A/N: I tried to get the stuff with the gun right, and the stuff in the hospital. But there's only so much that watching E.R and The Unit will tell you about those things. So, if stuff was wrong, well so be it.
I've had this running around in my head for a while now, and finally found a place to fit it in the story.
Chapter 14
They had lapsed back into a comfortable silence for most of the trip back to Manhattan. It was a new thing between them, and something Rick really was warming to. The teasing and flirting was a lot of fun, especially now that Beckett was spicing things up, but there was something so… nice about sharing a companionable silence with someone else.
He thought back to a couple of occasions recently where she'd so effortlessly led him by the nose, right up to the brink, and then slipped away like mist, leaving him floundering. Looking across at her now, watching as she gazed almost serenely out of the windscreen, he decided that playful, teasing, and above all, devastatingly sexy side of her told him that actually being with her would be something beyond even his most sordid fantasies. He found himself grinning almost lasciviously at the prospect.
That was when she glanced back at him, her expression curious, and a little suspicious. "What? What are you smiling at?"
"You." He said simply, and watched the colour creep into her cheeks. She blushes so easily, he thought, wonderingly. Why couldn't I get this reaction out of her before? Or did I, and I was too busy trying to hide my own feelings to see it?
"And what are you watching me for, Castle?" She was going for stern, but he could still see that mix of pleasure and self-conscious awareness on her face. Half a dozen witty lines flashed through his head, designed to annoy her, or entice her. He discarded them all, and decided that the truth was his best bet.
"I like looking at you, Kate." He told her, watching as the pink flush deepened. "Seriously, it's becoming one of my favourite past times. A hobby, almost."
"A hobby? You're a busy man, Castle, I'm not sure you have time for hobbies." Her tone was light and teasing, which seemed to be her default setting these days, much to Rick's delight.
"Oh, I can always make time for things that are truly important, don't you worry about that."
"I'm sure you can. And you seem to make time for less important things, too. Very impressive." Her smirk robbed the words of any sting, and she turned back to focus on the road ahead of them. Rick subsided, and let the quiet creep in and take them again.
Just as he was settling down for a daydream about some of the things he might do to Beckett, given half a chance, the shrill ring of his phone made him jump. Beckett snorted in quickly stifled laughter, and he gave her a dirty look as he answered. "Castle."
The voice on the other end was as harried as usual, and as blunt. "Rick, are you avoiding my calls again? I've got Hollywood bigwigs breathing down my neck for a decision, I've got your ex-wife starting to ask pointed questions about Naked Heat, and I've got gossip columnists wanting to know why you're mysteriously absent from the scene lately. So let's play a game called, 'What have you done for me, lately?"
Rick cringed slightly, and turned away from Beckett's questioning look. "Paula, hi. It's always lovely to hear your dulcet tones."
"Don't try to charm me, Richard Castle. You know damn well that it doesn't work. I've known you too long. So, first things first. I know you told me the book was going well the other day, but how well? Your deadline is up in two weeks, and Black Pawn are getting seriously antsy. They want to know you'll be finished on time."
"I might be." He paused at her exclamation of disbelief. "I might! It's been going… really well since I got back from L.A." He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting towards the woman sat next to him. Rick was under no illusions about why his writers' block had suddenly disappeared, right around the time that he confessed his feelings to her, and she then let him know she reciprocated. If he was honest with himself, it frightened him a little. He'd never had his ability to write influenced so heavily by feelings for another person, before, and he dreaded to think where he'd be right now if she had rejected him. I called her my muse as a bit of fun, but it's starting to look like it was more prescient than I ever imagined.
As it was, he was just glad that Beckett could only hear one side of the conversation. The detective in her might put two and two together, and hit closer to home than he was comfortable with. Still, she raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he knew she'd be asking him about it at a more opportune time.
"So how long, Rick? Days? Weeks?" A pause. "Months?"
"Weeks. Definitely weeks. Honestly, Paula, I'm on the home stretch, rounded third a couple of days ago."
"Well, I know you're not famed for your athletic prowess, but if you could run just a little faster, we'd all be happier. Capiche?"
He sighed, defeated. "Capiche."
"And maybe you should think about spending less time with your little friend. The one with the handcuffs and gun."
"That's not an issue." He told her, firmly, not wanting to hear anyone speak of Beckett so dismissively.
"Right, of course it isn't. Why are you still sniffing after her anyway? Didn't you tell me she has a boyfriend?" He could picture the baffled, slightly nauseous look that Paula always got when talking about relationships.
"That was a… temporary situation, as it turned out." This was a strain, talking around the topic so that Beckett wouldn't catch on. Or at least, he hoped she wouldn't. He risked another glance, and could tell she was listening intently.
"Oh, Rick, if she was going to let you into her pants, she would have done it already. Just think about spending the summer in L.A, and all the nubile, impressionable young girls you'll meet. All just looking for an experienced older man to take them under his wing, teach them the ways of the world."
"Yeah, thanks for that image, Paula. I'll be sure to keep it in mind."
"Good. Because Bruce wants an answer, and I can't keep throwing blocks to save your ass."
"He'll have one when I know what it is." He said, shortly, wishing he had the slightest clue what that answer would be. It was something he'd been avoiding as much as possible. Never do today what you can still put off tomorrow, he thought, wryly.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to tell him that, Rick. You wanted this damn gig! You had me talking to the producers almost from the moment they approached us for the rights. If you're not interested any more, just say so, and save me a lot of trouble."
"I am interested!" He winced and quickly lowered the volume of his voice, glancing again at Beckett, guiltily. "I am still interested. It's just… it's a big decision, and everything has to be right." He sighed again. "I'll talk to Alexis about it again tonight."
"Good. Now, about the third question, I suppose it's not even worth asking now, is it? Ever since you met that girl you've been a massive disappointment to paparazzi and tabloid hacks all over the city. You'll be lucky to even make the Eligible Bachelor list next time." Before he could protest, she breezily said goodbye and disconnected.
Rick glared at the phone, momentarily, and then sighed again, shoving it back into his pocket, with more force than was strictly necessary.
"Your agent hassling you?" The question was innocuous, her tone indicating that the answer was of no importance, but Rick didn't miss how Beckett's shoulders had tensed, and her hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly than was necessary.
"Yeah, she's chasing me for the book. It should be finished by now, or as good as."
"Why isn't it?" Again, that casual tone of voice that was so at odds with her body language.
He tried to hit the same beat, and failed. "Oh, you know, plot revisions, characters coming and going. It's writer stuff, not something you'd be interested in."
That did earn him a glare. "You don't have to be an asshole about it, Castle. If you don't want to tell me, fine." He stared, speechless at how quickly her demeanour changed.
"Well, I'm sorry if you think I'm being an asshole, but it's just not worth talking about.." He couldn't keep the snippy tone out of his own voice, either, and prayed she'd let it go.
She narrowed her eyes briefly, before saying, "Ok, well in future just say that. There's no need to be so condescending." He could hear the hurt in her voice.
"I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to be rude, really. It's just that Paula's grating on my nerves at the moment. Things are stacking up a bit, getting on top of me."
Beckett watched him for a moment, before nodding once, and turning her eyes back to the road. "Apology accepted. But for future reference, I do find your work worth talking about."
He didn't really know what to say to that, so just sat quietly for what remained of the journey.
"Hey, Beckett, Castle," Esposito greeted them as they traipsed back into the precinct, still not having spoken since their disagreement in the car. "We got Ballistics back on the gun." He waved a slim file at them, and the contrasting expressions on the faces of he and Ryan told Rick that things might be about to get interesting. Ryan looked eager, and amused, whilst Esposito looked like he'd been chewing nails.
Beckett clearly got the same read of the situation, resigned to whatever she was about to hear. "Ok, let's have it, Esposito."
"Get this. The gun used was not your run of the mill handgun."
She waved that off impatiently. "I know that, Esposito. 7.62mm, Lanie thought."
"Yeah, well she was right. Now, there are plenty of guns that fire .30cal ammo. Mostly rifles, or machine guns. A few revolvers, but we know it wasn't one of those, because forensics found a shell casing in the alley. Unless the guy emptied out the chambers at the scene."
Ryan butted in, glancing reprovingly at his partner for hogging all of the exposition. "Plus, the fact we only found one casing indicates the killer cleaned up after himself. He missed this one due to the fact it rolled under a crate in the alley."
Beckett shared an impatient glance between them. "Any time you guys feel like telling me something new. I'll just be standing here, getting older."
"This shell casing is from a Tokarev 7.62mm bullet. So, Ballistics have given us a weapon." Esposito paused, frowning at the file briefly. "Type-54 pistol. Used by the People's Liberation Army from 1950 through to today."
"Chinese?" Rick was shocked. "What's a Chinese army pistol doing on the streets of New York?" A thought struck him. "You think it's the Triads?"
Beckett looked at him, clearly surprised herself. "I don't think the Triads would be using Chinese army equipment, Castle. Not when it's so easy to get good old American guns on any street corner."
Esposito was nodding. "You can't import these things. Sanctions against Chinese weapons manufacturers. My guess is, it's a souvenir. Brought back from Korea or Vietnam, and ended up in the wrong hands."
Rick froze, his mind ticking over. "Or the hands it had always been in became wrong."
The rest of them frowned at that, trying to decipher his meaning. Beckett was first, as usual. "You think the killer was a war vet, that he fought in South East Asia?"
"It's not unheard of, is it? Old guys who've been keeping unregistered guns for decades, decide to go out and kill someone. Hell, we've even come across it whilst I've been working with you, remember?" He paused again. "And I think I know who it was."
He had their full attention now. "Winston Brooks."
"That's… not very likely, Castle. Winston Brooks doesn't have any military experience. He's never fought anywhere, let alone Vietnam."
"Yeah, plus, look at the guy," Ryan said, dismissively gesturing towards the picture of Winston Brooks on the murder board. "He's 150lbs of skin and bones, and close to fifty years old. You think he goes out in the morning and lies in wait for a six foot five high school athlete?"
"Let me tell you something, Ryan." Castle said, with conviction, "If someone did to Alexis what Jason Williams did to Rebecca Brooks, I'd kill them, without a second thought. And I wouldn't feel a moment of regret over it."
Ryan stopped, mouth hanging open, reply dead on his lips. He glanced at Beckett and Esposito, and saw he wasn't going to get back up from either. "Right, yeah, I guess it's possible." He said, weakly.
Beckett was studying Rick intently, her expression inscrutable. Then she turned to Esposito and said, "Brooks' alibi is a little soft. He said he was out jogging, alone, then dropped by the local store to chat to the owner. We're going to have to look into it."
Esposito nodded grimly. "Ok. What about the gun?"
"I don't think the gun's going to help us too much right now. We'll keep looking for motive and opportunity." She glanced at Rick, warily.
He barely noticed, having distracted himself with dark and unwelcome thoughts. Brooks could have killed that kid. Easily. And I don't blame him one bit.
Beckett continued. "You interviewed some of the vic's friends this morning, right?" Esposito nodded and pointed at a stack of statements on his desk.
"None of them saw him that morning, but once we convinced them we didn't give a damn about whatever crap they snorted up their noses, they did confirm he was a regular coke user."
"America's future star, huh?" Beckett rolled her eyes as she said it.
"Right. A real prince. Anyway, they gave us the name of his dealer. Goes by D-Fence." He sniggered briefly.
"Seriously?" Beckett asked, close to laughing herself. "And people don't laugh in his face?"
"Well, maybe they did in the past. But the three convictions he's got for aggravated assault and possession of unlicensed firearms might have dissuaded them. Real name's Derrick Fenchurch. We got an address."
"Right, well let's pay him a visit. He sounds like the ideal suspect." She shot an apologetic look at Rick. "And we'll check Castle's theory after we've spoken to… D-Fence." Rolling her eyes again, she turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. Esposito followed.
Ryan hung back for a second, and spoke in a low voice. "Hey, Castle, I didn't mean anything just then. I mean, you know far more than me about what people might do for their children…" He trailed off, looking lost.
Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I'm sorry I snapped. Now come on, or those two will have all the fun." Ryan smiled gratefully and they trotted to catch up to the others.
Their destination was a dingy apartment block, and Rick looked up at it, imagining all manner of seedy activities going on within. "Nice place." He told Beckett, airily. "I've been thinking about relocating. This looks like prime real estate, to me."
"Well, don't expect me to come around for dinner, then." She answered, peering up at the building dubiously.
"Oh, so you'll come around if I stay in my current place?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she smiled.
"Play your cards right, Rick, and I might just."
He was determined to restore his good mood, after the unsettling day he'd had so far. "How about we start off slow." She looked at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. "Let's grab some dinner after work. Just the two of us. My treat."
She stared at him. "You're asking to buy me dinner?" At his answering nod, she ducked her head, looking almost shy. "I'd like that. Ok, Castle, but nowhere fancy."
"Whatever you like, Kate." He was over the moon. Grabbing a bite to eat together was nothing new, but him paying for her would be. "You pick a place."
"Right. I will." Her cheeks were bright pink again, and she hurriedly climbed out of the car, heading round to the trunk. He got out after her, and watched as she quickly and proficiently donned her bulletproof vest.
"You think we're going to have to shoot our way in?" He asked, scrabbling to put on his own, personalized, vest.
"I hope not, but I'm not taking any chances." She glanced over at Ryan and Esposito as they strode up, armed and armoured already. "Ok, let's try softly-softly first, but if this guy's rap sheet is any indication, he could be trouble."
They followed her into the apartment block, single file, with Castle at the back, trying desperately to look like he knew what he was doing. It was times like this that he was secretly glad they wouldn't let him near a gun. He was so nervous that he'd just as easily shoot himself in the leg as take down a hostile target.
They quickly proceeded up to the second floor, to the suspect's apartment, meeting only a shocked old woman in the corridor. She retreated into her apartment, slamming the door firmly. Beckett stopped in front of a door, and hammered on it with her best 'I'm armed and pissed off' knock. "Derrick Fenchurch, this is the police. Open up." They waited. Silence. She tried again "Mr Fenchurch, if you do not open the door, we'll break it down." Still nothing, and Beckett nodded at Esposito, who took a step back, and kicked the door heavily. It tore away from the damp infested frame, and swung open.
"Awesome." Castle muttered, seriously impressed, and watched as the three police officers burst in. He never got tired of watching this, the way they checked and cleared a room within seconds. The cold, clinical efficiency was seriously impressive. And Kate Beckett, in badass mode, was one of the most exciting things Rick had ever seen. He watched her from the doorway. So hot!
They gave the all clear, and Castle strolled in, peering about with interest. The apartment looked even worse than the building exterior had hinted. Dingy, moldy, peeling wallpaper and stained, tatty furniture. "I love what they've done with the place." He breezed. "Condemned rat trap chic. Nice." Beckett shot him a tolerantly amused glance, and Ryan and Esposito drifted into the adjoining kitchen and bedroom.
Rick heard the door creak behind him, as it swung loosely on its hinges. Beckett heard it too, and half turned to look back. His blood went cold as he saw her eyes widen in alarm, and she started to raise her gun. "Castle! Down!" Her yell filled the apartment, and Rick started to move, but before he could take a step, he felt pain lance through the back of his skull, and the world went white.
It seemed to Kate like everything happened in slow motion. She heard the creak of a door behind her, and turned to look. Castle stood there, just inside the door still gazing around contemptuously at the grotty room. Behind him there was a figure emerging from a closet that they hadn't seen, that had been hidden behind the open door. He was tall, thick set, and holding what looked like a baseball bat.
"Castle!" She screamed, her arms coming up like they were pushing through molasses, trying to bring her gun to bear. "Down!" He stared, seemingly frozen, and all she could do was watch as that bat came down with a sickening thud on the back of his head. He dropped, boneless. For a split second, she stared in horror, and that was time enough for the man to fling the bat at her, and careen out of the apartment. "Stop!" She shouted, feebly as she dodged the oncoming missile, but he was gone.
Ryan bolted out of the kitchen, and leapt over Castle's prone form, charging after the man, bellowing loudly for him to freeze. Kate took what must have been her first breath since seeing Castle struck, and lurched across the room to land ungracefully on her knees at his side. He wasn't moving, and she reached a hand out to check for a pulse. It was strong, steady, and she breathed a sigh of relief. When she brought her hand away, it was bloody, and all she could do was stare at her fingers, which were starting to shake.
Esposito was suddenly beside her, urgently calling in an officer down, and requesting paramedics. He turned to Kate, trying to get her attention, and had to resort to shaking her. "Kate! What happened?"
He never uses my first name, she thought, absently. He shook her again, and repeated his question, and she snapped out of the daze. "There was a guy in that closet, he hit Castle with a bat and took off."
"Ryan went after him, right?" She nodded, and Esposito grunted, obviously torn between chasing his partner and dealing with the situation right in front of him.
"Go. Ryan might need your help." Her voice still sounded weak, but she was quickly regaining her composure.
"He's a big boy." Esposito said, confidently. "He'll be fine." He looked down at Castle, who still hadn't moved. "Bad gash on his head, there. They bleed like a bitch. It doesn't look too serious." Glancing over at the weapon used, he relaxed. "Aluminum bat. Lucky it wasn't wood, he'd have a fractured skull, for sure."
"He still might have!" Kate replied, hotly. "We should have seen it, should have checked properly…." She trailed off, frustrated beyond words. "Dammit. What am I going to tell his mother? What do I tell his daughter?"
"Hey. Look at me." Esposito reached out and cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. "He's fine, he's going to be just fine. Kate, trust me."
She nodded, her eyes wet, and she dashed a hand across them angrily. Don't cry, you stupid girl! She admonished herself. He'll just have a headache and a few stitches. That's all. Her hand reached out, and she ran her fingers through his hair, now sticky with blood. Why hasn't he woken up?
As though he'd heard her thoughts, Rick Castle groaned faintly, and shifted, trying to raise his head. Kate's heart skipped a beat, and she scooted closer. "Rick, can you hear me? Are you ok?"
"Kate?" His voice was weak, dazed. "Wha' happened?" His lifted a hand to the back of his head, and she saw him wince in pain. "Feels like I got shot. Did I get shot?"
"No, he hit you with a bat. Cracked you in the head."
"Like a piñata?"
A desperately relieved laugh bubbled up. "Yeah, like a piñata." She stroked his back comfortingly. Esposito smiled at his friend, still with his cheek pressed to the floor.
"Come on, partner, let's get you into a more comfortable position." He reached down and set his hands under Castle's arms. "Beckett, can you help me?"
She nodded, and together they hefted Castle into a sitting position, and propped him delicately against the wall. His eyes were glazed, and he winced again in pain. "Ow." Touching the back of his head softly, he then examined his hand. "Bleeding. Bleeding my own blood."
Esposito laughed quietly. "Well, who else's could you be bleeding?" He quickly checked Castle over for any other injuries, and stood, poking his head out of the door.
Kate just knelt on the floor, staring at Castle helplessly. She felt foolish, having first hesitated and let the attacker get away, and then she'd been completely useless and Esposito had to take over. She reached out and rested her hand against Castle's cheek. He smiled vacantly, and leaned into her touch slightly.
"Hey look at that, here comes wonder boy now. Ryan, that's a big fish you caught there." Esposito sounded gleeful, and sure enough, Ryan appeared in the doorway, shoving the attacker, arms cuffed behind his back, ahead of him roughly.
"Sit down." He said firmly, and propelled the man onto the couch. "You ok, Castle?"
"'M jus' fine, Ryan. Everythin' went all bendy, but 'm ok now."
"Yeah, you sound just fine." Ryan watched him with concern for a moment, then turned back to the man he'd apprehended. "This delightful specimen is Derrick Fenchurch."
"Nice to meet you, Derrick." Esposito said, coldly. "Good of you to welcome us so heartily into your home."
"Hey, fuck you man." Derrick spat, sneering. "I never wanted no cops in here. I never done anything."
"No? How about resisting arrest and assault with a weapon?" Esposito retorted. "And that's just for starters."
Kate tried to listen to the exchange, but her eyes kept straying back to Castle. He's not lucid, she realized, her worry growing. What if that hit did some real damage? He was still smiling at her, dopily.
"Hey, Kate, 'Espo…Esp… Spozzie called me 'partner'. Why don't you ever do that?"
She laughed, a brittle sound, and stroked his hair back from his forehead. "You really think I need a partner who gets taken out by a mere baseball bat to the head?"
"I'm a good partner. Bring you coffee, make you happy. We should do more partner stuff."
"We will." She assured him. "Just as soon as we get your brain checked out." She looked up at Esposito, "He's slurring his words, Javi." She said, needlessly, her stomach clenching. "And he's not lucid."
Esposito gazed at her reassuringly. "Don't worry. He'll be fine." He stopped for a moment, and they heard the sirens. "Here come the paramedics, now."
Kate strode along quickly, following the gurney down the corridor, trying to tell the doctor what was wrong. "He's not coherent, he's slurring words. I'm worried there may be a fracture." She was babbling, and some distant part of her was telling her to slow down and shut up, but she didn't seem to be able to listen. "Doctor…"
The man stopped, and turned to face her. "How long was he unconscious?"
Kate stared wildly for a moment, trying to think. "Err, a few minutes, I think. I don't know."
He nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry, detective. Your partner is in good hands." She watched urgently over the man's shoulder as they wheeled Castle into an exam room. He was peering about with idle, vacant interest, still no better than he had been when he first woke.
The paramedics had allowed her to travel with them in the ambulance, and if they'd thought it odd that she held his hand for the entire journey, they hadn't mentioned it. And now, she didn't want to let him out of her sight, but the doctor politely but firmly told her she would have to stay outside.
Esposito appeared behind her. "I'll call his mom." He said quietly.
That roused something in Kate, and she turned to look at him. "No. I'll do it." She drew herself up, and took out her phone. "Where's Ryan?"
Esposito looked at her quizzically. "He took Fenchurch in. Said he'd come over as soon as the guy was safely banged up."
Kate nodded and scrolled through her contacts until she found Martha's number. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the dial key. It seemed to ring forever, and she was about to give up, when it was answered, and she heard Martha Rodgers' educated tones. The conversation went past in a blur, but she managed to convey that Castle was hurt, but not too seriously. Martha told her she and Alexis would be there straight away, and hung up.
The waiting was interminable. It felt like she'd been there for hours, but a glance at the clock told her it had been a little over fifteen minutes. "Kate!" Martha's voice reverberated down the hospital corridor, and Kate looked up to see her and Alexis hurrying towards her. "What happened? Where is he?"
"He's in with the doctors," She told them, trying to find a tone of voice that would soothe them. She couldn't bear to look at the raw fear in Alexis' wide eyes. "He got hit on the head, he was out for a few minutes. We're waiting for the doctors to come and let us know what's going on."
Martha nodded, resolute, and wrapped her arm around Alexis' shoulders. "There, you see. He'll be fine. If there's one place your father could get hit without doing any lasting damage, it's his head."
Alexis tried to smile at that, but it wavered and faded before anyone would ever call it a smile. "Kate, is he ok? Really?" Those big blue eyes fixed on hers, and Kate felt the easy lie die on her lips.
"He's altered. Not really out of it, but groggy, dazed."
The two Castle women nodded at that, and Kate watched them, feeling sick with guilt. "I'm sorry." She told them, earnestly. "It was my fault, I should have checked the room more thoroughly."
"Oh, nonsense, Kate." Martha told her, decisively. "You know your job better than anyone, I have complete faith that you acted appropriately. It's my fool of a son who needs to learn some sense. Charging around after you, wearing that ridiculous vest of his. He should know his place."
Kate felt the perverse need to convince them that she was at fault, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Martha cut her off mercilessly. "I won't hear another word about it. Now, where's a doctor when you need one?" She glanced around imperiously.
As if summoned, the door of the exam room opened and the doctor exited, walking over to them with a soothing smile on his face. "Mr Castle should be just fine." He said, and paused whilst Alexis let out a quiet squeal of relief, and Kate released the breath she'd been holding. "He's got a bad gash on the back of his head, which we've sutured, and we're quite sure he's got concussion. We're sending him up for a CAT scan, and we'll want to keep him in overnight, to monitor him." He gestured towards the door. "We'll be talking him up in just a few minutes, but you can go in and see him if you like."
Kate almost leapt towards the door, but held herself back, watching as Martha and Alexis hurried for the door. He should see family, first, she reasoned, morosely.
Martha glanced back, and read the situation perfectly, as she always seemed to. "Kate? Come on, the doctor said we could go in." She held out a hand and Kate gratefully started forward, appreciating the motherly pat on her shoulder that Martha gave her.
Castle was sitting on the bed, grumpily pulling at the hospital gown he was now wearing. He looked up when they entered, and smiled broadly, though Kate noticed he was still not quite with it. "Hey, it's my womenfolk!" He greeted them jovially. "Come to see the fallen warrior?"
Kate raised her eyebrows questioningly at that. His womenfolk? Me? A little presumptuous, Richard. She chose not to say anything though. Not right now, anyway.
Alexis rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him, carefully to avoid jostling him. "Dad, you idiot. How could you scare us like that?" She squeezed her eyes shut, and looked like she was holding on for dear life.
"Sorry, pumpkin," He did sound contrite, and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I didn't mean to get whacked."
"No one ever does, Richard." Martha told him sternly, though Kate thought she saw a glimmer of relief in that patrician face. "You need to be more careful. How would you have felt if your great, clumsy lumbering had stopped Kate and the boys from doing their job? Hmm?"
Castle looked up at Kate. "I'm sorry, Kate." He said sincerely. "I didn't mean to get in the way."
Kate stared at him, lost for words for a moment. He's apologizing to me? For being assaulted? It beggared belief. "Listen, Rick, you don't have to apologize for that. It wasn't your fault." She was about to start telling him how sorry she was, when Martha, clearly anticipating it, cut her off.
"That's quite enough of the blame game, I think. Richard, you need to behave yourself and let these people take care of you." She looked up as the orderlies entered the room, nodding vaguely at the occupants.
"Come on, sir," One of them said. "We need to get you up to CT. See if your head still works properly."
"Oh don't worry about that, gentlemen," Martha told them. "It's never worked properly."
Kate watched as they began to wheel him out. He turned and reached out, grabbing her hand. "Guess we'll have to take a rain cheque for tonight, huh?"
She blinked for a moment, unable to recall what he meant. Dinner. Oh. She felt a keen sense of disappointment, followed by a brand new wave of guilt over her selfishness. She smiled at him. "Don't worry, Rick. There'll be other nights. Besides, I need to get back to the precinct and interrogate Fenchurch.
The orderlies wheeled him out, with Alexis and Martha trailing afterwards. Kate watched them go, and smiled when Alexis turned to give her a quick wave and a look of gratitude.
Kate was feeling tired, run down and stressed out. Fenchurch had proved to be a dead end. He was meeting with his parole officer at 7am the morning Williams was shot, on the other side of the city. He had given them information on who Williams spent time with, who took drugs with him. And he'd also confirmed he no longer owned a gun, which a search of his apartment had verified. Dead end.
Still, she was going to enjoy nailing him to the wall for what he'd done to Castle.
She'd not been able to stop thinking about him all day. About the fear that had taken hold of her when she saw him lying motionless on that rough wooden floor, and how she'd come so close to panicking when she realized he was altered.
The last time she'd been that scared had been when Dick Coonan held a gun to Castle's back, and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'd pull the trigger, on the slightest provocation. Just the thought of him being hurt was enough to make her queasy, and seeing his blood on her hands this afternoon had been almost too much to take.
Stop it. He's fine, she told herself, thinking back to the cheerful, if slightly baffled Castle that she'd left in the hospital a few hours ago. She looked at her watch. We'd be having dinner now, if not for Fenchurch. When he'd asked her, she'd felt a small thrill run through her body, like goosebumps breaking out, but on the inside. Tingly.
Smiling softly to herself, she wondered when they'd get a chance to make good on those plans. Odd, she thought, how thinking of food can make you smell it, almost taste it. She looked up, and realized just why she was smelling food. She was walking past Remy's, the place where she had planned on taking Castle. So I'm predictable, boring. So what? She thought defensively. Then, another thought struck her, and she walked towards the restaurant, an excited smile plastered onto her face.
Rick tried to get comfortable, rucking up the single solitary pillow he'd been given, taking care not to touch the achingly sore, raw gash on the back of his head. He was uncomfortable, he had a headache, the bed was too small and too hard, and he was hungry.
They'd brought him some hospital food, but it didn't look or smell like anything a human should consider eating. Still, he'd picked at it listlessly, before giving it up as inedible. He thought back over the day, much of which was a hazy, blotchy blur. He recalled flashes of Beckett's concerned face. Concerned for him. And Esposito glaring down, angry, but not angry at him.
He'd been told he had concussion, and had come to the conclusion that he didn't want it. It was unpleasant. He felt like his head was too big, his eyes were aching. Even his hair was aching. This sucks, he thought, petulantly.
Martha and Alexis had finally gone home, after him threatening to bang his head on the bedframe if they didn't. Though their irritated looks told him that he might have worn out the sympathy chip already, with his sullen behaviour. He was lying there, staring at nothing, resigning himself to a long, sleepless, unpleasant night.
He heard the door to his room opening, and ignored it, thinking it was yet another nurse, coming in to check on him. Then he caught it, a whiff of food. Real food. Slowly, carefully, he levered himself onto his back, and heaved up into a sitting position, to find Kate Beckett standing at the foot of his bed, a mischievous smile on her face. "Visiting hours are long since over, but my badge is better than an all access pass."
"Hi." He said, stupidly. "What are you doing back here?"
She lifted her arm, and he saw she was holding a bag that looked fit to bursting, and had the word 'Remy's' printed on the side. "You brought food?" He gasped, hardly believing his eyes. "Real food?"
"Yeah, well, I decided I didn't want to take a rain cheque after all. Only this dinner's on me. You can get it next time." She smiled warmly, very warmly, and pulled up the bedside chair. She glanced around, and found a tray that held a water pitcher on his bedside cabinet. She retrieved it, and set it on the bed next to him.
He watched in delight as she emptied the bag, item by item. "Burger, fries, cheesecake. And a chocolate milkshake." She told him, proudly. "I know the setting may not be up to your usual standard." She looked around. "I mean, it's clean, but there's not a Michelin Star to be seen."
Rick grinned happily. "Are you kidding? This is great." He looked at her, feeling a sense of satisfaction, of completion that was previously undreamt of. "Kate, thank you. You're amazing." He meant it with all his heart, and as she gazed back at him, smiling happily, her eyes shining in the semi-darkness of the room, he felt all his aches and pains melt away. Even the rent on the back of his head was forgotten.
A/N: Again, no cliffhanger, just a bit of fluff. And yeah, I know the 'Castle gets hurt' idea isn't exactly original, but what the Hell. There are no new ideas, really, just old ones with a new spin on them.
Please read and review.