Go Out Fighting 3: Never
"Kate."
"Yeah, yeah." She groaned and stiffened as the physical therapist slowly let go of her.
"No, no. Ease into it. You know the drill."
She hated him. Hated him. Hated her rebellious and broken body. Hated-
"Use that anger. Do the arm presses."
She was sitting on the gym mat, legs sprawled in front of her, arms behind her as she leaned back on her palms. She slowly let her elbows bend with her weight and closed her eyes.
"Last set, Kate. You can do it."
If he made her cry again, she was gonna lose it. Crying was losing it, technically, but she was going to have to kick some ass-
As soon as she could, in fact, kick ass.
Right now, her core muscles spasmed and shook so badly that she was practically bouncing. Her elbows bent, her torso lowered, and the agony traveled into her shoulder joints.
"Rate the pain for me."
She wanted to say ten. Saying ten meant they'd stop. But if she was honest - and she should be honest because only by being honest about this would she ever get better-
"Seven," she gasped.
"Okay, let's do four more."
Less than the ten he'd told her to do. So seven on the pain scale got her number of reps halved. Good to know. Not that she would ever cheat, but yes, she was beginning to understand her body, hear it, listen to it, and he was right. Four. She'd be sweating and moaning at four, but she could still do it.
And she was. Sweating and moaning at four. Her PT caught her by the shoulders and eased her to lie flat. She fumbled for the towel and dropped it over her face, breathing hard.
"Someone's here to see you."
"Shit."
"Nice, Beckett. Real classy." Castle's voice cut through the empty workout room. She didn't bother to take the towel off her face.
"Why are you here?"
"Ultrasound, remember? Gotta help get you onto the table."
Oh, right. To make matters infinitely worse, Castle got roped into hauling her sweaty, grimy, shaky ass off the floor and up onto the table for the ultrasound therapy.
But it was worth it. Not just because the ultrasound seemed to give her back a range of movement that seemed wholly impossible at this moment, but also because it forced Castle to push his own body. The first two times he helped, he'd been as shaky as she was. And she'd seen him force feed himself after that. So it worked-
"Wait." She snatched the towel off her face and peered up at him. He was grinning. "Your jaw?"
He grinned wider - and he could. He could.
"What? How-?"
"I think something . . . snapped last night?"
When she'd mauled him like a dog in heat. Right. She blushed and dropped the towel back over her face. She could hear the PT laughing, but surely he had no idea. Castle hadn't been talking, had he?
"Anyway. It still aches like nobody's business. But I can move it."
"Don't overdo it," the PT said. "Take a rest with the jaw while Kate gets ultrasound. Then see if it stiffens up on you. If it does, do the exercises your guy gave you."
"I did them already."
"If it stiffens up during the break, that's all. That way when you get to lunch - late lunch, sorry Kate - then you'll actually be able to eat something."
Kate wiped the towel down her face and looked up at the two men standing over her. "Let's go. I'm already starving."
Her PT grinned down at her. "That's good. Rebuild those muscles. Remember to get beans, peanut butter, chicken - anything with protein."
"Mm, peanut butter beans. I know that's exactly what you want, Kate." Castle smirked at her as he leaned down, got into the right stance, his large palm cradling the back of her thigh.
The physical therapist eased her to a sitting position, put his had under her other leg, and then Castle tucked his shoulder into her armpit. Together they lifted her, still seated, and carried her to the private room where all the equipment was set up.
Castle's doing - the ultrasound machine, the physical therapy sessions, everything. He was paying for it, wouldn't even give her an idea, a hint, of what it was costing. He'd cryptically said Nikki Heat was paying for it anyway.
They deposited her on the table; Castle brushed his hand down her back and stepped away. She watched him find his seat in the corner, pull his laptop from under the chair. He must've stowed it away here-?
No. That wasn't his laptop. A new one then. A clean laptop. Oh shit. She hadn't even thought of that-
The PT gently eased her down to the padded table, lifted her shirt. The gel was pleasant, straight from the warmer, so she never had that stinging recoil from the cold. Not like the first time. Castle again - who even knew that warmers existed for the ultrasound gel?
She turned her head and watched him on the laptop as her physical therapist applied the first round of sound waves into her tightly clenched, still spasming abdominal muscles. She breathed out with it, felt him move the sound head in circular patterns, felt the slow build of heat.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
At the beginning, he'd used the ultrasound before her exercises. And then a few weeks ago, he'd switched it up and started giving her the ultrasound treatment at the end. It made a huge, marked different. Her pain management was easier, her muscles eased, her recovery from therapy sessions was infinitely shorter.
He said that was his normal way of dealing with gunshot wounds that had damaged a lot of muscle. She wanted to ask Castle how in the world he'd found this guy, a physical therapist who'd dealt with a lot of gunshot wounds, but she already knew the answer.
He knew a guy.
She grinned to herself, felt the pleasure of simple relaxation easing down her body, and opened her eyes.
Castle was watching her. His hands hovered over the keyboard, his eyes wide and intense and so very blue, and her smile only widened under the strength, the adoration of his gaze.
And then she realized the picture she made, the technician, the ultrasound, the head of the wand pressing into her belly.
Oh God.
It had never hit him like that before. It'd been his first snarky question, yes, when he learned from the physical therapist that she'd be doing ultrasound sessions. Like for pregnant women?
Even then, it hadn't hit him. Because in the beginning, he was so distraught over Kate's inability to even get up on a table without serious help that he didn't see it. And then when she'd progressed enough to start receiving treatments after her workouts, half the time she was crying, not even able to raise her arm up to her face to hide her tears of frustration and exhaustion.
This was the first time he'd seen her smile, seen her look over at him with joy.
And it just.
It hit him.
He couldn't think about it. This had to happen first - this whole conspiracy had to be brought down, justice for her mother, before anything else.
But he kept his hand at her elbow as they walked to the cafeteria for lunch, the image crowding his head. The look on her face, her smile at him-
"Ryan!" Kate called.
Castle looked up. The detective turned and gave a short wave, jogging back towards them. "Just coming to look for you."
"But Esposito was here just yesterday," Kate said, tugging her elbow out of his grasp.
He dropped his hand and was impressed at how she kept it together. She'd let herself struggle in front of Javier, but not Ryan?
She led the way down the path towards the cafeteria, even as Ryan glanced nervously to Castle. Rick just shook his head and gestured for him to go with her.
The three took their time, slower than they'd have done if Kate let him just help, and then Castle at least got to open the door for them.
"Tell us," Kate said. "Why are you here so soon?"
"Something must've happened in the case," Castle put forward, grabbing a tray for Kate and one for himself. He ignored her open palm and headed for the stir fry. He could do this at least. There was no way she could balance a tray right after a therapy session.
"Something happened in the case," Ryan said quietly. "I'll wait to fill you in until we get seated. Somewhere secluded?"
Castle nodded and thrust a tray in Ryan's hands instead. "Go get us all some milkshakes."
Ryan nodded, swiveled his head around to look for the appropriate line, then took off.
Kate was glaring at him, but he didn't care.
Ryan ate french fries slathered in ketchup as he talked. Castle had upgraded to mashed potatoes in which he mixed in some peas and mushy carrots. And honey. Yes.
Kate was giving him these pleased, happy little looks, despite her distraction. And all it took was honey.
Ryan swallowed. "Okay, so. Don't know how, but Montgomery's documents have leaked to the press."
Castle paused, fork halfway to his open mouth. "What?"
"We're looking for the source, but the new Captain thinks it was probably someone on the grand jury."
"A judge. Too big a news story," Kate muttered, stabbing at her stir fry.
"Yeah, thing is. Someone - either the source or the journalist - has connected it back to your mom's case."
Castle's eyes cut to hers, watched the grief pour down her face.
"What?" She fisted her hand around her fork, blinking at Ryan.
"How?" Castle asked.
"Weirdly enough, real estate records and Dick Coonan's brother."
"What?" Kate repeated. Her lips were bloodless.
Jack Coonan, older brother to Dick Coonan the hired hitman. The guy Kate had shot in the precinct to save Castle's life.
"You're telling me that we overlooked something about Jack Coonan that leads directly to Judge Markway?" Castle leaned forward, dropping his fork back to his plate.
"No. I'm telling you that Johnny Vong-"
Here Ryan paused and met Castle's eyes. I own a boat.
"Johnny Vong," Kate said testily.
Okay, definitely not the time to parrot the whole real-estate broker's DVD shtick.
"Johnny Vong bought real estate from Judge Markway and sold it to Dick Coonan."
"Real estate," Kate echoed.
Castle glanced at her again, saw the pinched edge to her face that meant her bullet wound was tightening, her muscles squeezing. They shouldn't be though. She'd just had her ultrasound therapy and she should be okay for another couple hours.
Meant the shock of Ryan's information was seriously stressing her out. He rubbed at his eyes and looked back to Ryan. "You said real estate and Jack Coonan."
"Jack Coonan bought his brother the knife."
"The knife?" Castle hissed. "I thought it was his Special Forces knife. I thought-"
"We assumed it was because the wound patterns were the same. Turns out Dick Coonan lost his Special Forces knife in a hand-to-hand combat situation in Iraq, first Gulf War."
"How'd we not know that? How did that not come up?"
"A lot of his records were sealed, Beckett. We used what we had, and then he was going on about Rathborne and our focus went there. Then he died. He just-"
"But I-" Kate shook her head. "I poured over every inch of Coonan's life after that. After I killed him."
Castle stared at her. "You did what?"
Her head jerked up to meet his eyes, her mouth opening but not say anything.
She'd gone down that rabbit hole and she hadn't told him. She hadn't breathed a word of it to him.
Oh. That look. Because she hadn't wanted to put the burden of guilt on him, for being the reason she'd had to kill Coonan. To save his life, and end her last, best chance at answers.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she shook her head and held up her hand. "Tell me how Jack Coonan's knife has anything-"
"During the first Gulf War, the Judge was in Iraq as an aide to a Congressman - raise troop moral, some kind of visit. As part of the official welcoming ceremonies, the entourage was given a variety of take-home gifts. One of those gifts was a particular brand of knife, a Special Forces blade."
Ryan was getting a lot better at the story-telling, Castle noted, but he seriously had to pick up the pace.
"There's video of Markway accepting the knife in the Congressman's name during the ceremony. And Jack Coonan? He bought that same blade from Markway, gave it to his brother as a Christmas present. A Westie went on record saying how much Jack bragged about it. The Westie said the reason he remembers this at all is because Jack was approached by Markway himself. Markway set up the buy."
Something cold and final and delicious slithered down into Castle's guts.
Kate was as cold and silent as stone.
Castle cleared his throat, felt his jaw loosen. "Markway put the killing weapon in Coonan's hands."
Evidence.
Markway was nailed.