Chapter 36 – Appreciation Part I

Previously Rick is finally checking out of ICU and preparing to begin the next phase of his long road to recovery.

This chapter is especially dedicated to my friend, fellow Shipper, and outstanding author purplangel. Please check out her latest story 'The Boy's Scheme'. Certified Shipper Safe.

Disclaimer – even in my wildest dreams I don't own Castle or any of the characters. If I did, you'd see way more than primetime TV allows! All the other legal stuff applies too.

Room 22, Ward 16 East, Bellevue Hospital

After Beckett had been bossed out of his ICU room, the nursing team had prepared him for relocation to a general surgical ward. However, the transfer also involved an assessment of his condition by the surgical team and other specialists. He had wished Beckett was there to keep track of all the names he failed to take in, and the detailed updates from the unwittingly anonymous talking heads.

The doctors had wanted to confirm that their repair work was good so despite the fact his shoulder injury was meant to be immobilized he had been prodded and inspected. Worse, far worse, a slight articulation of his right arm was made. Somehow he had avoided swearing but only because the residual pain medication continued to dull the worst of the agony. Unhappy with something they had conferred and he had then made an extended trip to the hospital's imaging department. The MRI had confirmed that pretty much everything was in place but that there was more muscular damage than originally estimated. Most likely missed due to the excessive trauma to the region. Additional recovery time, more physiotherapy, more pain, more disappointment. It's never like this in the books. Even his books.

Desperate, he had distracted himself by asking after the prognosis and what happened next. The talking heads had taken time to explain things to him and most of it stuck.

The worst of it was that the state of his musculature in his shoulder and upper right arm was worse than hoped. Even the most careful examination which had involved minimal contact, the lightest of touches and slight movement of his shoulder and the pain had been barely manageable. God knows how physical therapy was going to go when he began that.

The good news was that his chest injury including the collapsed right lung were responding positively. Whilst he no longer needed oxygen he now knows that whilst it could be weeks even a month or so before his breathing is perfectly normal, the worst of it should be gone within a week to ten days.

They had held up a mirror to show him the results of the shotgun blasts. Whilst his vest had saved his life, there had been more than enough damage done. The first impact on the right centre of his chest had left a deep bruise, so dark it appeared near black. It spread out across his stomach and chest like shockwaves from a tsunami. Heading up his right chest it merged into the smaller but no less dark bruising that crabbed out from under the dressings covering his shoulder from the second shot's impact point. He tried not to look too closely at those dressings which were also stained a different dark with some seepage from his wounds as they healed. Whilst the bleeding had been stopped the simple fact was that the skin and flesh around his right shoulder had been shredded in several places and the surgeons had concentrated on saving his life, and repairing the worst of the injuries. He was already aware he faced the possibility of a skin transplant to assist with the healing on his shoulder. Maybe even plastic surgery.

Amazingly his first thought at seeing his bruised and broken body was that he was in so much trouble with Kate when she saw it. His second is that he didn't want Alexis or his mother to see this. Kate would see them, he had no doubt about it. Plus they had committed to each other that there would be no more secrets. And he knew she would have experienced much worse with her own injuries. But he desperately wanted to protect Alexis from seeing in such excruciating and vivid detail the consequences of him 'playing' cop.

Pushing the introspection aside he surveys his new accommodation. Actually slightly smaller than the ICU room it does have a TV, a private en-suite bathroom with toilet and shower. A two and a half person sofa and a couple of chairs for visitors.

There was more privacy as there was no glass wall and blinds for the windows. But even better he would be allowed electronics here. His phone and tablet were coming with Kate today. He wasn't so sure how he would operate things with only one hand currently available. Hence he had told Kate not to bother with his laptop for the moment. He was really looking forward to Kate's arrival. Whilst he watched TV for entertainment he relied on the Internet and his smart devices to keep him in touch with news, finances and how his business under the RCE banner fared. After almost a week off-line he had a lot of catching up to do. He was sure Steve and Harry had everything under control but he liked to observe and occasionally issue a directive. At least his enforced isolation from the rest of the world would be lifted.

He has no patience for it.

Hates hospitals.

Did so long before Beckett was shot.

But his choice of a second career, especially with his luck, certainly doesn't help the odds of avoiding these places. For now he certainly had a new appreciation of his injuries. Not to mention his pain threshold. A part of himself – admittedly a small part - is secretly impressed by the degree of pain he can accept whereas the rest of him never wants to experience that again.

Worse than the current pain levels - which really were settling down to discomfort now - was the certainty that he had a long and painful road to recovery. Something he had only just come to appreciate. He now acknowledged in his own mind that perhaps Beckett wasn't so wrong in seeking solitude for her recovery those eighteen months ago. There were bound to be a lot of moments or even extended periods over the coming months when he was going to be tested and maybe sharing those with others, especially friends and family would be harder because of the impact on them. He suspects he is going to have even greater respect for Beckett's strength and determination. He can only hope that he meets the challenges with half as much character.

He wants Kate. Being honest it feels more like need. Constant need. The emotion has been there a lot over the years. The embers never-dying out, often flaring up and sometimes white-hot. Long before they were more than partners. All this despite their missteps and miscommunication and wrong choice of companions. Once he thought that when – the possibly of if or never had hurt so much - they were together the sensation and tumult would ease. Of course it was the opposite.

Over the six months the need had grown, and at first he had fought it. Afraid to push to fast or too much. To make her run. But she hasn't. He's come to appreciate since Gates' ultimatum that she has it just as bad as him. It should comfort him and make him confident in their relationship but the truth is the knotted need that pools within him demands more. Everything. He needs to respond to Kate's promise and her mother's ring with something of his own. He has a plan and he hopes willing agents to assist him. For that he needs his phone. Kate should be bringing that this morning now that he is out of the electronic Bermuda Triangle that was ICU.

Breaking from his thoughts for a moment he lifts the drink tube to his mouth and takes a sip of the liquid. Some of it splashes against the inside of his throat and he coughs, chest and shoulders spiking with pain at the excessive movement. Sucking breath back in, he can hear the wheeze of the passage of air into him and feel his diagram expand and then begin to contract as his muscles flare with spikes the intensity of muted hot pokers. He is grateful for the pain relief that makes the ache of breathing bearable but the medications that dull and steal the edge of this hurt are also fogging his head. He dislikes all of it intensely and wonders how long this will last.

Of course telling time was an issue with no watch, no phone, and for some asinine reason the clock in room is above his head and unreadable! The earlier continuous merry-go-round of hospital staff don't help. He knows it is Tuesday. He remembers being told that. It's late morning at least but beyond that he has nothing except a dull sensation in his stomach indicating he might be hungry but not so much that he would fail to pick, choose and reject most from the hospital food.

Now more than anything he wants out of this place. Especially when he is alone like now. Too easy for his mind to wander down dark paths and alleys that form the twilight of his consciousness. The curse of the writer's imagination. More so for the 'Master of the Macabre.'

Not that he's ever really liked Gina's creation. He's a crime and thriller writer not the horror genre. Sure some of victim's meet their ends in deranged and well, macabre manner. Still the public liked it and Gina was happy. He had not argued too much, a product of time when making Gina happy or at least trying to was a priority. Before shaking the thought off he did at least acknowledge the near genius of marketing the playboy author slash 'Master of the Macabre'. He had never thought it would work but it had boosted sales significantly and made both of them rich - well richer in his case - and for a while happy together. Or at least he thought so. But just like his public persona there was undeniable truth. He didn't love her enough or for the right reasons. This last time he wouldn't repeat the same mistakes.

Where's Kate?

New York Coroner's Office

Kate reached the Morgue on foot having stopped off briefly on the way from the hotel. She was now in possession of a tall hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and a piece of rich dark Black Forrest gateaux. Not so much a peace offering as a desperate attempt to distract and deflect. The realist in her knew that the ME would accept the offering and then proceed with the interrogation regardless.

Waving to the security guard, she had been buzzed through. Heading down to the set of labs where Lanie had her office she had passed Perlmutter and the new ME whose name she struggled to remember. Jello. No. Gello – that was it. Oh he kinda liked her. Rick hadn't been concerned at all. Such was the strength of their relationship. His response was simply to joke about another one of her fanboys. She notices as the younger ME momentarily straightens and attempts a smile at her before the cantankerous senior doctor expediently grabbed an ear and hauled him along directing a terse, simple greeting of "Detective Beckett." A greeting to which Kate had automatically responded "Medical Examiner's Perlmutter and Gello." Crap what was that? That was almost Castle-like. He really is rubbing off on her.

She has no more time to think on it as she has reached Lanie's workspace and has already been spotted.

"Girlfriend!" Lanie sounds excessively happy to see her. This is going to be bad.

"Hi Lanie." She responds as she waves the full takeaway cup and boxed desert and enters Lanie's office, nonchalantly pushing the door closed behind her and listening for the confirming click.

Pleasantries exchange, Dr Parish was straight down to business.

"For me?" Lanie's question is a formality and she swiftly relieved Kate of her cargo.

"Hmmm. Taste's good." The smaller woman's tone is one of intense enjoyment as she samples the rich, sugary hot chocolate. "Cake will have to wait." She says as she puts the container on her desk grinning as a quick peak confirms her suspicions about the content.

It is clear to Kate that her gifts were well received but equally ineffective.

"Girl, I don't know whether to hug you or smack you. Both probably to be on the safe side."

"What?!" Kate is perplexed by her best friend's opening statement.

"You have been holding out on me, Girl!"

"What?" Quieter this time.

"Kathrine Beckett. You have not been sharing. Withholding evidence. Vital information." Lanie giggled. Vital is right too.

Oh God she wants to discuss this now. I know I told Castle he had no more secrets where Lanie was concerned, I hadn't actually gone into that level of specific detail. I had simply told her he was 'gifted'.

I have a new found appreciation for why you are so happy with Writer Boy. No strike that! Definitely Writer MAN! You neglected to give me this vital bit of information when we have talked before. I am not happy with you. I'm thinking this is a breach of the girlfriend code." Only her best friend can sound so happy whilst lecturing her and threatening her.

Oh well probably best to just go with the truth. But the abridged version today. She didn't need Lanie's exuberant celebrations sharing her personal life with the entire NYC Coroner's office.

"Lanie, firstly can I just say that I am not entirely happy with you having observed Rick in such detail. Now I get that it was a medical emergency but even so. Also I don't ask you about Javier's gift." But she's not going down without some resistance.

"What's more I'm not just with Rick for the sex. I love him. Completely. And the yes we do have sex. A lot."

Her best friend tilts her head and raises an eyebrow in unspoken question.

"Which is great. Really good. Lots of really good sex. But I've already told you that Lanieeee."

Oh here comes the stare.

"Okay, nature was kind to him. Well he is a big guy and it's probably in proportion." Oh God she didn't just say that did she?

Lanie Parish stares back at her best friend. Hard. There might be a smirk under there but it's well disguised.

"Well okay, I'll admit that it is a pleasant bonus."

The stare intensifies but Kate thinks she can definitely see the twitch of a smile in there too.

"Okay. It's really pleasant, often in an earth moving, seeing stars, can't move or speak afterwards, sometimes not walking straight the following day sort of pleasant way."

"So he's good in bed then?" Lanie finally speaks.

"I've told you this before Lanie. But yes." Pausing she continues. "He's good everywhere Lanie."

"Oh my God Katherine Beckett! I gonna need details. Lots of details, technique, how often?" OMFG her best friend is like the entire female cast of Sex in the City.

"Lanieee!" She shouldn't whine but she needs her friend to back off a little, and take the volume down, especially in the workplace. People here know her.

"Not here for a start!"

Lanie nods at that. "Girlfriend. You know the code. Girl's night. Alcohol, indulgences and man-talk." Goddamn girlfriends code. It was great emotional support for breakups and crushes, outfit selection and therapy shopping, but a little onerous for Kate when it came to her relationship with Rick. Especially as she intended to never leave Rick, and didn't really want to share the most intimate details of their love life including how well he was endowed. Or quite how boneless and discombobulated he left her more often than not. Or that she did the same to him. Or how they got to that state. Or how frequently.

"I'll consider it. But you will have to swear that you are not to repeat any of it. Understand? Certainly not when there is a chance Alexis is around. We promised she wouldn't be traumatized any further."

"Oh please girl, you can't say that and not give me the story. Because it sounds like there is a story behind that."

"More than one. If Alexis wasn't in dorms she probably would have moved out anyway. I think we've even left Martha struck dumb. Although she did leave score cards one time."

Lanie's guffaw was disconcerting. Kate made a note to keep her best friend away from Martha. Or at least try to anyway.

"Girl, you are so telling me the full story behind those comments."

"Okay Lanie. We'll have girl's night some time. But if you carry on like this I'll have to think about having an injunction taken out against you."

"Sure you will. Just 'cause your best girlfriend knows your man is packing!" Lanie lowers her voice and leans in towards her best friend.

"Fuck Kate. Even limp it was bigger than most I've umm encountered. I have no idea how you accommodate…."

Kate cuts her off.

"Shit Lanie! Which bit of NOT NOW don't you get? I promise we will talk girlfriend to girlfriend about this sometime. But it needs to be done privately and not to be repeated or shared." Kate has moved forward into the diminutive ME's space and jabs a lean finger into Lanie's right shoulder who flinches. Satisfied Kate withdraws her finger and steps back.

"Now if you don't have anything else I'm going to the hospital to see my MAN-friend." Oh she can have some fun with this. If she is going to have to give up the details there will be payback.

"I'll text you later with details about visiting hours. I know Rick would love to see the gang from the Twelfth now that he's out of ICU." With that Kate turns and strides to the door, pulls it open and flees the Morgue.

Approaching Bellevue Hospital.

Approaching the hospital on foot was a bad mistake. There are not as many press and fans outside the main entrance as there were in the first few days but there are more than enough. Too many for her comfort. Never-the-less Kate continues on towards the hospital's main entrance. She's made the decision that she is with Rick come hell or high water, and dealing with publicity pretty much falls into that category.

Steeling her features, she wishes it was summer and she had sun glasses to cover her eyes. Instead she pushes on and steadfastly ignores the questions and the flashes from the cameras. The cries of 'Nikki' are surprisingly less common than 'Detective Beckett' or 'Kate'. Then there is one name that throws her, stutters her stride and almost makes her break her disciplined face-forward, zero engagement with the crowd or the 'enemy' paparazzi. 'Mrs Castle!' the voice calls. Despite the hullabaloo and clamour of other calls she hears this one clearly and unexpectedly it cleaves her heart open. The uncontrollable speed with which the near catastrophic wave of emotion hammers her is barely manageable. Dropping her head, she picks up the pace, fighting the instinct to sprint, it takes less than thirty seconds before Kate's long limbs have carried her into the Bellevue lobby leaving the pack behind.

Her head still crowded with the almost overwhelming cacophony of conflicting and contrasting emotions that throb inside, she automatically starts towards the ICU before she finally remembers that Rick would no longer be there. Mrs Castle. She can't shake it.

Where was he now? 16E, 22 – Ward 16 East, Room 22. She'll head there in a minute but first she needs time to compose herself.

Glancing around she spies a vacant space in the lobby with unoccupied seats and no one in proximity. Suddenly grateful for the space she strides over and sinks into the middle seat, her shoulders slump and her face tilts forward as she fights to get control of her head and her heart. She focuses on her feet and slows her breathing and forces the silent, deeper inhales through her nose and on the count of two breathes out for three exhaling through her mouth. After three repeat sets she is satisfied and turns her mind to what just occurred outside and that name.

'Mrs Castle'.

Lanie had teased her with the title once in the early days. Taunted is probably more accurate. But since they had really been together it had never been uttered as her name. Hell even Rick hadn't said it. During their discussions about their future it had never been raised. Lanie was right about one thing. Title is more appropriate than name. Something she could appreciate now. Much more in keeping with the powerful symbolism that becoming, being, embodying Mrs Castle would be. It encompasses everything. What she desires, and needs. But more what she feared she would never be so many times. Most recently less than a week ago. But also what she once feared she could be if she gave and took the chance. Just another ex-Mrs Castle. She knows better now. Much better. Certain and safe. Always.

Whatever it was about the title, they had not even got as far as having that particular discussion. Kate had figured it would keep at least until after they had become engaged. Events of last Thursday have shaken that confidence and complacency about their future. They, and she especially, had wasted too much time already. It was time to pick up the pace. But how would Rick respond?

Approaching the ward she knows she is in the right place when she spots Hastings and Fredericks from the Twelfth. She is grateful when they simply nod to her in acknowledgement and resume their chatting whilst covering both directions on the access corridor.

Room 22.

She knocks and enters the room. Her cop's eye notices the differences between ICU and this general surgical ward room. It is still a private room. It's smaller, just a little perhaps because of the en-suite bathroom she can see on the far side, catching a glimpse through the partially open door of the shower. The room is much less open than the ICU room and she likes the privacy this affords. She was tired of feeling like an occupant of a fishbowl in ICU.

"Hey" Rick's voice snaps her attention from the surroundings and onto her man.

"Hey yourself." She meets his eyes and drinks in the sight of him. He is reclined in bed but more upright than previously. His right arm is strapped into his side immobilizing the shoulder.

"I come bearing gifts of communication." She hefts her bag.

"Fantastic! It's been too fucking long." He doesn't mean to let his frustrations show but if Kate is put off by his expletive she doesn't show it.

"Rick?" His name poses a posse of questions that she will get answered. But first.

She crosses quickly to him and placing her bag down she hooks his left arm and leans down to kiss him. Firmly. Possibly harder than she originally intended. But he is pushing back. His tongue is demanding entrance to her mouth and for the first time in a week she needs it. And what began as relatively chaste is certainly more. It won't escalate from that but it assuages the need in both of them. At least temporarily.

"I missed you." Kate can't respond except to grip both his hands and kiss him again until she finds her voice.

"Why don't you tell me what happened after I left you this morning in ICU until you ended up here.

So he does. And he hardly embellishes it at all.

Story time had been interrupted by lunch which Rick barely touched. Before heading for a comfort break Kate had delivered his electronic bounty. So whilst Kate is in the bathroom, Rick caresses his technology and fires his phone and tablet up.

His injuries are going to an issue for some time. This is going to be interesting. He can hold a device in his right hand and use his left to swipe and type. A reversal of his usual technique. Inefficient and time consuming. No doubt frustrating as well. He wishes he had spent more time trying to perfect even-handedness when he researched it for Derrick Storm.

On the front of his iPad is a post-it note. Rick looks at the writing. Two distinct handwriting forms cover the yellow paper. The first is Alexis' and the second looks alarming like Paula's.

Alexis's message is simple. 'Love you Daddy. See you this afternoon. XxXxX'

The second is Paula's and it is almost as simple but certainly more direct. 'Stay off Twitter for moment. We're still cleaning it up. Will come visit soon. Luv PH. ps Don't fucking scare me like that again!'

Lost in the renewed familiarity of the technology he missed Kate emerging from the bathroom.

"Rick" It is the plaintive tone that makes him cease all involvement and look up immediately.

"I need you to listen for a minute."

He nods and finds his voice. Kate?"

She can hear the concern in his voice.

"I met, or rather bumped into Josh the other day – you were just coming out of surgery and still in recovery. He works here at Bellevue – just started apparently. I didn't know he was back in New York. I bumped into him – almost literally – in a hospital corridor. We talked for a bit, probably helped with closure for both of us. I told him about us – about our plans. I don't know why. Well perhaps because I wanted to make clear to him that I choose you. I just forgot to mention it before. I'm sorry.

"I trust you Kate. Please tell me that you know that? He squeezes her hands.

"We have never cheated in our relationships. Before us, no matter how close we got, no matter the temptation. Especially when one or both of us were with others. I can't say it didn't hurt but the honourable things we did helped bring us to this. I trust you now just the same as in the past. More so because we are together, and we are sharing, talking."

"Thank you Rick. I know I've kept things to myself in the past. Things that matter between us. I'm trying to be more open. I hadn't seen or spoken to Josh since he returned my keys before I left hospital. He had accused you of being a danger to me, of simply using me. He also gloated that your absence meant that I believed you guilty and responsible for my shooting, for Roy's death, for the danger. I never believed that. Just I wasn't ready for you. I wasn't ready for anything. I've told you this and admitted that I now know I handled it so utterly badly. Shutting you out was the wrong decision. But I did know then that you were and are the right man for me. Even if I wasn't ready then. But I am now.

"Then today. Something else happened.

"I was entering the hospital through the front entrance and the press and crowds were there. Calling my name. Names." She can't help the involuntary eye roll and she's Rick's delightfully compromised smirk is infused with guilt as he acknowledges that she is still not always the greatest fan of her literary alter ego and particularly the name. But she's not going to let him off so easily. She glares back at him and gets the result she wanted. She loves the guilty boy look on him. Best she not tell him how much she truly loves that look and what it can do the normally serious career professional.

"That name doesn't bother me so much now. Still not happy with it Castle. No, someone called out 'Mrs Castle.' It threw me completely. Confused and scared me and…"

"Kate does this mean…."

"Shhhh. Please Rick. Please let me finish." She pleads with her voice and her eyes and her body turned to his in supplication.

"It means I want to marry you. I want to be Mrs Castle. I know I have told you this and we have talked and promised each other. And I mean it with all my heart. It was just that it caught me off guard. My future name. But it didn't scare me. It sounded right. Like it suited me. I want so much to be worthy of it. And to keep it. One of my deepest fears – one that held me back for so long - is that it - no I mean we – we won't last. We won't last. That I'll just be another ex-Mrs Castle." She has sunk down on the chair close enough for him to reach out and touch her. He strokes her face gently.

"The reason I was so thrown and scared today is not because I could be Mrs Castle but because there is always a chance I won't be. Too many actually. Last Thursday and for so many hours I thought we'd lost the chance. Missed another opportunity again. This time permanently. I was scared. I still am. There is so much that could go wrong. The détente with the Dragon may break. Tyson. Any number of whack jobs. Our jobs carry risk. Not everyday but too often. I thought at one time that I could get you to step back and not share the risks. But I need you too much. All the time – at home and at work. And I know there will come a time when we have to choose and one or both of us will need to step back from that but I'm being selfish now.

"But what it means more than anything is that I want a life with you for as long as we last. Both our lifetimes. It means I want to marry you Rick. I will marry you. I will take your name for the rest of our lives. At work I think I would like to still be Beckett – if only for my parents. But everywhere else and where it matters in our hearts and legally it will Castle. Or Rodgers.

"If you'll have me?" Why is she even posing this question now? Is she that uncertain, fearful when he promised them Always?

"Beckett? Umm Kate? Are you proposing? Right now?" Rick's doing his best not to sound incredulous but this is not what he expected.

"What! Umm. No!" Damn she's tongue-tied. "Maybe?"

"You don't sound sure, Love. I want you to be sure."

"Oh I'm sure." She's taken a breath and got her emotions if not under control, at least checked from their unplanned diversion. She speaks again.

"But this isn't a proposal. Not today. But not because I don't want to. I do more than anything."

"Damn!" He sounds disappointed but there is an element of the showman and the child in his exclamation.

"I want our proposal not to be born out of desperation or extreme circumstances. I want it to be a happy event. Celebrating our love and our destiny. Not fear or pain. Can we do that? Wait?

"Kate. Of course we can." I can be patient, even if you can't." He teases.

She pushes him a little, fires up the Beckett glare and then leans in to snatch a kiss from his lips.

"Best non-proposal ever!" She loves that he can take the positive from this. She's never good with words but for as long as she has known him, and before, his words rescue her, fix her. Tie them together.

"I just wanted to tell you that I want nothing more. Just you. Only you. You in my heart, our home, our bed, between my legs."

"Really know how to sweet talk a guy, Beckett. Just a damn shame I can't do the last three right now."

Author's Note

Thank you for all your ongoing patience and support.

Appreciation Part II will be up by the weekend.