for good

AN: In which KB actually discusses her mental health.

"And it turns out this battle is only uphill"

"Dear Sobriety" by: Pistol Annies

Her hands were shaking, shaking harder than she thought possible. She could feel the blood flowing steadily down her arm, dripping onto the kitchen counter as she poured herself another glass of whiskey. The liquor spilled down onto the counter too, mixing with the blood as the shaking continued to make the simple task difficult. She slammed the bottle down with a little too much force and grabbed her glass, bringing it to her lips as she swayed slightly.

She let her eyes roam over her apartment, her once spotless living room now turned into what looked like a war zone. Broken glass, books thrown to the floor...what was wrong with her?

Kate shook her eyes, only making herself more dizzy. Once she steadied, she glanced down at her bloodied forearm with a sigh. She needed to get it covered, pick out the glass that she could see poking through. She tossed back the rest of her whiskey and placed the cup on the counter before making her way through the living room. She moved slowly, her steps wobbly as she avoided the shards of glass that covered her floor.

Once she safely made it across the room without cutting up the bottom of her sock-clad feet, she made her way down the hall and into the bathroom, crouching down to yank the cabinet below the sink open. Kate cursed as she undid the latch on the side of her first aid kit; she'd never restocked it after the last time she changed the dressed on her bullet wounds. Two old bandaids and an old tube of neosporin wasn't going to do her much good.

She sighed, tossing the box aside and shifting to sit back on her heels. The alcohol and panic got the best of her, though, knocking her off balance until she landed on her bottom. She clenched her teeth and ran her fingers through her hair, grimacing as the strands irritated her cut. She let out a shaky breath, shifting to the side to pull her phone from her pocket. She hesitated only briefly before pressing the call button.

Holding the phone to her ear, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when his voice flooded through after only two rings.

"Beckett?" He asked, his voice rough with sleep.

She felt bad for waking him, she really did. "Hey, Castle, I, uh need a favor."

Fifteen minutes later, she opened her apartment door and he strode inside with multiple bags from the CVS around the block from her place.

"Castle." She breathed, shaking her head with a smile. "I asked for some gauze and tape."

Castle shrugged, concern shining bright in his eyes as she shifted the bags to one hand. "Figured you could use some more supplies." He was joking- or at least attempting to make a joke. His eyes weren't quiet in it, unable to mask the fear. He looked her over, taking in the blood staining her pants, her shirt, even some drops on her socks.

"I'm okay." She told him, leading him into the living room.

He followed, nodding toward her coffee table as he took a seat on the couch. "Sit."

She nodded, reaching over to flick the lamp on before taking a seat on the table in front of him.

"What happened?" He asked, leaning down to riffle through the plastic bags.

Kate lifted a shoulder, swaying slightly as she did. "Just an accident."

He glanced at her and then the rest of her place as he pulled the tweezers from their package, fighting with himself over what to say. She hated that, hated that he felt like he had to be so careful around her. In the end, he simply nodded, taking her answer that she knew he didn't buy.

"I'm okay." She repeated, watching as he reached out to take her wrist. He gently moved her arm around, assessing the damage.

"You're drunk." He told her.

"Doesn't mean I'm not okay."

"Beckett." His voice was stern, different than what she was used to.

"What?"

He picked up the tweezers, going in for a piece of glass stuck in the wound."You need help."

"I'm getting help. For one hour, three times a week."

"You're going to therapy?"

"Yep." She said quietly as she watched him pick out the last of the tiny shards of glass.

He looked up at her and gave her a small, encouraging smile. "That's good, Beckett."

"Yeah, well, load of good it's doing me."

"Hey," He nudged her knee with his elbow, his tone slightly scolding. "You'll get there."

"Look at this place. I completely...freaked out."

"You got scared. It happens to the best of us, Beckett."

"It's more than that, Castle. I-I…its more than just being scared." She told him quietly, bringing her good hand up to press at her scar.

Castle nodded in understanding. "I know."

"My heart felt like it was going to come out of chest. I couldn't breathe. My head- somewhere in there I knew it wasn't really but I just couldn't think rationally."

He was quiet as he slathered the cut with the antibiotic ointment he'd brought from his place, listening to her.

"I feel so hyper aware of my surroundings but also...disengaged. If that makes any sense at all."

"It does." He told her. "Have you talked with your therapist about this?"

"I have, yeah." She watched as he wrapped her forearm with gauze and medical tape. "I just- I feel like I'm never going to get better." Kate said, her voice quiet.

"You'll get there. You're getting there now."

She looked around, at the broken glass she'd swept to one side of her living room while she'd waited for him.

He went on before she could say anything. "You're talking about what you're feeling. Asking for help- from your therapist, calling me? That's huge, Kate."

She looked at him, at the earnest look in his eyes. He loved her; she could see it clearly. If she hadn't already known, that look would have given her all the confirmation she'd have ever needed. She so desperately wanted to be better, stronger, stable- everything he deserved.

"I'm trying, Rick. I'm trying so hard." She rasped, her brow furrowing.

"I know you are." He gently patted her knee, resting his hand there and moving his thumb back and forth. "Now, let's get this place cleaned up and then we can settle in for a movie before the ice cream melts. I'll get us some spoons while you grab the broom."

The corners of her mouth quirked. "You brought ice cream?"

"Your best friend calls you upset in the middle of the night? You're legally obligated to bring ice cream." He told her, pushing himself to his feet.

Kate stood, smiling."Oh, really?"

"Yeah. If I'd shown up here without it you would have had to arrest me."

She laughed, shaking her head. "We wouldn't want you in handcuffs, would we?."

"Not yet anyway." He said teasingly, snagging the CVS bag and making his way to her kitchen. She watched him go, surprised.

He pulled her silverware drawer open, picking two spoons out. "Ice cream's melting, Beckett."

AN: Just a short bit where they actually talk about her mental health. I always wished they'd talked about it more.