The Hardest Things - Chapter 3
Every little movement in her peripheral vision has her lifting her head, ready to spring to her feet to greet a doctor and ask what's happening with her husband. Each time, though, there's no reason to move; the motion is just other people waiting for information on their loved ones, nurses going on shift, even Darah checking on her once or twice. It's never the surgeon she hopes to see, never her father and mother coming to join her in her vigil.
After two hours of sitting hunched in the chair, her legs have gone to sleep and her back screams at the uncomfortable position she's adopted. She straightens with a grimace, scrubbing her hand over her face.
"Here, honey," Darah says, appearing at her elbow with a bottle of water. "Have a drink and stretch your legs."
Taking the bottle from Darah's hands, Kate gets to her feet, but she doesn't make any attempt to walk away. She's not sure she could move if she wanted to be completely honest, but she still doesn't try. "Is there any news?"
"I checked before I walked over so I could give you an update: he's still in surgery." Off Kate's slumped shoulders, Darah shakes her head and continues, "That's a good thing, Kate. It means they're still working on him, as they should be. They're right on schedule."
Her throat tightens. "I hadn't thought of that. That being done earlier would mean something had gone wrong."
Darah reaches out, squeezing her shoulder. "In my opinion, the best surgeries are the routine ones, and that includes routine timing. Being on schedule means there've been no surprises, good or bad."
"Oh. That- that helps, thank you."
"I'm glad I can help, even if it's not much."
Kate's head thrashes. "No, it's more than you know. I'm losing my mind a little bit, and you're keeping me from going completely crazy."
Darah's hand moves to her back, rubbing gentle circles. "You said your mother is in the ER?"
Kate nods, sucking in a deep breath. "She and Rick were attacked tonight. She was able to call us – my dad and me – and she's not up here, too, so she's doing better than Rick is, but-"
"She's still hurt," Darah finishes for her. Kate nods.
"Yeah."
"Have you seen her?"
"Not yet. My dad went to find her – he stayed with her. I just came straight up here."
"Go see her, Kate." Darah nudges her toward the elevator. "I'll have you paged if there's any news about Rick. Trust me, you need to see your mom."
She's reluctant to hit the button, but she nods in agreement. If her parents haven't made it up here yet, her mom probably hasn't been discharged. For all she knows, it could be hours still.
"If anything changes," she starts, turning back only to be waved on.
"I will make sure you're called immediately, Kate."
"Okay. Thanks. Thank you."
She has no recollection of being told where her mother is the first time she was down in the ER, and she finds herself at the nurses' station once more.
"Hi, can you tell me if my mother, Johanna Beckett, has been discharged? And if she hasn't, where I can find her? My father is with her – we came in together earlier tonight."
Thankfully, the nurse doesn't challenge her or make her jump through too many hoops. Instead, he points Kate in the direction of her mother's bed.
"She's being admitted," he adds as she turns to leave. "They're just waiting for the bed to open up."
Kate nods, not even thinking to ask why her mom is being admitted for a stay if she was able to call them earlier.
The gruff-looking man in jeans and a windbreaker jacket standing at the partition to her mother's "room" is a surprise. He straightens when Kate nears but does nothing more than give her a nod as she steps past him and sticks her head inside.
The room is empty, leading her to spin on her heel and look for someone who might be able to tell her what the hell is happening. The nurse hadn't mentioned that her mom wouldn't be here.
"Tests," the man she'd passed on her way in says. "She'll be back."
Her eyes narrow. "Who the hell are you?"
She gets a badge flashed at her, but it's gone too quickly for her to really commit it to memory. "Raglan, detective."
"Detective. Are you here because my mother and my husband were attacked?"
"I'm here to get her statement. And your husband's if he's able to talk."
Kate crosses her arms over her chest, holding onto some of Darah's optimism. "He's still in surgery."
Raglan nods. "Sorry to hear that."
Yeah, he sounds really sorry. If anything, he seems bored. Bored with having to wait for a woman who may have nearly died just a few hours ago to return to her room. Bored with the idea of waiting for a man who might still die if they're unlucky.
"What're you going to do to get the guy who did this to them?"
Raglan looks her over, his expression vacant. Great, a cop too busy coasting his way to retirement to bother actually solving crimes.
"I'll take their statements. Then my partner and I will canvas the area where they were found, looking for witnesses; we'll do everything we can to find whoever did this to your mother and your husband."
It's delivered with the droll, rehearsed cadence of someone who's simply reciting his lines. Kate refrains from asking him how many times a day he says that and doesn't deliver, nodding instead.
"Thank you," she exhales, rubbing a hand over her face. She grimaces when her fingers come away with makeup. "Was my mother gone when you got here?"
"They were just takin' her. Didn't say where, though."
She nods again, looking around. The idea of being away from the surgical floor for too long has her heart thumping, but she won't leave without seeing her mom, not if she can help it.
"Then I guess we're waiting he-"
"Katie?"
She spins, heart rocketing into her throat. "Mom!"
Johanna smiles tiredly from her seat in the wheelchair, holding out an arm to Kate. The other remains against her chest, held stiffly even as Kate drops to her knees and buries her head against Johanna's shoulder. Her mom hisses but pulls Kate closer anyway.
"I know, baby. I know," Johanna murmurs into Kate's hair. "I'm sorry about all of this. Is Rick okay?"
Kate breaks, sucking in a deep breath only to have it spill out as a sob. "I don't know, Mom. I don't know. He's been in surgery – he's still in surgery – and I have no idea how he is. And I had no idea how you were, and–"
She shudders, biting back the rest of her word dump. "What happened, Mom?"
Johanna exhales, kissing Kate's temple. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm okay; a little beat up, but okay."
"A little?" she chokes out, pulling away to look Johanna over. Her mother has stitches in three places on her face, bruises covering her cheek, and there's a bandage peaks out of the neck of her hospital gown. Not to mention, she's still holding her arm – also bandaged – close to her chest. This is what Johanna calls a little beat up?
Johanna swipes gentle fingers over Kate's wet cheeks. "A few cuts, a concussion, a bruised rib or two, and a no-longer dislocated shoulder, while all painful, are preferrable to the alternative. Rick saved my life, Katie. He saved my life, and he got hurt because of it. And I'm so sorry, honey."
Her heart thunders against her ribs. "You didn't know it was going to happen, Mom. You couldn't know."
She sniffs, resting her forehead on Johanna's shoulder – the good one, hopefully – and sucking in shaky breaths.
"I know," Johanna soothes. "How long is Rick supposed to be in surgery?"
"Three and a half – maybe four hours, or so?" Kate guesses, trying in vain to remember all the time frames Darah had given her. "I-he might be out soon. The desk will call me once they get updates, Darah promised me that."
Her father's hand lands on her shoulder, his fingers extending to offer to help her up from the floor. Kate hesitates, but a gentle, though somewhat pained, smile from her mother makes the decision for her and she allows Jim to pull her to her feet.
"You should be in bed, shouldn't you?"
Her mom nods. "They're waiting to transfer me to a bed upstairs, but for now I'm hanging tight. Taking the good pain meds."
Kate laughs, wiping her eyes again. She probably looks like shit by now, having smeared what remains of her makeup with every tear and swipe over her face. "Yeah, I bet."
She follows her mother's wheelchair the rest of the way into her partitioned area, hanging back as the orderly helps Johanna back into the bed. Agony flashes across Johanna's face, forcing Kate to look away.
So much for the good drugs.
She jumps at the touch of her father's hand on her shoulder, but goes willingly into the hug he offers, squeezing him tightly.
"There's a detective here," she says after a moment, glancing over her father's shoulder to see Raglan lurking at the edge of the curtain. "He wants to ask mom some questions, take her statement."
"And get both of yours as well," Raglan says, taking her acknowledgement as an invitation to step inside.
Jim looks confused and more than a little guarded. "Our statements?"
"You never told me that," Kate says. "Are you insinuating that we had something to do with this?" Kate asks. Her jaw drops at the thought. "You think we-"
Raglan glances her way. "Just trying to be thorough, Mr. Beckett, Ms. Beckett. While your wife gets settled, why don't I talk to the two of you, and then I can come back to speak with her."
Kate looks to her father, waiting until he nods in acquiescence to follow Raglan out of the curtained room.
"I know you're ready to get back to Mrs. Beckett and Mr. Castle, so I'll make this fast," Raglan says, sounding slightly less bored than before. "Where were you tonight?"
"At dinner," Kate answers, crossing her arms over her chest. "We were waiting for Mom and Rick to join us, and they never showed."
"What restaurant?"
"Gio's on West 11th," she says. "We were there for over an hour, close to two."
"We were almost to the subway at 9th when Johanna called and told us to come to the hospital," Jim adds.
Raglan makes a couple of notes on a pad of paper and looks between them again. "And can either of you think of anyone who might have reason to harm your loved ones? Have either of them fought with anyone," he pauses, pointed, "lately?"
"If you're asking if either of us fought with our spouses, and then promptly attacked them or had someone else do it," Jim summarizes drolly, "the answer is no. No, we did not. Katie, would I be correct in that?"
"The last time my husband and I fought, it was over who would eat the last third of a pint of ice cream," she says, matter of fact. "The argument was resolved ten seconds later when we decided to share it. I assure you, though, I have no hard feelings toward Rick because he didn't offer me the last bite of Rocky Road. Rick and my mother are good people. Caring people. My mother helps people; people who otherwise might not get any help at all."
She takes a deep breath, looking back toward her mother's bed. "Now, do you have any other questions, Detective, or can I go check on my husband and make sure he survived being attacked badly enough to need surgery?"
Raglan shakes his head. "I'm sure we'll talk more later, Ms. Beckett."
She nods in concession. She's sure they will. "I'm going to tell mom I'm going and then head back upstairs," she murmurs to her father, stepping back inside the curtain.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time (Sunday).