Authors Note: Hello! Before you read the new chapter I want to take a moment to say thank you. You have really no idea what it means to me that you're reading my story. I have more than 100 followers on that story and never had a story of mine that many reviews. It just makes me unbelievably happy to see that you like what I write.

Chapter 8.

Turning the lock with her key she waited a moment before pushing the door open. She has not seen her father since he drunkenly yelled at her yesterday morning. Not knowing how or if she would find him she stepped into their apartment.

He could be drunk, passed out or not even home. She hoped that since it was still before noon that he was in a somewhat sober state; or as sober as possible lately. Running a hand over her face she first checked the living room. Empty.

Thinking he probably wasn't home she went into the kitchen; usually he spend the day on the couch, watching TV, emptying bottles.

Such a difference from how it used to be, she thought. Back in the day when he took her to baseball games and taught her how to ride the bike. Back in the day when she started to rebel against her parents, stay out all night, getting drunk and her father tried to scare away all boyfriends she might take home, making her want to stay with those guys even more. It felt like a lifetime but she was still 19 and back in the day was 183 days ago.

She remembered one event especially. She was 17 and really in love with that guy named Tim. Maybe the only times that she had been in love and not just dated the guy because he was fun and annoyed her parents. But still; he was everything her parents disliked. Then, one night she came home crying after sneaking out. He broke up with her after almost one year, because he met another girl. Just like that. One day everything was perfect and then he just said it was over. Giving her a hug like it was no big deal, smiling and saying 'But hey, we'll stay friends Becks.'.

It was at least 3am and she tried to be quiet walking up in her room. But when she passed her parents bedroom the lights had been on and the door wide open. She had been busted. They both looked at her. She thought they would be furious but instead they gave her their 'Katherine Houghton Beckett, we're really disappointed of you' look. That look was so much worse.

They wanted her to explain what she did at such a time in a school week. Opening her mouth she could just sob and started crying saying that she was sorry. This usually wasn't like her and her parents were really worried until she told them about Tim. That night her mother crawled into her bed and stroke her hair until she fell asleep while her father made her tea and brought her ice cream telling her all the reasons why he loved her.

She got grounded for her actions the next morning but it was okay. She promised to be a better daughter. And while she still met guys her parents didn't like and sneaked out with her friends to party she at least only did it on weekends, spend a little more time with her family and that's when she decided she wanted to become a lawyer, just like them.

That wasn't two years ago – that was an eternity. Or never happened at all.

He sat at the kitchen table when she entered the room. Head slumped forward, a plate with a dry piece of toast in front of him. Sighing she shook her head and went over to the fridge to get some eggs and butter. He didn't even seem to notice her.

Heating a pan she prepared the coffee, making scrambled eggs. He looked up when she took his plate, spread the toast with butter and put some eggs on the side before giving it back to him, along with a cup of coffee.

"I'd like something stronger." he said, sleep deep in his voice. He probably just got up.

"I know." she said sitting down on the other side. "But we need to talk."

Holding the eye contact for not even a second he motioned to get up. "Let me just-"

"No!" she demanded, holding up her hand. When did she become the responsible one? "Just eat your toast and drink your coffee and listen to me for once."

Looking down he took a bite. She didn't know why she was suddenly that pissed; it was a good sign that he sat there and at least looked like was paying attention to her.

"Dad, you can't keep doing that." she started, the honesty evident in her voice.

"Doing what?" he asked.

"Ruining your life like that!" Did he really not know what she was talking about? "Since-" Then. 183 days ago. That night we don't ever fucking talk about. "-Mom died. I let you do that for a while. I thought you needed time to cope. I understood. But dad-"

She went from being mad to sad and afraid. The tears burned in her eyes and she thought she cried everything she had yesterday. Reaching out she took his hand in hers. When was the last time she held his hand?

173 days ago. After the funeral. When they drove to the beach, trying to escape their friends and family because everything was getting too much.

"It can't go on like this." Her voice was down to a whisper when he finally looked up meeting her eyes. The lump in her throat grew bigger. Never had she seen her father this hurt. "I'm grieving, too. And more than anything I need my father." A tear ran down her cheek and she noticed the tears in her fathers eyes.

"I don't even know what's going on in your life anymore." he finally confessed, squeezing her hand and she nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Katie."

Standing up she hugged her father close to her body, inhaling his unique scent that always calmed her down when a nightmare woke her up in the middle of the night. "Will you please try to get better?" she mumbled and felt him nodding against her body.

She went into her room afterward. He told her he needed some time alone, clearing his mind. She wanted to take a shower, lay down in her bed and look at pictures from a happier time. Gazing at the book on her nightstand she ran her fingers over the cover.

Richard Castle – Storm Front

Her lips pulled up into a small smile and her heart started to beat faster, thinking about the previous night.

Why him?

Why her?

Why now?

What scared her the most was not knowing that she was slowly but surely falling in love with him. What scared her was the fact that a part of her was ready to for that fall. A part of her she didn't know before.

/

For once he was actually writing. His publisher called and threatened him that if he would not finish the manuscript for his new book by next week he was in big trouble. Lucky for him he only had one chapter more to go, he just needed to sit down and write.

And with Alexis in kindergarten and his mother out in the city he had no excuses. And the sooner he started the sooner he finished and he could spend his time thinking about Kate and the way his t-shirt smelled like her as he found it in his guest room that morning.

That girl was really messing with his mind and he couldn't remember the last time he felt like that for a girl. She was just so much different from everyone else he has dated over the last few years. Dated. They weren't dating... yet.

But whatever they were, it felt good. Right.

A knock on his door interrupted him. Here goes the day writing, he thought annoyed and got up. Mostly when he stopped once, he wouldn't be getting back into writing for the day.

Thinking about who could it be to come here right now he opened the door. He was faced with the girl who had been crossing his mind all morning – or more like the last few months.

"Kate." he stated. "What are you doing here?"

Looking at her hands for a moment she found his eyes and he saw the inner battle she was fighting. "I didn't really know where else to go." she mumbled and he put his hand on her back, gesturing her to come in, closing the door behind her.

"Of course you can come here." he said, concern leaking through his voice. This morning while they were having breakfast she sounded good, like there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel for her. Maybe her plans didn't work out as well as she wanted to.

"What happened?" he asked as he guided her to the couch, making her sit down with him, pulling her closer, holding her left hand between his. She just shrugged her shoulders, letting her head fall against his neck. He was shocked that she acted on seeking out the physical contact. Just 24 hours ago she wouldn't have done that.

"Can't you be making a joke or anything?" she questioned.

"I'm having a hard time coming up with something funny when I see you like that." he confessed honestly.

"Then don't say anything, please." And he didn't. He just put his arm over her shoulder, holding her close, while her breath warmed his neck. Her free right hand reaching out, laying down on the fabric of his jeans, running soft circles with her thumb over his tight.

What happened, he wondered while she seemed to be locked up in her own world.

She had been gone for a total of three hours. Three hours and she turned up devastated at his front door.

"It it about your father?" He felt her tense beneath him; she went home to talk to her father and now she was here again – in almost the exact same state as last night.

"I said I don't want to talk." she mumbled and he sensed that she was upset. But still, he needed to know or he wasn't able to help.

"Kate-" be began but she moved out of his touch, looking at him, face in a hard facade.

"What do you want me to say, Rick? That he promised me he'd get better? Or that I actually believed him? That for the first time I felt like I'd get my father back and then just an hour later I heard a shuffling in the kitchen? Or that I went down and he just poured himself a scotch, saying he was sorry? Or do you want to know that I threw that glass through the kitchen and told him it wasn't working that way?"

She was yelling but he knew that she was about to cry. The way her knuckles turned white as she pressed her nails into the palms of her hands, her lips closed into a thin line, liquid building up behind her eyes.

That's when he saw it; the white bandage on her wrist – mostly hidden by her sleeved shirt – slightly ripped like it was attached carelessly.

"What happened?" he asked as he pulled up the shirt, inspecting her arm.

"I cut my arm on that glass." she said trying to pull away from him but he grabbed her hand a little tighter. "It's not deep." she mumbled.

"I'm still taking care of that. Stay here." Getting up he walked into the bathroom.

Coming back a few minutes later he put a warm washcloth, some antiseptic agent and a new bandage on the table and sat back down on the couch. Gently taking arm again he removed the bandage she made herself and cleaned the wound.

"I'm glad that it's really not that deep. But I would still keep an eye on that, wouldn't want an infection." He moved his fingers lightly over her arm until she looked up at him. A slight smile playing on her lips.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome."

/

She was grateful that she had him to go to, she really was. It was just hard for her to show the need for help and she felt guilty for yelling at him, especially after he took such a good care of her.

Leaning forward she put her arms around his neck, leaning her cheek against his, breathing in his scent. Thankfully he was mimicking her actions, pulling her closer into the embrace.

"I'm sorry for getting mad." she mumbled, hoping that it was enough of an apologize.

"You have every right to be...," he said. Why was he such an understanding person? "... just remember, that I just want to help you." She nodded against his head, letting her lips trail over the crook of his neck for a moment as his hands ran circles over her back, calming her down.

"How about you stay here today, and tonight if you want to? We could just stay like this for a while, pick Alexis up later, take her to the playground for a while, make dinner, and I try my best to distract you."

She thought about his offer for a while. Distraction seemed like a good idea. She knew she had to come home, face her father and deal with her problems but right now distraction was what she needed.

"Okay." she said, and she felt his lips, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Authors Note: What do you think? :)