Kate sat up abruptly, the luxurious sheets tangled at her hips, her mind trying to sort through the haze between sleep and reality. The more reality encroached, the more she ached for sleep. Literally. Her head throbbed, her body had pangs in places she didn't even know existed, and her inner shivers felt suspiciously like the marks of a high fever.
"Kate?" The soft question preceded the curious head that peered around the corner of the bedroom. He seemed relieved when she blinked bleary eyes at him, and the tray of soup and tea he'd brought with him clattered to a resting place on her bedside table. Brushing some hair from her damp forehead, he kissed the trail his fingers had taken and looked at her searchingly.
"How are you feeling?"
Her groan gave him any answers he needed, and he hid a smile as she fell back against the pillows.
"Did I get hit by a train at the mayor's Halloween party?" she asked, wincing at how weak her voice sounded.
His forehead knitted together in confusion. "Whose party?"
"The mayor's Halloween party," she repeated in mild annoyance. Why isn'the listening to me?
"Kate, hon, the mayor didn't have a Halloween party."
"Yes, he did," she struggled to sit back up but gave up when she could tell the effort would be futile.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked up at him in consternation. "You bought me an Elektra costume. You dressed up like the red Angry Bird. We were going to meet the blackmailer."
What is she talking about? He pursed his lips in a mixture of amusement and concern. "Well… as much as I'd like the idea of seeing you in an Elektra costume, I think you're a little confused."
Her brow wrinkled, and he was afraid for a moment that she might cry. "But…"
Running his index finger down her nose, he chuckled softly. "You've been sick since last night," he told her. "High fever, cough – Lanie suspects pneumonia."
"But…"
"She said it could have been lying dormant since the shooting – all that time you were in bed, recovering, and it finally manifested itself."
"But…"
Goodness, she was cute when she was baffled.
Masking a grin by leaning in to brush her forehead with another kiss, he sat back on the bed and drew patterns on her wrist with a light touch. "She gave you a shot while she was here, and she wrote a prescription after talking with your personal physician. There's an antibiotic on the table there," he nodded to her left. "And some soup and crackers and tea so you don't have to take it on an empty stomach."
"So…" she was grasping for solid mental footing, and he let her, intrigued by the dream she'd so obviously had. "We didn't meet with Gates and tell her who our suspects were?"
He shook his head.
"And I didn't promise Gates that I'd make sure you behaved?"
He laughed. "No."
"And… we didn't talk about a Playboy bunny costume for me or a Space Cowboy costume for you?"
His eyebrow arched. "No, but I like the sound of that first one."
"And… you don't have some kind of murder board for my mom's case on your computer?"
Oh, dear Lord. He froze. Icy cold fear squeezed his heart until it physically hurt, and he searched her gaze for confrontation. There was none – only confusion and frustration as she tried to make sense of the jumbled images still tumbling through her brain. A cautious peace slowly restored itself.
"What kind of dream did you have?" he teased casually, forcing his voice to convey lighthearted ribbing instead of trepidation. Putting the back of his hand gently against her forehead, he frowned. "I don't think your fever has gone down any. I'm going to get your next dose of ibuprofen. Be right back."
She mentally replayed their conversation in his absence and finally placed a fuzzy finger on what was bothering her. He had denied everything else – except for the murder board. Then, he'd merely changed the subject and left the room.
"Here you go," he said upon his return, holding out two small brown pills and handing her the mug of tea to rinse them down.
She swallowed obediently then clutched at his sleeve. "Castle… you don't … you're not working on my mother's case behind my back, are you?"
Sighing, he sat down next to her and rubbed her fingers tenderly. His face was sober, and she fought the urge to vomit. "Kate, that question needs a longer answer than I can give right now."
A sinking feeling pooled in her chest, and if she'd felt well, she would have put up more of a fight. As it is, she barely had enough energy to process his next words.
"Ryan and Espo are already downstairs waiting for me. Gates brought them in on the sting when it was clear you were in no condition to help me out. I promise we can talk about this when I get back."
That garnered her attention. Her eyes snapped to his in curiosity. "Where are you going?"
"To the drop with the blackmailer," he explained patiently, taking her tea cup and placing it back on the tray. "Which is not at the mayor's non-existent Halloween party."
He stood. "Alexis is upstairs." Handing her cell phone to her, he indicated one of the numbers on the dial pad. "I put her number on speed dial. Call her if you need anything before I get home."
"Rick," she called hoarsely before he could take very many steps away from her. "Be careful?"
"Always."
And then he was gone. She was left to her own devices – his laptop tauntingly calling to her from his office. Would it hurt to snoop around a bit?
"Later," she muttered into the gathering darkness as she collapsed onto the bed with a fragile sigh. Right now, she wanted sleep more than answers. Sleep – and a blessed reprieve from the drum section that had taken up residence in her head.
The alternating rings and buzzes of her cell phone against the nightstand finally coaxed Kate from a drugged slumber. Rubbing her eyes in an effort to rid her mind of the vestiges of cobwebs left behind by her dreams, she groped for the phone, punched the button, and managed to hold it to her ear. Her muscles were so weak that it felt like lead against her fingers.
"Beckett," she croaked, struggling to sit up and focus on whatever the caller was saying.
"Beckett – it's Castle." Only it wasn't Castle. It was Esposito. Kate felt her heart drop into her stomach even as her stomach rose into her throat.
"No." She physically shook her head, though there was no one in the room to see her.
Kate stumbled out of bed and reeled into the living room on quivering legs, putting her hand to her hand to quell the dizziness that had the floor and the ceiling trading places.
"No," she said again, unwilling to listen to the disjointed words she could pick out from the cloud that surrounded her.
"Stabbed … hospital … unconscious … Ryan … pick you up…" He was probably speaking in complete sentences, but she couldn't process anything past syllables and phrases.
"No," she whispered again. Fear paralyzed her, and a sob rose in her throat.
And as the last few years flashed through her memory, everything went black
