She opened her eyes into the blackness. And she remembered. When she had popped the trunk and saw Castles pale face, there was no relief etched into his features. He looked beyond her, pupils dilating with fear and suddenly he was grabbing at her, pulling her toward him as the gunshot cracked behind her.
Espo had saved her life. Doctors said he would be fine, that he was stable but he'd lost a lot of blood and the surgery had worn him down. The bullet had been a through and through, grazing the bone in his upper arm and nicking an artery. He'd shot back, putting a bullet in the shooter that ended the fight in a literal heartbeat. As Castle had called for backup and an ambulance, she'd tried to stop the bleeding as her friend had lain in fading consciousness on the floor. She'd told him not to follow her. She'd told him she was going alone and he hadn't listened. And now he was hurt, and it was her fault.
In the darkness, she was overwhelmed. It sunk around her like a blanket, and she felt the events of the day rising up in her throat, trying to choke her. It should have been her. It would have been. And if he'd missed, and it had been Castle? If he'd found his mark, and shot her? Brackens team were appealing his sentence - this was a message. Did she want to fight this battle all over again? Could she find the strength, after sending him away the first time, to go through it all over again?
She curled up into a ball, tugging the blankets around her as she began to sob. The stinging of the tears felt new and raw and she realised how very rarely she cried, how often she'd held on the mask and powered on. She tried to stifle a sob into the blanket as the sheet stirred next to her, and in the dim light she saw Castle, concern etched softly on his face, sliding closer to her. She buried her face into the pillow, not wanting him to see her like that, and felt two warm hands take her shoulders and pull her to his side, nestling her gently against his broad chest. He said nothing. He understood. She felt her sobs pour into him, cathartic and healing and she wrapped herself around him, afraid that whatever was happening would carry her away and sweep her up in the current, away from her anchor. And as he sat in silence, cradling her gently like a frightened animal, as she felt his hands soothing the shakes from her back, she knew she could do it. She knew she could face Bracken again, and as she raised her tear streaked face to his, she knew Castle had been awake all night thinking the same, but for him, it was worse. Beckett and Esposito had come for him, and it weighed heavy on his mind. She reached for him, extending a finger to touch the bruise that flourished along his jaw, closing her eyes in the warmth of his body as he bent to kiss the tears from her cheeks softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
"I'm sorry." He whispered into her ear, the low warmth in the bass of his voice sending vibrations through her.
"It's not your fault." She'd replied, kissing him sadly and trying to take away the guilt that she knew had plagued him. "I love you." She breathed into his lips, and she felt the hint of his smile against her mouth as he said it back.