AN: This is a collection of independent stories based on what-if scenarios to count all the ways that Castle could... should?... have been hurt, or worse. Enjoy!

4x01

Could Ryan and Esposito be worse liars?

"You, too, Beckett!" Gates' voice carried through the precinct, making the detective want to let curses fly. It was as if Gates had known exactly where they were and what they were doing, and it was decided right then that Gates was a bloodhound. As much as Beckett wanted to disregard the order given, this was her job. Without it, catching her mother's killer would be next to impossible. Well, worse than it was now, anyway, because it already felt like it was possible despite the fact that she felt like they were on to something. Something big.

Moving, she pressed the file into Castle's chest. "Hide this," she whispered harshly. Guard it with your life was implied. Yes, she felt like she was on to something. She wanted to crack the case wide open and find justice and peace. She had waited so long for it, and she was done waiting. It was hard to believe that there was a time when she was prepared to let it go, just before Castle had entered her life and brought it all up again; started her on the path. Even she had to admit, where they were now, none of it would be possible without him. So, yes, she wanted him to hide the file down the front of his pants if he had to, because she was this close. She could feel it in her bones.

Castle obeyed, without question. It was decided a long time ago that he would do anything Katherine Beckett would ask of him. He'd follow her into Hell, all the while believing they would come out on the other side all the better for it. His positive attitude was a pillar for Beckett.

They suited up. Castle donned his WRITER bulletproof vest as he moved Beckett's crown vic. The corner of Beckett's mouth twitched upward as she watched him, fluid in his movements, not unlike that of a cop, racing towards their 100th crime scene. It was so natural for him, and somehow, deep inside, there was a spot of guilt, because this wasn't his job. Castle wasn't the cop, she was, and every time she dragged him to a scene, or a takedown like right now, she was putting his life in danger along with hers.

Sirens going, they arrived at the band's rehearsal garage, car tires screeching to a halt. Their target, one Dale Landers, boyfriend of their victim.

They exited their cars, lights still flashing, guns drawn, locked and loaded. Moving to the entrance, Esposito paused the group long enough to share a concern, but not in the obvious sort of way. "Hey… you ready for this?" he asked, eyes intense and serious.

Beckett looked at him, feeling almost insulted at the implication, and yet touched by the concern at the same time. Still, she was Kate Beckett, and he knew her better than this. "You're kidding, right?" came her response. It was almost a reflex. She didn't sit on the sidelines, ever. She wasn't Castle. This was her job. She was made for this, and she wasn't about to be left behind.

If Esposito didn't believe her, he kept quiet about it. It was obvious the whole group had misgivings about Beckett being back in the saddle so soon, but, they moved on. "Okay, but we got point."

Beckett tried not to roll her eyes with her impatience. "Okay, let's go," she almost hissed at him, and moved in behind him, and Castle behind her. They came to another door where they could hear voices coming from the other side.

Ryan kicked the door in and they all moved in as one. A flurry of "NYPD!" and "Let me see your hands right now!" came forth. The two men inside the rehearsal studio were shocked, but Dale quickly reacted. Knowing they were there for him, he turned and ran. Beckett didn't even think. Instinct took over and she chased him to the back of the garage.

"STOP!" she shouted after him, as Ryan and Esposito took down the second person in the room.

The second Beckett took off after him, Castle was moving, too. Granted, she was a much faster runner than he was, even in those flipping heels of hers, but as she always pointed out to him, she was the cop, not him. The writer bypassed the two detectives as they watched Beckett disappear, and they watched Castle go after her. The distraction was all their suspect needed to wrestle free and run in the opposite direction, forcing the two detectives to give chase.

Beckett came up behind Dale as he fought with the doorknob. She felt a moment of victory because it was locked and there was nowhere for him to go. When he turned, all she could see was the glint of silver from his revolver, and it was like her chest was on fire again. Nothing had even happened, but it felt like it had happened all over again. She was frozen, a deer in the headlights. Maybe if she stood still, she wouldn't feel that explosion of pain in her chest again. She had stared down the barrel of many guns before, but this was different.

Dale looked around wildly for an escape route. The gun shook in his hand as the gun shook in Beckett's. "BECKETT!" Castle shouted, coming around the corner. What he saw made him come to a halt, panting for air and not because of the short burst of speed he had just used up. The gun that had been trained on his partner shifted. It was the noise that struck him first. It was loud and obnoxious in the echo of the garage. He couldn't think anymore of it when pain exploded through his body and he fell backwards, the room moving around him in a whirlwind.

Another shot rang out just as he hit the cement floor with a resounding thud, his head bouncing on it upon impact. Everything was blurry, and he tried to look, dared to hope, that Beckett wasn't going to be lying beside him in a pool of her own blood.

She had pulled the trigger, neutralized the suspect. Instinct had taken over again, because Oh God, Castle. She didn't kill Landers, thank God, but before she went to check on her partner, her own personal lifeline, there was duty and protocol. She kicked the revolver away to a safe distance and cuffed the man, who cried out in agony at the bullet in his shoulder.

Ironically, it was the same place he had shot Castle, she noticed, after rushing to her prone partner and dropping to her knees next to him. "Castle!" she cried, running her hand through his hair, keeping him in the present with her. He gasped sharply when she pressed her hand down upon his shoulder. "Sorry!" His head lulled from side to side, bordering delirium from the pain. "Castle, stay with me. Stay awake." The writer mumbled something incoherent in response, but she took it to mean that he was going to try.

She radioed for help, smearing Castle's blood all over the compact device. "Shit!" she slammed the radio down onto the ground and looked down at her partner. First responders were approximately fifteen minutes away due to a highrise fire. "Still with me, partner?" She got herself comfortable on the floor and pulled Castle's head onto her lap, making him slightly more comfortable.

"Yeah," he answered a second later. "Hurts a lot more than they make it out to be in the movies…"

Beckett chuckled. "I know." She suddenly went serious as she looked down at his anguished face. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

"Hey… n-not your fault, okay? You're not the one who pulled the trigger."

"Exactly," she whispered, combing her free hand through his hair. It was soothing them both. "If I had just… If I didn't…" she grit her teeth and looked at Dale.

"BECKETT!" came from somewhere in the garage.

"Here!" she called back. "Castle's hit!"

Esposito came around the corner and knelt down next to them. "You okay?" he asked Beckett.

She nodded at him. "I've got Castle. Could you…" she trailed off and looked at the suspect. Esposito nodded and headed towards him.

"I love how he talks to you… like I'm not even here," Castle murmured, but loud enough for Esposito to hear. "I'm fine, by the way!"

"Castle, you're not fine," she said gently and looked at the blood oozing out from between her fingers. "I think maybe an artery was hit, but I don't know. Espo, I don't think we should wait for the paramedics."

Esposito nodded his head, and using his strength, pulled Dale to his feet. "Hey, I'm dying here. She shot me," Dale cried out.

"You're not dying, but boy do I wish you were." Esposito pulled Dale towards the entrance. "I'll send Ryan back to help with Castle. Hang in there, man," he said as they passed the two by.

"Castle, can you stand?" Beckett asked.

"I think, maybe, yeah."

It was good enough for her. She could have him to the hospital before the ambulance even arrived on scene. She slipped out from under him, and worked a delicate operation to get him standing. "Whoa," he said.

"What?"

"The room is spinning."

"Okay, okay. Just lean on me. I've got you. I promise." They met Ryan halfway outside, and he helped get Castle into the back seat of her squad car. "Meet you there," she said to the boys. Tilting her rearview mirror just right so she could see Castle lying there, getting his blood all over her backseat, she put the car in drive and sped off with her sirens blaring.

The good news was, Castle was going to be fine. Beckett entered the hospital room that only his money could buy him and sat down next to him on the bed. His arm was in a sling, a darker blue than his eyes, she noted. Mindful of the IV drip, she took his hand in hers and gently stroked the skin with the pad of her thumb. He stirred, and smiled when he saw her. "Hey, Castle."

"Hi," he responded, becoming a willing participant and holding her hand in return.

"You're getting out of here in a couple of days."

"Alexis and mother told me this morning," he nodded.

Alexis. Martha. Guilt welled up inside her and she swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm so sorry," she repeated from before.

"What happened in there?" he asked. Castle wasn't angry at all, but he was genuinely curious, and anxious to help if he could.

"I… froze. I thought I was ready, but when he had that gun on me… I just… I was so scared." She almost tripped up, almost told him she remembered the pain she had felt, a memory that wasn't going to leave her any time soon. "I thought, this is the end. And then… you," she gestured to his shoulder and her eyes began to sting.

"It's not your fault. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She cracked a smile. "I like it."