There were two visitors at her bedside when Rick returned to her room a few hours later; a tall, Hispanic man who turned to him with a fierce protectiveness in his piercing gaze, and a smaller, kinder looking guy with happy blue eyes and a smile as he looked between Kate and the doctor.

"Oh, guys, this is my doctor, Richard Rodgers," she introduced him with a broad smile and his lips quirked at the sight. She looked the happiest he had seen her all week. "Rick, these are my boys from the precinct, Ryan and Esposito."

The friendlier of the two, Ryan, stepped forward and shook his hand enthusiastically. Esposito merely nodded at him from his place at the head of her bed.

"We couldn't believe it when we got the call from Beckett's dad saying she was awake and ready for visitors," Ryan said happily, looking back at Kate with a fondness that Rick didn't perceive as romantic, but sibling-like.

"It's too bad you weren't here sooner, you missed Lanie," Kate informed him while he cautiously came towards the trio.

"Lanie?"

Kate nodded. "My best friend."

"Yeah, she cried all over Beckett for at least five minutes," Esposito chimed in with an amused smirk that Kate glared at him for.

"Did your dad stop by too?" Rick asked and felt his heart clench when Kate's eyes lowered.

"No, not today."

Jim hadn't been back since the first morning he'd stopped by. He had called a couple of times, but what they had both heard on the phone hadn't sounded too promising.

"Maybe he'll be by tomorrow," Ryan suggested hopefully and he watched Kate muster up a smile for the man at her side.

"Yeah, maybe."

Esposito's cell began vibrating loudly in his pocket and he scowled as he pulled out the device and saw the number flashing across the screen.

"Body?" Kate assumed and the boys nodded in unison.

"We'll come back as soon as we can, Beckett," Esposito told her solemnly, leaning in to gently hug her.

Kate appeared surprised by the sudden act of affection, but embraced him firmly, doing the same when Ryan mimicked the action.

"Good luck with the case," she called as they headed towards the door. As Ryan went ahead though, Esposito slowed his pace, stopping long enough to momentarily speak with Rick.

"We're counting on you to get her back to perfect health," Esposito muttered, clapping him roughly on the shoulder. "Don't let us down, Doc."

"I'll do my best," he agreed when Esposito released him and continued towards the exit. Rick waited until he was sure the two detectives were out of sight before rubbing at the juncture between his shoulder and his neck where Esposito's hand had come down.

"Well, he's protective."

"At least Ryan seems to like you."

She was laughing at him as he scoffed and came around to her bedside, plopping down next to her bent knees.

"Opening a flower store?"

She grinned, her eyes roving fondly over the multitude of colorful bouquets that consumed nearly every flat surface in her room.

"Most are from the precinct, then those two and Lanie brought their own bundles. It's sweet."

"I'll have to stop by a shop on my way home. I'd hate to not contribute."

Kate bumped his elbow with her knee. "You contribute enough."

He had many ideas of how he could contribute even more-

No, he had to stop thinking like that.

"How was PT?"

She groaned and dropped her head to the pillow behind her.

"It was hell, like always."

"Three hours a day with Patrick too much for you?" he teased, knowing she would never admit to being pushed too hard, even if it was the truth.

"I can't wait to be back to normal so I can kick Patrick's ass," she grumbled and he couldn't help laughing, because yeah, Patrick the physical therapist could be a jerk sometimes and if anyone was going to kick his ass, he would be perfectly happy if it was Kate Beckett.

"Otherwise, are you doing okay?"

Her eyes opened and hesitantly met his; he already knew what she was going to say.

"I'm worried about my dad."

"I tried to get ahold of him today, Kate, but he isn't answering. If you want me to, I can go down there, check on him myself-"

"No, I'm not going to make you do that," she said adamantly, but it was too late, his mind was set now. He would look up Jim Beckett's address if she wouldn't give it to him and he would go help her father, help them both.

"Rick," She curled her hand around his wrist, closing her fingers around the bone with surprising firmness and forcefully stealing his attention back. "I'm telling you no."

"I heard you. Don't worry."

She gnawed on her lower lip, a signature habit that told him she was contemplating whether or not it was safe to believe him, so he quickly took his chance to change the subject.

"So are you finally going to tell me about your exciting life as an NYPD detective?"

Kate narrowed her eyes at him, completely aware of what he was attempting to do, but apparently decided to let him off the hook and continue on into the topic of her work life.

"What are you so eager to know about?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want to tell me. Being a cop sounds like an incredible job."

"It has its moments," she nodded, her eyes going just slightly out of focus as her mind seemed to wander. "Definitely had a rewarding quality that made it worth it."

"What department did you work?"

"Homicide."

He could feel his entire face lighting up with giddy intrigue, causing hers to scrunch in confusion.

"Why do you look so excited? That usually sends most men running."

"Are you kidding? Your job has to be the coolest. I always wanted to shadow someone like you for-" Rick immediately shut his mouth, momentary panic spreading through his bones at the brief slip and almost full spill of his greatest secret. He liked Kate, a lot, and he trusted her too, but she couldn't know. No one could know.

"Rick?" she called curiously. "Shadow me for what?"

"Oh, I meant – just in general, you know? To see what it's like."

She still wore a bemused expression, a hint of suspicion lurking in the lines of her face, and he really had to be more careful. She was a detective, after all; she wouldn't need much to figure him out.

She nodded skeptically, despite how clear it was that she didn't believe him. "Yeah, well, it's not like it is in the movies."

"That's exactly why I wish I could follow you around."

"Maybe - once that's physically possible - you can."

"Really?"

"If Captain Montgomery agrees to it. We've had a few ride alongs in the past."

"You're the best patient ever."

She shook her head, amusement evident in the playful quirk of her lips, and he felt something like dread swirling in the pit of his stomach at the way his heart swelled with joy to see her smile. It had only been a week, but he was already so attached…

"So, tell me about you," she mused with an attempt at a grin, closing her eyes and turning over slowly to rest on her side.

Realizing he was likely going to be there longer than he'd intended, Rick transferred from her mattress to settle in the uncomfortable chair next to her bed that he was growing all too familiar with and smirked at her request.

"What could you possibly want to know?" he inquired jokingly, but his palms were beginning to sweat with apprehension.

"Your story," she supplied simply. "You want to know mine, I want to know yours. Tit for tat."

He considered her for a moment, the gorgeous woman who had been in a coma for nearly two years but was suddenly very much awake and asking about his life like she actually cared.

"And you know you can't say no to me. I'm your favorite patient," she pointed out cheekily, cracking an eye open and breathing out a laugh when she saw his raised brow.

"Quite the assumption there, Detective Beckett."

"C'mon, Rick," she pressed while she squeezed her frail fingers around one of his and - when exactly had his hand become entwined with hers?

He sighed and propped an elbow on her bed as he spoke.

"Well, I'm a native New Yorker, born to a single mother slash Broadway star."

"A Broadway star, huh?"

"Yep, the great Martha Rodgers."

Her eyes lit up, turning a luminous shade of green.

"Oh, my mom loved her," she said with a sad, reminiscent smile.

"Tell me about her," he replied softly, careful to venture into the topic of her deceased mother, especially while the pain was still fresh. "Tell me about your mom."

She was understandably reluctant, but Kate carefully propped herself up on an elbow – one of her newest accomplishments – and began describing her mother, sharing memories and smiling fondly as she went along, and he quickly found himself smiling too, the love and admiration in her words infectious. Somehow they ended up circling back to talk of careers, how she had followed the same path as her mother into law, originally intending to become the first female Chief Justice, but going in a slightly different direction at the last second and becoming a detective instead.

"Our cases rarely crossed, but with her being a pretty infamous defense attorney, we butted heads sometimes. It was always interesting," she chuckled.

"It sounds like you both enjoyed your work," he observed quietly.

"You think I'll be able to go back?" she asked, turning those hopeful hazel eyes on him. "To the NYPD?"

"I think so. Of course, you know you have to get through this first, and then I'm sure you'll have to contact your captain, iron out all the details. Otherwise, I don't see why not."

"Montgomery will let me come back," she sighed out with relief. "Maybe I'll even get to work with Ryan and Espo again."

"Your team?" he surmised and she nodded, her eyes resting contently on their tangled fingers and the way he was stroking her knuckles with his thumb.

"The guys who came by earlier. They're like brothers to me."

She yawned and he decided he should probably leave her. It was getting late and they both knew she needed her rest, but as if sensing his intent to go, she spoke before he could.

"Rick?"

"Hmm?"

"What about you? Why'd you become a doctor?" she questioned, effectively sabotaging his plan to move towards the door.

"The money," he answered with a shrug, but she narrowed her gaze on him, silently demanding the truth.

He wondered if this was how she forced people to talk in interrogations.

Rick gently extricated his hand from hers and clasped them together in his lap. She had just given him a handful of pieces to her past, pieces of her story like he had always wanted, and he knew she deserved the same from him. But he had never shared this part of his story before, not with anyone. He wasn't sure he could.

"When I was in college, I got a girl pregnant," he began solemnly, his voice so low he wasn't positive she could hear, but when he looked over, she was staring back at him intently, so he continued. "We got married, and she had the baby a few months later. My daughter was beautiful, and I loved her more than anything else in the world." Rick smiled down at his hands, picturing his perfect little pumpkin in the way he liked to remember her. "But then… then Alexis got sick, and it all happened so fast. The cancer spread and she was gone before her first birthday."

"Rick," she whispered his name, but he didn't look up at her – he couldn't, not until the stinging in his eyes subsided.

"I couldn't go into cancer treatment, it would have been too painful, but I wanted to do something that would help people. So I applied to med school, divorced Meredith, and I've been working in the ER for almost ten years."

An uncomfortable silence engulfed them for a few minutes, but he had needed the time to regain his composure to meet her gaze again.

"What would you have done otherwise?" she inquired softly, watching him with gentle eyes that were alight with the small, golden flecks of intrigue.

Rick sat back and thought about that for a moment, mainly for her benefit because he already knew the answer, had always known.

"I suppose I would write if I could."

"Books?" she murmured, her eyes slowly sliding towards her bedside table, where a few novels from his home had taken new residence. He wanted her to have something to occupy her time during the day when she wasn't working on her recovery, so he had brought her books.

"Preferably."

"You've never done any writing of your own? You know, outside of work?"

"I've dabbled a little here and there, nothing special," he hedged and even through her drowsy state, he knew she could sense the almost awkward quality of his voice.

"You'll have to let me read your work sometime. I'll give you some honest critique."

She was teasing him if the tired quirk of her lips was any indication, and he smiled back even while her eyes slipped closed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kate."

But she was already asleep.