Chapter Text
Kate sat on the couch, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug as she stared at Lucy across from her. The morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. It should have felt peaceful. Instead, Kate’s chest was tight with hesitation.
Lucy, ever perceptive, set her own mug down and leaned forward. “You’re thinking about something.”
Kate huffed a small, dry laugh. “You always know.”
Lucy tilted her head. “Only because I know you.”
Kate took a breath, choosing her words carefully. “I think… I want to go to therapy.”
Lucy’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything right away. She just watched Kate, giving her space to explain.
Kate swallowed. “After the accident, I convinced myself I could handle it on my own. That if I just pushed through, I’d be fine. But the truth is, I’m not fine.” She clenched her jaw. “I’m scared, Lucy. Scared of not getting better. Scared of failing in front of everyone. Scared of—”
Lucy reached for her hand, grounding her. “Of what?” she asked gently.
Kate exhaled shakily. “Of letting you down.”
Lucy’s grip tightened. “Kate… you could never let me down.”
Kate looked at her, vulnerable and open in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. “I don’t want to be someone you have to take care of forever.”
Lucy shook her head, eyes filled with quiet intensity. “You’re not a burden, Kate. You’re my person. And if therapy helps you, if it makes you feel stronger, then I’ll support you every step of the way.”
Kate let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Yeah?”
Lucy smiled softly. “Yeah.”
Kate sat in the therapist’s office, her hands resting on her lap. The room was warm and inviting, nothing like the cold, sterile environments she was used to in her line of work. But still, she felt exposed, like she was standing in a spotlight with nowhere to hide.
Dr. Porter, a woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes, sat across from her, holding a notepad. “I appreciate you coming in today, Kate. First sessions are usually just about getting to know each other. No pressure, no expectations.”
Kate nodded stiffly. “Right.”
Dr. Porter studied her. “You’ve been through a lot recently. The accident, recovery, adjusting to new challenges… that’s a lot for anyone to process.”
Kate let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well. A lot of people are going through the same thing.”
Dr. Porter didn’t flinch at the deflection. “And yet, you’re here.”
Kate swallowed, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her jeans. “Because I don’t want to lose myself in this.” Her voice was quieter now, more uncertain. “I don’t want this to define me.”
Dr. Porter nodded. “That makes sense. But healing isn’t about erasing what happened. It’s about integrating it into your story in a way that doesn’t control you.”
Kate blinked, something about those words hitting deeper than she expected. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Dr. Porter offered a reassuring smile. “Then let’s start small. Tell me about the moment you realized you needed help.”
Kate hesitated, then exhaled. “Lucy.”
Dr. Porter raised an eyebrow. “Lucy?”
Kate nodded, a small smile ghosting her lips. “She never gave up on me. Even when I tried to push her away.” Her expression turned serious. “I want to be strong, for myself, but also for her. And I know I can’t do that if I don’t face this.”
Dr. Porter nodded. “That’s a great place to start.”
_-_-_-_-_-_–_-__-_-_
The midday sun cast a warm glow over the NCIS Pearl Harbor headquarters as Kate maneuvered her wheelchair through the bullpen’s doors, a familiar smile playing on her lips. She had promised Lucy she’d drop by for lunch, and the prospect of surprising her girlfriend added a spring to her movements.
As she navigated the bustling corridors, she noticed the new agent, Alan, juggling a stack of files and a steaming coffee mug. His eyes widened when he saw Kate, clearly recognizing her.
"Agent Whistler! I—uh—didn't see you there," Alan stammered, attempting to step aside. In his haste, his foot caught on the edge of the rug, sending him—and his coffee—tumbling forward.
Time seemed to slow as the dark liquid arced through the air, splashing onto Kate's lap. The immediate sensation was startling—a sharp, searing heat spreading across her thighs. Reflexively, she gasped, her hands gripping the armrests of her wheelchair.
"Lucy!" Kate's voice rang out, a mix of surprise and something else—something she hadn't felt in months.
Within moments, the bullpen sprang to life. Lucy was the first to reach Kate, her eyes wide with concern. "Kate! What happened?"
Before Kate could respond, the rest of the team—Jane, Jesse, Kai, and Ernie—crowded the doorway, their faces etched with worry.
"I'm so sorry, Agent Whistler," Alan babbled, his face pale. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay, Alan," Kate interrupted, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes, but not from pain. She looked up at Lucy, a shaky smile breaking through. "I felt it."
Lucy blinked, processing the words. "You... you felt it?"
Kate nodded, a tear escaping down her cheek. "The coffee. I felt the burn on my legs."
The room fell silent as the weight of her words settled over them. Then, as one, the team broke into relieved smiles.
"That's incredible!" Jane exclaimed, stepping forward to place a comforting hand on Kate's shoulder.
Ernie grinned. "This calls for a celebration!"
Kai chuckled, nudging Jesse. "Looks like Alan's clumsiness finally did some good."
Alan, still hovering nearby, looked both mortified and hopeful. "I'm really sorry, Agent Whistler. But... I'm glad I could help?"
Kate laughed, a sound filled with genuine joy. "It's okay, Alan. Really."
Lucy knelt beside Kate, taking her hand. "This is amazing, Kate. It's progress."
Kate squeezed Lucy's hand, her heart swelling with hope. "Yeah. It is."
As the team rallied around her, offering words of encouragement and plans for a celebratory lunch, Kate couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events. A simple accident had reignited a spark of sensation in her legs—a sign that healing was happening, even if in the most unforeseen ways.
And surrounded by her NCIS family, Kate felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
The next day, the Hawaiian sun cast a warm glow over the deck as Kate and ASAC Michael Curtis shared lunch. The gentle rustling of palm leaves and the distant crash of waves provided a serene backdrop to their conversation.
"I have to admit," Curtis began, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "when we first met, I never imagined we'd be sharing meals like this."
Kate chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Neither did I. But life has a funny way of bringing people together."
Their relationship had evolved unexpectedly. Initially, their interactions were strictly professional, marked by the occasional clash of opinions. However, the aftermath of Kate's accident had shifted their dynamic. Curtis had been a steady presence during her recovery, offering support in ways she hadn't anticipated.
"How's the recovery going?" Curtis asked, genuine concern in his eyes.
"It's been challenging," Kate admitted, "but I'm making progress. Physical therapy is tough, but I'm starting to see improvements."
Curtis nodded thoughtfully. "You've always been resilient. It's one of the things I respect about you."
Kate smiled, appreciating his words. "Thank you, Michael. That means a lot coming from you."
They continued their meal, discussing everything from recent cases to favorite Hawaiian eateries. The ease of their conversation was a testament to the bond they'd formed—a friendship born out of adversity and mutual respect.
Curtis leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. "You know, this experience has taught me the value of unexpected friendships. I'm grateful for ours."
Kate reached across the table, placing a hand on his. "So am I, Michael. So am I."
In that moment, amidst the tranquil Hawaiian setting, two colleagues recognized the profound connection they'd forged—a reminder that even in the face of challenges, meaningful relationships can emerge, offering strength and companionship.