May 26, 2011 (10w1d)
A distant dream-like echo.
Voices. She could hear voices, but they didn't seem real.
She tried to focus, tried to home in on the voice but everything was so... foggy.
Stay with me, Kate. Don't you die on me, Kate, just stay with me.
Lanie. She was crying.
The low hum, like electricity, drowned out her friend's voice as her head began to spin. She could hear... too much, but not enough. An occasional, irregular chime in the distance, an unknown voice that sounded distant and staticky - like it was coming through a speaker - and an incessant beep, beep, beep...
Everything remained dark, her eyelids too heavy to open. She couldn't sense anything around her, there was just darkness, just numbness.
Quiet whispers, pained voices. She could hear the sadness as they spoke to her, as they waited for a response.
She tried, but she couldn't.
I'm right here, Kate.
It took too much energy, everything she could muster, for a simple twitch of her finger. She tried again, tried for more, but nothing happened.
A single tear spilled from behind closed eyelids. She could feel it as it glided, painfully slow, down her cheek. She tried to move, to wipe it away, but her body wouldn't cooperate.
Frozen. She felt frozen.
I need you to be okay...
That incessant beeping would drive her to the brink of insanity if it didn't stop soon. It was constant, the only constant as everything else - every voice, every touch - faded in and out.
That beeping never stopped.
She had no idea how much time had passed. Had it been hours? Days? Time seemed irrelevant.
There was just darkness.
Recovery isn't always linear, Mr Castle.
Darkness and numbness.
This woman is a fighter.
The weightlessness of her body faded as she became more aware and she felt herself gradually sinking into the bed.
There was a dry discomfort in her throat, a tightness that she didn't recognise and that her mind couldn't explain.
She was choking.
Her eyes opened to an assault of fluorescent light and that incessant beeping quickened, piercing through her brain. A chime echoed from somewhere nearby.
"Katie?" Jim rasped urgently.
She searched for him, but her eyes refused to adjust – he was nothing more than a blurred, barely-recognisable figure.
The light, the noise, her father - it was too much, too fast: a sensory overload on top of the choking that had her heart racing.
She clawed at her mouth and tried to remove the blockage. Deep in her chest, she felt a gentle tug.
"Try not to pull on that," instructed an unfamiliar voice.
Suddenly, the stranger loomed over her and grasped her wrists, stopping her from removing whatever was stuck in her throat.
Choking, she was still choking.
And now she was restrained and confused. Panic built in her chest, she didn't understand what was going on.
She stared unbelieving at the woman restraining her. She tried to pull away, to wriggle free, but she was too weak, too tired.
A man in a white coat rushed into the room. He must be a doctor: a good guy, someone who could be trusted. But trust was foolish. Dangerous. Trust had only ever gotten her hurt.
"Prep the high flow," he ordered and the woman let go.
Kate's eyes filled with tears, further distorting her already blurred vision, as she tried to take in her surroundings.
She could hear the doctor as he barked orders to the other people in the room, but she couldn't quite understand what he was saying. His voice was like an echo that seemed to move around the room: unfocussed, despite her efforts.
"Sir, it might be best if you step outside."
And without a single word her father left her.
She forced her body to move, jerking in whichever way she could manage.
Pain seared through her chest, but she ignored it.
She had to get out of here, get away, get somewhere safe.
She needed to find Castle.
The hands of two blurry figures pressed against her, one on each shoulder, and pushed her back down into the bed. She tried to fight against them, tried to wriggle her way out from their hold but it was useless.
"Kate." A deep but kind voice echoed through the chaos. "Kate, hi. I'm Doctor Khan. I'm going to need you to take a deep breath in and then exhale. Can you do that for me?"
She couldn't, she was choking, she couldn't breathe. Not in. Not out.
She shook her head, no, and gagged as she felt the blockage move in her throat. Her hands flew to her mouth, grasping at the tube.
"If you can do that for me, we can get this tube out for you, okay?"
Relief washed over her and she nodded, just enough for Dr Khan to see, but not so much that she risked gagging on it again.
She could do this. Inhale, exhale, and the discomfort is gone.
The sticky tape pulled her skin as it was peeled away. She blinked and the tears that had pooled in her eyes – the result of fear, pain and gagging – slipped from behind her lashes.
"You ready, Kate?"
Again, she nodded slightly.
"Breathe in," Khan instructed.
She obeyed, drawing in as much air as she could.
"And breathe out."
She had barely exhaled before he was pulling on the tube. She could feel every inch as it scraped its way up her throat.
She gagged and coughed as the muscles of her neck, chest and abdomen constricted in response and tears flowed freely down her face.
Her chest burned, her head pounded, but she was freed.
Her freedom was short-lived as an oxygen mask was immediately placed and held over her nose and mouth. Warm, humid air rushed in, giving her no choice but to breathe it in. It felt suffocating at first, like a warm, wet pillow over her face.
She exhaled and felt the discomfort as her chest shrunk.
Inhale, exhale. Again and again until, slowly, the flow of air felt a little less smothering.
The nurse that held the soft moulded plastic over her mouth secured the elastic band around the back of her head and walked away, leaving just Dr Khan and one other person – a nurse in brightly coloured scrubs – in the room.
Her mouth felt bone-dry as she sucked in the air. She pressed her lips together and forced herself to breathe deeply through her nose instead.
She inhaled again. Air rushed through her nostrils and filled her lungs, each expanse easing her discomfort.
Exhale...
Her head fell to the side, too heavy for her to hold up anymore, and the world began to fade as her focus dulled.
Inhale...
She tried to fight the fatigue, tried to force her eyes to stay open.
Her mind was too fuzzy; her body was too exhausted to fight. She gave up and her eyes closed.
Exhale...
As the room calmed, the beeping returned to the foreground.
Slow and steady.
She focussed on it: beep... beep... beep...
Inhale...
"Vitals are levelling, nothing abnormal in her neuro-function," the nurse said.
Exhale...
"That's good, right?" a more familiar voice responded from where everyone had just exited the room.
"That means she won't have to be sedated again?" that same voice queried, growing closer.
Inhale...
The beeping became erratic again as she opened her eyes and searched the room for him, but her eyes were too bleary from tears, she couldn't focus properly.
She opened her mouth to speak his name, but nothing came out.
Exhale...
"I'm here, Kate," Castle said as he stepped up to her bedside and curled his fingers around her hand.
With his free hand he brushed his fingers through her hair, soothing her. She leaned into him, into the warmth of his body, and allowed his presence to calm her racing heart, to ease her fears.
"It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Inhale...
Her eyelids dropped again.
"You need your rest. Don't fight it."
Exhale...
And everything faded to black.
It happened slowly, and yet all too quickly.
Like emerging from a tunnel, the darkness got lighter and lighter as conversely her body grew heavier.
Slowly, her eyes flitted open. The light burned her eyes and she had to fight against her own body as her eyes instinctively squeezed shut.
She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, but everything remained blurred.
Her eyelids were too heavy, she didn't have the energy to keep them open.
"Kate?"
She was disoriented, she didn't know where she was or what was happening, but there was something familiar about that voice.
She forced her eyes open again and tried to process her surroundings: the tubes, the machines, the strange faces she couldn't quite make out through double vision.
Two men slowly walked toward her: they both had dark hair, solid build.
Castle, she tried to say aloud but no sound came out.
"Kate, do you remember me?" said one of the men.
She thought, what an odd question.
Of course she remembered him, why wouldn't she? But as the men took another step closer the two figures merged into one slightly blurred man. She realised she had mistakenly assumed the familiar voice was Castle's.
"Doctor Khan," he prompted in a soft, encouraging tone. "We met earlier, but I understand if you can't quite recall. It's been an exhausting day for you."
She nodded, unable to form any words.
Why couldn't she speak?
She pressed her palms into the mattress either side of her body and tried to reposition herself, but she wasn't strong enough. Her arms gave in under the slightest amount of pressure and she slumped down.
"Let me help you." She was startled by the voice that came from somewhere just outside of her line of vision.
Heart racing, she threw her hand out to the side to stop the figure that was advancing on her and swatted away the hands that reached for her.
"Easy," Khan warned as he held his hands out signalling to everyone in the room to stay back, to proceed with caution, as if she were some kind of vicious animal. "Let her orientate herself."
She reached for the mask that covered the lower part of her face.
"You're going to want to keep that on," he said with a warm smile.
Her fingers lingered on the plastic as she decided whether to heed his advice or not. After a few seconds of unwavering eye contact, she let her hand drop to her stomach and her head dropped back on the pillow.
She struggled to keep her eyes open. Fatigue fought her anxiety's desire to keep her awake.
"She hasn't said anything," the other voice from before said, questioning and concerned.
Something was wrong.
She was wrong.
It was like her mind wasn't fully connected to her body; each movement was uncoordinated, each thought stayed mute, unvoiced.
"She will, in time."
Her eyes shut and, once again, the world around her faded into darkness.
The beeping never stopped. It was the only thing anchoring her to reality right now.
The only thing that kept bringing her back.
She peeled open her eyes. The room - lit only by the soft glow from the monitors that surrounded her - was quiet. She looked around as her eyes adjusted, absorbing as much information as she could in the dim lighting.
Shakily, she brought her hands up to her face and touched the thick tube between her top lip and her nose, feeding air into her nostrils. It hurt to breathe, but only a little bit. With each expansion of her chest, she felt an uncomfortable tugging sensation, but it was tolerable.
She turned to her right and there was her father, fast asleep in a reclining chair. He looked uncomfortable – his neck was bent at an angle she knew he would pay for later on – but his presence was instantly comforting.
A shuffle of papers caught her attention. She slowly turned back to scan the left side of the room. Just a few feet away from her bed she saw a nurse standing at a desk, reading over information on the monitors and writing down notes in a file.
The woman looked up and offered a smile.
"Hey, there," she whispered as she stepped closer. "How are you feeling?"
"Cas-" Her voice failed her.
It was frustrating beyond compare, wanting so desperately to be able to communicate but being physically unable.
Exasperated, she sighed. She didn't have the patience for this... this weakness.
But the nurse smiled as if she knew exactly what Kate was trying to say.
And she did.
The nurse stepped aside and motioned to the chair in the corner of the room where Castle sat with his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed but mouth slightly open.
"He's not long drifted off, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind being woken up."
Kate swallowed, an attempt to lubricate her throat a little bit. If anyone was going to wake Castle up, it was going to be her.
"Ca-" Her voice was rough and raspy, but it was there.
She swallowed again, confident that she could do this.
"Castle."
He startled awake and jerked his head all around the room. The second his eyes landed on her he was out of his seat and by her side.
"Kate," he breathed her name in a sigh of relief as he wrapped his hand around hers.
He smiled so brightly as he blinked back tears. The sight broke her heart, but the gentle squeeze of his hand was all she needed to hold it together.
He brought his other hand up to her face and brushed his thumb along her hollowed cheek.
She could see the whirlwind of questions behind his glassy, ocean eyes but he refrained from bombarding her. She was sure the time would come, but for now she just wanted to hold his hand and gaze into his eyes. When she did that, everything felt alright again.
"I'll get you some water," he said and began to take a step away from her.
She gripped his hand. "No," she choked. "Don't leave me."
The rasp of her voice seemed to pain him and she knew that water probably was a good idea, but the thought of him leaving her side right now sent a wave of anxiety through her.
"I'll get it," Jim offered, now awake, from the recliner.
Her father rose slowly with a stifled groan - which only told her that his presence here was doing him more harm than good - and kissed the top of her head before leaving the room.
Without letting go of her hand, Castle reached behind him and dragged the chair closer to her bed. He lowered himself into it and leant forward on the edge of her bed.
"I missed you," he said, and she could tell he was still working hard to hold back tears. "I missed you so much."
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, again and again.
"I love you," he whispered into the palm of her hand before resting his cheek in it.
She traced her fingertips across his cheek and smiled.
"Love you."
The words came out as a broken whisper, more mouthed than actually spoken, but their flawed projection didn't diminish their meaning.
Jim re-entered the room holding a bottle of water and a straw. As he approached the bed, he cracked open the bottle and slipped the straw in.
The nurse adjusted Kate's bed, sitting her upright, and Jim held the water close enough for Kate to sip.
As the cool water spread through her mouth and remedied the dryness, her eyes fluttered closed and a moan escaped.
"Does it hurt at all?" Jim asked after she swallowed.
She shook her head. "No," she answered.
Her brow creased as she remembered the fire she had felt in her chest. It was gone now, but the memory was vivid.
She smoothed her palm over her chest and felt a sharp sting that she was sure she had imagined, considering how numb she felt everywhere else.
"You're on pretty hectic pain meds, so you shouldn't feel too much," Castle explained as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"What happened?" she croaked.
She winced at how rough her voice sounded. If her throat was half as sore as it sounded, then she must have been on some good meds because she could barely feel a thing.
Castle looked at her, concern creasing his brow. "You- you don't remember?"
She shook her head slowly as she tried to recall... anything. She looked over to the nurse who was waiting - very patiently - and seemed to be very intent on hearing what Kate had to say.
"Not... not really," she admitted. "I just- I don't know. Everything-" She swallowed, her throat was so dry. "-everything is kind of fuzzy."
Castle turned his head toward the nurse, but his eyes lingered on Kate.
"Is that normal?" he asked as his eyes finally darted toward the person he was actually addressing.
"You're coming off a lot of medications," the nurse explained to Kate. "You lost a lot of blood. It's going to take several weeks for your haemoglobin levels to restore themselves properly. It's perfectly understandable to feel a little fuzzy and tired. There is a chance you're going to feel pretty lethargic for a little while."
Kate nodded, but repeated the words over in her mind to ensure she was processing them properly.
Haemoglobin levels...
That seemed to prompt something within her subconscious, trigger a memory that wasn't quite clear to her yet.
Haemoglobin levels...
Iron infusion...
Oh, God...
Kate's body stiffened and she drew in a sharp breath. She turned to Castle, wide-eyed.
"The baby-?"
She didn't even want to finish that sentence.
But he smiled. Nothing in this world could have been more reassuring than his smile.
"They are continuing to monitor but-" He let out a joyful sigh of relief. "The baby is fine."
It was nothing short of a miracle but somehow, they were both fine.
