Hospitals always made her anxious. Experience had taught her that, on average, more patients tended to come in alive and leave dead than those who came in dead and left alive.
Today her heart rate quickened for another reason.
Quietly, she slid the glass door to his private room open. She braced herself for what he might look like. He looked...pretty good actually. He looked...peaceful. There were no tubes and he wasn't hooked up to any machines. That was good right? Or really, really bad. An uninvited, irrational panic took hold of her.
She took a few steps closer, bent down and peered at his chest. With relief, she noted it was rising and falling of its own volition. Not dead. Excellent.
As she straightened up from her stupor, a nurse bustled in to the room. She explained that he was heavily sedated in an effort to help him sleep through the worst of the pain – cracked ribs, facial bruising and some superficial lacerations. Nothing bad enough or permanent enough to "take away the pretty", she believed were the nurses exact words.
She thanked the nurse and willed herself to be calm. She made her way to his bedside, pulled up a chair and sat. Sat and looked. Looked and thought. Thought and felt.
She sat watching him, aware of the hole in her stomach, where nothing was. Air rushed through her. The Earth silently continued its rotation
After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a minute or two, she found her voice.
"Hey, Castle," she said with a modicum of false cheer and just a hint of sadness.
She waited to see if he'd rouse from his rested state.
He didn't, so she continued.
"I know things have been different lately. I get that you're restless. I get that you're mad at me." She took a deep breath, down into the hollowed pit of her stomach. Emotion was not her strong suit.
So she steeled herself. "But seriously, Castle? This was dumb even for you. Police work is not a game. Your life is not a game! Partners don't just abandon each other when..."
Another deep breath helped keep the defensive anger at bay.
"The thing is..."
She halted, a slight crack appearing in her bravado.
"The thing is..."
Forcing herself to go on, she continued in a near whisper, "I miss my partner."
She absently traced her thumb across a graze on his forehead.
Another deep breath.
"I miss you Castle."
She hurriedly swiped a rogue tear away from her cheek, annoyed that she'd let the little bugger escape.
Gently she took the hand, which lay at his side. It was his hand, not part of some random detached limb. An audible exhale of breath.
"I want to fix it Castle."
She stared blindly at their hands, melded together. Slowly she raised her eyes to his face.
"I want my partner back. I want you back."
After a moment, she released his hand and stood. Stood and felt. Felt more than she was comfortable feeling – regret, pain, sorrow and, against all better judgment, a flutter of hope.
She took a moment to compose herself, then strode with purpose to the door, armour reinstated.
She did not look back.
As she slid the door open, Castle gingerly turned his head, opened his eyes and watched her go.