A/N: Takes place just before the end of "Reckoning", after Kate is found and before the final scene.
Fortunately for Kate, every cop she knows carries extra sweats in their trunk, because she cannot stand wearing this shirt and pants for one more second. Huntington tosses her a set as she enters the ambulance, and at the first possible moment Kate pulls the back door shut and whips off her top, dropping it on the gurney.
"Hey, Detective, come on," says an EMT. "Blood pressure, heart rate, you know the drill."
Kate doesn't even spare him a glance, but yanks the hoodie on and zips it all the way up, then shoves the pants down and just as quickly swaps them for the warm gray NYPD sweats. She then sticks her head out the back door and whistles to get Ryan's attention.
"Evidence," she says shortly, handing him the discarded shirt and pants. Then and only then does she sit down on the gurney while the EMTs go through their routine. She's got abrasions on her wrists, particularly the left one, and her bleeding fingertips get cleaned and Band-Aided.
"We don't know what you were injected with," says an EMT, "but your reflexes and pupils look good, so you can go. But see your doctor if you experience dizziness, nausea, any other side effects, yadda yadda yadda."
Kate exchanges an almost-smile with the EMT and leans out the back door of the unit, preparing to step down. A hand appears to assist, and she takes it, looks up, really smiles this time.
It's Castle, of course. Being cautious, because he knows what it's like to flinch at every movement, expect attack from unexpected quarters. Kate abandons caution and holds her arms out like a child, so he steps closer and swings her into his embrace, carrying her over to a squad car where someone has come up with some sneakers for her.
She doesn't want to let go of him, and obviously the feeling is mutual. They step out of the elevator into Homicide, into a room full of people who rise to applaud. Part praise and relief for their comrades, and part sheer satisfaction at knowing they've rid the world of two creatures that have tortured it too long.
Reality trickles back into her senses when there's mention of assault charges, and she manages to let go of Castle and follow Gates into her office. Kate gives her statement in a flat tone, trying to maintain the detachment cultivated by every law enforcement officer, but when she gets to the part where she comes to in Kelly Nieman's surgery setup, she has to breathe deeply and stare at the nameplate on Gates' desk.
She's startled when Gates comes around the desk to sit in a chair next to her.
"Detective, I know this is difficult for you," says her boss quietly. "I appreciate that you might need a little time to regroup. You can stay here in my office for a bit, if you want."
"No, I'm - I'm all right." Kate shakes herself and looks Gates in the eye. "I want to get this over with."
"Fair enough." Gates taps the recorder button to resume and asks, "Can you recall anything Nieman said in your presence?"
Kate reports Nieman's brief remarks about Jerry Tyson and salvation, the phone conversation that she heard one side of, her uncertainty as to her own fate until she realized that, once Nieman had all the data she needed, she wouldn't need Kate any more.
"I didn't know if she meant to - torture me, first, or just to kill me, or - I wasn't under anesthesia, she wanted me alive and aware of whatever she was - "
Kate gulps down remembered panic, appreciating Gates' patience and forbearance. When Kate resumes, Gates gives her an encouraging smile.
"She was getting ready to leave," Kate says. "She had a set of scalpels laid out next to the table I was on; when she said, 'It's time,' she glanced down to pick up one of them and I yanked my arm loose. I caught her wrist - just as she was leaning over with the scalpel."
She looks up at Gates, feeling equal parts haunted and victorious.
"She lost her balance. I threw her across me, across the table, and her arm twisted and she dropped the knife. I got my other arm free. She tried to get up - she was hanging on the table and I hit her and grabbed another knife and cut the bindings off my legs - rolled off and landed on my feet - She came at me again and - "
Kate sighs. "Honestly, sir, I'm not sure exactly what happened after that. All I know is that I was standing there, watching her bleed out, when the boys broke into the room. Everything got really quiet - and then I heard Castle and I couldn't figure out where he'd come from - "
"She was dead when they got there," Gates tells her. "We don't know how long - Tory's going to try to get a video capture from Nieman's feed."
Kate just nods. She feels like she's just thrown up everything in her stomach, wobbly, weary. Gates goes on talking, telling Kate what happens next, just a matter of routine, since she already knows. There's a tap on the door and Ann Hastings comes in.
"Detective," says the officer. "Castle's still giving his statement, but he thought you might want some coffee."
She sets a cup down on the table. Gates smiles even as she's writing something down. Hastings closes the door and Kate picks up the cup and just holds it, inhaling the aroma and gazing at the heart shape in the foam. It makes her feel connected to Rick, somehow, and part of her stirs back to life.
Gates goes about her business, writing and speaking on the phone, doesn't ask Kate to leave, so Kate sits, eventually sipping the coffee, waiting for Castle. They hadn't spoken much on the way over and she feels suddenly curious about his side of the story.
"Tyson is dead," Kate says out loud. "He's dead. Right?"
Gates looks up from her desk. "He is, Kate. He was shot, right in front of Mr. Castle, and was killed instantly, as far as we can tell."
"We have the body?"
"On its way to the morgue, if it isn't already there. Perlmutter's doing the autopsy; I excused Dr. Parish from having to deal with either of them."
Kate nods. Through the barely-open blinds on Gates' office window, she sees a familiar shape peering in, and a moment later Castle is in the room. Looking worn, but grinning at her and Gates like he's killed a dragon with his bare hands.
"Captain, may I take my wife home now, please?"
"Of course," says Gates. "And I don't want to see either of you back here for a week, unless I call for you myself."
"Yes, sir," they say in unison.
At home, the bedroom lights are on, and once Castle bolts the door behind them he sweeps her into his arms again and carries her directly into her second-favorite room: the bathroom. It's on a par with the most lavish hotel she's ever set foot in (usually because there's been a murder there) and he sets her on the counter and shucks off his jacket and shoes.
"Bath or shower?" he asks.
"Bath."
He moves around, getting towels and robes set up, turning on the water and adding fragrant bath salts as the tub fills. Kate just watches him, drinks in the normality of his motions, and when he turns to her she smiles.
He pulls the sneakers off her feet and tucks them behind the door, carefully unzips the hoodie and eases it off her shoulders. His eyes travel the breadth and length of her, anxiously searching for injuries; fortunately the sore spot on her shoulder and the scrapes on her wrists are the worst of it.
The sweatpants go next, and he rolls them up with the hoodie and stows them behind the door as well, then stands as if to lift her off the counter. Kate catches his hands in hers and says, "Now you."
She unbuttons his shirt, unbuckles his belt, unzips his trousers and helps him off with whatever she can reach. By the time they're both naked the tub is full enough and Castle holds her hand to steady her as she steps in, then steps in behind her, reaching to turn off the water.
As one, they sink into the water, sighing at the heat and the scent of it and the comfort of each other. Kate leans back in the cradle of Castle's arms and legs and lets him soap them both up, and after a long soak they stand under the shower for a rinse.
She's sitting on the bed in her robe, twisting her damp hair up out of the way, when she realizes what's missing. She lifts her head to say something, but Castle is already there, kneeling at her feet, putting her watch on the nightstand where it belongs. When he holds up his hand and uncurls his fingers, her ring shines up at her, clean and safe, and he puts it back on her finger and pulls her into his arms.
"It's over," he whispers. "Over. They're dead, both of them."
"You saw him."
"I saw him. Watched him die, Kate."
"Tell me."
Castle knows she's not asking out of mere curiosity; she needs to know, absolutely, what happened. They sit up against the headboard so she can see him as he talks. He gives her a brief outline of what he, Ryan, and Esposito set in motion - she can tell he's leaving some details out, but she'll dig them up later - describes finding the monitor with the video feed on it, his conversation with Tyson, watching as Esposito took Tyson out with a single shot.
"Ryan got an emergency trace on Nieman's number," he concludes. "And - well, you know the rest. We busted in, only to discover you didn't need saving."
He smiles, a little sheepishly, but she's not letting him off the hook just yet. She barely remembers their sudden entry into Nieman's lair, had only faintly registered the touch of Castle's hand on her face. She feels like she didn't really come back to herself until they were out of the building, breathing cool air, his arm firm around her shoulders.
"You didn't kill him," she says, and Castle looks a bit confused.
"No, I didn't," he says. "But he is dead, Kate."
"I believe you. That's not it."
"Then what?"
She tries to find words; she knows he's patient, he'll wait for her, even as he takes her hand in his and studies her face.
"You know I've had to - shoot people, in my line of work," she says haltingly. He just nods, and she goes on, "Had to shoot to kill, once or twice. Had to. But you - "
She looks into his eyes.
"You don't. You didn't. And I'm glad. Javi will be all right, he's had to do it too, he knows how to deal. But - I'm glad you don't, Rick. You shouldn't have to know what that's like, to kill someone."
"I'm glad, too," he says, but his eyes are anything but glad. "That I didn't do it. I would have, if it came to that. But, Kate, I'm sorry that you - "
She buries her face in his shoulder, tears finally spilling, half in grief, half in anger. She doesn't remember killing Nieman. She hopes she never does remember. The memory of standing over the body with blood on her hands is something she hopes will fade with time.
"I'm not sorry she's dead," she chokes out. "It's just - the way it happened. I feel as though it happened to someone else - like I wasn't even there."
"You did what you had to do," says Castle quietly. "They're gone, and we're alive, and we have each other. However that came about, and whatever pain or fear or anger we have to live with - we will live, Kate. We'll always have each other. No matter what."
She pulls back to look at him and feels the slightest hint of a smile in her own cheeks. He looks encouraged -
- and his phone rings.
"Mother!"
