He wants to ask about Esposito and Ryan and Gates. The curiosity burns low in his stomach even as she breathes into his shoulder, alive and here. But they're barely holding it together and he doesn't want to break the fragile truce.
"You hungry?" he asks instead, shifting from side to side in an attempt to wake up muscles that have gone to sleep.
"No food," she replies quietly. "Ate what was in the fridge that didn't go bad. Vending machines don't work. It's a good thing you got here when you did. Was about to leave and try to find somewhere else to hide with bottled water and canned food."
"Too bad we didn't get to my bunker in time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
Her laugh is short and very nearly silent but he can feel her body shake just a little. "You don't have a bunker, Castle."
"When we get out of this, I'm getting one. And we're not ever leaving it."
"Fine with me," she promises.
He needs to get her food. Now. The way she trembles against his side and her voice never goes over a loud whisper has concern cutting through him.
"Kate?"
She hums, her head heavy on his shoulder and her loose hair making the shallow bullet wound he had forgotten about sting.
"We need to go," he says, nudging at her body until she rests in the corner of the room. "We need to get out of here."
"And go where?"
"Think we can make it up to Whole Foods past 97th? There'd be food and water."
Kate nods slowly. "Let's do it." She pushes up, using the wall far too much for Castle's comfort, and just barely catches herself on the file cabinet. She glares when he reaches out catch her. "I'm okay. Just… Let's get going."
He grabs her wrist, pulling her back into the corner. "Kate," he murmurs, his forehead falling down to hers. "I can't lose you again."
Her hand smooths over his stubbled cheek, thumb tracing the line of his lower lip. "You're not going to. We're together now. How many trials have we survived together?"
"Too many," he says, turning his head to press a kiss to her palm, feeling her shiver at the contact. "Just pushing our luck now."
"Hey." He opens his eyes and finds her smiling tentatively. "We're going to be fine."
Castle reaches into his pocket and takes out one of the clips of ammo. "Here."
She pushes it back into his stomach. "Got my own," she says, searching in the pocket of her blazer and pulling out three clips. "Found them in Esposito's desk. You keep those."
He winces as he puts the extra bullets back into his pocket. A glance down at his right arm shows, in shades of shadow, the ripped fabric of his shirt and the darker line of blood from the graze of the bullet.
"Castle, what happened?" she asks, touching her fingertips lightly to the area.
"Got shot trying to find you. Manly, huh?"
"First aid kit in the break room," she says, trailing her fingers down to tangle with his. "Come on. We'll clean you up and then hit the road."
He feels better to have her back at his side as she leads the way across the precinct. Sure, they're both tense with hands on their guns and eyes trained on the corners of the bullpen but now he can have her back just as surely as she has his.
The first aid kit has a crank-powered flashlight buried under the unraveled elastic bandages and mess of antiseptic wipes. Castle sits on the couch as he spins the wheel, watching Kate dig until she finds a large band-aid and some still-sealed wipes.
"Let there be light," he says a moment before flipping the flashlight on, a hand up to shield the beam so their eyes can adjust to the sudden change.
He takes the chance to look at her in the filtered light. Really look at her.
She's a little thinner and her hair is tangled up in the hair elastic caught at the bottom of her neck. She looks exhausted and figures that's due to the nightmares, real and imagined, keeping her from truly sleeping. They can fix that once they get to Whole Foods by coming up with a schedule to sleep and keep watch. Her hands shake while holding the first aid supplies, her gun in the other hand. The dress pants have lost the sharp creases she normally prides herself on and her cream sweater is dirty.
"Castle? You with me still?"
He nods, following her eyes as she scans his body in a manner similar to his own examination of her. "Yeah."
"Need you to take off your shirt so I can get at your arm," Kate says, her gaze darting away from him to watch the doorways as he unbuttons the dress shirt and shrugs it off.
Castle picks his gun back up, letting her know that he'll cover the room in a low whisper, and shifts so he can aim the flashlight at his upper arm at the same time. He isn't great with his left hand but he knows she's fast.
The wipe stings a bit as she cleans up the edges of the wound and he hisses between his teeth when she presses the band-aid down over the graze. She murmurs an apology into his hair, leaning hard into his back and her arms wrapped around his chest so her lips can just barely clear his ear.
"Thank you," she sighs, "for coming to find me."
He pulls up the old response, falling back on the familiar. "It's what partners do," he says, getting up off the couch. "Let's go."
He leaves the torn dress shirt behind.
