Confession

When the perpetrators were brought to the station, Kate immediately sent them to the interrogation rooms: the man to Esposito and the woman to Ryan. While the villains are shocked by this abrupt turn of events, it is much easier to find out from them what it was that Castle did not please them so terribly. And what a savage way of killing was chosen! Surely it had to be some elaborate preparation, and while Rick was fighting for his life, Kate was cursing herself for the hundredth time for not having had enough time. What if she hadn't made it at all? Beckett covered her eyes with her hand and took a deep breath, partly overcoming the frustration that was cramping her chest. And if she, Kate, had taken Alexis' call seriously, then Castle, alive and well, would be standing beside her now, blowing her mind with his indescribable fantasies, and she, unapproachable outwardly, would only be rolling her eyes merrily, and snorting mockingly. And she would definitely feel better, not the way it turned out. After all, even the teenage girl had more than shrewd insight.

- Beckett, how is he? - Roy stealthily came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. Kate flinched and bowed her head guiltily.

- She'll survive, but the intoxication is very strong,-Beckett both recognized and didn't recognize her voice,- if you don't mind, I...

- Go ahead, call me later.

- Okay, - she said huskily, and stepped to her desk to get her jacket.

All the way to the hospital Beckett chased away her thin thoughts, but when she spotted two figures, frozen in a sorrowful embrace, an indelible feeling of guilt came over her with great force. And while she carefully chose the right words, she tried to move as quietly as possible. As she drew nearer, breathless, Alexis turned to her with her face swollen with tears. It was painful to look at the girl, and, looking down, Beckett asked in a quiet, guilty voice:

- Well, how is he?

- He'll live! Thank you, Kate, - Alexis sobbed, holding her grandmother tightly by the elbow, - you have no idea how grateful we are to you!

Beckett shrugged, "I'm not much of a hero," and glanced anxiously through the glass at Castle, who lay unconscious. The writer's entire body was entangled in a variety of wires and tubes, and the oxygen mask hid half of his face. The doctor bent over the patient. He adjusted the blanket, then, looking at the monitor, wrote something in his notebook.

- You don't know who to thank,- Beckett said in an alien voice. - Because if it weren't for you, it wouldn't occur to me that Castle would be dying. And where is the starting point of your concern?

- You see, Kate, - the girl sobbed tearfully, - when my father told me about the mysterious letter and the meeting he'd had, I somehow remembered a September evening. It seemed like nothing special: a cold wind, rain outside the window, a space show until midnight, and a huge pizza that we had successfully finished. The last episode was about to end and we were yawning loudly and longingly when Grandma came home: she had a rendezvous with some old friends. She had prepared for the rendezvous with enthusiasm and in advance; she had gone out in high spirits, but she came back as a nettle-slapped woman: eyes burning with dry tears, lips twisted with persistent disappointment, and shoulders slumped in mirth. Daddy, immediately aroused, surrounded her with care, and dragged her into the kitchen. While the omelet was frying, he poured her some wine and gave her a terrific theory about old friends and their black ingratitude. And I remember these words as if they had been spoken yesterday.

"You see, honey," Dad said persuasively, waving his hands as he did so, "sometimes these encounters are somehow not at all happy, but rather bitterly disappointing, even though everything started out great. You haven't seen your friends in years. Each of you has its own unique life, but a sudden late call - and you zealously prepare for the meeting: the clothes there, beautiful hair, the conditional place and a lot of anticipation and speculation, but the old friend is not a person who is glad to see you, but just an old closet with "shriveled skeletons. And you begin to take them apart, the two of you, laughing and joking, and suddenly you stumble upon a perfectly decent mummy, from which a particular bloodthirsty spirit has not yet escaped them. The warning bells are ringing right in your ears, but smug you don't pay any attention to it. "Shadows of the past - what bullshit!" - with a light heart you say and move on, as suddenly the sashes "open," and the "mummy" sinks a yellowed, stiff claw into your throat. And it is not the grip of an infirm old man, but of an insane, ruthless terminator, from whom there is no escape, nor will there be any!"

By the end of the monologue, Dad got so incredibly serious that we laughed our heads off and forgot. That conversation came to mind, just yesterday. And it was as if a needle had been jammed into my heart. I was still thinking thin thoughts, though I drove them away. I even tried to find something to do, but subconsciously the feeling of anxiety, doubt, and suspicion prompted me, though not immediately, to call you.

- You did the right thing, Alexis, - Kate patted the girl on the shoulder encouragingly, - you are a wonderful daughter of your father! Martha?

- We're all right, we're all right! - Mrs. Rogers waved her hand languidly. - We will, with your permission, go away for a little while, won't we?

- All right, - responded Beckett faintly. Stubbornly biting her lip, she stared after the women for a long moment: Holding hands, they strode slowly down the corridor until they disappeared behind the elevator doors. Only then did Kate turn to Castle. And it didn't matter that she, a cop, wasn't being rebuked for her slowness, because, really, there was no excuse for it. Really, though, Kate hoped to find the right words. When the time was right, but in the meantime... Clasping her hands tightly in front of her, Kate stared fixedly at one point - Castle's face - and swayed slightly with nervous tension.

- It's gonna be okay, Castle! - she reassured herself unconvincingly, because she felt as if a nerve had bloated on her body. Probably no one in the world she wished to recover as well as Rick, because there, in the room with Castle, her soul ached. And Rick was no longer just a partner to her, but a friend with a capital T. Someone who would go through hell and back again. The kind who was always ready to sacrifice himself for you. Someone you wanted to hold your hand tightly and never, ever let go of you.

- I'm sorry, Castle, - Kate whispered, fighting the lump in her throat, - now it's my turn to admit guilt... And if I'd dropped everything and rushed to you right away, instead of talking to Lanie for an extra twenty minutes, it would have been a different story... I'm sorry, Rick...

- Miss? - The tall doctor she'd only recently seen from behind leaned over her sympathetically. - You don't look well! Can I get you some water?

- No, thank you, I'm fine. I am perfectly all right! - Kate smiled through her strength. - It's the chronic lack of sleep, but it's not me... It's about him. Can I see him? I really must!

- And who are you, may I ask?

Kate readily took a badge out of her pocket.

- Detective Beckett, I'm here on direct orders from the police department. Mr. Castle and I have been cooperating for a long time, - something uncomfortable was firmly propping her up inside, and Beckett shrugged nervously. It wasn't often that one's own lies looked so repulsive, disgusting in one's own eyes. True, the internal contradictions had no effect on the appearance of the detective, and the doctor understandably bowed his head.

- I see, but he is unconscious, so it is absolutely useless to talk to him.

- I don't need words to tell him how I feel. I've never needed to. And that's the clearest thing for both of us to understand.

- Then you can pass.

- All right, - Beckett whispered, raising her head proudly. She had no doubt that if they switched places, Rick would never leave her side. His pure, unselfish and selfless friendship was the best thing she had right now. And every word he said from the heart, and genuine sympathy, and the strength of his handshake, and the desire to move forward would surely create such conditions that Castle would quickly go on the mend.

Sitting down on a stool to the right of the headboard, Kate immediately found his cool fingers. Castle's face was whiter than the sheet on which he lay, his features sharpened, and Beckett felt the treacherous moisture on her lashes. Even now she could not tell him openly what her heart was aching for, and so she spoke measuredly to herself:

- I'm here, I'm right beside you, Castle, and I care deeply for your community and your life. Alas, I will never tell it to your face, but like now, I can. You have taught me to be glad that I am, that I am a woman, and not just a cop; that there is a man willing to take care of me. And even though it will be very difficult between us for a long time to come, I want you to survive, and to come back. I'm so used to your coffee and your friendly smiles that your pain feels personal to me, so those bastards who insulted me without knowing it will get what they deserve. If they were careless about what is dear to me, they'll get the judge's full price, and I... - Beckett hesitated, swallowed hard, - and we'll be waiting for you. Always...

"Always!" - involuntarily she repeated to herself, and then another and another. Such a simple, such an ordinary word, and what a deep meaning it contained! "Always" was a warming cup of latte on the rainiest day. "Always" is moral support in life's most difficult moments. "Always" is the warmth of his hand in hers and such a firm yet gentle handshake. And now, at the end of two years of friendship, being near, always and everywhere, Rick had made her so accustomed to his constant presence that Kate could not even explain how difficult and unbearably difficult her life had been without him. And now, if she didn't twist her arm as usual, it wasn't any abstract "we" waiting for him, but her, honestly speaking for herself. Always!