Rick had an hour before he needed to be at the hospital for his shift, so he had an hour to find out how bad of shape Jim Beckett was really in. Of course he hadn't told Kate, but it had still been fairly easy to find her father's address in the database. The place he ended up at wasn't the brownstone Kate had described when they'd talked about her mother the night before, but he had figured Jim would have moved from the family home. He couldn't imagine the older man willingly staying in the empty space his wife and daughter had once occupied.

"Mr. Beckett," he called while knocking firmly on the apartment door.

When he received no answer, he tried again, but after three attempts, he was ready to turn away, just try again tomorrow, but then he heard the shuffling of footsteps.

Rick prepared for the worst, expecting to see her father drunken and incoherent, but when the door swung open, Jim Beckett looked…sober. Tired, but sober.

"Doctor Rodgers?" He appraised him with confusion as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but the presence of Rick at his doorstep suddenly had his body going rigid with fear. "What is it? Did something happen to Katie? Is she-"

"No, no, Mr. Beckett, I'm so sorry. Kate's fine, I just - I came over to see if you were too."

"Ah," Jim nodded slowly, understanding steadily creeping into his eyes. "Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Well, I would have minded less after six in the morning, but you're here so let me start a pot of coffee and we'll talk."

Rick nodded appreciatively as Jim led him inside the small, one bedroom apartment. The white walls were mostly bare, no pictures or artwork, and there were only a few pieces of furniture – a couch in the living room area, along with a chair and a coffee table as the centerpiece – scattered throughout the space, but otherwise, the place had no warmth, no personal touch. Purposely blank.

"I didn't mean to disappoint her," Jim said, interrupting Rick's visual assessment of his home and shuffling in from the tiny kitchen with two mugs, handing one to Rick. "I want to be there for her, but I needed some time."

Jim continued towards the couch, easing down onto one of the three worn cushions and glancing over his shoulder expectantly at Rick, who abruptly stepped forward, causing his coffee to slosh over the rim of his cup and onto the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger. He hissed quietly and sucked on the burned skin while he vigilantly maneuvered his way to the sofa.

"I don't mean to be rude, sir, but I thought you'd be at the hospital every day now that Kate's awake."

Jim sighed, taking a sip of his coffee before leaning forward to set it down on the wooden table a few feet in front of them.

"I want to be, but I had to get better first. I realize you both noticed how bad it was when I was there last week."

Rick diverted his eyes down to the black liquid in his mug.

"After the accident, after I buried Johanna and moved Katie into the nursing home, I took up the habit of drinking. It wasn't serious at first, just a few fingers of scotch every night, something to ease the ache," Jim had to look away and Rick shifted uncomfortably on the couch, unsure suddenly if coming here had been such a good idea. "I don't even know when it became an addiction, but it's consumed my life for the last year and a half and I'm learning it isn't as easy to quit as I had hoped. I started going to AA a few days ago, got rid of all the alcohol, but I'm still…I still struggle."

"Withdrawals are hard," Rick murmured quietly, having seen the effect of the same addiction on many patients in the past.

"Very. The last few days have been hell," Jim huffed, scraping a hand through his salt and pepper colored hair. "I want to be completely recovered when I see her, because the look on her face when she smelled it on me that very first day…I hated myself for causing that, for giving her something besides herself to worry about."

Rick remembered that look well, had it ingrained into his memory, and he'd hated it too, even resented the man on the couch beside him at the time for eliciting that expression of concern from Kate when she was still so weak and vulnerable.

"I think you're doing the right thing, Mr. Beckett."

"Call me Jim." He smiled, a smile that resembled his daughter's and forced Rick to smile back.

"Jim," Rick returned. "Could you possibly tell Kate this? Maybe during one of your phone calls? I think it would help her get through her recovery a little easier."

He hesitated, but Jim eventually nodded. "If it will help. I just - didn't want to get her hopes up, just in case…"

"If you ever feel like giving in, Mr. Be- Jim, you can always call me," Rick said, retrieving one of the business cards he always left in his coat pocket and digging out a pen as well, scribbling his personal cell number on the back. "From my experience, I've noticed it helps to talk, takes your mind off the thing you want to do."

He handed the card to Jim and saw the gratitude bloom across his features, even as he tried to subdue it.

"Thank you, Doctor Rodgers."

"Rick, you can call me Rick."

"Rick," he amended. "Thanks for looking after my daughter."

"Of course, it's my job."

Jim gave him a sly look, his eyes alight with something Rick couldn't quite understand, but his watch beeped and he couldn't spend the time needed to decipher it.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but my shift starts soon."

"Not a problem, son," Jim said, rising from the couch to show him out. "Feel free to drop by whenever you like, but try calling first next time?"

"Yes, sir. My next visit will be at a more reasonable hour," Rick promised once he was standing in the hallway again.

"I'm hoping your next visit will be under different circumstances."

"I'm pretty confident it will be," Rick said with conviction.

He was quickly learning the Beckett's were strong people. It wouldn't be easy for either of them, but he had faith both father and daughter would overcome their weaknesses. They had to.

Rick barely made it on time that morning after his detour to Jim Beckett's and wasn't able to stop by Kate's room like he usually would before a shift, but he made it to see her during his lunch break, though she hardly seemed up for company.

"Hey, Kate," he greeted with a smile he reserved only for her, but she kept her gaze trained on the open window.

With a furrowed brow, Rick moved to her bedside, reached for her hands to test her grip like he always did when he came to see her. She mechanically lifted them, placed her palms to his, but the numbed look of indifference remained on her pale face.

"Hey," Rick tried again, squeezing her fingers lightly, but she wouldn't squeeze back. "What's the matter? You're usually much more vocal during my check ins."

"What do you want me to say, Doctor?" she sighed, withdrawing her hands from his and dropping them back to her lap.

He was confused by her behavior, but cautiously took his usual seat on the bed beside her hip.

"I wouldn't mind if you started by telling me what's wrong."

She turned her head and scowled at him.

"What isn't wrong?"

He waited patiently, knowing he would have to tread lightly here, and watched her stubborn resolve slowly weaken until finally she relented and told him the source of her frustration.

"I talked to my boyfriend today."

"Oh?" he said, shifting uncomfortably because he could still remember her boyfriend and he couldn't say he had ever been too fond of the guy.

"He's married."

Shit.

"Kate, I'm-"

"I also tried calling my dad, but he won't answer me. Or anyone else apparently. I thought – I thought me waking up would have helped, not make him worse," she added with a self-deprecating little chuckle that he could tell she used to hold back the tears building in her eyes and clogging her throat.

He bit his tongue to hold back the truth about her father, wishing he could tell her and put her mind at ease, but he knew it wasn't his place. Jim had to be the one to fix that.

"I don't know what to do anymore."

Words - something he was actually good with – refused to come, but he already knew she didn't want them. They wouldn't help, they wouldn't fix the relationship she was in two years ago, they wouldn't bring back her mother or help her father, and so he settled for resting his hand on her knee and squeezing in a gesture of comfort.

He realized too late that the physical contact was just what she needed to push the tears over the edge.

"Two years," she whispered through trembling lips. "Nearly two years and everything in my life has changed. Everyone's gone."

The tears were multiplying and her fingers shook as she slowly lifted her hands to cover her eyes, and Rick wasn't sure what to do. His instincts urged for him to touch her, to hold her, but he didn't want to do anything inappropriate or upset her further and-

"I just wish I had my mom," she whimpered from behind her hands, her fragile spine bowing while she hunched forward and Rick moved closer, encircled her upper body in his arms and gently pulled her into his chest, letting her hide her face in his shirt.

He wanted to tell her how he was so selfishly glad she had woken up, how especially happy he was that she had woken with him as her doctor, but he was no one compared to the people she was currently mourning. It didn't matter how grateful he was to have her awake and alive and in his arms, because he didn't matter, not to her.

The practicality of his thinking stung, but it helped his reasonable side - the trained doctor within - kick in.

"It's going to be okay, Kate," he soothed into her hair, combing his fingers through the lengthy chestnut locks, down her delicately heaving back. "I promise you it'll get better. It's just going to take some time."

Her short nails dug into his lower back, her grip on him too weak to cause any sort of discomfort, and she rested her cheek flat against his collarbone. Her willingness to remain in his embrace surprised him, but he suspected she could use the support of another person despite the bold streak of independence he had seen in her from the day she had opened her eyes again. Everyone needed comfort sometimes, even Kate Beckett.

He held her until the tears dried and her breathing returned to its steady pattern, convinced she had fallen asleep against him after a few minutes, but then she pressed her cold nose to his neck, caused his arms to instinctively tighten around her, and yeah, she was definitely awake.

"I didn't even love Josh, we were never going to last, I just…I feel cheated. I've had no control over anything that's happened to me in the last two years," she confided into the collar of his shirt, her hands fisting in the fabric on his back.

"You're getting the control back though. I know it's frustrating, but you're doing so well, Kate."

She sighed shakily and pulled away, self-consciously rubbing at the salty stains still lingering on her cheeks. "When do you think I can try walking?"

His eyes naturally drifted down to the knees pressed against his hip.

He probably shouldn't, she likely wasn't strong enough yet, but it couldn't hurt to try. If anything, at least it would take her mind off things for just a little while.

"Want to try now?"

Her eyes cut to his, sparking with anticipation, and she nodded a little too eagerly, but patiently waited for him to rise from the bed and instruct her into a sitting position at the edge of the mattress.

"You won't tell Patrick?" he asked jokingly.

She chuckled, but promised him it would be their own little secret, which sent a totally inappropriate shot of delight down his spine.

"Hold onto my hands," he said as he carefully guided her up and off the bed and slowly into a standing position. Her thighs quivered, legs wobbling as she stood on her own with his hands clasped around hers her only support, but she eventually got her limbs to remain steady and glanced up at him with exhilarated determination.

"Slow, Kate," he warned as they tentatively started to shuffle forward, away from her bed and out into the open space of the room. "Good, you've got this."

Her lower lip had become trapped under her teeth in concentration, but it broke free when she smiled at her small steps of progress.

"Doctor Rodgers?"

Rick stilled them at Lisa's voice in the doorway. She didn't sound happy.

"Should Ms. Beckett really be out of bed?"

His gaze flickered back to Kate, who was gritting her teeth, either from annoyance or against the exhaustion potentially creeping in.

"We were just testing the muscle strength in her legs," Rick explained simply, even adding a shrug of his shoulders to convince her. "She's getting stronger."

His head nurse made a disinterested sound of acknowledgement.

"I'm glad, but I just came to let you know Gina's on your line 1."

"Ah."

Great, he couldn't wait to listen to Gina scold him through the phone about the lack of chapters in her inbox.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I'll be back tonight and then maybe we can try this again tomorrow."

She nodded, a little too dully for his liking, but allowed him to help her back to the bed.

"Thanks, Rodgers."

His brow furrowed at the use of his last name from her. It wasn't exactly odd, he assumed it was because Lisa was in the room with them, but it still felt strange to hear her revert back to his surname after so many days of Rick.

"Of course." He squeezed her arm before turning away and brushing past Lisa to stride down the hall, knowing all too well it was never a good idea to keep Gina waiting when he was already in trouble.

"You know Gina's his girlfriend, don't you?" Lisa asked as soon as she assumed Rick was out of earshot and Kate tried not to let her reaction to the news show on her face.

She should have known he already had someone. A handsome, successful doctor like himself, how could he not?

She merely shrugged instead, tried to act nonchalant.

"Do you know when lunch will get here?"

"I saw them loading the trays on my way up, so it should probably be a few minutes. Too bad Richard couldn't stick around and share some delicious hospital food with you."

Kate had never liked Lisa, had always wished her night nurse, Cassandra, could be her day nurse as well. Or really any nurse would do, as long as she no longer had to put up with the moody Lisa Connors, who'd had a very apparent dislike for her since day one.

"Have a good evening, Kate," Lisa tossed over her shoulder as she pivoted on her heel and thankfully exited Kate's room, purposely leaving the door open just because she knew how much it irked Beckett.

Kate propped a few pillows behind her back so she would be able to remain sitting up when the unlucky nurse who was assigned to make lunch rounds brought her what would likely be the same meal as yesterday. She tried to force her concentration to wander, but it continued to gnaw at her that she had been naïve enough to develop feelings for a man who was only in her life because he had to be, because it was his job. It made sense, logically - he was the only constant in her life at the moment, the only person who made an effort to see her everyday, but she had turned it into something personal and she knew better than that.

She had just gotten out of a relationship with a doctor - granted it had been while she was unconscious, but inevitable nonetheless - and the last thing she needed to be doing was even fathoming the idea of one with another.

Kate scraped a hand through her hair, wishing her arms would hold long enough for her to pull it back and braid the overgrown mane down her back, and resolutely decided she would work on getting back to her old self - smart, savvy, independent Detective Beckett.