a/n: wow, feels like forever since the last update. it's been a busy, busy month for me. i appreciate everyone who has stuck around!

Early December, Castle's Loft

This cannot be happening.

This cannot be happening.

Kate holds her phone to her ear as her father mumbles on the other end of the line, but she can't make out what he's saying. She can't focus on what he's saying, is more accurate. With the commotion of the broken plate, the bleeding hand, and the crying baby, too much is happening all at once.

"Dad, I have to call you back later, okay? I'll call you later," she says, cutting Jim off mid-sentence. She hangs up the phone and immediately runs off to Rick's bedroom. She closes the door behind her as she feels her chest getting tighter and tighter with each breath. She turns on the faucet in the bathroom and splashes herself to try to hold it together, but she only spirals faster. The room starts to spin as she grabs tightly onto the vanity to remain upright. Finally, the wave of emotions overtakes her. She dives onto the floor and crawls to the toilet, nearly missing the bowl as she vomits violently. The hot bile stings her throat and the lurching hurts her stomach. Her head is still spinning as she feels herself turn to an empty shell, and suddenly, she's exhausted from the ordeal. She slumps down on the bathroom floor and closes her eyes, hoping that she'd wake up and her nightmare would be over.

"Katherine? Oh, Kate..." she hears in the distance. "Kate, are you okay, dear?" Martha's hand lands gently on her shoulder and pulls her back to reality. The woman gets down on the floor and pulls the young woman into her side. Kate sits up the best she can, her head still limp on Martha's shoulder.

"I just...I can't, I can't," Kate gasps, shaking as she tries to catch her breath. "I can't...breathe. I can't..."

"Shhh, darling. Just take deep breaths with me." Martha inhales and exhales deeply and slowly, Kate mimics the best she can. After several minutes, her heart rate normalizes and her head stops spinning. She sits up straighter and Martha pushes a piece of hair beyond her ear so it's out of her face.

"Rick and Alexis..."

"Oh, they'll be just fine, dear. We got Alexis settled in her bassinet in the office and Richard is going to take a car to ER to get that cut looked at."

"It's that deep?" Kate asks.

"I'm afraid so," Martha sighs. "Clumsy man..."

"I should..." Kate says as she tries to get up but her arms give out beneath her.

"There's no rush, darling," Martha tells her. "Now, do you want to tell me about that phone call?"

"Oh, god...my dad..." Kate whispers. "I need to call him."

"Are you sure?" Martha asks.

"Yeah, I need to," Kate sighs. "But, uh, could you stay with me?"

The red haired woman was not expecting that question, but she nods gladly and she and Kate leave the bathroom to collect her phone.

"Kate, are you...?" Rick asks as they emerge from the bedroom. He's sitting on the couch with a towel wrapped tightly around his right hand and large glass of water in the other. He sloppily tries to get up, but Kate gestures for him to stay.

"Um, I'm okay," Kate says, though she's not really sure that's true. "Just a lot happening all at once."

"I understand," Rick says. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I have to call my dad," Kate tells him. "But, I want to come with you if I can, okay?"

"Oh, Kate, you don't have to–"

"I know," she says. She grabs her phone from the counter and joins Rick on the couch. Martha takes a seat as well, her hand rubbing supportive circles into Kate's back. Rick offers up his uninjured hand and Kate squeezes it before dialing her dad's number.

It rings and rings. And rings. Then she's sent to Jim's voicemail.

"Uh, lemme just try one more time," Kate sighs, redialing. Voicemail again.

"Do you think you should go to his place?" Rick suggests.

"No," Kate decides. "This isn't my problem tonight."

"I'm your problem tonight," Rick says, obviously still a little bit buzzed.

"Yes, you are," Kate chuckles. She pulls their intertwined fist to her lips and plants a kiss before pulling him to his feet. "Now, let's get that hand stitched up."

"My mom really likes you, you know."

"Yeah, I like your mom too."

"No, seriously, the only other person she's ever been so nurturing toward is Alexis," Rick says.

"Your mom loves you."

"Sure, but she's never been one to really show it until now," Rick shrugs. "But I don't blame her, you're really cool and so is Alexis. Way cooler than me."

"Don't you forget it," Kate chuckles and then yawns. Rick joins in, too. It had been a long day, with a whirlwind of emotions, but sleep was hopefully around the corner. The ER resident had cleaned out Rick's cut and now they were just waiting for a surgical consult to decide the best course for treating the wound moving forward. "Hands can be very tricky," the resident told them, "but the surgeon will be here in just a few minutes."

"Have you gotten stitches before?" Kate asks.

"No, never. I can't believe that I'd made it this far because I've truly been very clumsy my whole life," Rick laughs. "What about you?"

"A few times, yes. I was a bruiser as a kid," Kate says. "I actually have a tiny scar on my face still from when I was ten, see?" She points to a subtle discoloration next to her left eyebrow.

"Huh, I never noticed that before," Rick admits. "And I've stared at your face for hours."

"Creep," Kate laughs.

"Mr. Castle?" A surgeon lightly knocks on the open door before entering the procedure room.

"Call me Rick," Castle says.

"Rick, I'm Dr. Roswell, the head of plastic surgery."

"Oh, wow, this must be some cut then," Kate blurts out.

"Huh?" Rick asks, not picking up on what Kate's saying.

"Sorry, it's just, I would've thought a resident or even an intern could do a few stitches," Kate explains. "The head of plastic surgery is a big deal."

"Well, trust me, I'm no big deal," laughs the surgeon. "And you're right, this is typically a procedure that an intern or resident would preform, but for a hand laceration like this one, there's higher risk of nerve and muscular damage. I put in for a neurology consult to evaluate the cut before we do anything else."

"I mean, it hurts, but I can move my hand just fine," Rick says as he twiddles his fingers.

"Yes, and that's a great sign. However, there are tons of nerves in your hand that could be affected by the cut or even by the repair, so the consult is just to get a better understanding of what we're working with here," the surgeon explains.

"But what you're saying is I could lose function of my hand?" Rick asks.

"It's a very slim possibility, yes. Its certainly not likely, especially because you aren't having any obvious issues with movement or feeling," Dr. Roswell says. "Sorry to dampen the mood, but it's really just out of an abundance of caution."

"No, no, I totally appreciate it," Rick nods. "Will it be long for the consult?"

"With it being late at night, unfortunately it will be a little bit of a wait, but Dr. Denton should be here within the hour."

"Okay, that's no problem. I'm in good company," Rick says as he smiles at Kate.

"Great," the surgeon smiles. "I'll be back soon."

"Kate, I need my hand," Rick says once they're alone. "I'm a writer, I need my hand to write."

"The surgeon said she's just being cautious, babe. I'm sure you'll be just fine," Kate assures him.

"You really think that?"

"Yes," Kate says. "You might not want to type for a couple of days with the stitches, but after that you'll be good as new."

"But, what if I'm not good as new?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it," Kate tells him.

"I just didn't imagine a broken plate could cause that much damage," Rick sighs.

"Yeah, it really shifted the mood for the night, didn't it?"

"It did," Rick says. "Was such a fun day. You had fun?"

"Yes, remember? Lots of fun," Kate chuckles. "Until..."

"Are you sure you don't want to go check on your dad?"

"I don't even know where he is, Castle. I couldn't tell if he was at his apartment or somewhere else," Kate sighs. "I'll call him again after we get back home."

"He was drinking, wasn't he?"

"Sounded like it, yeah."

"Kate, I'm so so–"

"Don't, okay, babe?" Kate cuts him off. "He's not my problem tonight."

"But, Kate, you got physically sick about it early. I just..."

"Just what?"

"I just don't want you to bottle it all up," says Rick.

"But I'm so good at that," Kate laughs.

"Not funny."

"No, not funny, I know," Kate sighs. "Let's just focus on you for now."

The neurologist had arrived at the tail end of the hour, which passed quickly and unceremoniously. Kate had even dozed off a few times, her head falling into Rick's lap. She'd wake up shortly after making contact with her make-shift pillow, but Rick would softly remind her that it was late and that she should sleep if she's tired. Tired didn't even begin to describe how she was feeling, but she kept her attention on her boyfriend, pushing away the raging waves of dread that surrounded her.

"Your hand should be just fine in a few weeks," Dr. Roswell said as she finished wrapping Rick's stitches. "But for now, you want to limit use and keep the stitches dry."

It was 2AM when the nurse brought in discharge papers, which Kate helped Rick fill out. Just before they called for a car to take them back to the loft, Kate's phone vibrated and the screen lit up with a call from an unknown number. Weird.

She stepped out into the emergency room parking lot while Rick sat by the entrance. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Katherine Beckett?" a man with a deep voice asks on the other end.

"Who's calling, please?" Kate asks, not recognizing the voice.

"This is Officer Hank Jones of the NYPD 5th Precinct. Are you Jim Beckett's daughter?" says the man.

"Yes, this is Kate. I'm Jim's daughter," Kate replies, heart beating out of her chest.

"Miss, I'm sorry to say that your father has been in an accident and is on his way to the hospital."

"Uh, um, okay, which-which hospital?" Kate asks.

"Bellevue," he tells her. "He should be arriving there shortly. I can arrange to have an officer bring you there, if necessary."

"Um, no, I'm...I'm already here."