AN: Hey everyone. Sorry for the later update. I tried to post this earlier but I was sick and couldn't really write. Anyway this is a little bit longer. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry for mistakes. It's late and if I find them later I will correct them.

Chapter 3.

The thing about distraction is that as soon as it ends, reality hits hard.

Opening the front door the first thing she heard was the TV running and the first thing she smelled was alcohol. Glancing in the living room she saw her father in a sitting position on the couch. Head leaned back against the back, eyes closed. She slowly tiptoed into the room to turn off the TV and put a blanket over her fathers sleeping body.

She tried to be as quiet as possible as she went upstairs into her room even though she knew her father would not wake up anytime soon.

Tired she fell down onto her bed, grabbing her phone out of her purse. She saw that she had three missed calls from Larissa and one text message.

Hey, you didn't answer my calls. We can't see you outside and we want to go now. Text or call me as soon as you read this – Ris.

The text message arrived just five minutes ago and she felt guilty that she left her friends just sitting in a bar without telling them that she went home. But honestly, she did not feel like talking to any of them anymore. That's why instead of calling she just wrote a text.

I'm sorry, I went home, didn't feel well.

Closing her eyes all she wanted to do was sleep for weeks. She could not remember a time she was this exhausted. Probably never. She had not had a proper night of sleep in 104 days. A few hours here and there but never did she go to bed one night and woke up the other morning without interruptions.

Not since.

Rolling onto her side she wished that for one night she could just forget. Forget that her mother was gone, forget that her father has not been sober in 82 days and forget that she seriously considered dropping out of college to be back in New York.

And again all those thoughts consumed her mind and she knew that a good night of sleep was not in the picture for her right now.

Getting up she still got ready for bed. Standing in front of her mirror she noticed that her current life was really taking a toll on her. She was thin; she has always been slim but lately her clothes seemed to get bigger whenever she put them on. Consequence of permanent loss of appetite, she thought as she touched her hip bones. Her graze traveled up until she looked herself in the eyes. The dark circles were evidence for her sleep deprivation.

Sighing she walked back to her bed. Sitting down she took the picture she had on her nightstand and held it between her fingers.

Her mother was smiling and so was she. It was taken just 119 days ago. But looking at that picture she didn't recognize herself. It was Christmas and her father took that picture before dinner. She and her mother had been cooking for hours and when her father entered the kitchen they were both annoyed at first because he walked around wit the camera all day long. 'Just one more picture of my favorite girls' he said. And then they both started laughing because that was what he said before every picture he took.

She could not stop the tears that streamed down her face nor the sob that escaped her throat. It was her routine. Throughout the day she tried to be strong – or at least she tried not to cry. And then at night she started reflecting. Reflecting everything that changed and everything that would never be the same again.

"Mom?" She whispered through her tears and slowly started caressing her mothers face through the picture. "It's really hard. I try – I promise. But I need you so much. I can't do this without you." She choked and brought her hand up to cover her eyes even thought no one was there to see her. No one was there to comfort her.

Yes, nights were the worst. And the only person she felt like she could talk to about her feelings was gone. In the blink of an eye. For one moment she was mad that her mother did not show up for dinner and the next moment all she wanted was to be able to hear her voice one more time. Telling her that she loved her, hear her saying 'Katie, you always get too caught up in your emotions. It will get better. I promise.' Just one more time she wanted to feel her mothers embrace, the way her arms closed around her and her even breaths soothing her whenever she was upset. But someone took that away from her.

Putting the picture with shaking hands back on the nightstand she slowly lay down pulling the covers up over her body. Why couldn't it just be normal again? 104 days ago normal.

She could wish and pray as much as she wanted to. Nothing was going to change. This was her life now.

She reached for the book on her nightstand. No matter how tired she was sleep was not going to come, yet. Opening the book where she left off she sighed.

Richard Castle – In A Hail Of Bullets

She must have read the book at least half a dozen times but somehow the fact that it was his first book had a calming reaction. Thinking back on the last few hours she could not concentrate. It was still so surreal that she met Richard Castle just outside of a bar today. And even more that she spend an hour together with him.

Part of him really was an asshole, the way he was so sure of himself, acting like he could have every girl. But on the other hand, couldn't he? He might have annoyed her at first but in the end he was the first person to make her feel better in 104 days. And she did give him her number. Maybe she was just too much of a fan or emotionally unstable right now but she had trouble not liking him. Also he was the only one who stopped. While she was having a panic attack and every other person just went by starring or not even looking at her he took the time to ask if she was okay without labeling her as a psychopath. And for a short moment it made her feel almost okay.

She then read a few chapters before putting the book back down, turning out all the lights in her room. Maybe tonight she was lucky and could get a full night of sleep. Maybe tonight.

Tonight she was not lucky.

/

Six days later her phone rang. It was 3PM and she was still in bed. Or more like in bed again. It was day 110 and she had not had a good night of sleep.

"Kate Beckett" She said tiredly, sleep leaking through her voice. She had been asleep for almost two hours which added up to a total of four and a half hours today. It was one of the better days.

"Beckett? Nice name, fits you." The voice on the other side said. Confused she rolled on her back, rubbing her eyes.

"Who is there?" She asked.

"Rick" He said amused. "Rick Castle."

Shocked she sat up. Never did she imagine that he would actually call her. She thought that he put her number in a big bowl of telephone numbers he collected over the years not remembering which belonged to whom.

"Uhm, hi." She greeted him pulling her legs underneath her body. With her hands she tried to straighten out her hair even thought he could not see her.

"Is it just me or have you been asleep?" He asked her laughing. "Or, I hope you've been asleep. I'm not interrupting you and your boyfriend, am I?"

"No, you're not." She answered annoyed. "So, you found the idea for your book?" She asked remembering he told her he would call then. Excitement build up in her about the possibility to hear his new story first hand. She would never admit but those last six days her thoughts wandered to that night more often than she hoped.

"Nah, not really." He said.

"Then why exactly are you calling?" She asked him and lay back down onto her pillow.

"Just wondering how you are. Not to offend you but didn't seem too cheerfully that night." A small smile crept up on her lips. Three out of three genuine smiles caused by him.

"Well, I'm good... thank you." She said slowly. "And... you?"

"I'm just fine. Hey? What would you say if we grab a cup of coffee somewhere?" He asked. She lay still in her bed not sure how to answer him. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before answering.

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, because I'm a famous author – a really ruggedly handsome author for that matter – and I'm pretty good company." She rolled her eyes. "And I know you're probably rolling your eyes at me right now." He continued.

She turned to her side eying his book on her nightstand.

Richard Castle – Flowers For Your Grave

Another one of his books she read more than once. But they helped her getting through the night when it got bad. Maybe he, the creator himself, could also help her. Part of him already did. She should probably say something, she thought.

"Okay." She breathed. "Let's get some coffee." She needed her caffeine anyway and maybe getting out of the house would do her some good. By this time of a day her father was already drunk, maybe he wasn't even home. She could not hear any sounds and he was probably at a bar right now.

"Really?!" She could hear the excitement in his voice and wondered why. She was just another girl.

/

They decided to meet up two hours later at a coffee shop just a few blocks from her. It was one of those small cafés that smelled like cheesecake when you entered it and everyone treated you like they knew you for years even though you have never been there before. The coffee was fantastic and the cupcakes even better.

He walked upstairs to wake up Alexis from her nap to play with her for a while before leaving. His mother promised to take Alexis to a puppet theater later. She wanted to get her into contact with the stage as soon as possible.

He was glad he had his mother, not just for him but also for Alexis. She needed some females in her life that did not just show up every few months to suddenly disappear again.

"Are you excited for the theater with Grams later?" He asked his daughter as he helped her change from her pajamas into a pink colored dress with little bunnies on it.

"Yes" She announced happily.

"I bet you are." He stated and could not help but start laughing. When his daughter smiled everything just felt right. "You are ready little girl, now give your old man a kiss and then we go play."

"You're not old, Daddy." She giggled and leaned forward to give his cheek a sloppy kiss before running off to her toys.

AN: What did you think? I'd like to get some feedback :D

And next chapter Beckett finally tells him about her mother. How will he react? ;)