—–

"Will you let me check us in first?" he said. His voice was low, bleak, and it only fed her panic.

"Can't you just tell me now?"

"It's somewhat involved."

God.

But she nodded and gestured, and he let out a long breath and took the little bag from her - they had packed their random odds and ends and yesterday's clothes into a bag he'd bought in the hotel's salon. Leather. Beautiful.

He had to tell her something. In the interests of honesty.

Surely if he had slept with Jacinda he would have told her before sleeping with her?

Her stomach soured; the beer, the dinner-

"Kate?"

She jerked forward on the sidewalk and stepped into the airport after him, not seeing any of it. Blind with anxiety.

She was on birth control as a matter of course, but there hadn't been any protection. No one had asked, are you clean, and oh God, what a stupid idiot. Oh God. What a dumb girl she'd been, letting that feeling get the best of her and sweep her away.

He took her hand and tugged her towards the airline counter. He gave her a sharp look, apparently noticing how clammy and limp her hand was.

"Rick," she said faintly. She felt faint. She felt like she might throw up. She cleared her throat when he didn't hear her. "Castle."

He halted in the middle of the concourse, people flowing around them, the line back towards the door and roped off. "What's wrong? You look like you're about to throw up."

"I can't - just talk. Just tell me. I can't stand here and not-"

"Kate," he gritted out, glancing behind him towards the airline counter. "There are kiosks. Just let me-"

"No. Tell me."

He released her hand, dropped the bag on the floor. "I made a deal." He stared at her; she had no comprehension. He scrubbed both hands down his face. "I made a deal to save your life."

"What." His face. His face was - she didn't understand. "You made a deal. With who?" With- "Him?" His eyes were so dead, so bleak. "How… are you part of this?"

"What?" he croaked. "No. Part of what? No."

Her hands were shaking again, and it wasn't a hangover. "Made a deal with who, Castle. Who did you-"

"A man contacted me. After you were shot, he received a package in the mail. From Captain Montgomery. He was too late to prevent the shooter, but he could - he can keep you safe. He's blackmailing-"

"Who?" she choked. "How - who is - tell me who it is-"

"I don't know, I don't know, Kate. I swear. Anonymous guy; he showed me a few things, things we already knew but weren't made public. He calls me sometimes. To warn you off."

She jerked back, lifted a hand to her mouth. He stared at her, his head bobbing, his body half turning away. A glance back to the kiosks before the airline counter.

She couldn't think. It wasn't there. Nothing was there. Things she'd built up in her head, the panic attack she'd been half inside of, the heartsick way she'd expected a different confession.

She had nothing.

"Ah, I'll just… check in," he said quietly. "Give you a second."

He glanced at her, another moment where he studied her face, but she was struggling just to breathe. To keep breathing.

He met a guy. Made a deal. For her life.

And half her wall in rubble, the other mortared with the fear, the crushing terrible certainty, that she was marked with a crosshairs, that a bullet had her name on it.

Castle grimaced, turned his head.

And then he walked away.

—–