March, 2011

"You're a doctor," she sighed.

"Babe, I'm a heart surgeon," her boyfriend sighed sympathetically. "Pretty sure that doesn't qualify me to hold your hand through the flu."

"Pretty sure it doesn't, either," she agreed, scowling, and he frowned at her.

"Kate. What do you want from me?"

"I want-" She stopped for a second. She wanted him to take care of her. Hold her hand, run a cool hand over her forehead. Mostly, though, she wanted him to want to do that, and she sighed. "Nothing. I don't want anything, Josh." She shrugged. "I have Tylenol. And water. And there's soup in the fridge, I'll probably heat that up for lunch."

"Okay." He looked relieved. "About your eyes."

"What about my eyes?" she shot back at him.

"They're- Kate, your eyes are bloodshot. Really bloodshot. I think you have pink-eye and that can be really contagious- I have to get going, but if you make it to a pharmacy today, ask for something for that. Some drops. Seriously."

Kate nodded. "Okay." She closed her eyes. Josh was right, there was something wrong; they were really scratchy. Ugh. She would have to hold off wearing eye make-up for a few days, and wash her make-up brushes before she used them again. She considered the growing pile of laundry in the bathroom. Great. Something else to add to her list of chores.

"I'm really sorry," Josh told her. "But I have surgery in an hour. So, I'm going to have to take off, babe." He headed for the door. She trailed after him, nodding. He opened the door to her apartment and stepped out in the hallway. Kate stepped toward him, expecting him to kiss her goodbye, but he just pecked her cheek, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I can't get sick too," he told her. "And pinkeye is the last thing I need before my flight next week- flying when you're sick is the worst."

Kate nodded, watching him make his way down the hallway until he turned to take the stairs rather than the elevator. She sighed. Yeah. Flying when you were sick was the worst. But she thought being home alone sick when your boyfriend was a doctor was pretty high up the list too. Not that she blamed him. Heart surgery trumped the flu and pinkeye; logically, she knew that.

She closed the door behind her, flipping the deadlock with a heavy heart. Kate doubted she was going to make it out of her apartment today, but maybe she could call Castle later, see if he wouldn't mind stopping by a pharmacy and bringing her something for her eyes. Later. She would do that later. Now, though, she would start with another couple of Tylenols, and a glass of water. Maybe it was time to catch up on some Temptation Lane; in spite of the case from the week before, her love for the show hadn't really dissipated

Kate opened her eyes a few hours later, finding herself still on the couch. The television was still on, but Temptation Lane was over. More to the point, the glare from the screen hurt her eyes, so she reached for the remote and switched it off before pulling herself up and closing all the curtains. The room was just too bright.

Kate hated being sick. Hated it. Hated the way her body was betraying her, not allowing her to go into work. She'd made it into the twelfth and as far as the homicide floor yesterday, but Montgomery had spotted her before she'd even flicked her computer on. "Beckett," he'd called. "Go. Home."

"What?" she'd protested, and he'd shrugged, fixing her with his look, and she'd known it was a lost cause.

"How did you even know I was sick?" she'd asked him grudgingly, as she stomped back toward the elevator, and he'd flashed her a smile.

"I know you, Beckett. Now- go home. You're no longer on call and I don't expect to see you back in here before Monday." She'd turned on her heel, mostly relieved that they had wrapped up their latest case, taking a perverse pleasure in sending the paperwork Ryan and Esposito's way.

Kate's eyes stung suddenly. She found herself wanting to blame the pinkeye, but as she dabbed at her cheek, she had to admit to herself that actual tears were making their way down her face. She hated this. The way feeling sick made her feel so vulnerable. The way that watching crappy daytime soaps could simultaneously lift her up and slay her.

She found herself wanting to call Castle. That had been her plan, earlier, to ask him to bring her something for her eyes. Kate reached over to her coffee table where she'd left her cell phone. The battery was dead. Of course. Good thing she wasn't on call, she guessed, forcing herself to stand and walk into her bedroom to plug the phone in beside her bed. She switched it on and scrolled through her contacts, pausing at Castle's name, but ultimately deciding not to press send. Things between them were always so complicated, and she didn't think she could handle complicated right now. Biting her lip, she dialled another number, holding the phone to her ear and listening to the call ring through. Once, twice. Three times. And voicemail. Damn. "Hey, Dad," she started. "It's me. Um… just give me a call when you get a chance." Kate hung up, sinking onto her bed. The eye drops would have to wait.

Kate could barely open her eyes when she woke up the next morning. She wondered idly whether she should call Josh again. He would be out of a long surgery, but still on call. She fumbled for her phone, and forced herself to dial without thinking about it.

"Body?"

Castle answered enthusiastically on the first ring, and Kate smiled. "Hey, Castle. No, no body, I just-" she paused, looking at her watch. It was early, really early. Too early to call Castle if there wasn't a murder. "Sorry," she apologised. "It's early. I'll let you go."

"Beckett" Castle sounded concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sick," she admitted reluctantly. "And I just-" Kate paused again. "It's stupid. I'm okay. Really. Don't worry. It's early, go back to bed."

"I was up," he told her. "I haven't gone to bed- I was writing."

"Oh. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm sorry."

"Kate." This time Castle sounded exasperated. "Stop apologising. I'm coming over. Now, what do you need?"

A/N: Many thanks to the reviewers, favouriters and followers! FWIW, I don't hate either Josh or Will. I just think neither of them prioritised Beckett. I don't think Beckett made Josh a priority either- and we don't know enough about Will and Beckett to know much about their relationship. All we really know is she liked him, but not enough to go to Boston with him. Next chapter is all Caskett! :)