The horrible feeling that had turned yesterday into a frenzied mix of phone calls and tense silence had finally passed, allowing Castle to relax for the first time in over a day and a half.
More so, it had served to only strengthen the deep level of admiration and respect he felt for Beckett, the seasoned detective's ability to stay focused and detail oriented in an emotionally challenging situation nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Castle would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that her disappearance had worn on his nerves a little more than he had expected, his affinity for her apparently clouding what he always considered to be a well-balanced, chaos-resistant mindset.
Seeing her lean against that police car, looking so abandoned, lost, injured, and scared…it was a disturbing sight that would stay with him for a long time.
After directing the ambulance, he had called Martha, knowing that he would only be in the way upstairs.
His mother had been relieved and grateful to hear the news that the team was finally back together, allowing them a chance to refocus and start going after Steward at full speed.
He'd also requested for her to call Jessop and thank him for his help in the matter, knowing that without the unconventional assistance, the proverbial olive branch Jessop had offered in hopes of reigniting his love affair with Martha, they would still be in a world of hurt.
Speaking of a world of hurt.
Carrying two large coffees in his hand, he followed Beckett past the check-in desk of the Emergency Department, her brief flick of the badge enough to make the nurses nod and point at a room three doors down to the right.
Following the direction in undisguised urgency, Beckett turned around briefly, as though she wanted to make sure he was still there, taking the time to smile in gratitude at the sugary treat that had began to bond them even more than before, then resumed to storm down the corridor until she arrived at her destination.
Needless to say, Ryan was there, the detective busy exchanging cheesy puns with his partner, the lightheartedness and relief quickly spreading to the rest of the team.
Beckett had been right, Esposito did look a lot better without half his face caked in dried blood, most of the cuts and bruises responsible now hidden beneath an assortment of gauze pads.
Thankful for the knowledge gained from his previous research experience, Castle placed the coffee on the small tray nearby and looked over at the many monitors connected to the injured detective, noting that all the numbers and squiggly lines were in order, then let his gaze drift to the assortment of x-rays against the lightboard, covering nearly every body part.
"It's good to have you back…", Beckett greeted and leaned forward to hug Esposito, then placing a fleeting kiss on his cheek before straightening back out, "How are you feeling? What did the doctors find?"
"Nothing that won't heal in time…", he countered, that cocky attitude slowly returning from its painful absence, "How are you?"
Upon his question, Beckett raised an insecure hand to the bruise on her cheek that had only gained in size and color, then shook her head.
"Nothing that won't heal in time, Espo."
They both looked at each other quietly for many long moments, undoubtedly reliving the harrowing hours spent in captivity, not knowing if either one of them was going to make it out alive.
Add in the fact that they knew each other longer than anybody in the room; Castle remained stoically quiet, giving them the time needed to work through the things left unsaid, the periods of uncertainty and fear for the other person's life.
Finally, Beckett straightened out and turned toward the x-rays, blinking away the tears in her eyes before anybody could see them- except Castle.
"So, what's all this, Espo? Everything still where it belongs?"
"Two cracks in the 6th and 7th posterior ribs on the right side, thankfully no pulmonary contusion or pneumothorax.", Castle noted and pointed at the chest x-ray, "There's no displacement in the bones, so they should heal properly with enough rest. He needs to be careful though, if he pushes it too hard, it causes serious issues like pneumonia. We don't want that. The cat scan of his skull isn't showing any obvious hemorrhaging or fractures, so that means our friend here has a bad concussion, not a brain bleed. Still unpleasant, but a lot less deadly and explains his previously decreased LOC. Better be prepared to have a nurse wake you up every few hours and answer those charming questions about your name, birthdate and day of the week. Oh, and you show a fracture in your right scaphoid, in English, you broke your wrist, but it's just a hairline fracture. It more than likely came from you beating the daylights out of the guys attacking you."
The room stayed quiet for several seconds after he finished his thorough explanation, causing him to shrug with a wily smile.
"I did a lot of research when it came to traumatic injuries while writing my Derrick Storm series. That's how I met Doctor Gervais, the Emergency Room doctor at this fine hospital here. We spent weeks talking during his coffee break."
"And I wouldn't want to miss it in the world…", came the genial words from the entrance of the private room, where a gray-haired man stood, smiling broadly, cocking his head at the direction of the police officers before patting Castle's shoulder, "It's been too long, my friend!"
"It certainly has, Roman. I am glad to see you…despite the circumstances."
"I am sure that holds true for most people who visit my…establishment. It's just not every day I have a writer give a diagnosis to the next of kin before I have a chance to.", the plain-looking man with the slim built countered.
"Well, I have to stay in practice. Besides, that's my one and only chance to get to know Esposito inside and out. Literally. Nice liver you got there by the way."
His genial chatting session was disrupted when Beckett appeared next to him, holding one of the coffees in her hand, trying to draw the doctor's attention.
"Is he right? There are a couple of breaks but there's nothing life threatening?"
"Thankfully.", Gervais said and nodded toward Esposito, "When he first came in I was very worried about cerebral hemorrhaging and internal injuries but thankfully all of those tests came back negative…which is not to say that he isn't in rough shape. We stitched up the lacerations but he's a black and blue mess beneath that hospital gown, so he's gonna be hurting for quite a while. Between those cracked ribs and moderate concussion, he should be off duty for at least two or three weeks, then return to very restricted desk duty, I'd say only a few hours every day. I know how you guys like to play tough and pretend to be invincible but I wouldn't want to push it. The chance of complications is too great to risk it. I did put that into my report to Captain Montgomery as well. Tell him I said hi when you see him."
"So that means I get to go home?", came Esposito's innocent question, answered with a firm headshake from the doctor.
"No way. Not today. 48 hours observation. Then we can talk about release. First, we gotta thaw you out, fill you up with liquids and monitor your progress. Your body has been through a lot, more than it may realize at this moment. I want to make sure there're doctors around if and when that finally happens. You were very lucky, Detective. Let's not change that now."
Although he wasn't the least bit surprised by the answer, Castle felt bad seeing both Ryan and Esposito's expression change to mild disappointment, the boys undoubtedly ready to leave this place behind and move on…heck they all wanted to.
"That's what you get for playing hero cop, Espo…", Beckett added and took a sip of her coffee.
Only an experienced eye could see the slight trembling of her hand, signs that the stress of the past few hours hadn't left her body quite yet.
Truth be told, under the circumstances, Castle would be a lot happier seeing her in a hospital bed right now as well.
"I am going to get you set up in a regular room here shortly, Detective." Doctor Gervais continued and tapped the foot of the gurney, "My advice for the crew upstairs is to eat your meals, take your meds, shut up and be a good patient. With any luck you'll get out of here on time. But if you resist, nobody will be able to help you. Resistance is futile."
Then, with a broad smile, the dainty man left the treatment room again, continuing his round of patients for the afternoon.
"Resistance is futile? Tell me that guy is joking, man.", Esposito complained and glared at Castle, then flinched, before reaching up to touch his sore jaw.
"He doesn't joke. He just has a sardonic type of humor. I'd take his words to heart if I were you. What's another 48hr in captivity after what you've just been through? Trading cold concrete floors and restraints for fluffy sheets, mind-numbing meds and high-calorie hospital food? It's like a vacation."
"That's what I told him too. But to his defense, he hasn't seen his face yet.", Ryan chimed in and stood up, the hand on his partner's shoulder never moving, "I gotta run home and change my clothes and check on Jenny. I'll be back this evening to see you. Think you can stay out of trouble until then, bro?"
"He will.", Beckett answered for him, then reached over to nudge Esposito's knee, "We're going to head back to the office now. It's time we start gunning for Steward again. We have one day left before elections. And it would really make my day if we could get him charged before he can think of more ways to escape the law. I'll call you once I slap on those cuffs, Espo."