A/N: Thank you for the lovely response to this story! I am not sure that I'm responding to reviews correctly, so a huge thank you to anyone who reviews follows or favorites. Love you guys! I actually went back and watched Rise and the doctor who performs surgery on Kate is named Dr. Kovacks. I don't know the exact spelling so this is my guess. Who says I don't do my research?

. . .

"When do we get to see him?" Alexis says, her face split into a joyous grin.

"He won't wake up for another couple of hours, but you can stay in his room with him until he does," the doctor says, indicating the two redheads. "Once Mr. Castle gets situated in his room I'll have some nurses bring you back."

Martha and Alexis thank him profusely and shake his hand before embracing each other tightly. The doctor smiles at the two women. He then turns to the rest of the people waiting in the hallway.

"Are any of you directly related to the patient?"

There is a brief silence.

"No," Beckett says despondently, her jaw clenched with slight irritation. She knew that none of them were going to be able to stay.

"Alright," the man's tone is much less friendly than it was when he had been talking to Martha and Alexis, "Mr. Castle needs his rest. Since none of you are blood related, you're all going to have to visit on your own time during visiting hours when the patient is awake. I suggest you all go home and get some rest."

Kate wants to scream at him. Everyone here cares about Rick, and she just wants to see him, ensure that his heart is really beating. She opens her mouth to defy the doctor, tell him that he can shove hospital policy up his ass, because she needs to see her partner, but the part of her that is still rational forces the words down.

As Dr. Kovacks strides away, Jim moves over to his daughter and wraps a strong hand around her elbow.

"Call me if you need anything, Katie," he murmurs gently. She nods and he presses a kiss to her forehead before gathering his jacket and heading for the elevator.

The brunette detective sways unsurely on her feet for a moment. She doesn't want to go home; she doesn't want to be alone. If she goes home she is going to have to confront the fears that even though the doctor said it's going to be okay, Rick might die any minute that she is away from him, leaving her with an ocean of memories and years of lost time. Ryan and Esposito shift to stand in front of her, small, helpful smiles on their faces.

Ryan begins, "We were thinking-,"

"Maybe we should go to the precinct. See if any evidence or witnesses have turned up."

Beckett looks at both of them, silently thanking them for their support, but she doesn't' know if she can handle going to the precinct and facing all of the possible dead ends and the empty office of their captain.

But it's better that being alone.

"Let's go," she says firmly.

The three detectives and the medical examiner say their goodbyes to Castle's mother and daughter. Ryan, Esposito and Lanie start making their way to the exit, but Beckett drags behind slightly, reluctant to leave the building when she knows that Castle is in pain somewhere.

"Kate," Martha says.

The cop turns, concerned, and walks back to the waiting area. "Yes, Martha? Do you need anything?"

Martha just smiles and then wraps her arms around Beckett tightly, then pulls back to look into the younger woman's eyes. "I'll call as soon as he wakes up, darling."

Kate smiles, elation shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Martha."

. . .

Ryan offers to take Lanie home. Usually, Javier would be the one to go with her, but Lanie knows as well as anyone that is anyone knows what to say to Kate right now, it's Esposito.

Esposito drops a fleeting kiss to Lanie's cheek, and then walks to his car with Beckett. Once the both of them get situated, Esposito starts the car and heads for the precinct. She's quiet. He expects as much, but it's still unnerving. It's a significant difference compared to the fiery, kick-ass detective he is accustomed to. Javier cares about Kate like a sister, and as much as he's worried about Castle, he can only guess what she's thinking. He guesses that numerous scenarios are making their way through her mind; all horrific in variety.

Esposito's suspicions are confirmed when she says, "What if he dies?"

He glances over at her before returning his attention to the road. She looks exhausted and scared, which she is, because she can still hear the sound of the heart monitor ringing in her ears as he flat lines and she feels like he's going to stop living and she won't be there to yank him back from the precipice.

"You can't focus on every worst-case scenario. The doctors said that the surgery went well and that he'll most likely pull through. Castle's a fighter; he'll pull through. You have to believe that."

She shakes her head, "He got shot in the chest, Javi. There's a risk for complications-,"

"That won't happen," he says, only trying to ease her worries, but in reality they both know that complications from the procedure are a possibility. "And if it does, I'll pull out the gumball and get you back to the hospital so that you can kick his ass until he's okay. Right now he's stable and that is what's important."

Beckett takes a deep breath, because behind her stubbornness, she knows that he's right. She plans to drop the conversation and let the car lull with a peaceful silence, but then the image of the tears streaming from his bright blue eyes as his blood stains her hands and the words expel from her mouth before she can deny them.

"I told him that I love him."

Her fellow detective remains oddly silent, so she elaborates, "Right before he closed his eyes-after the bullet hit. That's when I told him."

"Did you mean it?"

She's offended by the question and her response is immediate, "Yes."

Then Esposito smiles, "That's wonderful. Now, not only does he have his daughter and mother to survive for, but he has your words, too."

"Yeah…I suppose he does." She has never thought of it that way before, and it makes the corners of her mouth drift upwards.

The ghost of his smile still on his face, Javier turns to her, looking slightly apprehensive. "What happens when he wakes up, Kate?"

Beckett answers truthfully, "I don't know."

. . .

Ryan hangs up the phone and glances at his notes one last time, wondering idly if he can make them look less inadequate.

"Hey, bro you got anything?" Esposito says, causing Ryan to turn and face him.

"Nothing good. You?"

"About the same."

They both look discreetly at Beckett, who is leaning up against her desk staring at the murder board, which she has been doing for the past three hours. All of them are still in their clothes from this morning.

"We should go update her. It's getting pretty late; we should all go home. We can't do anything more tonight," Esposito sighs.

The two detectives cross the bullpen. "Beckett," Ryan says carefully.

She tilts her head, her eyes red-rimmed from crying and exhaustion. Every time he's talked to her, in that moment before she composes herself, there's this tragic, fragile look in her eyes, like if you touch her she would break like a porcelain doll. But when they approach, something blooms in her gaze; a sheer layer of hope. Its presence is uplifting.

"Anything?"

Ryan drums his fingers on his notebook nervously and then begins. "All of the ground keepers at the cemetery have solid alibis. The area where the shooter could have escaped was clear except for people visiting graves, and all of their stories check out. We think that the sniper left the cemetery from the north entrance, because there are no operating businesses with cameras near that exit."

Any trace of hope in her eyes wilts and vanishes.

Running a hand over her face, she quietly asks, "Espo?"

"None of the funeral attendees noticed anything unusual and no one caught a glimpse of the shooter. Police dogs were brought to the scene. They were able to trail the scent to the edge of the property, but they lost it at the gates."

She clenches her jaw and grits her teeth as the information, or lack of it, settles onto her skin.

"So we basically don't know any more than we did three hours ago?"

Ryan stands tall and averts his eyes in defeat, lacking the right words to say. Esposito takes a step towards her and narrows his voice, "Look, Beckett, there's nothing more we can do now, not until CSU processes the area."

"You know as well as I do that they aren't going to find anything," she says defiantly.

"Maybe, but maybe we'll get a break. Either way, the best way to help Rick is to go home and get some rest."

Even though she wants to, Kate finds that she's too tired to say no.

. . .

When she enters her apartment and locks the door behind her, she immediately longs to be back at the precinct. It's never completely deserted at the twelfth; there's always at least a clerk or two, or a few tired uniforms on the graveyard shift, but here it's just her.

Now that she is home, with nothing to remind her of today's tragedy but a blood-stained uniform, she can't help but wonder if her confession was a good idea. When she said it, she thought he wasn't going to survive. She thought she would never see his handsome face light up as he spun a wild theory or see his eyes darken when her voice got low and her gaze flickered to his lips. She believed that their time had run out. Kate simply needed him to know.

As she tiredly peels off her dirty clothes and changes in yoga pants and a tank top, Beckett cannot stop her heart as is starts to pound, the rhythmic beating throbbing through every cell in her body. A pressure takes residence in her chest as questions fly linger in her mind.

What really happens when he wakes up?

Am I ready for this?

Does he even love me back?

Shaking the insecurities away as best she can, Kate realizes that no matter how much doubt is mounting within her, she finds that she is unable to regret saying it, because in the midst of all of the lies and confusion it's the one thing she knows to be true.

The detective moves to slide into bed, but then she remembers something. Hastily maneuvering to her dresser, she reaches a thin arm back to retrieve an old t-shirt. It's red and far too big for her; meant for no other purpose than sleeping. She 'accidentally' stole it from Castle after staying in his loft after Scott Dunn destroyed her apartment. Lifting it up her face and breathing deeply, her heart flutters and her body relaxes. It still smells like him.

After pulling it over her head, Kate gets under the covers and closes her eyes.

Feeling a little foolish, she lovingly murmurs a few words into the night, "Goodnight, Rick."

. . .

After an hour or so of drifting off to sleep only to be woken by nightmares, Kate realizes that sleep is not really an option and spends the rest of the night trying to picture Castle's arms around her, because her bed suddenly feels far too empty without him.

When her alarm goes off, she is yanked from her light dormancy. Her body feels heavy and when the memories of yesterday come rushing forward, she doesn't even try to stop them from playing behind her eyelids. Forcing herself out of bed, Beckett takes a shower, happy to at least permanently remove the evidence of yesterday from her skin, even though she will never rinse the memory from her mind.

Quickly drying herself off and coercing her chocolate curls into a pony tail, Kate dresses in a blue button down, jeans and heels, barely acknowledging what she's doing. The urge to get to work and find the bastard who shot Castle is overwhelming. As she pulls her coat on and goes to leave, her phone starts to ring. Swiftly pulling it from her pocket, she identifies the caller. The world drifts off for a moment.

"Martha, is-,"

"Kate, get to the hospital as soon as you can. Richard is-,"

Beckett's blood runs cold, the freezing shards of it cutting into her veins, "Is he alright?'

"He's awake."