The moment of self-doubt is over now. Thank you all for helping me through it, now let's not talk about it anymore. ;)
I tried to follow some of your advice, so summary has been updated as well as the genre.
For those Caskett fans out there (everyone I presume, how could you not?), Castle will, at one point, enter this story, I promise. (Next Chapter)
He was slipping away from her, as much as she tried to hold on, he was slipping away from her.
Over the next few weeks, Kate tried, as best one can, to settle into her new placid routine. Breakfast, group therapy, arts and crafts, lunch, yard, therapy, diner, free time and repeat, over and over again. She felt as though she was in prison. She wasn't made for this life, she wasn't meant to be in here.
She understood she had a problem, and it became clearer and clearer every day, as certain memories came flooding back. She had needed help, she just wasn't sure she could handle it, any of it.
Every day, she took her meds was a day where a little more of the life she wished she'd had flew away from her. He was slowly disappearing and replacing him were the memories of the things she wished she hadn't done, of the things she wished she hadn't said. He was slipping away from her. Every night she went to bed alone, she craved his touch a little more. Every night she stayed in this place, she woke up feeling just a little bit lonelier.
She now had a clearer picture of what the last five years of her life had been like, but she wished she hadn't. Some blimps of her life were clear as day, some were still a blur. She couldn't manage to uncover the last few months of her life. She could feel it, something had made her snap out of reality, something had made her psychotic. She had a problem before, but something had made her crazy. Still, she couldn't seem to grasp it. She had tried, she had asked, but her psychiatric, never really answered her questions. It was frustrating. She was frustrated.
Some days she desperately wanted the answers but most of the time though, she wished she hadn't remembered any of it; she wished he'd stayed, that they'd stayed. She understood, but she wanted to grasp at those delusions for as long as she could.
She now had more images of herself shoving needles down her veins, of slurred, incoherent speeches, of exchanging sexual favors against crack and waking up in puddles of her own puke than she had of him, his eyes, his smile, his touch. Her life was slowly coming back to her and somehow, she wished she could shove it back into a box and never think about it again, like none of it had ever happened. She desperately tried to hold onto him.
She hated herself, and she hated her life. She wanted it back.
It was 9 am, Thursday morning of her 10th week. It had already been a couple of days since she had started to. She was seated where she always was at this time of day, like clockwork, just waiting for the cocktail to be delivered. The nurse gave her the cup and she brought it to her lips like she always did; only she didn't swallow. She shoved the pills in the corner of her mouth and pretended to.
She must have done a poorer job than she had expected because unlike the previous days, the nurse eyed her weirdly as he walked over to the next patient. Glad he hadn't lingered and applauding her chance, she slowly got up, but quickly turned away from Nurse Tristan.
As she took a step in the opposite direction, Tristan was beside her in a matter of seconds, "Kate, I'm going to need you to swallow those pills."
She turned around and looked in his pleading eyes. She hesitated because somehow, she knew none of it was rational.
Kate just swallow. Just take them.
But she didn't. She couldn't.
Loneliness, fear and revolt came barging in as she vigorously shook her head, tears uncontrollably streaming down her cheeks.
"Kate?" the doctor called out as he stormed into the common room area, someone having tipped him off.
The nurse was still by her side, holding on to her forearm when Dr. Marx got to her. She was trying to catch her breath, trying to control the sobbing, wiping away the streaks with the back of her hand. He told the nurse he'd deal with her as he motioned him to leave them and gather the curious faces her meltdown had attracted before she caused a riot among the more instable ones.
He faced Kate when he added firm but friendly, "I don't want to. But believe me, Kate, if I have to I'll make you take them."
She shook her head again, trying hard to contain the tears and control the quiver of her lips.
"Kate, don't make me do this."
"No. Please. Wait." Her words were punctuated by sobs and hiccups.
She spit them out of her mouth, the bitter taste catching up, they were slowly disintegrating at the bottom of her cheek. She looked at the slobbery pills nested in her palm with distain. "Please, don't. I don't need them anymore. I don't want them anymore."
Watching the scene unfold, the nurse was ready to bounce back. The doctor once more gestured him to stop. The woman had been through enough, even without the anti-psychotics, he felt he could reason with her. Blunt force was only a last resort, he needed to understand; he needed her to trust him.
"You have to take them, they're helping you. You've been-" He gestured, gently pushing her palm back to her mouth.
"No!" She shouted as she threw the pills to the floor, her sobbing gaining in volume. "No!"
"Why, Kate?" he asked. Everything had been going well ever since the morning 3 weeks ago, too well it seemed.
"I have to go back. I have to go back!"
He waited a couple of seconds silently for her to calm down.
Her breathing was still loud, but it was slower, when she added, a little more controlled, "I want to go back. I just want him back."
"Kate we've already talked about your delusions. They're not real. They're only in your head."
"They feel real and that's enough for me. Do you have any idea how much real sucks right now?"
"It doesn't have to, Kate."
She pondered on the thought a minute, biting on her lower lip.
"I… I… I was in love with him."
Sorry, it's short. Little Lost quote there. ;)
Thoughts? Comments? Complaints?