Close Encounters 22: Win, Lose, or Die
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.
-'A Farewell to Arms', Ernest Hemingway
for sailsafe
and everyone who can't get enough
and of course jessie
whose idea this was - blame her
previously on Spy...
There was a burst of noise on the mic and a groan from his wife.
And then Kate collapsed.
Castle took the shot.
The shot was instinctive.
The woman's ivory coat starburst with bright red, a moment of surreal blood bloom. The earth halted to a stop. Someone screamed.
There was panic, but Castle was already thundering across the roof.
"Kate!" he called in to the mic. He flung open the access door, jumped the first flight, landed hard on his feet, pivoted, jumped the next flight. "Kate. Kate, baby, talk to me. Kate. Beckett, talk to me."
"I'm circling around," his father said tersely over the line.
"Fuck. Kate. Kate, talk to me. I need you to say something-"
"Shut the fuck up, Richard. It's an open line and someone's called the police."
He could hear them then, angry, wailing police sirens.
He had to get to his wife.
He'd shot Jolin. He'd shot the woman and Kate was unresponsive in Luxembourg Garden.
The rain was pouring.
Castle burst out of the stairwell door to the outside exit, vaulted over a movable metal barrier, ate up the long open distance to the benches before the pool. People were streaming the opposite direction, away, someone was over Jolin and pressing a jacket to the gaping wounds in her legs - it was a man - blanched face, shaking hands. Not a professional then, but a bystander.
Jolin hadn't brought back-up; she'd been alone.
Kate was a dark huddle below the bench.
Castle raced to his wife, falling to his knees before her, his hands ripping down the jacket's zipper even as he checked her breathing, looked for blood. "Kate," he hissed. "Kate, come on. Come on, don't do this."
No blood.
There was no blood.
"Someone shot - someone shot them," the man was choking out. Castle didn't turn to look, fingers pressing at Kate's neck for her pulse, her skin slippery with rain. It fell in his eyes, burning.
"Kate." He fumbled his other hand under her jacket and roughly patted her down, searching, his own heart throbbing in his fingertips. "Kate? Kate, what's wrong? Come on, baby, come on."
No entry wounds. No blood. But her pulse was weak, a mad thump and then a few breaths of nothing before he felt it again. Maybe it was him, just him, maybe it was the rain and his cold fingers-
"What's going on? Why is someone shooting-"
Castle jerked his head up. "Shut the fuck up," he snarled. It might have been in English; he didn't know. His fingers were cradling the back of Kate's neck, his other hand still skimming over her body searching for a gunshot, a knife wound, something that made sense. "Kate. Kate, come on. Wake up."
In his ear, he realized his father was urgently giving commands. "Richard, I'm at the southeast entrance. You've got local police heading your way."
"Something's happened to Beckett," he snapped. There was no blood, no entry wound, nothing should be wrong with her. Nothing should be wrong.
"You need to get out of there."
"Thank God, police are coming," the man said. "I'm going to wave them over-"
Her pulse was weak under his fingers, the rain was dripping in his eyes. His father was on the radio, yelling in his ear, but it didn't make sense. "Something's wrong-"
"Richard. Grab your wife and get the hell out."
Out? She was - this wasn't right. He cupped the side of her face and checked her pupils, normal reaction, pressed his fingers to her pulse again.
Not right. Not good. Wasn't right. Her skin was deathly cold, the mist on her eyelashes, her breath sounds so faint that it scared him. Kate.
"She's going into shock," Castle rasped. "There's something really wrong."
"They're over here!" Shouting. The good samaritan heading back to them, running police, weapons being drawn.
"Richard, right now. You need to move. You have to move."
Castle glanced up, saw the men coming this way, and he had to move. He scooped Kate into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest, and he rocked forward onto his feet. She was lifeless, her body heavy with rain and unconsciousness, and he struggled to move quickly, not sure he should, certain he must.
Had to get her out of here. Get her safe.
He began to jog, slogging through mud, trying to keep to the bare cover of the perfectly-sculpted park trees. The police were behind him, not far, shouting, there was the slap of his feet through mud puddles, the drag of her body against him, the strain of his muscles, the cold settling in.
"Over there!"
Fuck. He had to run, a jog wasn't going to cut it, he had to be better than this.
Kate's face was pressed against his shoulder, but he couldn't spare the time to look down and check on her. He could hear the sirens, the sound of the police in their heavy boots searching for him, and soon there would be mounted police on motorbikes as well, able to make chase.
"Richard."
"Where are you?" he panted into the mic.
"In the green van. I have you on my screen. Head towards your two o'clock. Pick up the pace or you won't make it."
Castle pushed himself, his muscles feeling the strain, legs burning. Kate was deadweight, so heavy like this. He had to keep putting a knee into her back to keep her from slipping right out of his arms, the rain making it almost impossible to hang on to her.
"Veer right, straight shot," his father said over the channel. "Faster, Richard. What the hell is wrong with you? You have to go faster."
His breath was ragged now, his lungs burning, drowning in rain.
He saw the van through the wrought-iron fence surrounding the park, saw it idling at the curb. The door swung open in the back, his father scanning the block, eagle-eyed.
Behind him, he heard the shout of discovery, the police after him. Then stop, stop, police! He was killing himself here, but he had to run faster, had to be fucking faster than this.
Black was gesturing, perched in the back of the van, that cold fury in his ruined face and Castle sprinted for the park entrance. He barreled between a couple of joggers, heading for the open door of the van.
His lungs were burning, his arms were burning. He had to make it.
Black held out his arms for Kate.
"Fuck," Castle gasped. "No." Wasn't leaving her alone with Black. She needed help. Immediate help.
Momentum had Castle falling against the side of the van next to the open door, Kate still in his arms, and he lifted a booted foot to the running board, supporting her weight.
"Richard-"
"You drive. Get up there. Now. Go, go, go."
Black shot him a dark look but he scrambled inelegantly forward. There was no way in hell he was leaving Black in the back with his wife. He pushed Kate inside the van and crawled in after her, the vehicle already rocketing forward. He torqued, half on his side on the floor, and he caught the still-open door with his foot, kicked it shut just as the police hit the park exit.
Sirens were already starting up again, heading to cut them off.
"Go, go," he yelled to his father, trying to push himself up. He glanced out the back doors.
Police were coming after them, the cars screaming down the street, pedestrians jumping out of the way, staring, and the van skidded hard around a block, knocking Castle against the back of the front seat.
He got to his knees before Kate and cradled her neck, checked her pulse again.
Thready, weak. She was slick with sweat despite the temperature, but her skin was clammy and tight.
God, it wasn't good. Not good.
Sirens behind them.
"Hold on!" Black shouted.
They surged through a red light and raced forward, over a dip in the road that knocked him off his knees. Castle slammed into the van door, smashing his head hard against the metal, watched helplessly as Kate rolled hard, neck twisting. He groaned and crawled back to her, but he saw, suddenly, through the pulse of pain in his head, that his father had stowed a first aid kit.
He needed to stabilize her neck.
He jerked the kit out of the restraints, ripping it from the velcro and throwing off the lid. He found surgical tape and improvised a backboard with a length of PVC pipe from the rack of surveillance equipment, making sure her neck was still. He couldn't do much about the way the van was dodging the police.
"Richard."
"Shut up," he shouted. He hunched over Kate and checked her pupils, but they were still reactive to the flash of light coming through the front windshield. "Kate. Kate, God, what's wrong, what's happened?"
He checked her pulse again, closing his eyes to concentrate, time it. Rate was dropping. Her heart was beating in clusters, a handful at a time, long pauses in between. Not good. Fuck. Something had happened, something had to have happened to her.
"We need a hospital," he called towards the front. "We have to lose these guys and take her to a hospital."
"We can't do that."
"Don't fuck with me," Castle snarled, his voice breaking. "I will shoot you and drive myself. Head for the hospital."
"You just shot a woman in a park, Richard. And then abducted her companion. It's all over the radio, along with eyewitness accounts of her color and build - a sketch is being transmitted of your face."
"I don't care. She needs a hospital. It doesn't matter what-"
"It does. It matters. You think the Collective are going to take this lying down? You shot her."
"Do you think I care?" he shouted. "Turn into a fucking hospital or you die. Do you understand me? I don't care about anything if she dies."
"We can't do that. Let me-"
"This isn't a discussion," Castle roared. He reached behind him for Kate's weapon and froze. It was gone. The piece she'd given him was gone. Fuck, fuck, he'd had it loose in his waistband, stupid fucking rookie movie, but the sniper rifle was here somewhere. Had to be.
Black jerked the van into a dark alley and gunned the engine, turned again into a parking garage and then stopped behind another car. Outside on the street they'd vacated, four police cars screamed by while they were idle, quiet.
Black started the van once more and crept forward, angling towards the exit of the parking garage.
Castle groaned. The sniper rifle was back on that damn rooftop and he'd left his own gun at the bed and breakfast.
He had no weapons.
Black knew it, didn't he? Castle nudged the van deeper into the parking garage instead of exiting, and they rolled slowly into a space.
"What are you doing?" Castle rasped, hunched over his wife. "She needs a hospital. She needs a hospital."
Black killed the engine. "If you dump her at a hospital and they run tests on her - what do you think they're going to find?"
Castle stared down at Kate, her bloodless lips, the fringe of blue in her cheeks. "I don't care-"
"They'll find those pills she's been taking, the altered chemistry. They'll make official reports and those reports will get back to the Collective and she will be dead. Or worse - in their hands."
"But she's not like me," Castle rasped. "She's not like me - it doesn't do to her what it does to me. She's not any good to them. The regimen doesn't work for her."
"God damn it," Black said. "She's on the regimen."
"I fucking know that," Castle shouted. "What the hell-?"
"It's the regimen," Black said. "She's still on it, isn't she? I know she is, don't look at me like that. Is she nursing? Richard. Is she nursing him?"
Nursing? He wanted to smash his fist into Black's face. "That's none of your fucking business."
Suddenly his father was crawling over the seat and into the back with him, knocking him on his ass with a shove. "It's the regimen, you damn idiot. It's a fucking balancing act, and if she's nursing or not nursing it matters. What is she taking? Richard. Tell me exactly what she's taking, how much."
"The pills. It's just the pills, the supplements. The nursing took all the nutrients out of her body and she broke her foot, calcium leached out of her bones, you don't understand-"
Black turned to him with a snarl. "Richard, focus. It's the pills. I've seen it before. Tell me exactly what her levels are."
Her levels. "She was breaking her bones. She had to-"
"When the boy was a newborn. Right? That's when it happened, that's when it was bad, when he was nursing every few hours, am I right? But not now. You've been with me for three days. Not with the boy."
What did that have to do with anything?
"Richard, listen. The boy has had none of this. If she's been taking those pills like he's been feeding every two hours, but he hasn't been-"
"What are you talking about?" Castle roared, gripping his father hard by his shirt.
Black shoved him back. "Mineral toxicity. Toxicity, Richard. I've seen this before. She's crashing, she's crashing, and you have to tell me right now exactly what she's taking so we can save her life."
The parking garage held one orange bulb midway down the row; it threw a harsh light over Black and made the ruined side of his face into a garish, stiff mask.
"What are you doing to her?" Castle rasped.
He'd been pushed out of the way when Black had climbed into the back, and he watched like a hawk as his father hunched over his wife. Black moved to the buttons of her shirt, and Castle growled and jerked forward, knocking his father away from her.
"I said, what the fuck are you-"
"Let me examine her. I need to know how far it's progressed."
"Examine her? Like hell-"
"Either I examine her, and I fix this, or she dies."
Castle paled and sank back on his haunches. Dies.
Black flicked his fingers over the buttons but it was such slow-going that his father gave up and just yanked. Castle flinched as the buttons were ripped off, his guts churning at seeing his father's hands close to her skin.
God, he was going to doing something very very stupid if Black touched her.
But Black was leaning over and listening to her breath sounds, hands hovering, and Castle clenched his fists, forced air into his lungs. Or she dies, or she dies- Then his father moved to put his ear at her heart and he lost it.
He yanked his father off of her, an arm strangling the man's neck. "Get the fuck off of her. You don't touch-"
"You violent, undisciplined ass. You know what first aid looks like - damn it, Richard - you're choking me. You're choking - Richard, she's going to die."
Black jabbed his elbow into Castle's cheek and Castle groaned, falling back, knocking his head into the metal panel of the van. Stunned, head swimming, he missed the moment his father went back to Kate, instead found himself watching numbly as Black's hands palpated her abdomen. The strong hand over the weak, Black probed above her belly button, and then below.
Below.
Below the waist-
Castle groaned and shifted forward, his face hot, but Black turned savagely on him. "You think I want her alive? I don't. I don't. But if she doesn't live, then I don't either. Then you don't either. And that boy? That boy is lost."
Castle sat down hard on his ass, panting. "Don't - don't let her die," he rasped. "Don't-"
"I am trying to fucking assess her condition. Now sit there and shut up."
Castle stared, his chest so tight he was going to cry.
And then Kate began to seize. Her body jerked once violently, a tremor running through her right arm, a terrible sound coming out of her chest, her neck arching, and then the seizure had her.
"What - what's going on? Why is she having a seizure-"
"Hold her," Black said sharply. "Hold her head. Don't let her bite her tongue."
Castle crawled up, curled an arm under her chin and managed to get his fingers pressed on her teeth to keep her from clamping down. Black was rummaging through the first aid kit; he pulled out tubing.
Tubing.
"What are you doing?" he rasped. Kate's seizure fell off abruptly, her body listless and blanched against the van floor. Her skin was like ice. "What's the tubing, Black, what are you-"
"We need to treat the toxicity. A solution of sodium bicarbonate. I can get the materials. But I need you to drive."
"Drive," he rasped. Leave her back here with Black?
"Drive. I need materials to do this."
"Do - do what?"
"She has an iron toxicity. Do you hear me? Iron toxicity from those pills. Among - probably - other toxic levels. But that at least is something I can do right now."
"From the pills," he rasped. "But she needed them. I don't understand." He'd seen the levels. He'd seen his son, starving and skinny and too weak to cry for them.
"No. She didn't need them - the boy needed them. And if she's not breastfeeding him every two hours, Richard, then she is getting too much."
Castle croaked a protest, but he knew he had to get past the intimacy of his father discussing his wife's nursing. He had to. He had to explain in better detail; everything had to be made clear. "But James is still breastfed. He hasn't been weaned yet. We don't want her taking the supplements, but-"
"You're not listening to me. You've told me how many milligrams, and I'm telling you that's entirely too much for a woman of her size. The calcium alone would give her kidney stones, but the iron-"
Castle winced. "She said - ah, fuck. Fuck. She said once she had some pain, but then she never..."
Black gave him a long look, completely unimpressed.
He had dropped the ball. She'd had warning signs and Castle had completely dropped the ball.
God, damn it. He had done this.
"What do we do," he rasped. "Tell me what you need."
"We switch cars here. I need a pharmacy. You need to drive so I can keep her stable, monitor her heart rate."
Castle reached out, fingers caught in her mud-caked hair, his throat closing up.
"Richard. We need a new vehicle. Hurry."
He got out of the van.
Hunting through the parking garage, Castle selected an older vehicle, a squatty Fiat with a hatchback, entirely too small for the three of them, but the seat could be laid down and the windows were tinted. Not as dark as he might like, but enough to obscure the backseat passengers - Castle wasn't interested in wasting time looking for something better.
It was a matter of thirty seconds to get inside and hotwire the car, the engine running. He went back to the green van where the sliding back door was still open, his father hunched over Beckett like a carrion bird, shuffling side to side suspiciously.
Castle swallowed back the urge to throw Black off, slam him into the metal side of the van. He needed Black, fuck it all; he needed this man. What Castle knew about complications from the regimen could fill a thimble, what Black knew could save Kate's life.
"Two rows down," Castle said, interrupting Black's study of his wife's prone body. Black glanced up at him and nodded, seemed to be ignoring the waves of hostility that Castle couldn't help aiming his direction.
"We should be on our way," Black said, waving a hand towards Kate.
Castle came in close and gingerly scooped his wife into his arms, cradled her as close as he could get. He was appalled at how his biceps were quivering.
Apparently, so was his father.
"You should be better than that," Black said, nodding to the obvious stutter of muscle as he held an unconscious Kate.
Castle ignored Black and carried Beckett from the van to the little Fiat, laid her out on the folded down backseat - it was harder than it should have been. She had at least stopped convulsing, but her breath sounds were bad, sounded like her lungs were laboring. Black opened the other passenger door and climbed awkwardly onto the backseat beside her.
Castle didn't like that, but they had no choice.
He pushed the first aid kit inside after them, and then he hurried back to the van and grabbed the mobile equipment, set it on the floor of the parking garage. He used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe down the van, door handles and window and side mirrors, the side of the van where he'd fallen, the inside where he had crouched over her.
His hands were shaking and it wasn't just exhaustion but anxiety. He didn't like leaving Kate alone with his father, a man who was just looking for a chance to hurt her. But he had no choice, there were things that had to be done to safeguard them all, and ditching the van, grabbing the equipment was one of those things.
He hurried back to the Fiat, shoved the equipment in the floorboard of the front passenger seat, and then dragged himself behind the wheel. His knees hit the steering column with a painful smack, and he adjusted the seat back, something like cold fear and adrenaline knotting in his guts.
He should never have fucked around with the regimen. He should have just taken it. Just taken the fucking pills and the shots, just shut his fucking mouth and done it.
She'd told him. She had told him, repeatedly, that it made her nervous when he fucked around with it, and he had arrogantly dismissed her claims, told himself he could handle it.
Sure, he could fucking handle it, but was he at all mission ready? No. The plain truth of it was - no, he was failing her at every turn.
He glanced behind him to check the parking garage's exit, and he could see in the backseat where his father hovered over his wife. He'd already pulled out the breathing mask and was giving her oxygen. It was a small canister, so small, and they had to get to a pharmacy.
Castle swallowed down that gut-eating fear and backed out of the parking space, the engine purring like a predatory cat. He kept his urgency in check and pushed himself towards self-control, discipline, calmly steering the Fiat to the exit.
He could do this; he had to do this.
When he got out onto the street, he saw blue lights in the rear view mirror back by the park, and he pointed them away, angled down a different street, taking care to go the speed limit.
He squeezed the steering wheel. "How is she?"
"Not good. Keep driving."
Castle grit his teeth and focused on the street, on getting Beckett what she needed, on the outcome he wanted. Visualize the positive outcome. See the end.
They had beaten worse. They had been up against governments and terrorists and his own damn father, against wolves and fire and nuclear material; they had overcome.
"Oh, shit."
Castle grunted and lifted his eyes to the rear view mirror, saw his father doing chest compressions.
"Oh, God," he cried. "Please don't-"
"Pull - pull over and help. Can't keep this up. Richard. I don't have the strength-"
Castle jerked immediately into a parallel parking spot, crunching the bumper of the parked car in front of him and vaulting over the seats and into the back. He took over chest compressions; his father moved against the door, obviously just fine.
Castle folded one hand over the other, pumped down against her sternum. Sweat burned into his eyes, or tears, and he stared down at Kate's white, mud-streaked face. "Come on, baby. Come on, Kate. Come on."
Forceful, fast compressions, his hands leaving her chest just barely with each lift. He couldn't look at Black, couldn't take his eyes off any possible flicker in her face. He didn't think about how he could be breaking her ribs, didn't analyze his father's call for 'help' when he was clearly fine.
"Drive," he growled to his father. "Hospital. We have to-"
"Hold on. Let me try something."
Castle glanced up and saw his father in the first aid kit. "Her heart needs defib-"
Black pulled a package from the kit and ripped the paper off of a long, thick needle.
Castle's hands stuttered and he jerked his attention back to Kate, to the chest compressions, counting in his head - but he was afraid. "What is that, what do you think you're doing?"
"Atropine. All I got. Intracardiac injection. It's all we can do, Richard."
"No. She could hemorrhage. This isn't-"
"I don't have adrenaline. If we don't do this-"
"Atropine only causes a faster heart rate; it won't restart her heart."
"Let's hope her heart still beats."
Fuck, fuck. He couldn't fall apart. He couldn't. Think.
"This is our only option - this is her only option, Richard."
He was being rushed; he was being conned somehow. This couldn't be right.
"Move aside, damn it. If she dies, everything is ruined. Let me do this."
Castle felt her chest under his palms, the vulnerable arch of her ribs, the clammy touch of her skin. God, mud was caked in her hair from when she'd collapsed below the bench, and her lids were nearly translucent with whatever terrible toxicity had brought her down.
"Richard."
He kept up compressions, unable to decide, unable to stop.
"Richard. Move aside."
He glanced up and saw the needle. It wasn't emergency room procedure; no one did that any more. Epinephrine could be put into a vein, given by IV; this wasn't good. This wasn't a good idea.
But it wasn't like they could start an IV.
"Her heart needs a kickstart until I can get the sodium bicarb in her. There is no other option, Richard. Move aside."
Castle swallowed hard, but he removed his hands; he dropped back. The seat of the Fiat was cramped with the three of them, even folded down flat, and for one terrible moment, Kate was completely alone, untouched, and she looked like death.
But his father moved fast, slid a palm over Kate's side, at her ribs, fingering the intercostal space under the band of her bra.
Castle was shaking.
Black pushed aside Kate's bra - fuck, when had Black unclasped the back? - and then his father swiped the bare skin with an antiseptic pad.
Castle sucked in a harsh breath and then Black plunged the needle into her heart.