Castle does his best to walk without issue when the elevator doors open onto the homicide floor, keeping his back straight even as his stitches pull and slivers of pain spread from the sewn skin. He ducks his head to avoid detection, hoping no one will approach him before he makes it to Beckett's desk. They all know what happened by now, he's sure of it, and he doesn't want any looks of pity, words of sympathy, or expressions of disappointment. Not like the one Kate had worn in the hospital.
She's hunched over her desk once he finally reaches his chair, gripping it with trembling hands and a breath of relief that signals his arrival.
Kate's head snaps up at the sound, her eyes widening with horror as they travel up to find his face. He tries to smile, like it's nothing out of the ordinary, like it's just another day working a case with her, but the burst of protest already blooming in her eyes tells him it won't be that easy.
"Castle, what the hell are you doing here?" she hisses, slamming her pen down on her desk, but he lifts his right hand – the side of him that still functions without aching – in supplication, attempts to placate her with the gesture.
"I'm working this case with you," he states, leaving no room for argument, but if the tightening in Beckett's jaw is any indication, his determination is not going to be enough to win this one.
"Break room," she growls, standing from her desk and pinning him with a glare that intimidated him once. "Now."
Castle glances down to the chair he's propped against, his bones already groaning at the thought of moving again, and she must notice his prolonged stillness, the preparation time he needs to make it across the bullpen.
"You can't even walk, can you?" she demands, quiet but incredulous, anger so prominent in her voice that he doesn't even have to look up to know her eyes are burning gold with agitation. "Dammit, Castle, you're going to make the wound worse."
He's ready to argue, but Kate's fingers are curling around his right elbow, gentle but supportive, guiding him away from the chair. She leads him to the break room without another word, ignoring the handful of curious glances they earn from officers milling around the homicide floor. They're lucky Ryan and Esposito aren't here - likely out running down another dead end he assumes - he would never live it down.
Kate closes the door behind them and ushers him to a chair pulled out from the table they sometimes use during lunch breaks, tightens her grip on his arm as he eases down into the seat with a wince he can't hide.
"Thank you," he mumbles, but receives nothing but a quick nod in response.
He watches her pace for a few seconds, drifting towards the coffee machine, and he wishes he had brought her coffee. She may be burdened with guilt – both over him and this case – but at least coffee, a piece of their form of normalcy, would have provided a chance to upturn the frown on her lips.
"You have to heal," she starts, turning to face him with her arms folded protectively over her chest. Her face is a hard mask, determined not to let him in, but her eyes plead with him. "You can't just show up the day after being shot and act like everything's fine."
"What's wrong with me just hanging around here?" he questions, searching for cracks in her exterior, for a way to get through to her. Just let me stay, Beckett. "I won't do anymore suspect chasing on this one, but I refuse to just sit around while you work this by yourself."
Her exasperation is tangible, exuding from the tense line of her body in front of him, and he rises from the chair – much to her dismay – shuffles towards her until her back is pressed against the edge of the countertop.
"We're partners and I-"
"Exactly," she snaps, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow. "We're partners and I don't want to… to lose you, especially not like this. Not when I'm supposed to be keeping you safe when we're out there."
"Beckett, it's not your fault," he murmurs, resisting the urge to untangle one of her hands from the cross of her arms, to stroke her knuckles and cradle her fingers as he had for the briefest of moments yesterday morning. Before everything had gone all wrong. "I should have waited on your call, I realize that now. It was my decision to go after him."
"And I let him get away," she mutters, lifting one of her hands to sift through her hair, clutching the nape of her neck as she lowers her eyes to the floor. "You were shot for nothing," she repeats, the words from yesterday holding the same sting, despite their lack of accusation this time.
"I know," he concedes on a sigh. "And now a girl is dead because of me, I'm-"
Beckett jerks, her head already shaking in disagreement. "No, no, not because of you. I shouldn't have said that yesterday, Rick. I didn't mean it. He would have killed her either way." Her hand falls from her neck and reaches forward, cautious in its descent, careful as it approaches his side. Castle doesn't move when her fingers hover over his ribs, over the spot where a bandage is taped over the ripped skin where a bullet tore a path. "He played us. He wanted us to see it, to think we had him, to blame ourselves… we can't let him do that. Can't let him win."
Kate's fingers graze the fabric of his shirt before withdrawing to her side, curling into a fist.
"He won't," Castle affirms, resolve building in his chest, overwhelming the dull fireworks of pain that will likely cease to exist without the medication he purposely left on his bedside table at home. "Kate, I want to talk about the case, about our latest victim. I want to know any and every development made overnight, but there's something you need to know first."
"Castle," she warns, quiet, not enough to stop him.
"I've just been thinking, about the victims, and all the opportunities they'll never have, and about the things in my own life that I don't want to put off anymore."
Knowledge flickers in her eyes as they meet his, trepidation trickling out to spread along the lines of her face. But no fear, no denial either, and that gives him hope and the courage he's been lacking since the summer.
"Can this - can it wait, until after the case?"
"No, because if this case has taught me anything so far, it's that we may not have that long."
Her eyes flood with alarm and okay, maybe he should have presented his reasoning with a little less despair in his tone, but it's true. They've nearly died far too many times in the last four years and just as his mother said, one day he might not be so lucky. The last thing he wants is to look back on his life, on his time with Kate, and feel the regret of things left unsaid. Not anymore.
"Okay," she murmurs, taking a deep breath in preparation and nodding her assent.
"Okay?" he echoes, stepping in close, too close, especially for their workplace, but she doesn't flinch or back away. She holds his gaze.
"Yeah, Castle. There are things I don't want to put off telling you anymore either."
Excitement rushes through his blood, overriding the underlying ache in his side, allowing him to forget the injury completely.
"Okay," he starts again, the smile tentative but tugging at his lips. Contagious, apparently, because her mouth curves upwards in return and his hopefulness reaches new heights. And maybe this is it. Maybe she's finally ready. "Well, I've been thinking that-"
"Ah, Mr. Castle."
He startles, turns too quickly at the sound of Gates' voice in the doorway of the break room, hissing at the twist and spiral of agony that splits down the entirety of his left side.
"Castle," he hears Kate grit out, her hands feathering around him, but not touching, whether in fear of hurting him or showing concern in front of her superior, he isn't sure.
"Shouldn't you be at home? Recovering?" the captain questions, eyeing the two of them with unhidden suspicion.
"Sir," Kate cuts in, slipping away to stand like a blockade between him and Gates' assessing gaze. "Castle was just-"
"I'm fine, Captain," he pipes up before Beckett can have him ordered away. Rick straightens up, grinds his teeth against the reverberating stinging awakened and racing up his side, and takes a steady step forward.
Gates doesn't look the least bit convinced.
"Well, in that case, you seem in well enough to take part in the psychological evaluation I informed Detective Beckett about yesterday evening. I had planned to hold off on the proceedings until you were healed, but if you insist you're good health…" Gates shrugs her shoulders. "I'll get the ball rolling on that, but for now, you two just focus on the case."
Gates flicks her gaze between the two of them once more, lingering on Beckett with a knowing look that sets him on edge, before turning on her heel and exiting the break room.
"Psychological evaluation?" Castle repeats once the captain is striding across the bullpen, back into her office with determination. He turns back to Kate, feels his stomach twist at the pale quality to her skin, the dread unhidden and raging in her dark eyes. "Kate?"
"I chose you over a citizen in need," she whispers, wrapping her arms around her middle. "People in charge took notice of that, Gates took notice of that, and so she's ordering a psychological evaluation. To determine whether or not we're too close to work together anymore."
His stomach drops out, his heart plummeting down along with it. A test to determine whether or not they're too close? Of course they're too close.
He's in love with her.
They're destined to fail.
"This just came in the mail for us," Esposito says, striding back into the bullpen with Ryan in tow.
"Is it connected to the case?" Kate asks, reaching for the large manila envelope in his outstretched hand.
"We're not sure," Ryan answers, doing a double take when he sees Castle sitting in his usual spot next to her desk. "Shouldn't you be at home on bed rest?"
"The guy shot me. It's personal now," he says with a slight lift of his shoulders.
Kate doesn't miss the quick glances that get sent her way as she opens the envelope. She knows what they're thinking, what they would never say out loud.
Just like Beckett.
"And besides," Castle keeps talking. "I want this guy as bad as you do for his crimes against these women. I can't just sit back and not help."
Kate pulls out a small strand of chain links, three of them, from the envelope and holds them up confused.
"Is that all that's in there?" Castle asks.
She sets the chain down on her desk and sticks her hand back in the envelope, fingers curling around a small piece of paper. She pulls it out and reads it aloud.
"Here's your next clue. 24 hours to solve or else another girl will die."
She can feel the tension rising in the room. He's taunting them now, testing them. Raising the stakes impossibly higher as he starts to set deadlines, starts to really put the death of these women on them.
"When did the 24 hours start?" Castle asks. "The moment he sent this or the moment we received it?"
"He wouldn't know when we opened it," Kate rationalizes. "Unless he's watching us."
Her eyes scan around the squad room like she's trying to pick out someone that doesn't belong. But she recognizes everyone she sees; they all belong there. And surely this killer isn't one of their own.
"But when did it get sent?" Esposito asks.
They're all quiet, staring at one another, realizing they don't know how much time they actually have left before he kills again. There is no pattern to his timeframe. The first two murders were hours apart, the third two days after that. He will kill when he decides he wants to, maybe even waiting until he sees them arrive at the landmark to decide that their time is up. They just can't catch a break with this guy.
"So what do the chain links mean?" Ryan asks. "He's keeping the girl somewhere chained up?"
Kate shakes her head. "He's never kept his targets before. It's usually random. The first girl he sees meeting his MO."
"But they've all been at famous landmarks throughout the city," Esposito adds. "Tourist attractions. So where's somewhere that would have chains or a chain link fence?"
"The cast-iron buildings between Lafayette and Broadway?" Ryan suggests with a shrug.
"But what I don't get," Castle starts, interrupting their brainstorming, "is why the 24 hours if he's not already holding a victim? Say we figure it out before then and show up wherever it is. How does that prevent anything if he's not there? Is he just camped out at this landmark and will turn himself in if we catch him?"
Kate taps her index finger against her chin, turning to study their murder board and the lists of landmarks he's already killed at. "You're right, that doesn't make sense. Maybe he's escalating, kidnapping them before he kills."
"Does this mean we have to get SVU involved?" Esposito asks.
"Lanie said she hadn't noticed any signs of sexual assault on the other victims, so unless he's completely changing his game plan I don't think we need to get them involved." She paces in front of the murder board, trying to find a connection between the landmarks he's already chosen. "Other ideas about the chain links?"
"What about the zoo?" Ryan asks. "Bronx or Central Park. The chains could be a symbolic thing representing the caged animals."
She nods, starting to make a list on the blank space of the white board. "Okay, what else?"
"This one might be a stretch, but I want to make sure all of our bases are covered," Castle starts. "Lincoln Center. Because of the links. And there's three of them, forcing one into the center."
"You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but that actually makes sense, Castle," Esposito tells him.
Castle shoots him a gee, thanks look as Kate adds it to the list. She caps the lid onto the whiteboard marker and spins back around to face the boys.
"Okay, let's start with what we have here. Maybe while we're out, something else will come to us. But I don't want to waste more time than is necessary."
"I can keep brainstorming from here," Castle offers. "Call you if anything comes to mind."
Kate glances over at him, but her eyes leave his when she notices a petite blonde headed into Gates's office carrying a briefcase. She wonders if that's the department shrink here to evaluate them. She finds herself wishing that Burke could be the one to give them the psych eval, she has at least become comfortable around him.
"Think she's here for us?" Castle asks, following her gaze.
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, just needing to get out of here. She has leads to chase down, no time to sit around and talk about her feelings with some stranger. Feelings she has for Castle, for her partner.
"We should go," Kate says, turning back to the boys, just needing to leave before Gates summons her to go first. "Call us if you think of something else, Castle."
They're halfway to the elevator when she hears Gates call Castle into her office. The blonde is the shrink. It's starting, the possible beginning of the end. And she doesn't want to be here to watch it crumble before her eyes.
