The captain draws in a long breath over her folded hands and lets it out in a long, tired sigh. Resting her mouth against her knuckles is the only thing keeping her head off the surface of her paper-laden desk. She's exhausted. The coffee from the breakroom is only serving as a brief, albeit effective slap in the face. She finished the last of the pot an hour ago and now she doesn't have the energy left to climb out of her chair and start another pot, knowing that once she sits back down to wait for it to brew, she'll be too tired to get up again.

She might close her eyes for a moment, but she won't fall asleep. At first, it was out of pride, mixed with obligation to wait up in the night for a word. Now, it's out of scared confusion.

Her eyes rove over the large expanse of her desk, papers and case files strewn about haphazardly and sitting in front of her is her copy of Storm Season, the back cover facing up to have his picture smile back at her. She's out of tears at this point and her emotional reserves are already drained, stealed over to fill back up. Her heart is cocooned up, healing itself at the price of her not feeling anything but empty. There's maybe a hint of shame left, a touch of guilt somewhere.

Her seven-year-old daily planner is opened up and sitting on the corner of her desk and just below it, the case file from the Alison Tisdale murder case, opened and the pictures of the bodies facing her. Scattered across the rest of her desk are papers and reports from other cases, cases that she, until now, felt good about. She just can't stop thinking about what he said.

"My Kate Beckett would never compromise."

She unfolds her hands and reaches down to her necklace, clutching the ring tightly in her hands, her eyes too raw already to feel any burn or form any tears. If she was wrong about this case and there was more to it like he said, if all she needed to do was just push a little bit harder, if all she needed to do was just not take the first route to closing the case, how many other killers has she let go free?

She's been questioning if she's cut out for this job ever since Montgomery retired and told her she was up for a promotion. She felt good about it when Gates actually gave her that promotion and then gave her the Captain's chair not too long after taking over. A part of her misses Captain Gates. They got along really well. Both of them strong-willed career women, life long cops, nothing else in their lives to stand in the way of them dedicating themselves to the effort.

But maybe she was wrong.

Her knuckles turn white as she clutches her mother's ring even tighter when her eyes look down to his picture and the image of him on the floor flashes in her mind. Her throat tightens but it doesn't go further than that.

A soft knock clicks at the door jam. Beckett looks up and drops the ring from her hand and pulls at the front of her shirt to let it fall to her chest and calls out. "Come in."

Her door, slightly ajar already, is pushed open and an eight-month pregnant Lanie walks in. "You left a message to see me?"

She blinks tiredly and folds her hands in front of her again, leaning on them to keep herself upright. "Close the door." She orders in a tired voice.

Lanie waddles her way in and closes the door behind her, the blinds rattling against the window of the door to her office sending a deep pang of annoyance into her system. It seems the only real emotion she has the energy to feel is anger, ready, willing, and very able to snap at the first and littlest thing to set her off. "Word's all over the precinct." Lanie says and eases her way down into the chair across from her. She sees Lanie take a moment to look over her desk before she finally takes a look at the captain. "Beckett, you look exhausted."

"I never went home." She says against her hands and looks back down to her desk. "I just had a complete stranger jump in front of a bullet for me, Lanie." She continues when she feels her headache start to come back. On a whim, she pulls open the top drawer of her desk and takes the bottle of Aleve, quickly shaking out two more pills. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first pointless all-nighter I've put myself through in this office."

Lanie's brow pushes together. "You feeling okay?"

Beckett holds the pills in her palm and answers, "Yeah," she says and throws the pills down her throat, "I just have a headache." She finishes after swallowing.

"Did you ever hear back from the hospital?" Lanie asks and folds her hands on top of her stomach.

Beckett nods, "They called me last night and said he's out of surgery. He took a pretty bad hit to the shoulder and they had trouble getting the bullet out without knicking an artery or causing any serious nerve damage. He's stable now though, so they're just waiting for him to come out of it now."

"You don't sound too thrilled about it." She answers back plainly. "Did something happen that the rumor mill didn't tell me about?"

Beckett just gazes tiredly over her hands across her desk at her. "Lanie, I've known him for one day." She begins, unfolding her hands and letting them fall to the surface of her desk. "You didn't see him whenever he took that bullet. It's like..." she trails off, throwing herself back into her chair, "it's like he was just glad that I was safe." She says on a shrug. "I've never had... anyone... be willing to give that much up for me. And he did it all without a single shred of hesitation."

"Beckett, what's really going on here? Who is this guy?"

She takes in a quick breath and leans forward, grabbing the Tisdale case file and handing out over across her desk. "Alison Tisdale, found dead on the night of March 9th, 2009. She had sunflowers over her eyes and rose pedals over her body."

Lanie studies the pictures, vaguely remembering the case. "I sort of remember this one."

"Two days ago," Beckett starts again, pulling herself up to her desk, "Richard Castle came into my precinct claiming that he'd worked that case with me seven years ago."

Lanie flips over the picture to read the case file. "Says here the lead on the case was McNulty."

Beckett draws in another breath and reaches for her old planner. "I did some digging through some old stuff of mine," she says and takes up her planner, "and found this." She hands Lanie the planner, March 9th circled in red marker, and gives her a moment to read it. "I remember that night, Lanie. I was off duty and had a date that night. I was sitting in the cafe waiting for him to get there when I started to think he wasn't coming. I remember because I had my phone in my hand and I was just about to speed dial dispatch to tell them I was picking up another shift when he showed up."

"Which," Lanie starts, handing her planner back to her, "would have put you on call the night of the murder."

"And I would have met him then... just like he said." She finishes for her in a tired, raspy voice.

Lanie looks down to the case file for another moment before looking back up, "Whatever happened with the date?"

Beckett rolls her eyes deeply and tosses herself back into her office chair, reaching up and pressing her palms into her aching forehead. "He was an online vegan blogger slash professional dog-walker who didn't know I was a cop. What do you think happened?"

Lanie chuckles to herself and flips the file closed. "What's with you always striking out, girl?"

With her hands still at her face, her head craned back to lean against the headrest, Beckett answers her through her palms. "Not in the mood for insults right now, Lanie."

"What about that hot doctor you dated some years back? Why'd you ever break up with him?"

"We never broke up exactly." Beckett explains, letting her hands fall down to her armrests. "We dated for a few months before he went back to Haiti and by the time he was due back, I'd made lieutenant under Gates and was studying for the Captain's exam."

"Well, what about this guy?" Lanie tries again, reaching forward awkwardly over her pregnant stomach to grab the book sitting in front of her. "He's clearly into you enough to take a bullet and..." Lanie's eyes lid and a hazy smile appears on her face, "Whew, girl, he is fine." She says and tosses the book back down to her desk.

"And out of his mind." Beckett continues, grabs the paperback and sets it clear on the other side of her desk, face up. "And even if he wasn't convinced that we'd worked the Tisdale case together and wasn't delusional as to actually assume he knows anything about me at all, I have too much going on. The DA seems reluctant to pull out of the plea bargain and go for full charges now that we have evidence on Lark. The mayor is talking about another budget cut unless our case closure rate sees an increase. And I just had a man that I've known all of a day take a bullet for me without a single ounce of hesitation because he says that he loves me. So, forgive me if a relationship isn't exactly on my list."

As Beckett is pulling herself up to her desk again and is starting to gather up the case files strewn about her desk, Lanie is vigorously shaking her head and rubbing her pinky finger in her ear. "I'm sorry, he said what?"

Beckett locks eyes on a paper in her hands, only raising her brow as she moves it across her desk. "He said he loves me. You want any more proof he's out of his mind?"

"Wait," Lanie starts quickly as she pushes herself to the side against the arm of her chair, "why would he-"

"I don't know, Lanie." Beckett stops her, looking her in the eye as the cacoon around her heart starts to thin. "I don't know who he is, or who he thinks I am to him, but whatever this delusion of his, it's real enough to him for him to put his life on the line for me. And at the very least," she says, trying to harden herself as much as she can as the memory of him standing just outside the door to her office, telling her that his Kate Beckett, the Kate Beckett she grew up knowing herself as, would never compromise when it comes to justice, "I owe it to him not to compromise on this."

Without another word, Beckett stands up on weak legs and turns to move out around her desk. "Where are you going?" Lanie asks.

"I'm going to find out just who it is he thinks I am to him."

After a tired walk to the hospital, stopping briefly at the vending machine in the lobby to pick herself up another quick caffeinated slap in the face, she soon makes her way into the lobby and approaches the reception desk, grabbing for her badge with the hand not occupied by her bitter, tasteless black coffee. She flashes her badge to the nurse behind the counter and the nurse looks up with a bit of a stunned, blank stare.

"Captain Kate Beckett, I'm looking for Richard Castle's room." She says sternly, forcing it out over the exhaustion as she tucks her badge back into her pocket.

The nurse looks up to her again after a brief glance downward, then lifts her arm up and points down the hall with a pen. "Down the hall, hang a right, room one oh seven."

Beckett nods, looking down to the counter before deciding to ask more questions, whether to stall her seeing him again or to help him, she isn't sure. "I stationed an officer with his family. Would you happen to know if he's still here?"

The nurse looks up again, seeming surprised that she's still lingering. "I believe he is, yes."

Beckett nods seriously, seeming to actually care about her response. "And the family?" She asks, gaining the nurse's eyes back. "Are they still here?"

"I can't be sure, Ma'am. I just started my shift." The nurse replies, looking back down to her paperwork.

"What about uh..." Beckett continues to stall, earning herself another somewhat annoyed look from the nurse, "his condition. Is he still stable? Has there been any complications?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I-"

"I know," Beckett stops her, starting to berate herself internally for even asking, "doctor-patient, I get it."

The nurse nods at the Captain again before taking up a clipboard. "Just uh..." she trails off before stepping out from around the reception desk, "just take your time."

Deeply annoyed at the pity, Beckett grits her teeth and waits until the nurse disappears down the hall to lift her cup to her lips again, take a small, unsatisfying sip that makes her headache swell again when she swallows, and starts down the hall she was pointed toward in long strides. As she rounds the corner and starts to count the door numbers as she passes them, she clutches her badge inside of her pocket tightly, her heart starting to rise up into her throat, feeling like it wants to choke her.

She sees a uniform standing against the wall to the right side of the hallway with his thumbs hanging from his belt. She approaches him, immediately catching his attention as his back straightens like a rod. Beckett gives him a single nod. "You're dismissed, Officer. I've got it from here."

The officer raises a brow at her. "You sure, Sir?"

With another deep pang of annoyance, she swallows as much of is as she can to stifle the boom her voice wants to let out. "It may have been a while, Officer, but I was still a beat cop once, same as you. I've got it from here."

She waits until the officer silently complies with his captain's orders and rounds the corner to grab the doorknob and push the door open. Despite her aching head, the instant she sees him again lying asleep in the hospital bed to the left side of the room, her heart clenches painfully in her chest and her stomach feels as if it's being pulled in on itself. An automatic reaction that she wasn't prepared for and can't shake away. The only thing keeping her standing is her holding onto the doorknob.

The sight of him hurt like this just... pains her.

"Captain Beckett?" A soft, airy voice says next to her.

Beckett is jolted out of her momentary spiral and looks to her left, seeing the girl from yesterday with jet black hair, now noticing it looks dyed instead of her natural hair color, standing up from one of the chairs against the wall in a pair of loose black yoga pants, black skate shoes, and a long sleeved t-shirt with a grey chest and black sleeves. "Alexis."

The girl nods, giving the captain a soft smile. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I-I uh..." she struggles for a neutral answer as she turns to look at him again, "I just wanted to see how he's doing. Has he woken up yet?" She asks, turning back to the girl.

Alexis shakes her head and looks to her father. "No... but they said he was going to be okay. I should be able to get him home this afternoon."

Beckett gives the girl an encouraging smile, having to force it as it seems heavy on her features. "That's good."

"Could you..." Alexis trails off, crossing her arms nervously as she turns back to Beckett. "Could you maybe sit with him for a while?"

The request makes Beckett's heart skip a beat. Whoever this man is, whoever he thinks she is, whatever he's going through, she still isn't sure how much of a fight she's going to have to put up.

"I need to call my boss in L.A. and tell him I'm staying longer than I thought. I don't think my dad should be left alone right now."

Reluctantly, she gives Alexis a nod and she quickly digs her phone out of her pocket, brushes a long strand of hair behind her ear and makes for the door, shutting it behind her. And now, left alone with him, her stomach knots uncomfortably. She takes a moment before her feet carry her over to his bedside. The sight of his shoulder wrapped in bandages and his arm held up in a sling against his stomach... the only way she can describe it is it breaks her heart.

The pale blue hospital gown is hanging low on his neck and she can see the clear outline of his chest and her head slowly starts to list. Something about the sight of him like this... it feels like an invitation to just curl up and go to sleep. After another long moment, she shakes her head looks down to his arm laying at his side. Her hand tingles, wanting to reach down to him, but she denies it by stuffing her hand back into the pocket of her coat and clutching her badge again.

"Mmm..." he moans softly, rusting the sheets as he stirs in bed.

Beckett looks up, her system frozen at his movement. "Mr. Castle?" She forces out.

Castle nods lethargically off to one side, leaning his head toward her before he slowly peels his eyes open. She quickly locks eyes with him and it's only a moment before a sleepy smile starts to spread across his face. "Am I back?"

Her throat closes shut at that, not having any clue how to respond. She swallows thickly passed her own heart and stiffens herself, rolling her shoulders back. "I should probably get the nurse." She says and starts to turn.

She stops when she feels his warm hand find her's just as she pulls it from her pocket. Everything locks at his contact and her headache swells painfully again. "Mmm, don't go, Beckett. I just..." he trails off, letting the words fall as she feels him pinch her ring finger with his thumb and forefinger. Unable to shake off his contact, she watches, frozen, as his fingers rub against her ring finger and his eyes quickly look down to her hand.

His sleepy smile and hazy features fall into a sad pain, as if his whole world has just been robbed of him. All she can do is watch as he looks up to her, looking frightened with his blue eyes looking up at her and his hand still holding hers. "No..."

"Castle," she starts calmly and moves her hand to softly clasp his.

He blinks his eyes hard, and she feels her stomach fold again as she sees them turn red. "No," he mutters again and shakes his head in a wide motion, ending it by looking in the opposite direction as her. "No, it didn't work."

"Castle, look at me!" She says emotionally, her hand ripping itself out of his grasp and reach up to his jaw, turning his face to look at her. When their eyes lock again, she stiffens and takes her hand off his face like a hot coal. "Just..." she starts, taking her hand back, "slow down... I'll go find a nurse, okay?"

She holds his gaze until she gets an answer as he looks away from her and down to the sheets. She quickly lets out a breath, turns, and makes her way out the door, shutting it behind her.

Castle grits his teeth, gnashing and grinding in boiling anger and painful sorrow as tears burn in the back of his eyes. He balls up his fists, wrenching the bedsheets, and sends it down into the metal railing of his hospital bed. "I'm so sorry, Kate." He mutters in a choked voice to the ceiling, picturing the woman he loves, the love of his life, somewhere in his own world looking for him... thinking he abandoned her again.

Closing his throat, he squeezes his eyes shut.

"I'm so sorry."

A/N: Glad to see the response I got. Time to pick it up a bit, seeing what Beckett's been up to before the real fun begins. :)