Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't
NB: Still writing this so, the updates won't be daily, sorry.
Collaboration
OOOOO
He processed their silence and seemed to realize it wasn't of acceptance or preoccupation.
"You don't know how close you are to requiring surgery Mr. Castle. If these bones hadn't been relatively in place, or the breaks had been any more compounded, you would be in surgery now. Trust me when I say you will not be typing for at least two months."
OOOOO
"It's going to be okay, Castle."
"I know. I was actually looking into this program that transcribes as you dictate last year."
"How was it?"
"I used the trial run for a month, but," he sighed. "it wasn't quite the same. But it should be fine for a little while." Two months. He wouldn't type for two whole months.
She accepted that without further questions and he was grateful. He couldn't explain exactly why he hadn't liked that program. Not out loud with the right words that would make sense to her.
At first the program had been exciting. It was super-cool and he felt a bit like a superhero with high-tec gadgets, or that he was from the future or something. Technology never ceased to amaze him. He had whole pages of utterly irrelevant things still saved somewhere on his hard drive. He even got Alexis to talk for a few minutes.
But listening to his own voice had drowned out the ideas and words that had been in his head, so desperately trying to make themselves known. He had thought that being able to speak as they came to him would let him keep pace with the way they formed and then evolved in his mind. So many times he had been writing and the thought had taken him somewhere amazing, leaving him typing madly to try and catch up before he lost the stepping stones his unconscious had somehow found.
When he talked aloud, he only ever focused on what was coming out of his mouth at the time and the end product had read far too ordinary. Literally off the top of his head.
"I have to be in court in an hour but I'll come back and check on you tonight," her voice interrupted his thoughts. She looked over at him and a small smile lifted her face. "If you're good I'll even try some of those traditions you were talking about earlier."
And just like that it wasn't so bad.
She pulled up to the sidewalk just outside his building and he got out grinning.
"Maybe you should have asked Alexis before you made that offer, detective."
Her face contracted in worry.
"Not for permission," he assured her. "Just so you were aware of what you're getting yourself into."
Her eyes narrowed playfully, not masking the sudden relief. "What am I getting myself into?"
"Just you wait."
"Can't wait," she rolled her eyes teasingly and went to drive.
"Kate!"
She looked back over at him surprised. "Yeah?"
"Thank you."
She didn't know how hard it was for him to be back in a hospital again. He hadn't been sure if being with her would make the experience better or worse, but his fear seemed ridiculous now.
"You're welcome."
He watched her until she was out of view and even when he was gritting his teeth to stop swearing when he was trying to wrestle his key into the lock left-handed , he tried not to smile as he recalled the soft look that had suffused her whole face in that moment.
He let himself in, hooking his knee behind him and gently kicking the door closed behind him. Once he heard the distinctive click of the auto-lock engage he wandered forward towards the couches. They were attractive but didn't look comfortable. The backs looked too low to be serviceable for any serious slouching or lazing. But once sitting down, they were amazing. Deceptive. He liked things to be a little deceptive.
Right now they were calling his name. He let his gym bag slip off his shoulder and connect bodily with the floor before he turned and flopped lengthwise onto his furniture. This called for full lazing. None of that half hearted slouching-and-use-the-coffee-table-as-a-footrest nonsense.
When he had found a comfortable place for his head, he sighed and let his eyes close slowly. Open. Close. Stay open and train on the panels of light his windows threw on the walls and ceiling.
Well this is not how he had foreseen his day going. He was home and it was only…he lifted his left arm lazily so he could squint at the watch there…11.46. He was home at 11.46 on a work day.
This sucked.
But he had made it through the hospital without freaking out, so he supposed he should be grateful for the little things. Mental stability over a sore hand.
And it was a little sore. The pain medicine was still numbing most of it but it still pulsed uncomfortably.
The doctor had said it was a good thing the blow had never connected. Castle was inclined to agree. As much as it hurt right now, it would hurt Espo a whole lot more if it had landed. He could only assume the gloves they usually wore cushioned the blows a lot, because Esposito had never said anything except to push him harder.
He could just be a machine.
Castle snorted and levered himself up, noting the knot in his sling was in a very uncomfortable place. Whether Esposito was a machine or not, Castle was human and his stomach was suggesting he might want to replace some of the calories which had been worked off during the morning's workout.
One handed he raided his fridge and extracted the last leftovers from last night's dinner. He had been planning to save them for dinner tonight but it looks like Alexis had taken a good share to work for lunch too.
He scooped the rest of the chicken and the basil vegetables onto a plate with a ladle grumbling under his breath about how annoying it was not being able to lift the dish and scoop at the same time.
He may have shut the microwave door a little too forcefully and punched at the dials hard enough to push the machine back an inch.
He sighed, knowing he was ridiculous and turned away from the machine to inspect the cupboards. If Beckett was heading back after court, he could probably rope her into staying for dinner.
He had bought the chicken breasts yesterday and Alexis was supposed to have picked up spice after work on Wednesday. He figured he could manage that much one handed.
After locating the spice already tucked neatly away in its place he pulled open the freezer and noted his ice cream stocks were healthy. Looks like his daughter might have replaced one of the tubs too.
Special, that one.
The chime on the other side of the kitchen interrupted his inventory.
He burnt his fingertips on the bottom of his plate before he could set it down on the bench. When he did drop the plate there, half of the vegetables abandoned it in favor of the bench and had to be forced back with clumsy fork maneuvers.
His food was cold long before he finished. He had to eat the chicken like a cave man, spearing it with his fork and eating a bite at a time because he couldn't use a knife.
There was still half a plate left when he decided it wasn't worth the effort. He felt bad about it considering all the effort Alexis had expended making it, but that just made him a little more frustrated, thinking how Alexis was going to have to help him even more for the next couple of months.
He pushed back from the bar and headed into his office leaving the kitchen and his plate as they were.
He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't play games one handed. He couldn't pilot his helicopter one handed. He didn't have a movie he wanted to watch – not by himself; that would be in violation of the sick-day regulations. The book he was supposed to be reading for Black Pawn was crap.
All the things he was supposed to do on his day off.
Hell he couldn't even write.
And Nikki was teasing him. She seemed to be offering him a possible way around the hole he had been skirting. But he needed to work it out on paper. Tentative connections were forming but his mind couldn't keep them straight as they all connected.
Of course he would have a brain wave when he had been specifically told he couldn't write. He still had the dictation program installed but he didn't want to lose this. He wanted to get the important steps down rather than concentrate on getting out full sentences.
But when did he ever listen to anyone?
He brought his computer out of hibernation and opened his draft. He deliberately avoided looking at the last paragraph he had written, pressing Enter until it was out of sight. He started hopping around the keyboard with his left hand. Words reluctantly formed vertical lists as he fought to get down the phrases in the scene he had in his mind.
His frenzied one left hand typing got the keywords out one by one until he stopped and looked at the list of words and phrases that represented the thoughts slowly driving him mad.
He was driving himself mad over a list of words.
He had intended the stress ball to end up near the stairwell when he flung it away, but with his left hand his aim only directed it into the bookcases dividing off the room and rebounded at him.
He shut his eyes and counted mentally to ten. When that didn't help he started counting backwards from ten.
He was going to go mad if he stayed here. He slipped his loft key from the ring so he wouldn't jingle wherever he went and hit the stairwell at a jog.
OOOOOO
The door was locked. She knocked and rolled her weight onto one hip as she waited. There was no sound of movement and the red door made no sign it was going to move. She frowned and rang the bell.
Looks like that medicine might have knocked him out. She didn't really want to wake him up but she didn't particularly want to spend the next few hours in his hallway either. Plus, if he kept this up, he wouldn't be able to sleep at tonight, meaning he would be annoying if he made it into work tomorrow.
She dug out her phone and called him. She froze when she heard it ringing inside.
If she could hear it, he couldn't be in his room or his office. Had he crashed on his couch? It was more comfortable than it looked.
She dug out her own set of keys and flipped to the one she had never used. She knew he wouldn't mind. Mind? He'd love it.
He'd certainly never let her forget it.
She had the copy made after he had to break down her door. It would be a lot easier if she had a key in the case of an emergency and he just didn't know about it.
She let herself in and unconsciously searched the room for any disturbances when she found his phone unattended on the coffee table. It looked neat enough. No signs of a struggle.
But his meal was half eaten on the bar. The dishes were scattered over the bench.
She moved to the office and found it empty. She almost tripped over a stress ball.
Castle actually used those?
She scanned the room. Other than an upset pen holder nothing seemed out of place. His laptop was on with the screen saver still functioning.
Had he been writing?
Maybe it was from last night. She knew he had a tendency to leave it running. She remembered that conversation: sometimes he needed to write and didn't want to risk losing his train of thought waiting for the computer to boot. Sometimes typing messages on his phone wasn't good enough.
She caught sight of his wallet and keys on the desk.
"Castle?"
She moved into his bedroom, worry starting to rise. No phone, keys or wallet? That did not sound like the Castle she knew.
The bed was empty and roughly made. She strode through and scanned the bathroom. Empty.
Beckett pulled her phone out and was about to start going through their common contacts as she moved to check the second floor. Two steps up she heard the door unlock and she froze, putting her hand on her weapon but not drawing it. A key meant it was probably Martha or Alexis.
She wished it was Castle.
The door burst open when the lock had barely finished its rotation. He was red-faced and clearly drenched in sweat, gasping for breath as he moved towards the back of the loft.
He was here. She wasn't imagining it surely. He was really there.
"What the hell, Castle!" she yelled.
He jumped violently in a way she would have found amusing if she hadn't been so pissed at herself for freaking out and at him for worrying her.
"Kate?" he puffed, his face widening in surprise at her obvious anger as she stalked towards him.
"Castle! Where have you been?"
"Out for a run."
"Take your damn phone!" she shoved at the shoulder not in his sling to stop herself throwing her arms around him.
He was fine. He was safe.
"Wha," his face darkened as he recovered from the violent shove. "I don't like it distracting me. It bounces in my pocket," he frowned.
"I don't care. You take your phone with you or I get a tracking device."
"Whoa, Beckett!" he looked bewildered.
"My partner does not just go off grid, okay?" she squeezed her eyes shut for a second.
"Okay," he agreed, still looking at her with something like shock. "Okay. I'll take my phone with me next time. Sorry."
She let a hand rest on her head, taking a long moment to ground herself. "No, Castle," she breathed. "I'm sorry. I guess I kind of freaked."
"I get it. If you didn't answer your door and left everything behind I'd be yelling at Ryan and Esposito by now."
"That was my next call," she grimaced.
"Quite a pair, aren't we?"
She just shook her head in disbelief. She really must be losing it.
"I'm going to get a drink. You want something?"
"Whatever you're having."
"Water it is."
"Sounds good," she sighed and followed his broad, sweat-stained back to the kitchen. The sight prompted her back into awareness.
"Wait," she stopped and waited for him to look back at her. "You went for a run?"
"Yes?"
She closed her eyes. "Idiot."
"What?"
"You idiot, you broke bones today."
"I didn't break my leg," he objected.
"Haven't you done enough research to know it doesn't matter?" she moved into his space and pulled back the edge of sling to look at his hand. Sure enough the bruising had carried further with the heightened blood flow. His fingers were very red and swollen. Looks like he had tried to curl them into fists too. Made sense if he was running and she thanked the sturdy splints which had prevented him doing just that.
"Wow," his voice was on the top of her head.
"It's a good thing this back-slab allows for swelling or I'd be dragging you back to the hospital right now. Or to Lanie."
"I'll get some ice."
"Not that it'll do much good through all that."
"I'll find a way. There's a reason Lanie works with dead people- she's scary."
R&R, please?