They visited Esposito in the hospital the next morning, slipping in arm in arm past the single guard in the hall. Beckett felt Castles stride stiffen, shortened and uncomfortable, and she chanced a sideways glance at him. His face was pale, the bruising along his jaw turning an ugly bluish purple, and in the half second before he caught her looking at him she saw panic bubbling behind his eyes, claustrophobic and constricting. It was only there for a second, but she'd seen it, and as he covered it in an instant with a soft smile and a hand in the small of her back, he knew she'd seen it too.

Esposito lay in bed, oxygen mask carving into his sallow cheeks as he slept deeply. His nurses had said he'd bled badly, and the complications had come not from the bullet itself, but the massive blood loss. They stood silently next to the bed for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall rhythmically, waiting for a sign of movement. None came. Castle pulled over two chairs and they sat quietly either side of the bed, both feeling the weight of immeasurable guilt dragging at them, lost in their own thoughts that intersected and overlapped the others, keeping watch over their sleeping friend.

Castle sat, gazing into space and picking apart the last week, when his eyes refocused on the here and now. The here and now that morphed into the shape of Beckett, corner of one lip pinched firmly between her teeth as she fought to tamp down the tears that had suddenly rushed her from the sidelines, hidden in her thoughts and doubts and in the back of her mind, all bearing down on her in unison. To break her, to overcome her. Anger mixed with fear, mixed with sadness, with guilt. Hatred. She felt it all, all raw and painful and all so seemingly unfair and unjust. It was supposed to be over. She had let herself be blissfully happy in the fact that it was over. And with sudden clarity she realised that it never had been, not really, and that she was a ticking time bomb that had been reignited. She knew it wouldn't end, and she knew that until Bracken was dead or had killed everyone that she cared about, she would never be safe and this would never be over.

Castle rose, stepping around the bed until he stood behind her, a hand on each shoulder, and suddenly she couldn't be sitting next to Esposito's hospital bed any more. The room was too small, the lights too bright and glaring, the walls closing in on themselves, the sound of the monitors and his breathing like nails on a chalk board that might send her insane if she sat still and let the tide sweep her under. She had never been one for self pity, and it wouldn't do her any good now. She bolted from the room, down the corridor and slammed through the double doors into the car park before she even felt Castle grab her wrist.

"No!" She yelled, snatching herself free. "Castle, just leave me alone …"

"What the hell…" He stared at her slack jawed, hand still in mid air where she had shaken him off.

"Go home."

"No."

"I'm serious, just go…" She turned again and felt the close of his fingers around her wrist. "Get off of me."

"Stop." He held firm, his fingers like cuffs around her wrists.

"Castle, get OFF of me!" She began to shove, to wriggle free, to fight against the claustrophobia and the fear and the hate and the injustice. "Get off of me!" She was sobbing now, shoving and beating at his chest, but the hands held firm.

"Stop…"

"Please." She cried. "Please, before something happens to you, too." Her sobs hitched in her throat and she froze. "I couldn't take that again, Rick, please…"

"No…" He said softly. "Kate… No…" and that was all it took for the fight to leave her body in a wave. Her arms went limp and he folded her into his chest as she wept, bitter stinging tears that burned with hate and fear. "None of this is your fault… You know that."

"This is never ending." She whispered into his shirt. "And it always comes back to me."

"To Bracken." He corrected, the soothing bump of his heartbeat against her cheek. "The common factor is him. You told me that." He unlaced her from his arms and produced a tissue from his jacket. "Thought you might need this."

"Thanks." She coughed a weak laugh and they sank into a bench close by. "You ok in there? You looked a little freaked out when we went in…"

"Oh…" He waved a hand. "I don't like the smell of TCP."

"And…?" She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue. "Oh come on Castle, you don't panic over antiseptic."

"You." He said softly, kicking at a stone with the heel of his shoe.

"Me?"

"It's the same ward you were in when you got shot. I half expected to see…" He shrugged. Stood. "Hakuna Matata." He held a hand out to her and helped her to her feet, hugging her gently and kissing the top of her head. They walked back to Espositos room arm in arm, using each other for support in more ways than each would ever know. A nurse passed them on the way to the front desk, smiled widely at them and checked a chart.

"Your friend's just woken up." She said.