Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments or sent me messages about this story! I love that you seem to be enjoying it so far (and hopefully that continues!).

I promise, I have no intention to bring Adam back at all. He has served his purpose, now we (and Kate) can try to forget he ever existed! Haha. (Unless, of course, I decide I need him again sometime down the line... but with the way I have made myself despise this man, I don't see that happening).

Anyways, thank you again for taking the time to read my stories. I really do appreciate every single one of you! And to those who take that extra little bit of time to reach out and tell me what you're enjoying, what you're looking forward to, etc. or to ask me questions: you're the best! You absolutely make my day.

She walked slowly, cautiously, gun at the ready.

Radley was getting away from them. Again. She wouldn't allow it. Ryan was down - a bullet lodged deep into the Kevlar that guarded his torso - and Esposito had split off to enter the alleyway from the other side, to try and cut off any potential escape routes, leaving her (temporarily) without backup.

She had lost visual when Radley ducked into the alleyway. She rounded the corner almost immediately after, but he was gone. Vanished into thin air: or so she had thought. She heard the scuttle of a stone skipping along the bitumen behind her, the shuffle of feet. She turned but was met by the crack of metal against her skull and the echo of her pain-fuelled grunt echoed through the air. She stumbled and the world spun, replicated before her eyes until her surroundings were an indecipherable blur, but she managed to stay on her feet.

A kick to the ribs had her stumbling again, reaching out to try and steady herself. Even through her vest, she felt the full force of Radley's boot deep in her core. The second kick finally knocked her to the ground; a dissonant cry tore from her chest as she landed on her arm and a sudden, intense pain radiated from her wrist. She managed to shift onto her knees, her wrist clutched protectively to her chest. Waves of nausea washed over her - alternating with the waves of pain that stole the breath from her lungs - made it impossible to gain her bearings, to focus, to pull herself to her feet.

"Just stay down!" a distant voice warned.

She looked up at Radley, stared down the barrel of the gun pointed to her face. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her own weapon but she hesitated. She would only get one shot, one chance to disarm him and to save herself from the bullet inevitably headed her way. But her vision was dancing and her body moved slowly; he would see her lift her weapon and - even if she did manage to move quick enough - her aim would be far from accurate. Trying to defend herself was risky, would more than likely only lead to Radley pulling the trigger his finger was already so nervously resting against.

She opened her palm and her weapon slipped the few inches from her hand to the ground. Slowly, weakly, she lifted her hands to the sky in surrender. She closed her eyes; partially to dull the prickling of tears that formed as she moved her injured arm and partially because she didn't want to see what was coming next. She tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the only thing left was the pain. The throbbing in her head, the pressure at her ribs, the stabbing of rocks into her knees as she knelt; pain was everywhere.

"Beckett!"

Metal struck her, split the skin above her brow and triggered a slow rivulet of warmth to trickle down the side of her face.

A gunshot rang out and everything faded to black.

Kate jolted awake, sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes burst open and her entire body stiffened.

She looked around, searched the darkness for something familiar in her surroundings, something that would tell her where she was because she certainly was not on Rick's couch anymore. The hungry eyes that hung to her right - the portrait Rick had introduced as Linus the lion - were the somewhat reassuring sign she needed to help calm the rapid pounding of her heart, to steady each intake of breath.

She was okay.

She looked to her left, to her injured arm. It had been carefully propped up on pillows but that did little to ease the discomfort of the splint.

Just a few days, she reminded herself. Then it could come off.

She forced herself upright, groaned as her entire body seemed to protest. Her head was foggy - it pounded like a drum as if to keep up with each beat of her heart - and the dull ache that seemed to permeate through each bone in her body told her that it was probably about time for another dosage of her medication. The too bright digits on Rick's alarm clock confirmed that suspicion.

A soft but persistent click-clack pulled her out of bed and she followed the sound through the partially closed door, into the darkened space of Rick's office. The light from his laptop screen illuminated his face; showed each harsh line caused by his intense focus as his fingers glided effortlessly along the keys in front of him. She hadn't seen him like this - so in the zone, so caught up (in what she could only assume was his work) that the world around him ceased to exist - she couldn't resist the chance to observe, to take in the sight. She leant against the door frame, wrapped her good arm across her torso and smiled to herself as she watched him.

She wanted to ask him all the questions that swirled through her mind, but she didn't dare to break his concentration. But - as observant as ever, even in his trance - it didn't take long for him to notice her presence, to feel the burn of her eyes on him and allow himself to be pulled out of his fictional world.

He looked away from his latest chapter, toward the bedroom where she had been sleeping peacefully. He liked the way she looked - so comfortable in his clothes and in his space - as she leant and watched him, a half-smile on her beautiful face.

"Sorry," he said in a low, nurturing tone of voice. The same tone he used when Alexis was sick, or a friend was in need of consoling. For now, it seemed fitting. "Did I wake you?"

Kate shook her head. "No."

She pushed off from the door frame and took a few small steps toward the desk. Rick stood, too, meeting her halfway.

"Are you okay?" His hands dropped to her hips and he tilted his head, searched her eyes for answers. "In pain?"

"A little pain," she answered honestly. "But I'm okay."

Rick smiled and shook his head. "Stubborn," he uttered as he walked back to his desk. He picked up a pill bottle, tipped two small capsules into his palm and grabbed his glass of water. "Take these," he said after turning back to face her.

She accepted the offer gratefully, letting him drop the medication into her open palm and taking the glass with the other hand. "Thank you."

He watched as she popped the capsules into her mouth, swallowed them down with a gulp of the room temperature water.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Her eyes left his, darted over his shoulder to his laptop and then back to him.

Rick looked over his shoulder, following the path Kate's eyes had taken. "Oh, uh, writing. Well, trying."

"At two o'clock in the morning? Aren't you tired?"

"I'm fine," he replied, too quickly to be convincing.

Kate narrowed her eyes, pressed her teeth into her bottom lip as she tried to think of a reason why he wouldn't want to come to bed. It didn't take long for her to figure it out, though; not when his eyes kept drifting upward to study the evidence of today's misfortune.

"Rick," she sighed and took a step toward him, placed her hand on his chest.

He forced his attention back to her, studied the calm of her eyes instead of the angry bruising that was so rapidly forming above her brow. It had spread significantly over the hours: the tender red swell of pooling blood had expanded it's reach to the centre of her forehead; up, into her hairline. His brought his hand up and very gently - careful not to accidentally brush the enraged skin - brushed her hair back off her face.

"If you're forcing yourself to stay up because you're worried about, like, hurting my arm or something-"

"No," he said, cutting her off before she could complete her thought. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Rick's eyes dropped to the floor as Esposito's words echoed in his mind: She doesn't need to be coddled... this is more than just a job to her. He didn't want his concern, his protective and possibly too-caring nature, to be a cause of contention between them. He could accept the risks of her job - he really could - but that didn't mean he wouldn't worry, that he wouldn't want to be there for her, to nurse her back to health.

He wanted to be the one who was there for her when she needed someone.

And he never wanted her to have to ask for that because a large part of him suspected that she never would.

Every cop has seen this play out a hundred times. Either you understand, or you don't.

"I just want to keep an eye on you," he said as he shrugged his shoulders casually. "Can't really do that if I'm asleep."

Kate's unharmed brow lifted into a perfect arch. "Keep an eye on me?"

"Yeah, you know... make sure you don't slip into a coma or anything."

She dipped her head and lifted her hand to her mouth, hiding the wide smile that stretched across her face.

"Rick, I'm fine," she reassured him.

He disagreed. "You suffered a head injury-"

"It's not that bad," she insisted. "And the whole coma spiel is really just a worst-case, cover-their-asses kind of thing."

Rick remained silent as he processed her assurances, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to argue but couldn't quite decide if it was worth it or not.

"I promise I am okay. Just a little sore and groggy." His shoulders relaxed as he conceded and Kate smiled victoriously. "And tired," she added. "Because normal people are usually fast asleep at two in the morning."

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Go back to bed then," he retorted. He placed his hand on her hip and leaned closer to press a kiss to her cheek.

She all but fell into his embrace, wrapping her uninjured arm around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest, her head tucked carefully in the crook of his neck.

"Come with me?" she whispered when he closed his arms around her body.

She knew he was still hesitant, still sick with worry (despite his best efforts to put on a brave face for her) and frustrated because he just wanted to help but didn't know how - or if - he could.

She wished she was better at this: letting him in, being vulnerable.

She wished she could find the words to tell him that he was helping just by being there.

She wished she wasn't too proud to tell him that she was scared, that the rare but confronting reminder of just how quickly you can lose control of a situation had shaken her to her very core, that she needed him because his presence alone was enough to smother the fear that infiltrated her dreamland and threatened to overwhelm her completely.

"Please. I just-" She took a deep breath, pulled herself from his arms and looked up into his eyes. "I want you to hold me. If that's okay?"

Rick smiled, nodded his head. "Of course that's okay."

A loud bang resounded through the loft, violently pulling the pair from what had been a peaceful slumber.

Kate groaned and lifted her hands to cover her face as she rolled away from Rick, curling her body into a fetal position.

"You 'kay?" Rick asked, his voice nothing more than a sleepy rasp.

He cleared his throat and lifted his head to look around. Golden rays of morning sunlight filtered through his curtains, casting shadows across his room. It was quiet - serene - nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary was going on. Certainly nothing to have so abruptly disturbed his sleep, anyway. He turned to look at the woman beside him - still partially asleep with an adorable scowl on her face - and he couldn't help but smile.

Doesn't like to be woken, he noted.

"Kate," he whispered loud enough to know she had definitely heard him. "Are you awake?"

She didn't answer.

"Kate," he whispered again. He poked his index finger to her shoulder blade, watched her lips twitch as she tried to suppress a smile. "Are you really pretending to be asleep? You child."

Her eyes shot open and she turned to glare at him. But, in her haste to express her dislike of his accusation, she turned too quickly and aggravated the abused muscles of her torso. She gasped and wrapped her arms around her abdomen before curling up once more, groaning.

Rick's sympathetic grimace, however, quickly turned to a look of surprise.

"Dad!" he heard Alexis call out from somewhere on the other side of his bedroom walls.

Her voice was firm, a certain anger bubbling just below the surface.

"Dad?" she called out again; this time with a hint of concern added to her tone.

"Oh, shit," he whispered harshly to himself as he leapt from the bed.

His sudden movement was, evidently, enough to push Kate through any pain she had been feeling and she slipped from his sheets just moments after he did.

"What?" she asked, her voice mimicking his own panic. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot," he mumbled before rushing out of the room.

He raced through the office, skidded through the bookcase partitions that offered only the smallest amount of privacy from the main living portion of his home. His daughter was standing in the kitchen, his mother by her side, both looking at him disapprovingly.

"I am so sorry, Alexis," he started grovelling.

His mother put up her hand, a silent order for him to not bother with his apologies or explanations.

He saw it, he understood it.

He chose to ignore it.

"I didn't realise the time," he excused. His eyes darted around the room in search for the clock he had to have here somewhere. "Actually, what even is the time?"

Kate would probably need more pain relief soon.

"That's it?" Alexis asked. She crossed her arms in front of her. "It's almost nine. You were supposed to pick me up two hours ago."

"I know, Pumpkin. I'm so sorry, I just-" He looked over his shoulder to the bedroom. He knew his daughter - the kind and caring young woman that she was - would understand if he just explained the situation. He turned back to face her, began to explain. "I was up later than intended and I forgot to set an alarm. Kate-"

"You left me waiting for a hook up?" she asked him.

The offence was so evident in her voice, in the disappointed shake of his mother's head. Did they really think so little of him?

"No," he clarified.

"I'm sorry."

All three family members turned their attention toward the short corridor near the entrance, the one that led to Rick's bedroom. Kate stood, nervously fiddling with the splint on her left wrist as she forced herself to face his family.

The women in the kitchen tried to hide their surprise when they took in the sight of her: bruised and battered and just a little bit broken.

"It's my fault," she continued to apologise, to defend him against the accusations that should have been just as insulting to her as they had been to him. "I had... an accident at work and I, uh-" She turned to Rick, her eyes silently pleading for him to step in at any time and finish this awkward apology on her behalf.

"Concussion," he offered. "Someone had to keep an eye on her, make sure she wasn't trying to operate heavy machinery and such."

"Are you okay?" Alexis asked Kate, her eyes still glued to the deepening purple bruise on the detective's forehead.

Kate smiled awkwardly. "It probably looks worse than it really is."

"I'm sorry, Alexis," Rick said once more, hoping his daughter could find it in her heart to set her frustrations aside.

The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Well obviously it's okay," she conceded. "Now that I know what happened."

"It's not okay," Rick insisted. "I dropped the ball, left you stranded. It won't happen again."

Alexis nodded, accepted her father's apology.

"Why didn't you call, though?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I was mad."

"She called me, I was just a few blocks away, it's all sorted now!" Martha declared. "No harm, no foul. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a brunch to get ready for." She sauntered out of the kitchen and toward the staircase. She stopped at the bottom step and looked over to Kate. "It is good to see you again, my dear."

Kate returned the sentiment with a nervous smile. "You too, Martha."

"Wait-" Rick frowned. "Again?"

Martha looked over her shoulder and smirked at her son, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Vitamin K cream may help a little with the bruising," the woman told Kate before heading upstairs.

Kate took slow, cautious steps as she moved further into the living area of the loft: partially due to the tension she had unwittingly caused between father and daughter, and partially because the throbbing pain in her head had left her feeling just a little bit dizzy and nauseated.

Vigilant (as always), Rick had already begun to drift closer to her. His eagle-eyes were on her: watching, waiting.

"How's it feeling?" he asked as he reached up and brushed her hair away from the sterile-strip covered wound.

Kate wrapped her hand around his wrist and - regretfully - pulled away from his touch. "It's fine."

It wasn't that his touch was unwelcome, not at all. But his daughter being right there, watching them: it made her uneasy.

Vulnerability in front of Rick was one thing. Allowing his family to see her like this when she thought she had landed him in some kind of trouble with them, that was another. But allowing him to care for her? Allowing herself to want to be cared for? That was something she wasn't ready for anyone else to see.

"I should probably get going," she said softly.

"You don't have to leave because of me," Alexis insisted.

"It's not because of you," Kate assured the girl before turning her attention back to Rick. "Sorry you got stuck babysitting me."

"I don't consider myself stuck, more like the chosen one," he joked.

Kate huffed out a small laugh.

"Why don't you have something to eat first?"

"Rick-" she began to protest.

"Just a piece of toast," he bargained. "And maybe a some tea to help wash down the pain killers. You really should be taking them with food."

She sighed as she started to realise that arguing with him was probably just going to be a waste of the little energy she had.

"And then I'll drive you home," Rick added as if to sweeten the deal.

Kate looked over to Alexis and the girl smiled, nodded her head encouragingly.

"Okay," she relented, looking back at Rick. "But I am capable of making it myself."

"Of course you are," he said, a victorious grin on his face.

She definitely wasn't feeling any better than she had the day before.

Her head was pounding. Spinning. Floating.

At this point it didn't even feel like it was still attached to her body. Her aching, fatigued body.

But Rick was there, right by her side, easing her burden as they walked - slowly - down the hall to Lanie's apartment. The door was in sight: so close, yet so far.

His arm wrapped around her waist; tight enough to support some of her weight but he was careful not to put too much pressure on the tender muscles and ribs.

"You doing okay?" Rick asked for the second time since leaving his car just a few minutes ago. "We're almost there."

"Honestly, I just want to sleep," she admitted.

She didn't miss the grimace on his face - and she was sure he was compiling a mental list of notes to pass on to Lanie the second Kate was through the door. She wanted to be annoyed... but she couldn't help the slight smile that tugged the corners of her mouth upward.

Soft vibrations against his hip pulled his focus. Just seconds later, the sound of his phone ringing echoed against the cream-coloured walls.

"D'you need to get that?" Kate groaned, slowing her pace even more.

"Nope," he stated quickly. "Just ignore it. My hands are full anyway," he added, lifting the cotton tote bag Alexis had lent him that held Kate's clothes from yesterday.

She'd opted out of putting her bloodied button-up on, stayed in Rick's sweatshirt instead. She, of course, swapped the boxer shorts for a more socially acceptable pair of sweatpants but she definitely didn't look her best as she hobbled down the hallway.

"I appreciate your help," she said softly as Rick's phone continued to ring.

Just as they reached the apartment door, it opened and Lanie stepped out into the hallway with her phone pressed to her ear.

"I was just calling you," she said as she hung up and tucked her phone into her pocket.

"Why?" Rick asked as he dropped the tote bag against the wall. "Is everything okay?"

Lanie looked at Kate; gave her a once over and a sympathetic smile.

"Your dad is here."

Kate stiffened, straightened her posture and pulled herself from Rick's side. "Why?"

"I got a concerned call."

She heard the voice just seconds before her father stepped out from behind the door. His eyes slowly shifted up and down, taking in the sight of his battered daughter.

"Katie," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I was going to call you," she began: immediately on the defence.

"When?"

Lanie recoiled, slowly stepped back into her apartment and ducked out of sight.

Rick wished he could follow her. Instead, he seemed stuck right in the middle of an interaction he had no interest in being a part of.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. When I looked a little less like an extra in a horror movie."

The older man's eyes narrowed as he took another moment to study his daughters injuries. Then, he smiled.

"I would have said a tragedy," he commented. "But I get the gist."

The man opened his arms and Kate stepped forward into his embrace.

"What happened?" he asked as he gently rubbed a hand up and down his daughter's back.

She shook her head. "Stupid mistake." She pulled back and looked up at him. "Hold on. Who called you?"

"Who d'you think?"

Adam.

Kate groaned. "Asshole."

"He wanted to make sure you made it home safe."

"Sure he did," she said sarcastically. "He knows I'm staying here."

Her father nodded. "I know. I told him you were fine and to lose my number. And then I waited for you to call." The man's eyes peeled away from his daughter and he looked at Rick - pointedly so - before returning back to Kate. "I see you were busy."

Kate sighed. "Rick, this is my dad-"

"Jim," he said with a smile as he stepped forward and held out his hand.

Rick accepted it, shook it firmly as he introduced himself. "Rick. It's nice to meet you, Sir."

"Please; just Jim."

"Right. Jim."

"Thank you for looking after Katie," the man said earnestly. He looked back at Kate and smiled as he glanced over her outfit. "For making sure she's comfortable."

Kate folded her arms across her torso as if trying to hide herself. "I'll, uh- I'll get these back to you-"

"Don't worry about it," Rick assured her.

He bent and picked up the tote from the floor, giving it one last check to make sure all her belongings were inside of it.

"She's due for more pain meds in about three hours," he said aloud to no-one in particular as he dug through the bag.

"Rick, I'm perfectly capable of remembering-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I just- I like to make sure." He looked up from the bag and into her eyes. "It makes me feel a little less... useless."

Kate snatched the bag from his hands. "You're not useless," she corrected him.

Rick smiled. He appreciated her attempt but the slight wince she had tried to hide after taking the bag from his hands only served as a reminder that she wasn't okay right now. He turned to her father.

"She's been really tired."

"Rick!" she whined.

Jim chuckled to himself.

"I'm sorry!" Rick held his hands up in surrender. "I'm going now!"

He began to back away, smiling.

"Wait." She sighed and he stopped. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "For... everything."

For letting her stay, for taking care of her, for not pushing her for things she wasn't ready for: talking about Adam, getting to know her father. She knew he was curious about these aspects of her life and she appreciated his restraint more than he would ever know.

Rick smiled. "Any time."

He turned and started to walk back down the hall. After just a few steps he slowed, turned to face her.

"Call me," he said, still slowly walking backwards. "You know, only if you're feeling up to it."

"I will," she assured him.

She watched as he walked away; waited until he disappeared around the corner at the other end of the hall before slowly turning to find her father had been watching her the whole time.

"What?" she asked.

She moved past him, into the apartment and waited for him to follow her inside before closing the door behind them.

"So... that's Rick," he stated.

"Yep," Kate confirmed, adding a little extra pop to the last syllable. "That's Rick."

"He seems... nice," Jim commented. "Seems to really care about you."

"It's adorable, right?" Lanie added, all too giddy for Kate's liking.

Kate glared at her friend. "He's a good friend."

Jim and Lanie exchanged an amused glance, both trying (not hard enough) to hide the matching smirks on their faces.

"Oh, shut up," Kate grumbled.

She dropped the tote bag by the bookshelf and made a beeline for the couch.

"I didn't say anything," Lanie defended herself as she watched Kate flop down onto the couch and pull the blanket over herself. She walked over and sat by her friend's feet, placed a hand over Kate's blanketed hip. "You have to admit, though: it is kinda cute that he wants to take care of you."

Kate stared at her friend for a moment, then looked at her father.

"He made me soup," she told them, like it was some deep confession.

Jim pursed his lips, deep in thought.

"Good soup?" he asked after a moment's thought.

"Really good soup."

Quick poll, before we move on from Adam forever...

Do we think he really burned the artwork or will Kate get it back at some point?

I have ideas for both options but I am really unsure which path I want to take! Let me know what you think.