A/N: hi friends! just a heads up that there is a content warning for this chapter regarding alcohol abuse.

Early November, Castle's Loft

She didn't call.

Rick spent the next few days wrestling between giving her space or checking in. He had lost track of how many times he'd written and deleted the same text message, how many times his finger hovered over the call button on her contact page. When Tuesday rolled around, he'd made sure to get to Crime 101 early with her latte in hand, but when the clock struck 9:30, she wasn't there.

He made sure he took good notes, in case she asked for them later. After the lecture, he sat with his notebook, but he couldn't bring himself to write. He was worried about her. She hadn't missed a class all semester as far as he knew until now and though he hoped this wasn't the case, he had a hard time believing he didn't have something to do with her absence. He should've been better, he thought. He should've been there for her at the club. He should have told her about Alexis. He should have told her what he's been wanting to tell her for weeks.

He shakes from his spiral of self-criticism when his phone vibrates and reaches for it at hyper speed to read the text he'd received. A rush of extreme excitement that Kate had texted him is quickly squashed when the screen reads 'Meredith'.

She was asking if she could drop Alexis off a half hour early tonight. Sure, he sends back.

After a while longer of trying to convince himself to write something, students in the next course time slot start filing into the lecture hall. He gathers his things and leaves, makes his way toward the English department for his next class.

That evening, Meredith arrived around 4:30 with Alexis, who still waking from her afternoon nap. "Richard, what's wrong with you?" Meredith asks as she rolls their daughter's stroller into the apartment.

"What do you mean?" Rick asks, solemnly.

"I mean, your face. You look...sad," Meredith says.

"It's...nothing. Don't worry about it."

"I won't, but you'll give Alexis a mood disorder if you act as miserable as you look."

"That's not–whatever. Thanks. I'll see you in the morning," Rick says, shuffling his ex back out of his apartment as quickly as she arrived.

He got Alexis situated on the play mat in the living room and started getting her dinner ready. They went through their normal routine; dinner time, play time, bath time, bed time. As downtrodden as he was feeling about how things were with Kate, as bad as he was feeling about himself, spending time with his daughter was life affirming in ways that still amazed him. Before she arrived, he never imagined himself as a father, much less a single father, and especially not at 24. But Alexis, though a huge surprise, was the best thing that ever happened to him. He had to keep going, keep writing, for her.

After reading Alexis a bedtime story and the toddler had drifted off to sleep, he pours himself just a finger of scotch over a few ice cubes and sits down in his office chair. He opens his lap top, let's put a loud sigh, and immediately shuts the lap top. He couldn't take it. He had to say something. So he opens his texts, clicks on Kate's name, deletes the message he had sitting in his drafts, and writes Hope you're okay, and hits send. The ball was in her court now. He opens his lap top again and is in the middle of typing his password when he hears a knock at the door.

"Kate?"

He didn't know who he had expected on the other side of the door, but he felt a sense of kismet at play given that he had texted her no more than a minute ago. He stands in the doorway, staring, for quite a while, he realizes.

"Can I come in?" She finally asks, clearly nervous that the answer might be 'no'.

"Oh, uh, of course, of course, I'm sorry," Rick fumbles. "Please, come in."

"I'm really sorry for dropping by unannounced but I just really needed to–". She doesn't even finish her sentence before reaching for his face and gently pulls it to hers. Their lips meet and it's electric. Rick is caught off guard for a moment, but as he feels her warmth, her hands on his skin, he leans in closer and deepens the kiss. His hands meet hers, fingers intertwined, tongues meet cheeks, and she moans softly as they separate. Their eyes meet and they both feel it, but neither say it. Then, the tears.

"Kate?"

She tries so hard not to let them continue to fall, but as the tears slowly run down her cheeks she says, "I'm sorry I didn't call."

"It's okay," Rick tells her. "But I did miss you in class today."

That sweet comment seemed to open the flood gates as Kate lets out a sob and buries her head into Rick's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Rick asks. He softly pats her back and pushes her hair from her eyes and she looks up at him tearfully.

Kate gulps down her distress and whispers, "I have to tell you something."

Three days earlier, Kate's apartment

She had just returned home after fleeing from Rick's loft, still dressed in his clothes from the night before. She tosses her Halloween costume in her laundry basket and then slumps down on the couch. She was in desperate need of a shower, wanting to wash the last twelve hours down the drain. No, that wasn't true. There were a few things she'd like to forget, but honestly, she'd consider most of last night and this morning happy memories. That's why she felt like kicking herself for running. She was always running. She was tired of running. Instead of making her way to the bath, Kate just sits in the quiet, dark, lonely apartment, still clothed in the comfort of Rick's oversized crew neck and sweat pants. After a while, a loud ring from Kate's phone interrupts the silence.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Katherine Beckett?" A woman asks on the other end of the line.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, who is this?"

"Hi, Katherine. I'm sorry to be calling you so early on a Saturday, but this is Cindy from Water Ridge Recovery," says the woman.

"Oh, gosh, yes, hi," Kate says. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, last time we spoke I told you I'd call when a spot for your father becomes available. I'd like to invite Jim to join the program," Cindy explains.

"Wow, that's–that would be great," Kate states. "I haven't talked to him about it in a while, but I think he'd be open to it."

"That's good to hear," Cindy says. "We do have quite a long waitlist, so I can only extend the offer through the end of the day today and Jim would move-in on Monday."

"Okay, um, that's really...fast," Kate sighs.

"I understand," Cindy assures her. "I can let you go if you're able to get back to me at this number by 8PM tonight."

"Um, sure, yeah. No problem. Thanks, Cindy," Kate says before hanging up.

Two days earlier, Upstate New York

"Is all of this really necessary, Katie?" Jim Beckett asks his daughter from the passenger seat of his car. They'd been on the road for about an hour after taking most of the morning to yell at each other, pack Jim's things, and then yell some more. Still, Kate had gotten her father to agree to go to the treatment center, she could handle some short-term resentment if it meant he'd get better in the long-run.

"Dad..." It took a lot of strength and focus for Kate to not lose it again, but she had to stay clear-eyed on the highway.

"I'm just saying, I could have tried something in the city," Jim shrugs.

"We've talked about this," Kate sighs. "This is a really great program. Best in the state."

"Best in Canada, maybe," Jim grumbles. The treatment center was in a small town on the New York-Canada border nearly 7 hours from the city, but Kate knew the distance would be good, for both of them.

"Just think of all the fresh air you'll be getting," Kate deflects. "All that fishing and hiking. I'll have to drag you back to the City, I bet."

"Dragging my dead body, maybe," Jim retorts stubbornly.

"Dad..." Kate sighs again. He never means to hurt Kate with his morbid remarks, but they still sting.

They sit in silence for a while. A long while. It was midafternoon and the November sun was beginning its descent by the time they arrived at their cabin in the Adirondacks. They carried in the food cooler and their duffles, Jim plopped down at the kitchen table and Kate on the couch.

"This is going to work, right, Katie?"

"I honestly don't know, Dad," she tells him. "You have to want to get better."

"I do, Katie, you know that, right?"

"Dad..." Kate sighs again. "I really hope you do."

Jim stands up and shuffles over to the pantry in the kitchen. He reaches up to the top shelf and pulls down a large bottle of vodka, less than half full. He sets it on the counter and pulls out two glasses from the cabinet over the sink. He rinsed them out with water from the faucet as it had been months since they had last used them. He drops a few cubes of ice into each and then pours about three fingers worth of vodka into each glass.

"What are you doing?" Kate asks. Jim drops a glass into her hand and sits back down at the table.

"Come join me, Katie?" He motions. Kate doesn't move at first. "Please?"

She hesitantly obliges and Jim softly smiles. "My last drink," he tells her. "Since I won't be there for your birthday, thought we could celebrate now. And then we'll dump the rest down the drain."

Kate is weary but she smiles softly and lifts her glass to her father's. "Sláinte," Jim whispers before holding the glass to his lips and takes a long gulp of the clear liquid. Kate takes a significant gulp, too. She hadn't realized it at first, that he'd miss her birthday, and Thanksgiving, possibly even Christmas. They didn't really celebrate much any more anyway, but they had talked about taking a weekend trip to Atlantic City for her 21st. It probably wouldn't have happened, but there was no doubt about that now.

They sit silently sipping on their vodka neat, but eventually Kate goes to the fridge to pull out a can of white soda to mix it with. Jim eyes her pour and she explains, "that vodka is too cheap to drink on its own."

Jim chuckles and sends his glass her way to top off as well. Kate was nervous when he finished his drink and there was still a fair amount left in the bottle. She really hoped that he'd stay true to his word and the rest would go down the drain, but she realized the likely possibility that he'd pour himself another. "Just one more," was the phrase she probably heard most from her dad over the last year and a half. So when he poured those drinks, Kate knew she'd dread this moment, but she was so tired of fighting. Jim picks up the bottle, the moment of truth. He uncaps the bottle and stands up.

"Shall we?" He gestures to the sink.

"I think you should do it, Dad," Kate nods. Jim shrugs and walks to the kitchen. Kate gets up to watch him as he really does it. The cheap vodka flows from the bottle to the drain. Once the bottle is empty, he screws the cap back on and tosses the plastic across the room unceremoniously into the recycling bin.

"I love you, Katie," Jim says.

"I know, Dad. I love you, too," Kate smiles.

One day earlier, Water Ridge Recovery Center

"Okay, that's everything," Kate says as she hangs the last shirt from Jim's duffel bag in the closet of his room at the rehabilitation facility. He had his own room but shared a common area with six other addicts around his age. Kate only met them in passing in the hall way, but she felt some relief that several of them seemed ordinary, just like her father. He'll do well here, she hoped. "What do you think?"

"I think you should leave," Jim mumbles.

"Dad, we didn't even get a tour of the center yet," Kate says, believing at first that her father was joking.

"Why would you need a tour? You're not the one getting left here alone."

"I guess that's true. But you're not alone, Dad. There's lots of other people here. Maybe you'll make a friend."

"Right so we can fall off the wagon together after we get out of here," Jim huffs.

Kate knew it was coming. Withdrawal made people angry and mean, at best, so she really tried not to take it to heart.

"Well, should we at least get a snack before I head back to the cabin?"

"Katie, leave," Jim demands, not quite yelling, but loud enough for someone in the common area to hear.

"Um, okay, if that's what you want," Kate sighs, heading toward the exit.

"What I want is to go home!" Jim explodes. "I can't believe you're abandoning me here! I'll never forgive you for leaving me here!"

Kate picks up her pace, trying very hard not to let anyone see her cry. She gets to the car before the tears come in full force. After she regains some of her composure, she starts the ignition and starts the two hour drive back to the cabin. As she went through the motions of cleaning up the cabin for the winter, she couldn't help but think about Rick.

Oh god, Rick!

She'd told him she'd call.

She grabs her phone, hoping for a miracle, but she already knows that the cabin was a no service zone.

Present, Castle's Loft

"I am so sorry I didn't call," she tells him as she finishes recapping her tumultuous last few days. "As soon as I got back to the city, I knew I needed to come straight here."

"Please, Kate," Rick sighs. "I wish I could have been there to help you."

"That's sweet," Kate smiles. "You're the only person I've ever told about my dad's drinking."

"When did it start?"

Rick asks the question but then the baby monitor radiates Alexis' cries of distress.

"Uh, sorry," Rick sighs. "She's teething, so she's having a hard time sleeping."

"I can relate," Kate chuckles. "Not to the teething part."

Rick laughs as Kate's cheeks turn red. He stands up from the couch and asks Kate if she'd accompany him to Alexis' room. She hesitates but agrees. They walk up the stairs together as the toddler's cries get louder. Rick directs her to the rocking chair in the nursery as he picks up his daughter and hands her a frozen teething ring to suck on while he rubs baby orajel on her gums burgeoning with teeth. He softly sways back and forth to lull Alexis back to sleep and he looks over at Kate as the toddler's eyelids grow droopy.

"You're freaking out again, aren't you?" Rick asks softly.

Kate nods, "Trying not to."

"She usually nods right off, so it should just be a few more minutes," Rick tells her.

"That's okay. I get it," Kate whispers back. "Well, sort of."

"Not much of a baby person, are you?"

"I just haven't been around them very much," Kate sighs and then changes the subject. "And it started right after my mom died."

"Hmm?" Rick forgot that he'd asked a question before Alexis's teeth interrupted.

"You asked when my dad started drinking," Kate whispers.

"Right." Rick looks down to see Alexis asleep, so he settles her back into her crib and he and Kate silently walk back downstairs. "Uh, w-when?" Rick gulps. "If, if you want to share, I'm here."

"She died almost two years ago," Kate tells him. "It'll be two years in January. It still feels like yesterday. I was home for winter break. I went to Stanford, then, so I was home and she was supposed to meet me and my dad for dinner. She never showed and when we got home, a Detective Raglan was waiting for us. To tell us that mom was...was murdered."

"Oh, god," Rick finds himself at a loss for words. "I'm so sorry."

"He started shortly after we finished moving my things back from California into my apartment here," Kate continues. "I know there are lots of ways to treat alcohol addiction, but I'm really hopeful this program will help."

"You did the right thing," Rick assures her. "For him. And for you, too."

"I hope so," Kate shrugs. "I can't lose him, too."

Rick doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say, in fact. So instead he reaches for her hand, the one that isn't still healing from the frat boy sucker punch. He softly strokes it, rubbing circles into her first set of knuckles.

"Thank you, Castle," Kate whispers after a while. "For listening."

Rick into her eyes and assures her. "Always."