,

can we start again?

can we start again?

There's a hole in the middle and it never mends,

it never mends.

But I've gotta try to start again.

Conrad Sewell

What did you think? This is the last official chapter, but there is an epilogue coming! Thanks for your support.