Kate feels like only mere minutes have passed since she reached a deep sleep when she's awakened by a noise in the next room. She can hear Castle thrashing around in bed distressed. She hears him crying out, his voice is hoarse as he says, "No! No!" over and over again.
Trying not to panic herself, she flings the sheets off of her and runs into his room. Wasting no time she doesn't bother to knock and as she enters, she hears a bang followed by the sound of glass shattering on the wood floor.
"Rick," she breathes out, rounding the bed to come to his side. "Wake up. It's just a dream, it's just a dream." Kate tries to keep her voice soft and soothing as she takes a step closer to sit at his side and feels the stab of something slice into the soft flesh of her foot.
She grits her teeth at the unexpected pain, but keeps her focus on Castle. She reaches for his forearm, the one not bound by a cast, to try and stop him from flailing around in the bed. She tries to get through to him again, "Castle, wake up for me."
His eyes burst open at her touch. His chest is heaving and he appears to be working twice as hard as normal to get air into his lungs. Droplets of sweat have formed on his forehead and his hair is disheveled from his harsh movements on the pillow.
"Beckett," he rasps, immediately taking hold of the arm she has stretched out to him and clinging to it for a moment as he comes into consciousness.
"You were having a nightmare. It's ok, you're ok."
Castle's voice is low and breathy as he speaks again, "She was dying and I couldn't help her. Beckett, I tried. I tried so hard to get to her but my body gave out and I couldn't... I keep seeing her face. It was...it was happening all over again. She was so little and had these blonde curls…"
Kate watches him zone out in thought. Compassion blooms in her heart for what he is going through. He looks haunted as he remembers the horrible tragedy, fixing his eyes to a dark corner of his bedroom. The light coming in from the hallway is the only illumination that is provided to them. It only allows her to see a sliver of reflection from the tears swelling up in his eyes.
"It's my fault. It's my fault that she's dead."
"No, Castle. It was an accident."
"It was my fault Beckett!" His volume is louder and angry, at her or himself she's not sure. "I wasn't even paying attention. I didn't even realize the car was swerving into my lane."
He shakes her arm off of him as he continues, finally looking her in the eye. She sees regret written all over his face.
"You wanna know what I was thinking about?" He asks coldly, rhetorically, and she knows better than to answer, waits silently for him to continue.
"You. I was thinking about you. About how you hurt me. About that voicemail you left me. I was trying to decide how crazy-just how self-destructive it would be for me to call you back. That's what I was thinking about when it happened. And now there is a real casualty that has come out of the mess that we made."
She's silent in shock; feels as if she has been slapped in the face, though he would never lay a hand on her. Their eyes are locked together and though she tries, though she knows that his words are fueled by the nightmare and guilt about the accident, she can't stop the hot tears that roll down her face.
Kate finds herself wringing her hands together, feeling so vulnerable as she stares down at them in her lap. Suddenly the way he's kept his distance since she got her, his anger with her makes sense. He had a right to be upset before and she knows she hurt him at the loft and even after...but if he had her mixed up in his mind with guilt over this accident it explains why he won't open up to even the idea of talking about them.
Her emotions were running high and so were his.
Her lip trembles as she finally speaks, "I'm sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry, about everything. I've been trying to tell you, to make it up to you after what happened, after that day at the loft. I was wrong about so many things." She's just getting started, wants to tell him all she has been keeping inside but he's not hearing her. The events of the past moments still too raw.
"You know what, I can't do this now," he says laying back down on his pillow in frustration. "I appreciate you being willing to stay and help me but, maybe this was a bad idea," he says.
"At least let me tell you what the follow-up police report said. About the accident," she counters in an attempt to extend an olive branch, a peace offering and some middle ground in this mess they had made.
He takes it.
"You mean there was more than the initial report?" Rick asks rising again from his pillow to sit as best he can.
"Yes, there was a follow-up with information from the hospital. I knew that you would want to know when you were ready. Castle, the accident wasn't your fault." She hears him huff in denial but continues on anyways.
"The girl's father, who was driving the car had a seizure. Rick, he has a rare undiagnosed medical condition. It caused him to temporarily lose consciousness. That is what caused him to swerve into your lane. His wife tried to grab the wheel, overcompensated. What happened was tragic and horrible but you need to know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault."
She didn't tell him to make her look better, or to lessen her guilt, but to lessen his. Knowing Castle he would have carried this burden around with him the rest of his life, and still may in some ways. He deserved to know that there was nothing he could have done.
After a long pause he seems calmer. He audibly swallows before saying, "I...thank you, for finding that out. For telling me."
"Of course. Always." She finds his eyes with hers, meaning not just brimming but overflowing with what she lets him see in her.
"So, I'm going to go get a broom and clean up this glass," she says motioning to the floor.
It's then he breaks his gaze, looks down only now realizing he had knocked over his water glass in the midst of his nightmare.
Kate groans as she puts weight on her foot and feels a sharp pain radiate through it. She must have stepped on a shard of the glass in her haste to reach Castle.
"Are you ok?" He inquires gently, and it is the closest tone to caring that she's heard in his voice in a long time.
"I'm fine, I'll just clean up in the bathroom," she goes to stand again but he places a hand on her arm and she stops in her place.
"Wait, I basically have a whole medicine cabinet right here."
"It's fine I can-"
"Beckett, just sit." He says softly and so she does.
Once he's satisfied she won't leave, he shifts over to the nightstand, turns on the small lamp and reaches for the Tupperware container filled with supplies.
"Alexis is very thorough. She made this kit up for me before she left. There is a little of everything in here," he says as he sifts through the box, lifting items and displacing them until he finds what he needs. Band-aids and alcohol wipes in hand he smiles triumphantly for just a flash of a moment before the smile disappears again.
"Give me your foot."
"Castle, I'm supposed to be taking care of you," she says in hesitation.
"Well then, you better stop getting hurt." He makes a motion with his hand, a come on wave and waits until she lifts her leg and places it next to his body on the bed, leaving her foot where he can reach it.
He inspects it with his good hand, and then reaches back into his magic supply box and procures a tweezers.
She watches him with tender eyes as he works on her foot. She takes advantage of the fact that he's looking away and she takes what feels like a forbidden moment to study his face. She notices the tired lines around the blue eyes she's always been drawn to, the stubble that has begun to pepper in along his jaw, the pierce of his lips as he focuses on retrieving the glass.
"Ow!" She jumps, shaken out of her perusal of him as the tweezers grasp the wayward glass.
"Sorry," he says sincerely. "I got it out. Let me just clean it and put the band-aid on." He's quiet then as he finishes and Kate soaks up the unexpected intimacy of his warm hand on her skin. Of him taking care of her with such kindness.
"All good," he says smoothing out and securing the last flap of the bandage.
"Thank you. I'll just go get the broom." She checks below her before stepping down on the floor, but glass is everywhere.
"Maybe I'll just go this way," she points to the other side of the bed. "Is it ok if I.." she says, motioning her hand over his feet, looking for permission to go over them. She feels awkward even asking but doesn't want to risk more cuts.
"Yeah, no, sure. I mean of course." He says feeling the strange tension between them as she carefully climbs across the end of the bed and he pulls his feet in towards his body to give her room until she is able to make it to the safe side of the bed. At another time the situation would have been humorous.
She makes quick work of cleaning the glass and bringing him a fresh cup of water and another pain pill.
"So, just let me know if you need anything. Anything at all," she says, still standing in his doorframe.
"I will. Good night, Kate."
Kate, he called her Kate. It's amazing how something so simple is the cause of the butterflies that have suddenly taken up residence in her stomach. They have so much more to talk about, so much she wants to say but this is the first time since that day in the loft she feels like they took a step forward.
She waits until he turns off the lamp on the nightstand before responding "Good night," and making her way back to her room.
