So after much deliberation (and a well-thought out review) I have decided to continue this just a bit. No longer a one-shot, but now in four parts.
Castle woke alone, and for one terrifying moment his writer's mind plunged him into a horrifying alternate reality. This could have been his life had something gone differently yesterday. One slip, and their always would have been ripped away from them in a cruel moment. Then his eyes caught the faint light coming under the bathroom door and he breathed a sigh of relief. A vicious, rattling cough broke the silence, as if to remind him that this was no ordinary night, and he winced. She'd been awakened twice tonight since they went to bed; once from a violent coughing fit and once from a nightmare. He'd gotten up with her both times, holding her until her shaking had subsided, and murmuring nonsense against her hair as she drifted back to sleep.
He threw back the mound of blankets he'd piled on the bed earlier in an effort to keep Kate warm and pulled his boxers on in the same motion he used to stand. "Kate?" he called softly, rapping his knuckles against the dark wood of the bathroom door. Silence answered and he opened the door fearing the worst.
She was standing in front of the mirror, her eyes hazy and unseeing as she swam in her memories. The backlight from the shower cast her face in partial shadow, but he could tell she wasn't really aware of her surroundings. Her palms were flat against the cool granite of the counter, and her pale skin was marred viciously by the darkening bruise on her head. She was in a pair of his sweatpants, the drawstring pulled as tight as possible and knotted twice. She swam in the NYPD hoodie she'd purposefully ordered a few sizes too big. It was faded and worn from constant use, though now it smelled like his laundry soap instead of hers.
"Kate?" he tried again, moving stand behind her. He tried to catch her eye in the mirror, but she was lost in thought. His hands moved to her shoulders, feeling the tension just under the still too-cool skin of her neck. He crowded her but didn't wrap his arms around her, no matter how much he longed to. He opted instead to let his palms spread out over her ribs on either side, framing her body and letting her know that he was there. He felt her take a breath, but it was short and harsh, like she couldn't inhale deeply.
"Kate," his tone lilted with worry, and he mentally sifted through the information the paramedic had spouted off at the scene. "Kate, honey, are you having trouble breathing?"
"M'fine," she mumbled, but there was no force behind it. In the soft glow of the shower light, he couldn't really see her face clearly enough to know for sure. He reached over and flipped on the bright lights above the mirror, and they both flinched at the sudden brightness. When his eyes finally adjusted he gasped.
"We need to get you to a hospital." He turned her around to face him, but she managed to step out of his arms and toward the door.
"I'm fine, Castle. I'm just tired." She took a short breath between her words, and Castle shook his head.
"Kate, you're not fine," he protested. "Your skin is pale, you've been coughing constantly, and you're not breathing properly. Get your shoes." His tone left no room for argument but Kate was already halfway to bed.
"I just need rest, Castle."
"No," he took a few strides forward and gripped her arm firmly. "Kate, please. You need to be checked out, at least. There may be leftover complications from the cold or the water..." He trailed off, unable to even think about the horrible ordeal she'd been through. "Please," he begged. He pulled her into his arms, wincing as he felt her take a pained breath beneath him. "I can't lose you now."
She was quiet and still, and for a moment he thought she'd passed out on him. Finally she took a ragged breath and looked up, seeing the frantic worry in his eyes. "Alright," she caved, shoving away from him gently. "But if the doctor says nothing is wrong, you owe me a full body massage."
"Deal," he agreed quickly, scrambling to get dressed as she found her tennis shoes. He left a note on the counter for Alexis and his mother before ushering Kate out of the door and downstairs. He debated going to the garage for the Ferrari; at this time of night the streets would be relatively clear. But a taxi would be faster, and he had the doorman summon one as Kate leaned against him heavily.
"You alright?" he murmured.
"Just -" her statement was cut off by a yawn, and she gave him a rue smile. "Tired," she finished. "Someone dragged me away from my comfortable bed at three in the morning." He didn't even apologize as the taxi pulled up, and he pushed her in ahead of him as he called out the name of the hospital.
Ten minutes into the trip, Kate sagged heavily against him. "Kate?" he shook her gently, but her head just lolled against his shoulder. "Kate?" his voice was more urgent, and the cabbie glanced at them in the rearview.
"She okay?"
"Just get us to the hospital now," Castle answered sharply, cursing himself for not calling an ambulance. But, he reasoned silently, then she'd be unconscious in his loft while they waited; at least now they were only five minutes away from the ER. "Hang on, Kate." He slipped a hand under her hoodie and laid his palm against her abdomen, feeling the shallow breaths that her body was fighting to take. He pulled her body against his, repeating his plea quietly in the silence of the cab.