A Season in Hell

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Beckett checked her phone as she got out of her car, then leaned back in to flip the dash computer off, hoping just to keep the console in shadows. She shouldn't have brought the precinct's car to the hospital, not after the new Captain ripped into her whole squad for 'misuse of resources', but she had so little time lately.

They'd caught a case, and she had maybe two hours to visit before she had to go back and wheedle information from weekend-shift employees who had no authority to pull records or answer questions.

Wonderful.

Becket scraped her hair back and turned off her phone as she rounded the corner, moving up the wheelchair ramp towards the side doors. With her phone dark and not vibrating notifications every five seconds, her shoulders began to loosen and she quickened her gait.

Inside the cool air conditioning of the hospital, she checked the brilliant interactive menu screens - habit, that was all; she knew exactly where Castle was - and she moved to the bank of elevators. She pushed the call button and rolled her head on her neck, shivering as a gust of cool air swirled down from the vents.

The elevator opened and Beckett stepped on, pushing the number for Castle's floor. She leaned against the chrome panel and closed her eyes, letting the jerk and sway of the creaking old elevator carry her away from the Twelfth and its snarl of entanglements.

Castle.

Finally.

She took a breath in slowly and straightened; she had timed it just right because the doors opened onto his floor and she walked out - with some serenity at least.

His doctor was standing at the nurses' station before a computer, hen-pecking his notes into the terminal. When she spotted him, Beckett switched direction, hoping to seize an opportunity. But one of the nurses must have warned him (and yes, Beckett knew she was being paranoid), because he entered one last keystroke and disappeared around the corner.

Beckett growled and moved to follow him, intending on getting answers about Castle's pain medication, but when she came into the hall, he was gone. There was a closed door marked Employees Only and he must have gone through there. Stymied.

She scraped a hand through her hair and pivoted on her heel, going back to the nurses' station. She approached the male nurse sitting behind the desk and interrupted his work with a polite clearing of her throat.

He glanced up, gave a forced smile. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, please. I'm Detective Beckett. My partner is in Room 547? Richard Castle."

"Nice to meet you, Detective. I heard there was an investigation. Did you-"

"I appreciate your interest, but I'm having trouble tracking down Dr. Smithers. When you see him again, can you tell him I'd like to talk to him about Richard Castle's pain management?"

"Dr. Smithers is on rounds right now," the man explained. As if that could explain. But no, it didn't explain anything.

"All right," she said carefully, pulling out one of her cards from the back of her phone case. "Can you have Dr. Smithers call me if I'm not in the room when he comes around?"

"Call you." The nurse dutifully, if reluctantly, took the card.

"Richard Castle," she said again. "His mother is his health care agent while he's unconscious, but he has been conscious - which makes it hard to get with the doctor and make good decisions. He's been very confused. And the medicine is only keeping him that way-"

"Look, I'll tell him you want to talk. But I can't change or alter his prescribed pain medication."

"No, I'm not asking you to do that," she said, letting out a breath. "We just need to have a conversation. His mother and the pain management specialist, the internist, and the surgeon. Please let them know. This needs to be done. Also..." Beckett gritted her teeth, forced it out. "The officers stationed outside his room have been pulled."

The nurse had the grace to look surprised, but he smoothed that over quickly. "Did you find the man who shot-"

"No." Beckett stood up straighter, chafing at all the lost time standing here talking to a nurse who couldn't help. "No. But resources are - being re-allocated. Please have Dr. Smithers contact me or Martha Rodgers about Richard Castle. It's important that the drugs not cause this kind of confusion."

She stepped away from the nurses' station and moved quickly down the hall, heading for Castle's room; she didn't want to waste any more of her time here. She only had two hours before she had to get back to the Twelfth and face down her new Captain, to fight for the manpower and overtime hours to protect Castle.

The case was sunk, had been from the beginning.

What she wanted was to keep him safe while he recovered - just keep him safe.

She needed to keep him safe.

X

Kate had only been in the room for thirty minutes when Alexis showed up. Beckett fought back her disappointment - such bitter disappointment - and stood up from the chair.

"Alexis," she said warmly. Or tried for it anyway.

Alexis had her backpack on her shoulder, her hair in a braid like she use to wear when Beckett had first met her. She looked young and vulnerable and yet - frightening.

When had Beckett become afraid of his daughter?

(When it had started to matter.)

Beckett gestured towards the chair she had just vacated but Alexis shook her head, apparently as uncomfortable with finding Kate in the room as Kate was with Alexis coming in. The girl glanced around as if looking for a place for herself, and she finally settled on the cot that Martha had used in the beginning; it was still set up.

Beckett had used it once or twice so far. She watched Alexis shrug off her backpack and pull out materials, and she realized the girl was going to study here.

Okay. Well. Great.

"You can have the chair," Alexis said after a moment. She had crossed her legs on the cot and she balanced a textbook on one thigh. "The mattress lets me spread out."

Beckett sighed and moved around to sit, but now her back was to Alexis; it felt awkward. What else could she do? She had wanted only to sit close to Castle with her hand on top of his, calming him when he woke confused, soothing him back to sleep.

Sometimes they talked. Briefly. Sometimes he smiled at her and their eyes held, just that connection they had - until he slipped back under again.

Now she felt stupid. Out of place.

Beckett shifted the chair so she could see Alexis now too, crossing her legs and sitting up straighter. But she snaked her hand through the railing and curled her fingers over Castle's forearm, unwilling to disconnect, but she put her attention on his daughter.

"So. What are you studying for?"

"Physics," Alexis said shortly. But she lifted her head, the eye contact softening her answer.

Beckett nodded, though she barely remembered her own junior year physics class. "How's it going so far?"

Alexis's response was one heartbeat too slow, and Beckett got it immediately.

Shut up, Kate.

"Um, it's not going so great," Alexis said, giving her a frank look. "It's pretty complicated actually."

Which meant, shut up and let me study.

"Of course," Kate said, nodding, keeping it minimal.

Alexis frowned, smoothed her hand over her notebook. "Most of the exam will be on thermal physics - so it's rates of heat transfer and temperature change. A lot of formulas."

Beckett nodded, but her fingers curled around his arm, her spine stiffening in the chair. She didn't open her mouth - no point in prolonging a conversation no one wanted to be part of.

"It's just that this is my hardest-" Alexis shook her head, cutting herself off. "Physics and I are not friends. And I'm already really - um - distracted."

Beckett nodded again, and she let the silence creep over them, bowing out as gracefully as she could. Alexis was trying, it seemed, and they'd talked a little a few days ago, but it was obvious Beckett had ruined Alexis's nice studying retreat by being here.

She understood that; she would just sit here quietly, not bothering Alexis, and hopefully the girl could get her studying done.

Because Beckett was not leaving.

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