summary: AU: post-knockout, pre-rise. probably should have posted this weeks ago, but alas it was hidden away on my hard drive. title from the song by sam cooke.

rating: pretty safe for the kiddos

disclaimer: not mine. fun to play with, though :)

"I'm not leaving, Castle."

Castle sighed, rubbing his hand over a week's worth of beard. "Beckett –"

"You all think you know what's best for me, but you don't," she replied, eyes steely. He noted a slightly manic edge to her glare that hadn't been there before she woke up from the medically-induced coma last week. Even during the worst of her obsession (after a week of staring at her unconscious body, he had hit a certain point of clarity and could now admit that "obsession" is exactly what it was), her eyes had been resolute. Clear. Now they had a clouded and unhinged quality that gave him pause.

"Fine, Beckett. I really don't have the energy to argue with you right now. If you want to stay in New York, stay. If you want to go, go. You're going to do exactly what you please anyway."

Her mouth opened. Closed again. She looked around the room, wild-eyed, searching for an alternate strategy. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting him to give up.

He sighed. Despite everything that had happened, she was still Beckett. She was still fiercely independent, still had to be in charge of her own life. For better or for worse, she would always need to face life head-on.

Still, he couldn't resist needling her. Even if she was in a hospital bed.

"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," he added after she had finally stilled. "Reporters, photographers… they're going to be everywhere. You haven't seen it since you've been in here."

Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry – what?"

"It's become quite the human interest piece. 'Real-Life Nikki Heat Shot in Line of Duty, Clings to Life.' I can't even count the number of interview requests I've turned down since you've been in here," he paused, knowing that the next part will get her. Despite Kate Beckett's many flaws, she is fiercely protective of her family. "We get mobbed coming in and out of the hospital."

"We?"

"Me, my mother and Alexis, your father, Ryan, and Lanie and Esposito. And anyone who looks vaguely NYPD," he replied.

"They have no right."

She looked shocked. Disgusted.

Good.

He paused, listening to the muffled voices out in the hospital corridor. "I could get you a security detail, but I know you won't accept it. That's why your father and Lanie want you to leave the city for a while. Not because they think you can't handle it."

"And you?"

"I… want you to do whatever you think will be best,"

She huffed, glaring at him. "That's a cop-out Castle, and you know it."

"Fine. You want the truth? I want you as far away from this city as you can get for a while. Until things calm down. Until you heal," he looked at the nondescript hospital wallpaper, at the corner-mounted TV, at anything other than Beckett. "But I know you won't do that, and I'll support whatever decision you make. Even if I hate it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beckett blinking rapidly – great, he'd made her cry. He reached for her hand, brushing his thumb along her knuckles in a gesture that had become familiar over the past week. He steadfastly avoided looking at her – she couldn't stand anyone seeing her cry, and it seemed that she cried all of the time lately. The littlest things would set her off – if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it possible. Her doctors said it would pass, that it was just the medication. He wasn't so sure.

She tucked her hair behind her ears using her free hand, sniffed slightly, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry – "

"Don't, Kate. Don't be sorry. I just want you to think about what this really means. The fight will still be there. We will still be here."

She nodded, looking down at their joined hands, squeezing his slightly.

"Can I tell you something?" she began, her voice small. "I don't want you to say anything, I just need to say it."

He nodded, brought his hand to his mouth and mimed throwing away a key. "Always."

"I hate how people look at me, as if I'm some creature to be pitied. I hate needing help," she blurted, her voice rising slightly. He could see how the anger was brewing just below the surface, her thoughts slightly jumbled compared to their usual clarity. He wasn't used to this new Beckett, but he was working hard to learn her.

Beckett brushed tears away, clearly irritated by their presence. "I don't know if I can be anywhere else right now, Castle. Being with all of you is hard, but it's not as hard as having to explain this to strangers. They'll never know. I don't want them to. But, you… you know me. And you were there," she finished, her voice breaking slightly as she punctuated the last word.

Minutes passed. She looked up at him, expectantly. "You going to leave me hanging here, Mr. Castle?"

His eyes widened. "You told me not to say anything!"

She laughed, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Her lips now upturned into a smile for the second or third time in the past week. "Thanks, Castle."

He smiled. Brought her hand to his lips. "Anytime, KB. I'm here, remember?"

She smiled back, her eyes slightly brighter. For the first time since she'd awakened, he saw hints of his partner shining through, felt a new sort of hope.

"Yes. Yes, you are."