Chapter one
When she had awoken, numb and confused, she had been so certain that things couldn't get any worse.
She soon found out, however, that she couldn't have been more wrong.
Her days were dark as she torpidly moved through the notions of learning what came next; all things that she hadn't thought to prepare for, all things no one had warned her about.
She was haunted by phantom kicks and fluttering movements in her abdomen. Unsure if it was her denial, or her medicated state, she found it all too easy to convince herself her son was still with her, still tucked safely inside of her.
All too easy to convince herself she still had time, that there was a chance that this could all have ended differently.
But, after just two days, the nurses began to wean her off of her medication. The switch from morphine to paracetamol had forced her to acknowledge the truth; the sporadic stabbing pain from her surgical incision was simply too hard to ignore.
And then her milk came in, leaving her breasts sore, swollen and leaking. She was told that it could last just a few days, or maybe several weeks. It was best not to pump, not to 'trick' the body into thinking there was a demand for her supply. And so, without a newborn to feed, she could find no relief from the engorgement.
It was so cruel, the way life taunted her.
Kate spent four weeks in recovery: one week in the hospital, being monitored for lingering effects of her sudden on-set preeclampsia; and three weeks in the prison's medical block. She was granted another three weeks in Protective Custody, to allow for her scar to heal sufficiently, before she would be placed back into general population. For that, she was grateful.
For the three weeks she had been in the medical block, she wasn't able to see visitors and she hadn't made an effort to make any calls. She hadn't seen or talked to anyone since that godforsaken day. She had barely even spoken to Dr Costa, Officer Lartius or any of the other guards that monitored the medical block. Her heart yearned to know that Theo was okay; that he was happy and healthy and thriving without her; that he carried no trauma from that day, unlike her. But every time she worked up the courage to approach the phones, she felt the breath be stolen from her lungs. It was like her feet were cemented to the ground and she was incapable of taking those last few steps toward the phone. It hurt too much.
So, she wasn't surprised when she was informed that she had a visitor today. Her father had probably been hounding anyone he could reach for information. She shouldn't have left him in the dark for so long, shouldn't have been so selfish to have cut off all communication with everyone, so she agreed to the visit and made her way to the visitor's room.
Jim was sitting at a table, his leg bouncing anxiously, when she entered the room. The moment he saw her, he smiled and rose to his feet.
"Katie," he said on a breath of relief.
"Hi, Dad." She moved closer, hugged her father and took a short moment to linger in the familiar embrace.
"How are you?" he asked her when she finally pulled back. "I hope they're taking care of you properly," he began to lecture. "You have rights, you know. They can't expect you to-"
"Dad," she interrupted with a reassuring smile. They both sat, then she continued. "I'm fine. I'm taking it easy for now." She explained her current arrangement, the segregation they'd arranged to ensure she healed properly and that seemed to alleviate some of his concerns. "In a few weeks I'll probably start work again, they said I could work in the commissary for a while, until I'm able to get back into the laundry."
She didn't tell her father about her concerns in regard to being put back into general population but she knew he shared those concerns.
"Have you seen Castle?"
Her father let out a heavy sigh and leant back in the metal chair.
"Martha and Alexis visit him weekly," he told her. "They say he is doing well. He's eager to hear from you again, though."
Guilt filled her, pinched uncomfortably underneath her ribs. She'd still been receiving letters from Castle; read them all at least a dozen times, as if her life depended on it. And some days she truly felt like it did, like his words were the only thing that kept her from completely losing herself to this darkness that had been trying to suffocate her. She had written out several replies only to tear the papers to shreds. She knew he wouldn't want her to apologise but that's all she seemed to be able to write to him. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Again and again.
"I haven't personally been to visit him. Not since..." Jim's words trailed off and he looked around the room. "I brought photos," he told her, changing the subject.
Kate perked up, her stomach summersaulting as Jim reached into the breast pocket of his coat. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't felt a twinge of disappointment when she walked in to see Jim was here alone, despite knowing that he obviously wouldn't be bringing a four week old infant to a prison. Still, the idea of seeing Theo for the first time had her nerves rioting, contradicting themselves in every way. She was eager, yet hesitant. Excited, but filled with dread.
Jim passed her a small, white envelope. It was heavy in her hands, held at least a dozen photographs.
"Next time, maybe I can bring Teddy," he said cautiously.
The use of a nickname filled her heart, if only to shatter it.
Kate closed her eyes to hold back her tears, and shook her head. She still hated the thought of her precious son being here. Ideally, he'd never have to step foot on these grounds. Realistically, though, she knew she couldn't go much longer without seeing him.
"Not yet," was all she managed to say, swallowing the thick lump that clogged her throat.
Then, she forced her eyes open and pulled the small stack of photographs from the envelope.
The first image was from the hospital: she recognised the blue stripe that ran the length of the solid white wall in the background. Theo was in a clear, plastic bassinet, swaddled in a soft blue wrap with a matching beanie on his head. Above his head was a hand-made plaque that read Theodore James Castle. Kate's tears were instant and plentiful, her shattered sob the only sound between them.
"He's perfect," she whispered.
She tore her eyes away from the photo and looked at her father.
"He is," Jim agreed with a smile. "He's nothing like you were," he added.
Kate spat out a laugh, too enamoured with the tiny blue bundle in the image to even care that her father had insulted her.
"I mean, he looks nothing like you did," Jim corrected once he realised his mistake. "Martha got out Rick's baby album. One of his first photos is in the pile somewhere. Our Little Bear is a spitting image of his father."
Kate went through the images one by one, studying each and every one of them. Mostly images of just Theo, but several of the photos were of Martha, Alexis and her father, too. And then she found the photograph of a newborn that seemed more aged than the brand new images she had flipped through. She placed it on the table, beside that first image of Theo. Martha was right, they were nearly identical.
"How are Martha and Alexis?" Kate asked after a few minutes.
"Alexis has been wonderful," Jim told her. "She's not working at the moment, letting Hayley handle everything at the PI office but the plan is for her to slowly integrate back into work once we all settle into some sort of routine."
Kate tried to smile but she knew it was more of a grimace. She still worried about Alexis taking on this responsibility, often thinking about all the things the girl could be doing instead if her life hadn't been turned upside down by all of this.
"Is she still seeing friends?"
Jim nodded. "One of her friends has intense baby fever. At this point I'm pretty sure she'll be moved in by the end of the month." He laughed.
"But is Alexis getting out?" Kate asked, clarifying what she actually wanted to know.
"It's only been a few weeks, Katie. Alexis is fine. She and Martha make a wonderful team and on the weekends - well, that's Pop's time to shine," he said proudly, patting his chest.
Kate smiled a genuine smile. "Pop," she repeated, nodding her head slowly as she processed everything she had learned today. "Bet you'll spoil him rotten," she accused playfully.
"He'll be Pop's best friend. I'll have a fishing rod in his hands in no time."
She had no doubt. In fact, she could picture it so clearly in her mind: her father, standing by the water, waiting for the fish to bite; a little boy, no taller than his Pop's knee, flinging his own rod back and forth, scaring away any potential catch.
"If he's like his father, you'll have to teach him how to be still," she laughed tearfully.
Jim laughed, too, and placed his hand over his daughter's. For just a moment, they sat in silence. That was one thing her father always excelled at: being a comforting presence while she sat with her emotions, the ones too heavy to deal with on her own.
"Can you, uh, can you do me a favour?" she asked, sniffling, after a few minutes.
"Anything."
"Can you... can you take him to Mum?"
It had been painful enough when she first found out that she was pregnant; knowing that she would never be able to introduce her child to her mother. Now, in a cruel twist of fate, she'd never even have the consolation of doing so symbolically, by taking Theo to where Johanna was laid to rest.
"It doesn't have to be soon. Whenever you're comfortable. I just- I want him to know about her."
"Of course," her father assured her with small smile. "He'll know about her, Katie. You can tell him all about her."
Kate shook her head, closed her eyes and held back a fresh wave of tears. She didn't want to be mollified by the unrealistic notion that she'd ever have a normal mother/son relationship, that she would be the one introducing him to the important people in his life or teaching him about his family's history. She didn't need that right now; couldn't handle it right now.
For now, all she needed was to know her father would do her this favour.
"I like to take her lilies," she told him. "Just a single stem, each time I visit. I know I'm asking too much-"
"It's not too much."
She forced a thankful smile, then distracted herself by looking through the photos one more time.