Chapter 14

Castle walked briskly off to the radio station, hiding his worry that he was leaving Beckett to her own devices when she wasn't really able to deal with anything more than a cup of coffee and an ice pack. He'd just get this organised and get right back to her. His stride speeded up.

A few moments later, he looked at the door of the radio station, and knocked.

A short pause, such as might have been the time it took to cut to commercials, later, someone hollered, "C'mon up." Castle did, and found himself in the familiar environment of a radio broadcast studio.

"Hey," he said.

A forty-ish woman, casually dressed, with russet-brown hair and a sharp nose, looked up. "Hey," she said. "I'm Annie Lex. Come in properly, so I can see you, and then you can tell me why you're here."

Castle took another step, as the woman expertly started a sequence of music. She pressed the Go button, and then sat back, looking up again.

"Wow!" she said. "You're Richard Castle!" She blinked rapidly. "You've come up to look after Detective Beckett, haven't you? I knew it couldn't all be fiction."

"Uh" –

"She's amazing, but you knew that. Did she send you here?"

"Uh – Officer Dermot and Mrs Tousa told me to come see you."

Ms Lex briefly looked disappointed.

"Beckett's pretty doped up."

"And you've come up from the city to look after her?"

"She's my partner." Castle smiled, at full PR million-wattage, which tended to distract any straight woman between twelve and a hundred and twelve. "Anyway, I heard that you wanted me to sign your book and I was going to offer to be interviewed, if you wanted me to?"

"Well, hell yeah," Ms Lex said. "Just say when. I'll want to do some promos so that everyone knows to tune in." She grinned. "Tune in, turn on."

"But not drop out," Castle capped the line. "Mrs Tousa asked if I'd be there Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, so any time but that. I guess I'll be here for at least another two weeks." Privately, he thought he'd be there till he could take Beckett back to the city, which could be at least five. He'd have to go back then. Alexis would only be away at camp for another six weeks.

"That's great. Okay, look, can I have your cell number – promise not to stalk you, and anyway Detective Beckett's not someone I'd want to cross – imagine taking down an armed robber without even a nightstick – and then I'll text you two or three dates and times." She produced a rueful smile. "I gotta run with the weather report now. Scribble it down for me?"

Castle complied. He liked this woman. "Bring your book, and I'll sign it for you. I guess you won't be able to go to the library with it."

"No. But thanks. You take care now, and take care of Detective Beckett. The town won't like it if she gets hurt again."

"I wasn't planning on letting her," Castle said.

"I can see that. Bye now."

"Bye," said Castle, and let himself out, closing the studio and outer doors quietly. He felt rather as if these small-town institutions and their people had run him over several times with the largest logging truck in existence. Any of them could have given Paula a run for her money.

He ambled down the street in the sunshine, aiming back towards the café and Beckett, when he was hailed.

"You new here?" asked a square-set man, dressed as a state trooper. Castle, an avid observer of small details, noted both the air of authority and the small signs of rank. This must be the local police chief.

"Yes," he said. "I'm Rick Castle. I came up to look after Detective Beckett. Captain Montgomery sent me."

"The author." Castle nodded. "I'm Chief Tully. Good to see you. If Detective Beckett needs anything, anything at all, you let one of us know and we'll arrange for it. She did real good."

"Officer Dermot told me, when he came out yesterday to check she was okay."

"He's a good kid. Still, better that you're here. He is still a kid, and she'd run rings around him." Castle blinked. "Aw, c'mon. You can't tell me she isn't used to getting her own way – and thinking she's invincible. I got the impression her captain wasn't too surprised about what she did."

"Mm," Castle temporised. Montgomery hadn't been impressed, but he hadn't argued much with Castle's terror-fuelled fury about Beckett's string of injuries.

"Anyways, you just holler if there's anything."

"Thanks," Castle said, and they passed on. As soon as Chief Tully couldn't see his face, Castle began to think frantically. That comment about thinking she was invincible…Castle had seen Beckett do some damn brave – and damn stupid – things (a suicidal nanny with a butcher's knife sprang to mind), but in general she'd calculated the risks she was taking. That, and her injuries, strongly suggested that she hadn't been calculating, or had miscalculated consistently. He slid out of the path of any traffic, and dialled Ryan.

"Hey, Castle," Ryan said coolly.

"Hi. I'm up in the tiny town of Walton" –

"Where?"

"Upstate. It's where Beckett's cabin is."

"Okay." Suddenly there was friendliness. "She okay?"

"I was going to ask you that. What's she been doing to get injured that much in that short a time?"

Silence fell.

"What aren't you telling me, Ryan?"

More silence. Castle could almost see Ryan's worried face, weighing up the twin dangers of Beckett and Castle.

"It wasn't much," Ryan tried.

"Yeah. So she got two concussions and two serious arm injuries but it's not much, huh? What else was she doing that she didn't get injured with?"

"Uh" –

"So there was something."

"She faced down Finn Rourke in his own office," Ryan admitted.

"She did what?"

"Intimidated the fuck out of him. Right up in his face, man. And he caved."

Castle gleeped helplessly. Finn Rourke wasn't someone to mess with, and Beckett had evidently handed him his balls and told him to eat them. "So how come she was concussed and punched out? If Rourke caved, he'd make damn sure nothing happened to her or the Westies would be reduced to ashes."

"First up was a gym nut dealing steroids. Didn't like being arrested. Took a swing straight at her ribs, LT said" –

"LT? What the hell?"

"Went out with her. Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Yeah," Castle said, shoving down the stabbing pain that she'd taken someone else along. He was here now, and she'd kissed him.

"Okay, so he swung and missed, but he got her arm."

"Didn't Lanie take a look at it?"

"They're not talking. So no, Lanie didn't. We thought she'd gone to the ER about it, but after the second go when she was taken into the ER in a bus, they said she should'a had a sling, so we guessed she didn't."

Castle sighed. "And the second time?"

"That was a screw-up. We arrested a pimp for chopping one of Rourke's men into shreds, and the dumbassed officer who put him in Interrogation didn't shackle him. Beckett went in first and never stood a chance. She hit the table on the way down. Bastard was hiding behind the door. So Montgomery put her on medical leave."

"And she rode her Harley up to Walton."

"She what now?"

"Rode her Harley up to Walton, then tackled an armed robber without her gun and got shot," Castle said. "Every single person I've met told me all about it."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you can say, Ryan? Oh?"

"Castle, stop bugging Ryan. He's the one kept you informed."

"Espo. You want to explain?"

"Don't bitch at me. You went. Beckett buried herself in work. And then she started taking a few more chances, like facing down Rourke. But that sonofabitch in Interrogation was sheer accident."

"And taking down an armed man, unarmed?"

"Was straight up fucking dumb, bro, and you know it and we know it, but none of us were there."

"I know," Castle said heavily. "I know. But now she's got six weeks in a sling, most likely, and months of PT before she'll be allowed off desk duty. There's no way she could raise and fire."

"What actually happened?"

"Bullet ripped her rotator cuff."

"Well, fuck."

"Yeah."

"And you're up there in the back end of nowhere."

"Yeah."

"Good. Stop her doing anything else dumb."

Castle stared at the phone, but fortunately was too astonished to comment.

"Seeya," Espo said.

"Bye," Ryan added.

"Bye," Castle managed, weakly, and the call ended.

So. Beckett had been overdoing it, and then she'd lost all sense of proportion. And here they were, with her injured and him looking after her.

Suddenly, he smiled. If she was going to stay a cop, she'd get injured, much as he hated the thought, but he'd be there to look after her. And, he thought, to temper her risk-taking. His smile faded. She'd taken those risks because he wasn't there.

Well, there was a simple solution to that. Be there. Always and forever.

That wouldn't be a hardship.

When Castle returned to the café, Beckett was slumped in her chair, looking as if she hadn't moved at all since he left. He assessed her as exhausted, and sat down, taking her hand. "Wanna go home?"

"Yeah."

"I did the shopping," he said, "so we can go right now. I'll just pay."

"You can try," Beckett said, which he didn't understand at all.

He went up to the till, and asked for the bill.

"Which table?" the cashier asked.

"Oh, that one," Castle replied, pointing vaguely in Beckett's direction.

"Detective Beckett? She doesn't pay. She doesn't pay for anything, but all she's had is coffee anyways. She saved my cousin."

"But" – Castle started.

"Nope. She doesn't pay a single cent in here."

Castle gave up, stuffed twenty dollars in the tip jar, and returned to assist Beckett to leave. Two minutes into the car, and her eyes had closed. Castle drove carefully home, unpacked all of the groceries and then the contents of his newly acquired cooler into the fridge and freezer, set out two painkillers and a glass of water next to the recliner, and only then decanted Beckett from the car to the recliner. He propped her arm in approved fashion, and smiled. "Next up, ice pack."

"I guess."

"Then you can sleep in here or sleep in the sunshine – I'll move it – no, I'll move you, because the other one's still outside and you can sit and watch my chiselled muscularity flex and bend as I bring this one out."

"Yeah," Beckett said, in lieu of any snark. "Okay." Her eyelids drooped and closed. Castle gave her two minutes, and then took his shoes off to avoid any noise which would wake her, put an ice pack on her shoulder without her so much as twitching, made himself some lunch, and considered his next steps as he munched his sandwich.

First, a good dinner – actually, first, probably some sandwiches or cold meat pie, when Beckett woke up. But before that, put the other recliner ready, in the sunshine. He did that, before he could forget. Beckett was still sleeping, and hadn't noticed his few moments of absence at all.

Late into the afternoon, very little else had happened. Beckett had woken, eaten, and been re-settled outside in the sunshine with her Kindle and more ice packs. Castle had written periodically, and procrastinated extensively. Situation normal for his writing process. There had been some desultory chat, some refills of water, some coffee.

There had not been any deep and meaningful discussion of Castle's information from Ryan and Espo. Also situation normal for their relationship, although, to be fair, Beckett didn't actually know about the exchange of information. Castle told himself that he still needed to think it through carefully before opening a conversation with such high likelihood of going drastically wrong.

Dinner came, and went. Beckett ate more, but less than Castle thought that she should. He didn't press. She wasn't a child to be coaxed. He settled her with coffee, brought the second recliner in, in case it should rain overnight, and then installed himself on the couch where he could, if he so desired, hold her hand.

He did so desire.

He sneaked his hand across, over the piled pillows, and found that there was a slim hand just in the perfect position to be petted. His fingers curled around hers, warming her cool skin, and then stroking with just his fingertips, tiny, delicate movements, barely there; though her hand was swamped within his. He liked that. He liked feeling, for once, that he could provide her with something, anything. She provided him with so much: inspiration, amusement, astonishment. She was truly extraordinary, and yet she never seemed to realise it. He was sure she'd never understood that he'd meant, to the bottom of his heart and soul, the dedication. His extraordinary KB.

He decided that he didn't need to have any heavy conversations tonight, or at any stage before he could safely snuggle her in. He – they – would just be together, and enjoy affection. They couldn't screw it up by falling into bed, because Beckett would be completely incapable of anything sexual beyond kissing for some weeks.

They might even manage to talk properly, snuggled up comfortably with only each other. Castle's optimistic, free-ranging imagination promptly imagined being snuggled up to Beckett in a comfortable bed – and then remembered that Beckett was only able to sleep in the recliner for now. His optimism levelled off, and re-asserted itself as he stroked gently over her hand.

At which peaceful point – her phone shrilled through the serene silence. Beckett jumped, and swore horribly with the pain lancing through her shoulder.

Castle jumped up and found the phone. "It's Montgomery," he said, placing the phone in Beckett's hand.

She swiped on, and then put it on speaker and on her lap. "Sir," she said.

"How are you doing, Beckett?"

"Fine, sir."

"Castle, how's she doing?"

Beckett squawked.

"Fine, Roy," Castle said. Beckett began to relax, "for someone with a ripped rotator cuff."

"Ah," Montgomery said. "Well, keep her in order."

Castle's face collapsed.

"I don't need kept in order, sir," Beckett said. "I can't do anything anyway." Bitterness slid through her voice.

"Keep it that way," Montgomery commanded. "You've done quite enough, and I don't need to be down a detective at all, let alone for as long as you're going to be off. You've made my life unnecessarily difficult." He harrumphed. "Your commendation doesn't help my management."

"LT could handle more responsibility," Beckett said thoughtfully, "even though he isn't a detective."

Castle thought that there was a very odd quality to Montgomery's silence in response. Almost…expectant.

"He can work with Ryan and Espo, too," she added, paused, and carried on, "Uh…has he thought about the detective's exams? Or the sergeant's ones," she followed up, with a slight accent of disapproval. Presumably the detective felt that all good officers should want to be detectives rather than sergeants, lieutenants, or even captains.

"Would you encourage him to either?" Montgomery asked.

"If he wants to. He's smart enough," Beckett assessed.

Castle suddenly cottoned on to the quality of Montgomery's tone and silences. He was eliciting Beckett's opinion – but Beckett hadn't realised. In a sudden leap of intuition, he could see where the captain might go with this. He'd call Roy later, because if Roy hadn't had this idea, he, Castle, had.

After a few more barbed exchanges indicating Montgomery's general disapproval of Beckett injuring herself, the call finished and Beckett lay back.

"Tired?" Castle asked.

"Yeah. Could you get another ice pack, please?"

"Sure. Painkillers, or a glass of wine to go with the ice?"

Beckett considered, but not for more than half a second. "Wine, please – do we have any?"

"Yes," Castle said smugly. "I knew you didn't have any, so I bought some. White."

"Yes, please."

Castle swiftly produced two glasses of an excellent white wine, putting the bottle on the table where the glasses could readily be replenished. "There," he said. "That should cheer you up a little."

"Dull the pain," Beckett countered, and sipped. "At least it tastes better and goes down easier than the painkillers."

"It still hurts?"

"Yeah." She clipped the word off, from which Castle inferred that her shoulder was still exceedingly painful and that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Let me know if you want the pillows shifted to prop it differently," he offered, but left it at that.

Beckett sipped her wine and wished that she could find a comfortable position for her arm anywhere at all. Tiring as the day had been, having her arm in the sling and not having it propped had been more comfortable.

"We don't have to go anywhere tomorrow," Castle said, "or Monday."

Beckett produced a glare, though it wasn't up to her usual standard. "I notice you're not mentioning Tuesday. Why you had to drag me into your library club…"

"They love you," Castle said. "You're the biggest thing – apart from me, of course" – Beckett made a very rude noise – "for years. They wanna be nice to you."

"Give me coffee and leave me alone," Beckett grumped. "That's being nice to me."

"You don't mean that," Castle oozed. "Well," he added at her incredulous expression, "you mean the 'give me coffee' bit, but not the 'leave me alone' bit, because you'd miss me if I wasn't there."

Beckett made indeterminately grumpy noises but didn't actually disagree in words. That was probably because, she thought unhappily, Castle's presence was not just helpful with the practical problems of being single-armed for some time, but because he was comforting.

"Anyway, you've finished your wine. Shall I run you another bath? I could put your hair up out of the way – it doesn't need washed, does it? I could wash it again if it does – and you could just soak."

Her hair didn't need washed until tomorrow. "A bath would be lovely," she decided. Another hot bath with soothing bubbles, and then she'd likely be able to sleep, at least until she tried to move and found that either it hurt or she couldn't. She didn't say that. "If you would put my hair up, please?"

"Sure," Castle said. He liked the idea of playing with Beckett's hair. Even wet, it had been beautifully strokable. "I'll go start the bath."

"Help me up first?"

"Okay."

Beckett watched him approach and wondered vaguely why she'd never really noticed how tall and broad Castle really was. When she barely had to make an effort to stand, as he'd taken her full weight without so much as a deep breath, she blinked. Castle, it seemed, hid some serious muscle under the frivolous exterior.

Castle, it also seemed, didn't much want to let go of her. Because he really hadn't. She was, very carefully, all wrapped in; her nose in his shoulder, his arms around her, leaning on his wide chest.

It felt amazing.

Thank you to all readers and reviewers. You are all very much appreciated.