Unscathed


Chapter 9:

They have a pattern. Alexis stays home in the morning, visits in the afternoon, leaves at night, and ends up back at the hospital with Castle at around 2am. After the third night, Castle broke down and just started bringing the poor kid at about ten.

But tonight, Kate thinks they'll get her to sleep at home. It's Kate's last night in the hospital. She's being discharged tomorrow with a full-leg brace and oral painkillers plus antibiotics. Her stitches come out in the morning, and then she's supposed to start a very heavy regime of moisturizing, scar cream, and gentle movement.

Tonight, Alexis Castle will sleep at home.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kate promises as the girl hovers by her bedside.

Alexis nods and leans into Castle, who stands as a solid, steady wall behind his daughter.

"We'll be here at two," he says, giving her a tight smile.

Kate nods and watches as Castle gently guides the teen out of the room. Alexis looks back over her shoulder at least three times before the door shuts behind them. Kate sighs and leans back into her pillows, scrubbing hand down her face.

She hasn't had time for nightmares. Alexis has appeared every night before hers can even start. But she knows they'll come. Hopefully, it'll be easier at Castle's place, when she can, what? Wake Castle up to go check on Alexis?

Where is she even going to sleep? His room?

She can't very easily climb the stairs like this.

She huddles underneath her blanket and stares at the television, which is mostly static at this point. She's been moved to a single private room, at her request, though Castle insisted he could pay for the double. She sees no reason to deny someone else a bed just so she could have the extra space. The staff was kind enough to provide a second cot for them though, so Castle had somewhere to sleep while Alexis climbed in with her.

There's a knock at the door. "Come in," she calls, feeling weary.

"Hey," Ryan says, popping is head in. Esposito's appears above his and Kate smiles.

"Hey," she offers, waving them in.

"We come bearing snacks," Ryan announces as they step inside.

"Drinkable snacks," Esposito corrects, walking over to place a veritable army of drinkable yogurt, Gatorade, PowerAde, smart water, and protein shakes on her bedside.

"You do know I'm going to Castle's tomorrow, right?" Kate asks, smiling as Esposito sinks into the visitor's chair and Ryan hops up onto the cot on her other side.

"You're supposed to bulk up," Esposito offers, as if that somehow negates their gluttonous display.

"Right," she says, shaking her head.

"How are you?" Ryan asks.

She shrugs. "I can get up now," she offers.

The last time they were here, she was still in traction. Now she can hobble her way to the bathroom and undergo the five minute ordeal of sitting down and standing up to use the bathroom. They're giving her crutches when she goes home.

"Stitches?" Esposito asks.

"The rest come out tomorrow."

"Eighty-seven," Ryan says, nodding at her. "I think you get the trophy for that."

"One hundred and two," she corrects. They both stare at her. "Cheek, chest, side—Castle got a really good plastic surgeon to do them, so there were a lot," she rattles off. Lanie told her. She had no idea. Both of the boys pale and she scrambles to offer something more…positive. "I'm allowed to have really soft food when I go."

Esposito musters a smile. "Gonna let Castle cook for you?"

"Yes," she snips, watching as they both grin at her. "He's cooking for Alexis too, you know."

"But I bet he'll make heart shaped pancakes just for you," Esposito tosses back.

She'd chuck her pillow at him, but that feels like too much effort. She glares instead and both of them laugh.

"He was a wreck, you know?" Ryan offers quietly after a minute. Kate looks over and finds him staring just past her, eyes haunted. "We tried everything. And he just kept insisting we find you."

"We got out," she says, trying to pull him back from it. They didn't find them. They had to save themselves. But they did. And she knows neither she nor Alexis blames any of them for being unable to get to them.

"You know what? The man needed to lose some weight anyway," Esposito decides. Kate snorts and Ryan looks over, scandalized. "What?"

"That's…horrible," Kate decides, unable to stop herself from laughing. It's terrible. Castle looked great before the abduction. He looks…malnourished now, and exhausted, and terrorized. But, yeah, he's lost some weight.

"You're sick, bro," Ryan says, shaking his head.

"Ooh, you know, I bet if we put you guys together, the three of you—you, Castle and Alexis—you'd beat the biggest loser this year."

"Espo!" Ryan exclaims as Kate sinks into her pillows, giggling.

Esposito catches her eye and winks. She can't help but smile. "You're terrible," she manages.

He grins. "I bet he'll gain it all back, fattening you guys up," he continues.

"Espo, shut up," Ryan demands. "Castle's fine."

"Yeah," Kate agrees. "And I bet you guys will be coming to mooch off of those pancakes anyway."

Ryan gives her a smile for that. She loves her boys, irreverent, easily riled, and uncouth as they may be.

"How long are you benched, anyway?" Esposito asks once they've all calmed themselves down.

"At least two weeks," Kate says with a sigh. "And then it's desk duty until I'm cleared by the physical therapist."

"Yikes," Ryan offers, sympathetic. "Can you take the desk time as recovery?"

"Probably," Kate says. She hadn't thought to, but it might be better to be home with the Castles than doing paperwork eight hours a day. "I'll see."

"Not that we don't want you around," Ryan puts in quickly.

Kate smirks.

"We would have found you guys if you'd been there," Esposito says quietly.

Kate glances at him and finds him staring at her cheek. They've removed the bandage and the stitches from that wound. They promised she'd be able to diminish it until it was barely visible. But she knows right now, it's a raised, red line across her face—a very prominent reminder of what she's just been through.

"You guys found us with the tiger."

"Oh, yeah, and the freezer," Ryan puts in.

"Man, you do get yourself trapped a lot, don't you?" Esposito says. She can see him shaking it off.

"I'll work on it," she promises solemnly. The boys smile at her. "So, what's the case this week?"

They both animatedly launch into a tale about two sets of identical twins, one twin murdered on each side. It's funny, they finish each other's sentences. She'll have to point that out to Castle sometime, get in a few jibes of their own.

(…)

She's just fallen asleep when her phone rings. She grunts and manages to grab it, tugging it free from the power cable.

"Hello?" she mumbles into the receiver.

"Kate."

That's…not Alexis, is it? "Hello?" she repeats.

"Kate, I can't—did Rick go to see you?"

Meredith. It's Meredith. And that's…Alexis crying in the background.

"No," Kate manages, rubbing at her eyes. "No, he's not here. He's not there?"

"He was," Meredith says, her voice tight and high, verging on hysterical.

"What's wrong?"

"Alexis is—she woke up, and she's been screaming, and I can't—she won't let me touch her, and Richard's been getting up with her, but I can't find him."

"Okay," Kate says, trying to figure it out in her head. He's been taking walks, that much she knows. She's woken up enough times to spot him pacing in the corridor outside of her room. "Okay, give Alexis the phone and call him on another one? He's probably on the roof or something."

"The roof," Meredith whispers. "Okay. Alexis, sweetheart."

The crying gets louder and louder until Kate can hear every harried breath and sniffle. "Alexis," she says loudly. "Meredith, put me on speaker phone."

There's a click and she can hear more—the sound of Meredith sitting down on the bed as Alexis sobs.

"Sweetheart, Kate's on the phone."

"Kate," Alexis lets out.

"Hi, honey," Kate says, rapidly feeling like pushing the kid to sleep at home was a monumental mistake.

"Kate," Alexis repeats.

"I'm going to go get dad, okay?" she hears Meredith say.

Alexis doesn't even seem to acknowledge it, but Kate can hear Meredith walking away.

"Hey," Kate tries. "Alexis, you're okay."

"Where are you?" Alexis asks immediately.

"I'm at the hospital," Kate replies slowly. Perhaps she's not quite awake yet. "You saw me just a few hours ago. I'm fine."

"No," Alexis insists. "Tyson—"

"Alexis, I'm going to Facetime you, okay?" Kate presses the button. "Accept the invitation."

It takes a moment, but Alexis appears through her phone, the poor girl's face red and splotchy, hair sprawling out where she's been pulling on it.

"Can you see me?" Kate asks, turning on one of the lights and squinting. They've removed the light covers, but her eyes still haven't quite adjusted yet. "Alexis, sweetheart. Can you see me?"

"Yeah," Alexis mumbles.

"Okay, look." She turns the phone away to show the girl her room, the TV, the window. "I'm in the hospital."

"Yeah," Alexis agrees, her face rapidly growing aware, and then ashamed. "Sorry, Kate. I'll—"

"Hey, hey," Kate says quickly. "It's okay."

Alexis just stares at her, sucking in air as she tries to calm down. "I just," she says.

"I know." Kate offers her a tired smile. "I know. But you're okay, and I'm okay. Sometimes you just have to see it. It'll be easier tomorrow."

"Yeah," Alexis agrees. "Oh, crap."

"What?" Kate wonders.

Castle comes crashing into the room, nearly falling over Alexis as he trips just before her bed. There's a oof from both of them and then Castle's face appears next to Alexis'.

"Hey, Beckett," he offers, his eyes shifty, cheeks a little pink.

"Morning, Castle," Kate says easily. "Out for a walk?"

"Yeah, never doing that again," he says, turning to kiss Alexis' head. "You okay, pumpkin?"

"Yeah," Alexis mumbles. "Sorry."

"No, no." "Honey." "Alexis."

The girl looks from the phone, to Castle, to the doorway, where Meredith must be standing. She blushes and turns her face into Castle's shoulder.

"I'm going to go back to sleep," Kate hears Meredith say. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, mom," Alexis says.

Kate hears the door close and forces herself to keep smiling. She—well, she shouldn't judge. But she does. Meredith should have stayed, cuddled her kid up.

"So, Beckett. What have you done in our absence?" Castle asks, squishing around until Alexis lets him slip into her bed. She watches in amusement as Alexis continues to flush while Castle snuggles in, grabbing a slightly mangled sock monkey, looking for all the world like they're about to have digital slumber party.

Even so, Kate can see the worry in his eyes, notes the way he's holding Alexis a little too close, a little too hard. But the girl doesn't object, just relaxes against his chest. She reaches out and takes the monkey while Castle holds the phone.

"Ryan and Esposito stopped by," Kate provides.

"Nice," Castle offers. "We watched a few movies, and this one fell asleep on me."

"Dad," Alexis protests.

"I am a great pillow," he says. "Tell Kate I'm a great pillow."

"M'sure she'll find out for herself," Alexis mumbles.

Castle meets her eyes and Kate offers him a shy smile. He grins and she rolls her eyes.

"Empirical evidence can be best," he decides.

"Oh, pad your ego another night, Castle," Kate says.

"With pleasure."

"Gross, dad," Alexis says, looking at Kate. "Don't encourage him."

"Hey," she protests. "He's the one who—we're not gonna win a lot are we?" she asks Castle.

He shakes his head. "Afraid not."

"Hmm," Kate offers, covering a yawn.

"Sorry," Alexis whispers.

"No," both she and Castle say immediately.

"I'm tired all the time," Kate says quickly. "And I haven't even been asleep yet."

Alexis squints at her. "Liar."

"You know what? I woke you up for weeks," Kate says gently. "This is fair play. Don't apologize for having night terrors."

"Is that what they are?" Alexis asks.

"Probably," Kate agrees.

"Did you have them?"

Kate glances at Castle, then sighs. "I sometimes still do. I did, I mean. It's normal…after."

"What did you do to get over them?" Alexis asks, relaxing into Castle's side, probably far too tired to realize how horrified her father looks.

"Saw a therapist, slept with the lights on, and," Kate pauses. She'd meant to tell Castle all of this at some point anyway. "And stared at a picture of your dad a lot."

"What?" Castle lets out, unable to stop himself.

"I didn't call, but I wanted to," she admits.

"Oh," he and Alexis say together.

"So you call me anytime you need to, okay?" Kate continues, forcing herself to focus on the traumatized teenager, not her…Castle. "Easier with two. Or three," she corrects.

"Okay," Alexis whispers, fading against Castle's chest.

They watch as the teen slowly falls asleep. Castle looks into the phone and offers her a tired smile.

"Crisis averted," he whispers.

"Can you sleep like that?" she wonders.

He nods. "Her bed is comfortable. You okay?"

"Yeah," Kate says, watching the way his eyes crinkle with a tired smile. "Looking forward to getting out of here."

He nods. "Me too."

"See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," he agrees.

"Call if she needs anything," Kate adds before he moves to disconnect.

"You too," he says, looking serious for a moment. "You can hit the call button this time."

Kate feels her own cheeks flushing but forces herself to meet his eyes through the phone. "I promise."

He smiles and cuts off the call. She sets down her phone and leans back in the bed, staring at the ceiling.

This time will be different.

(…)

"Castle, I'm going to hurt you if you fall," she says as she shuffles her way out of his elevator.

She's a bit unsteady on the crutches. Moving half of her weight with metal sticks isn't her forte. But Castle is definitely going to trip over himself and send them all back to the hospital if he doesn't start walking forward.

"Fine," he huffs, turning to unlock the loft door. "I still say we should have brought you up in a wheelchair."

"It hurts more," Kate protests, rolling her eyes as Alexis appears behind her, carrying her bag. "And you shouldn't be carrying that."

"I'm fine," Alexis stresses, moving past her to walk into the foyer of the loft.

Kate takes a deep breath and crutches her way inside, surprised to find that the place looks exactly the same. She's not sure why she thought it would be different.

"Couch?" Castle offers.

She could easily lie down and go straight to sleep, but it's only four.

"Yeah," she agrees, withholding a sigh as he guides her over to the couch, like she couldn't have gotten there herself. It's a good thing she loves him, or she'd have whacked him with her crutches already.

"Man, kidnapping and a lengthy hospital stay has not dulled your glare," he says as he helps her recline onto the lounger portion of his ridiculously comfortable couch.

"I would laugh, but I'm too exhausted," she says.

He just smiles and takes the crutches from her, leaning them up against the table behind the couch. He squeezes her foot. "Something to drink?"

"The thickest milkshake known to man?" she asks, batting her eyes.

He laughs and nods, bending down to kiss her head before wandering into the kitchen. She lets out a breath, then clutches at her chest as Alexis plops down next to her.

"God, don't do that," she chides.

"If you're too googly eyed to pay attention, not my fault," Alexis says, curling up next to her. "I put your stuff in dad's room."

"Okay," Kate manages. So she is sleeping in his room.

With him?

"Do you want more meds?" Alexis asks.

"What?"

"Your head got all scrunchy. Pain?"

"Oh, no," she says, reaching out to squeeze the kid's hand. "Just tired."

Alexis nods and flicks on the TV. Or, well, the shower curtain. How had she missed that?

"Dad set it up yesterday, since he figures we'll be spending a lot of time on this couch."

Kate smiles. "Smart man. Where's your mom?"

Alexis shrugs. "She had to go back to LA for a shoot."

Kate stares at her. "Oh." Her daughter has just been released from the hospital after a three week abduction, and she has to go back for a shoot?

"It's fine," Alexis says, glancing at her. "Temptation Lane?"

Kate blinks. "Sure. Yeah."

Alexis smiles and settles into the couch, clicking the remote and bringing up the Castle DVR menu. True to her word, it looks like every episode of Temptation Lane, ever, is saved on their machine.

"From the top?" Alexis asks.

"Yeah," Kate agrees, reaching out to pull the kid into her side.

Alexis sighs quietly and snuggles closer, clicking to start the first episode. Kate cards her fingers through Alexis' hair, taking in the sounds of the loft—Castle using the blender in the kitchen, the central air, Alexis' soft breathing against her shoulder. How could anyone walk away from this, from them?

(…)

"I'm right downstairs," Kate says, holding Alexis' hands as they stand together at the bottom of the stairs. "You wake up, you just come get me okay?"

"Okay," Alexis whispers. "I'm sorry," she adds.

"Don't be sorry."

"I just—I feel so silly," she admits, squeezing Kate's hands.

"It's not silly at all. It'll get better. And now you don't need to take a twenty minute cab ride."

Alexis nods. "Okay. Goodnight, Kate."

"Goodnight," she says, smiling as Alexis turns and walks up the stairs.

She revolves slowly and finds Castle leaning against the doorjamb. She crutches her way to his side and looks up at him, surprised suddenly by the height difference. He smiles and brushes a stray hair from her face.

"Think she'll be okay?"

Kate shrugs. "I don't know. How have you been checking on her?"

"I've been going up every couple of hours. But I put a baby monitor in there earlier."

Kate raises an eyebrow. "Does she know?"

He shakes his head. "I'll tell her, but I thought she might be embarrassed in front of you."

Kate sighs. "She shouldn't be."

He nods and steps in, kissing her cheek. "Come on."

She lets him usher her toward his room, the two of them moving slowly as she gets used to the crutches. She knows how to use them, has had enough sprained ankles over the years to be a pro, but she can't move her left leg at all, and it's throwing off her balance.

He leads her into the room and she stops in the doorway, staring around. There's a large, intimidating photo of a lion against one wall, the bed in the center of the room, with a masculine, but inviting-looking comforter set. Both side tables have multiple pictures of Alexis on them, and his bureau is covered with more. She smiles as she spots one of herself. She wonders idly if he put that back up recently, or if it survived their…rough patch.

"I can—" he starts.

"It's great," she offers, smiling at him. She wobbles a bit on the crutches and huffs. He gives her a quizzical look as she makes her way to the bed and manages to sink down onto it, sitting on the edge.

"What?" he asks, walking over to sit down next to her.

"Not exactly how I imagined seeing it for the first time," she admits.

He laughs. "Yeah. Me neither."

"Do over, when I can walk?"

He meets her eyes and she turns to look at him and smiles. "You're on."

She leans as much as she can and he meets her halfway, their lips colliding in a gentle kiss that is so far from what she wants it to be—so far from what she's hoped would happen on this bed the first time she saw it.

He pulls back after a long minute and rubs gently at the base of her spine, careful to keep his hand low.

"Are you," he begins, then stops.

She waits, but he seems to be battling with something. When it seems no words are forthcoming, she squeezes his knee. "Could you help me to the bathroom?"

"Yeah," he says, standing immediately. "Crutches?"

She shakes her head. "Help me lean? They take up space."

He laughs but obliges. "Don't think it'll be an issue."

She's about to ask why, but he pushes the bathroom door open and she loses her words. It's huge. Warm sand tiles and gentle yellow lights—the bathroom is the most inviting place she's ever seen. It has a dual-headed walk-in shower, a deep Jacuzzi tub, lighted mirror, two sinks, and what looks to be an expensive toilet. There are pictures of the Manhattan skyline on the walls and incredible-looking robes hanging by the shower with soft, terry cloth towels.

"Wow," she manages, turning to look up at him.

He's blushing. Funny, she always thought he'd be smug about his home. "Good?" he asks, genuine.

She offers him a real smile. "It's fantastic, Castle."

He ducks his head and smiles. "I set out most of your stuff. I hope you don't mind," he adds, gesturing to the sink to the right, less occupied, but now playing home to all of her usual personal-care products. "And I got your shampoo and conditioner into the shower. I don't—how are you bathing right now?"

She blushes but meets his eyes. "Showers. Short, short showers."

He nods. "Do you want to take one?"

She shakes her head. "I took one this morning. But I'll get ready. Could you grab my bag?"

"Sure."

He leaves her then, making sure she's got her hands on the counter to support herself before ducking into the bedroom. She meets the eyes of her reflection in the enormous lighted mirror and sighs.

The bags under her eyes only accentuate the sharper angles of her face, the cut on her cheek a raised, pink line that stands out against her abnormally pale skin. Her hair seems duller, and she can see that she's swimming in the simple blouse Lanie brought her to wear home.

She looks terrible.

This is just not how she planned to look in this bathroom for the first time. Ravaged, yes. Disheveled, yes. But starved, beaten, and bloodied? No.

"Here you go," Castle says softly, extending a pair of pajamas to her. "I can get you others. I just thought these would be—"

"Thanks," she says, smiling at him. He's brought her a pair of shorts and one of his button-downs.

"Thought buttons would be easier than a tee shirt."

She nods. "Thank you."

He smiles and ducks back out, closing the door behind him. Kate sighs and places the clothes between the two sinks. She washes her face and combs through her hair before braiding it back with heavy arms. She brushes her teeth, wincing at the stinging feeling of the toothpaste. Her mouth is still tender.

She stares herself down and forces her hands to the hem of her blouse, pulls it gently over her head. She keeps her eyes closed as she turns back to the mirror. Then, with force, she opens them.

She gasps. She hasn't seen the marks yet.

Her bullet wound is still an angry red, even without the stitches, the circle nearly twice as large as before. Her incision site is a raised, wide line. Her stomach is marred with shallow, healing cuts and scabs—wounds that needed no stitches, just cleaning.

It looks like someone took a knife to her. And someone did.

She breathes through her nose, forcing her eyes over every cut, taking note, making memory of them. Hopefully, she can get the ones on her stomach to fade. The 'J' on her hip will never fade completely. Maybe she should get a tattoo over it, to match the one on her other hip.

She steels herself, but it still takes her at least a minute to turn around. She shuts her eyes tight and swallows before opening them and turning her neck.

"Oh god," she lets out, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

There on her back sit twenty lines in two vertical rows, running from just below her shoulder blades to the middle of her back: two sets of ten marks, the fifth day cut into her flesh as a diagonal.

Her tally marks.

She realizes she's crying only when the door to the bathroom creaks open.

"Kate?"

She shudders, her hand pressed to her mouth, her other wrapped around her abdomen, no longer even looking at the cuts.

It hits with startling force—what she's been through. What he did to her. How she had to let him and let him because there was a knife and a gun and she was never sure she could protect them from both. So she took the knife. Again. And again. And again.

"Kate," Castle begs.

She manages a sound, something like a grunt of acceptance and hears him enter. She doesn't care that she's topless. Doesn't care that she's in his bathroom for the first time. Doesn't care that he should be spreading her out on his bed, his lips making marks against her skin.

Instead she's been slashed, knifed, wounded. And those are scars she knows she cannot fade into oblivion.

"Beckett," he breathes out.

She feels his hand on her shoulder and shudders. His fingers trail on her hip and she feels his forehead hitting the back of her head, resting there, the two of them turned from the mirror, his hands suddenly all that's keeping her standing.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

She shakes her head and straightens, feeling him there at her back. "Not your fault," she manages, pulling herself together just slightly.

This won't be the last time she cries. She knows this. He's seen what's been done to her. He knows. She can cry. She just doesn't have the energy to completely fall apart.

"Can you help?" she asks, sniffling as she reaches out for the steroid cream they gave her to finish reducing the swelling and help her skin begin to heal.

"Sure," he says, taking it from her and gently turning her so she can brace herself against the counter. "Tell me if it hurts."

She nods and lets her neck drop, unable to watch his face as he does this, unable to watch the glimpses of him, whatever expression he wears.

His fingers are soft, and she finds herself crying again. She hasn't felt anyone touch her back since Tyson. The hospital was full of anesthesia and cotton balls and cue tips.

Castle's fingers are gentle and reverent, careful.

"Okay?" he asks when he's finished the first row.

"Yeah," she mumbles. "Oh, Castle, wait."

He stills behind her and she shakes her head.

"No, no. Your shirt. I can't wear your shirt. I'll ruin it."

She does look into the mirror this time and finds him regarding her strangely, halfway between a frown and a sad sort of smile.

"I don't care," he says gently. "Really."

"At least give me an old one? I like this one," she adds, glancing at the deep purple shirt he'd grabbed for her.

"Okay," he agrees, his smile blooming before he turns back to the task at hand and smoothes the cream over her second row of marks. "Do you need it on," he starts, before pausing.

"Oh," she mumbles, watching the way his eyes are settled on her bullet wound. "Yeah," she says after a moment. "I can."

He shakes his head and turns her slowly. She can do this for herself. She knows she can. But there's something in the way he's staring at her chest, in the lost quality behind his eyes that forces her to let him.

He bends his head and rests his forehead on hers as he gently rubs the cream between her breasts. His breath is warm against her nose. He keeps her close as he moves on to her incision site, as he smoothes the cream over her stomach and the mark at her hip.

She sighs as he caps the bottle and kisses her forehead. "I'm so sorry," he repeats, pulling back to meet her eyes as he cups her face in his hands. He rubs the last of the cream across her cheek with a gentle brush of his thumb.

Kate closes her eyes and shakes her head. She blinks them open and finds him just staring at her.

"I'd do it again," she says, her voice rough to her ears. "I didn't want this for Alexis."

He huffs at her and she watches as a tear falls down his cheek. "I didn't want this for you," he offers.

She smiles sadly and reaches up to wipe her thumb beneath his eye. "I know," she says.

He bends then and presses their lips together. It's desperate and short, and she misses him as he pulls back.

"I love you," he says, staring into her eyes. "I'll get you a better shirt."

She nods and watches as he leaves the room, his steps unsteady. She breathes out and reaches for the shorts before stopping. Right, she's wearing sweats one of the nurses helped her slide on.

So many things she never wanted to have Castle do. He's supposed to take her pants off, not help her get them on.

She manages to hobble over to the side of the tub and lower herself down, manages to unstrap the brace, careful to keep as still as she can, her core held tight. They told her to make sure she does sit for a bit each day with her leg bent, so she doesn't unwittingly weaken her knee while trying to heal her hip.

She reaches out and grabs a towel, lifting up with a grunt to slide off her sweats. She shouldn't have done this herself. God, that hurts. She covers herself with the towel and kicks the sweats away with her good leg just as Castle walks in. He stops in the doorway and stares at her, holding an old, short-sleeved button down.

"Need help?" he manages after a moment.

She is, after all, sitting naked on his tub with a towel covering her groin.

"Yeah," she admits.

He smiles shallowly at that and brings her clothes over. He kneels down and helps her slide her legs into the shorts before pulling them up her legs until she can shimmy them up beneath the towel. She hisses as the movement stretches her hip and abdomen.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," she gets out. "Shirt?"

He nods and helps her slip her arms into it before doing up some of the buttons. He stays crouched in front of her as he slides the towel off of her lap. She keeps her eyes averted, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Want me to strip for you? Make it even?"

She laughs, startled, and meets his eyes to find him smiling at her. "Maybe later," she says.

He nods and slips her brace back around her leg, doing up the clasps with deft fingers before standing and extending his hands. They make their way back to his bed and he helps her slide under the covers.

She sinks into the mattress, her head nearly disappearing into the pillow. She groans in approval and he laughs.

"Good?"

"Don't tell me how much this costs," she says, reveling in the softness of the blankets, the pillows, the impossible mattress.

She has a very nice bed at her apartment. It doesn't feel like this.

"Why?" he asks, laughing.

"Because I'm making an educated guess that it's a year of my salary, and it will end my faith in humanity." She peeks an eye open and finds him just staring at her. "Too dramatic?"

"I think you're catching…me," he says by way of reply, grinning. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water?" she asks, propping herself up a little, so she can see over the mound of the bed.

He nods and disappears, leaving her to stare up at his ceiling. She feels at once at home and distinctly foreign. For the last month, she's known nothing but the hard, cement floor of Tyson's basement, and the scratchy, stiff hospital bed of their release.

She feels like she should want to be home, where everything is familiar—where everything is a known, safe entity. And yet, lying in Castle's disgustingly comfortable bed, she feels just as safe, just as comfortable. Awkward, yes, but safe.

"Here you go."

She blinks and smiles up at him as he appears at her bedside, passing her a large glass of water and one of her pain pills. Right, she forgot to take one. She feels her heart lift at that. A week out from her shooting she couldn't have survived a single minute without the pain meds.

"Thanks," she says, before swallowing the pill and gulping back most of the glass. Make sure you drink at least a full glass of water with those pills.

He takes the glass from her and sets it on the bedside. She watches as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.

"Castle?" she prompts.

"Um," he manages. "I—" He rubs at the back of his neck. "Would you like me to sleep in the guest room?"

She just gapes at him.

"I mean," he says quickly. "I mean, I just—well, you're hurt, and I don't know if you want someone sharing your bed. My bed, but it's your bed for right now. And this would be so much less awkward if we'd already—well, I mean, you can't, right now, of course. I just, um."

She holds up a hand, her other covering her mouth to stop the laughter from pouring out. Poor guy. He's really cute when he's rambling, and she chooses to focus on that, rather than his insecurity. Because that—that is her fault.

"Castle, I've been sharing a bed…of sorts with Alexis for the past month." He gives her a sheepish look for that. "This is your room. If it bothers you, we can set me up in the guest room."

"No," he says quickly, just like she planned. "No, no, I can…I can stay here."

She smiles. "Okay."

"Okay," he agrees. "Um, so—" he points toward the bathroom and she waves him away, before turning her face and blushing into her pillow. This would be so much less awkward if we'd already…

She can't quite muster the energy to want to tonight, but yeah, he has a point. If they'd just, well, if she'd just gotten over herself and screwed her courage a little earlier, she could have screwed…

Maybe it's best not to think on it now.

He reappears from the bathroom in a tee shirt and a pair of boxers, his hair a little mussed. She watches as he hesitantly moves around the room, turning off all but his bedside lamp before crawling into bed with her. He flicks a baby monitor on on his nightstand then slips down under the blankets.

She can feel the heat of him next to her in the bed as they lie on their backs. Well, she has to, and she figures he'll sleep that way in solidarity. Unless he usually sleeps that way.

There's so much she just doesn't know about the man sharing his bed with her. So much she wants to learn, and not like this.

She listens as he breathes beside her, listens to the soft sounds of the loft around them, the traffic outside, the light susurrations of Alexis breathing up in her room. Her eyes are heavy, but her mind is wide awake, everything so new and comfortable at once. She inches her hand across the bed, needing an anchor, something familiar.

His hand wraps around hers, their fingers threading together, and she smiles.

"Hey, Kate."

"Yeah?" she whispers, turning her head to look at his profile only to find him staring back at her.

"I'm really glad you got out."

She smiles, a short laugh bursting from her lips. "Me too, Castle."

He brings their hands to his lips and kisses her fingertips before settling back. She falls asleep with his fingers strong between hers, his thumb brushing patterns on the back of her palm.