Disclaimer: I do not own Castle.

Author's Note: I've never written anything for Castle before. But, the season finale was begging me to write a follow-up, and so I did. Hope you enjoy it.

Almost

She had never imagined that, with death, there would still be pain.

Perhaps it wasn't death at all though, and her mind began to grasp at the possibilities as she started to come into awareness. Her body felt disconnected, as if she knew it was there, but it was almost numb. She was vaguely aware of noises around her—an incessant beeping that made her want to rip her ears off her head, most notably, as well as the shuffling of feet and faint voices.

Then, she felt a warm grip on her hand, and it was the only pleasant sensation at that moment. It was a struggle to even open her eyes through the haze that clouded her mind, but she managed, though as soon as she did she had to close them, because of the burning white light up above.

She did hear her name, though. "Kate." She opened her eyes again, and this time, her vision was a bit clearer. She could make out a nebulous figure taking up almost the whole of her field of vision, though she couldn't quite discern a face. But, the voice was certainly familiar. "Kate, can you hear me?" It was Castle. She blinked, and his face came into focus. He had a sort of half-smile, half-grimace that stretched his cheeks, and his eyebrows had created a deep groove in his forehead that she suspected had been there for a while.

She tried to speak, but her tongue couldn't form around any words longer than, "Shot?"

Castled nodded, sputtering, his own mouth stumbling over the words as he said, "Yeah, you were, but you're okay now." And she could see that he was hesitant to remove her hand from hers, but he did so as he reached for a cup of ice chips on a side table. Once her mouth wasn't feeling so much like there were cotton balls stuffed inside, she said found that, even though she was able to talk, she was at a loss for words. Before she'd faded from consciousness, there had been such emotional turmoil and confusion going through her.

She began to stir a bit, attempting to rise up from the bed, and the heart rate monitor sped up. Castle placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't get up."

"I'm not—"

He smiled sadly. "You're safe. There's a watch right outside your door. No one can hurt you."

She, albeit reluctantly, settled back into the pillows. "Did they catch whoever did it?" The words came out a bit garbled and slurred, but he was able to get the gist. However, his reaction wasn't too encouraging.

"No, but we will."

His hand had found hers again, and she could feel as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. "And me? What happened?" The numbness was beginning to fade from her body; there was a throbbing pain in her chest, now.

"The doctors said it was a miracle." He shrugged. "I say luck. The bullet—" He nearly choked on the word, it felt so sour in his mouth. "—went through your chest, almost hit your heart—almost."

It then came to her that Josh—whoever he was to her now, she wasn't too sure—was a cardiac surgeon. What if he'd been the one on call? The minute she said his name, Castle's expression darkened. Though, he seemed to know exactly what she was going to ask.

"He knows. He was there when you came in, actually, but he didn't do the surgery. I don't know if he wasn't the first available, or whether he just didn't want to."

And then she surprised him by saying, "It doesn't really matter, now." She caught his eye, held it for a moment, as if to assure him that this was true. Then, she said, "And the others?"

"Your father was here, and everyone else. The doctor said only one person could be in here at once, though, and, well, I was voted to be the one." She wasn't surprised. She preferred it to be Castle over anyone else, anyway; she didn't want to deal with her father's emotions upon waking—it would've been too much to handle. And yet, the emotions that were nearly palpable in the air at that moment were nearly just as bad.

There was silence again, and she could feel his eyes on her, though she stared at the wall. She hated this feeling of helplessness, lying in pain in a hospital bed. But, with Castle there, it made it a bit easier to bear, if she was being honest with herself. And then she was grateful that Castle spoke again, because she didn't know what to say.

What is the right thing to say at a time like that, sitting in a hospital bed with a bullet wound, next to a man whose relationship with her was, frankly, unclear?

"Everyone was so worried," he said, and then, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Even Alexis didn't want to leave. She looks up to you, almost like…" He trailed off. She shifted beneath the sheets, tilting her head to the side.

"Almost like what?"

He shook his head, still grinning. "Nothing."

She wasn't about to press him for more. Perhaps if she had been in better shape she would've, but at the moment, her body was still aching. She decided to press a different matter, though, as she prompted,

"Castle, about what you said..."

He suddenly became nervous; an unusual reaction, and one she hadn't been expecting. "Uh, it was a response to what happened, and—"

She cut him off with a weak shake of her head. "Stop. You were right."

His brows came together, and she could feel his hand tighten around hers. "About what?"

"Everything." She pressed her lips together. "I don't want my life to be like this forever—waiting for something to change. Because I realized that what I need is—"

The knock on the door had impeccable timing. It swung open, and Castle groaned inwardly, and she hung her head in exasperation. Of course, they would be interrupted at such a time, after both of them had seemed to at last work up the courage to say how they felt.

The doctor, ignorant to what he'd just walked in on, grinned and said, "Hello, Detective. I'm glad to see you're awake!"

She, though, said nothing as the doctor milled about, checking her vitals. Castle noted that she had paled the slightest bit, most likely merely from the exertion of speaking to him.

"I think you'll be allowed more visitors now," said the doctor, heading from the door. "Make sure you don't overstress yourself, though, alright?"

Once he had left, Castle grasped onto her hand more firmly, as if to enhance his words. "We don't have to talk about anything right now. There's time for that. But now," he said, and stood, dropping her hand half-heartedly, "I think it's everyone else's turn to worry over you." There it was—the flash of a smile, and she nodded. He added, more softly, "I'll be right back."

Castle waited at the door as the others flooded in, and their questions floated about the room, asking her how she felt, among others. He was content to watch, because he knew that, though the troubles that had caused this incident were not nearly over, he would have his time with her again. And, he thought, that perhaps that bullet brought more than pain, but an opportunity that wouldn't have come around without it. He was grateful for that.

He caught her eye as she peered over her father's shoulder. Despite the few words they'd shared and the lack of clarification on the stipulations of their feelings for each other, he could see it in her eyes. And he could feel it, deep down in his stomach. If he had ever been so sure of something, it was this. She didn't need to say the words to him; it was written all over her face.