Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Castle.

A/N: The crack about the readers was a joke :) Fairly obviously one that fell pretty flat. Splat. Sorry. The story has 100+ followers (way more the I ever thought possible) so if I ever make 'jokes' about readers again, well, Umm, sorry? I've shown poor judgement in that regard in the past, apologies. The crack about the show itself and motivation? Not so much.

Beta Note: Thank you elizabeth . bynog for all the help.

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"I don't like those options."

"No I don't suppose you do. I could pop you in the head here and walk out, you die but your Detective lives; or I could walk out and let you both live for now, we could visit again later; or my favorite, you get all self-sacrificial, scream like a girl, I kill you and your Detective and still walk away. Anyway it happens Castle, I'm walking away from this; the only question is whether you are. Not walking obviously, but living at all after tonight."

Rick didn't see the options quite the same way, he'd seen how carefully Kate had descended the stairs after the broken lamp with Judy, she wasn't the type to rush in unaware even when she suspected Tyson. If he called out, screamed, like a girl or not, he thought the chances were good that Kate would end Tyson, that Jerry wouldn't get to walk away. Neither would Rick, there'd be no escape if he called out; just a bullet to the head. It was a strange reversal from his guilt the prior morning, his actions years ago had started the ball rolling to death and near death; now his actions could stop a killer.

Tyson gave a push with the gun, trying to jog Rick into action, and hissed, "Pick!"

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Rick was done playing by Tyson's rules. He'd read how that has gotten him and Detective Ryan into trouble in a motel room, playing roles as bit players in a dramatic rebirth plan for a psychopath. Then apparently Rick's star had risen, he'd become the focus of the latest drama for Jerry's ego stroking pleasure, or maybe Id, or super-ego; whatever psychotic basis the crazy man had. Whatever, Rick was done; play along and he or people close to him got hurt and Tyson trotted off to play another day.

Not anymore. It was time to grab him by the nose and twist until it hurt.

Rick almost couldn't help the small smirk on his face as he responded, "No."

He could see Tyson's hand momentarily squeeze the grip of the pistol and had a moment of doubt, maybe Tyson didn't have a desperate need for his games to play out to his script. If not, then things could...The gun was gone.

Tyson had lifted the gun away from his forehead, and taken a very modest step back, the expression in his face looked displeased. "Castle, Castle, you always have to complicate things don't you. Ok, I'm going to go over the rules with you one more time."

One thing Rick absolutely knew he was going to hate when it came to rehabilitating his injuries would be the wobble board; stand upright, stay still, that's what they'd say. How could he though when the very ground he would be standing on was unstable, shifting; he hated it, and he knew that he was the kind of guy to go with the flow. Tyson did not flow. He plotted, planned, and was unhappy when his plans didn't go as drawn up.

"I'm not playing your game Jerry. Tell you what, we can play one of mine. Pop out the LaserTag gear and have at it. I'm in a chair, odds are definitely in your favor. You win, you walk away, I win.."

Tyson at this point was glaring at him with the most frustrated expression, and barked at him, "Castle, will you just shut up? I've got a real gun here man, not a toy! You are so annoying, I think I'm just going to shoot you. Deal's off."

The tiny little shift in light was all he saw, just where the knob on the bedroom door started to turn, such a subtle little thing really, but his eyes were drawn to it anyway. And just as his were drawn to it, Tyson's were drawn to his as they flicker away from watching the gun.

So it was back, pistol pressed against his forehead and Tyson spoke out loud. "I know you're there Detective. Why don't you come in nice and slowly, we can have a family reunion."

As the door swung open the first thing that stood out was the gun, not surprisingly, it entered pointing straight at Tyson, followed by a sleep clothed Kate. "You ok Rick?"

He began to respond, but was cut off immediately by a jab into his forehead by the gun.

"He's fine Detective. For now. Put you gun down and kick it over here."

"No. I'm not playing your game here Tyson. You put yours down, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head."

Tyson laughed, "You seem at little under equipped for this, what you gonna cuff me with? A scrunchie?"

It was Kate's turn to smirk, clearly amused by something, then Rick got an earful of what, "Two pair of cuffs in the bedside table Tyson. I'm always prepared. Now shut up and drop the gun."

Tyson gestured with his fee hand to where his pistol was butting into Castle's head. "I don't think so, I think we have a Mexican standoff here."

Since they were both so distracted, Rick decided to fill them in on the details they were missing. "Well, not really. I'd have be pointing a gun at Kate for that to be true."

Kate's eyes slightly bugged out as she shushed him, "You aren't walking away here Tyson, neither of us are going to let that happen again."

"My dear Detective, you've never let me walk away, you've just never been able to stop me. How long until backup arrives?"

"I didn't call. No backup Tyson. Just us, we're going to finish this right here."

"That seems a little foolhardy Detective. Really? Not that they'd get here in time anyway."

"As an act of good faith Tyson, take the gun off Rick's head."

"I do find this "Rick" thing fascinating. How about quid pro quo Detective. You tell me how you knew I was here."

"The room is bugged."

Tyson did ease the gun away a little, which freed Rick to express some ire, though he realized it probably wasn't the time or place; it was a distraction and that felt just fine, "You told me it wasn't bugged!"

"It wasn't bugged when I swept it Rick. This isn't the..."

"Au contraire, this is most fascinating, do tell us, please, a trade."

"I bugged it. After the get well card arrived."

"You got your Captain's approval to..."

"It's a fifty dollar baby monitor from Duane Reade. I got it on the way home from work that day, it's on your dresser. It's not a real bug Rick, but it worked. Can we focus here? The psychotic in the corner?"

Rick would swear if you'd asked him that Kate appeared nervous, shifting her feet and generally looking fairly uncomfortable; very atypical behavior from what he'd seen of her. It wasn't until she'd shifted almost halfway across the room that he really understood, she wasn't uncomfortable, she was moving, turning Tyson's orientation so that he was increasingly standing with his back to the door.

Unfortunately Tyson noticed too. "Detective, really? You expect me to let you backup sneak up behind me?"

Kate shrugged, "Told you, no backup. I just want to leave you an exit, never corner a rat. You are vicious enough without thinking you've got no way out."

"You know, I really should be offended. Psychotic. Rat. Vicious. You make me think you don't enjoy our time together."

"Go Tyson. Get out before I change my mind."

Rick couldn't remain silent, they couldn't let him leave, he didn't think he could handle another death on his conscience. "Kate, you can't..."

She never took her eyes of Tyson, but her tone was not the one she'd been addressing him with, "Hush Rick."

"Seems to me Castle, the first time we met I left you there wanting to stop me leaving and there was nothing you could do about it then either. It was that other cop with you then though."

"The last time I shot you." Castle replied.

Tyson was backing towards the door, clearly intent on an exit strategy, but couldn't help but have the last word, "Yes, you did. Right in the vest. I'm so glad you're a good shot. Goodbye. For now. See you soon."

Rick watched, frustrated, as Tyson slipped out of the room and Kate made no move to follow him. She waited a few seconds, as they both listened to receding footsteps before slumping down to sit on the edge of the bed.

Before Rick could say a word, she reached behind her and he saw it, a bump tucked into the back of her sleep shorts. She pulled out her phone speaking into it without dialing a number.

"You get that? He's in the building. Are units here?"

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"There's no sign of him Beckett."

Kate's attention was caught by Espo as she descended the stairs, having decided to put on some sweat pants and a loose t-shirt over her sleep clothes after yet another uniform had entered the loft and spent the first several moments staring at her and not paying attention to the doorway.

It had been almost a half hour since Tyson had made his exit and the hope that she'd had that he be captured trying to exit the building had long since faded. Kate had yet to break the news to Rick, though she had little doubt he'd already concluded what had happened; too much noise in the den and not enough congratulatory celebration for the verdict to be anything else.

Kate reached the bottom of the stairs and approached Esposito, who was standing by Ryan near the couch, in radio contact with various units outside the building. She attempted to keep her voice controlled, but the frustration was clearly showing. "What happened? There were units at the scene when he left the loft. Nobody saw anything?"

Ryan shrugged, not an indifferent one, his expression a massive sense of disappointment, "We don't know. He didn't come out the front or the back. Tactical is in route, we're going to do a full sweep of the building, but I don't think he's still here."

Her time was up, she needed to tell Rick, tell him properly rather than let him fill in the gaps himself again. "I'll be back guys, keep looking ok? He was here and I let him get away."

"Beckett, you can't blame yourself..."

"I can Espo, I do, doesn't mean I regret it for a moment."

Kate walked from the den, though the office; voices fading gradually behind her as she approached the bedroom. The door was still partially open, light coming from inside where she'd left the room lit for Rick, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon.

As soon as she stepped into the room he spoke, voice tense, but not showing the anger she had feared, "He got away didn't he?"

She didn't answer at first, sitting down on the bed instead and taking hold of his hand; his warm living hand. The only response she could offer was going to disappoint even though he already knew, "Yeah, he got away, or he's gotten away so far. He didn't exit the front of the building, or get out through the back; maybe he went over the roof, maybe he's still here. We're still looking Rick, but honestly I think he's probably gone."

Kate could recognize the depressed sound of his voice with no difficulty at all, someone wouldn't even have to know him in order to do so. "Now he'll kill again. To rub my face, our faces, in it. You should have shot him. Damn the consequences."

"Don't think like that, we had him before and he got away, that doesn't make his murders our fault; you can't let guilt get to you like that Rick. We try the best we can to stop the bad guys and to prevent bad things from happening. Even if we know without a doubt Tyson will kill again, even then the consequences aren't out fault. Sometimes I don't know the consequences of what we do, when a case gets away from me."

If anything he seemed to sound more down after that. "Consequences that I underestimated; sometimes I do things and the consequences are just awful."

"When I was on patrol Rick, I lost count of how many domestic violence callouts I went on, dozens easily maybe hundreds; for most of them nothing ever happened, no charges pressed or whatever, in some of them there were consequences later. What was I supposed to do, Rick? What was I supposed to do? Shoot the suspect because of some future consequences I was worried about? In some cases I wish I had, but I'm a cop Rick, so are you for all practical purposes, and we don't stop pursuing a case because of fear of consequences, and we certainly don't execute people to avoid some potential future crime either."

"It's a constant struggle with Tyson though, he keeps getting away, this is the third time right?"

"One thing Captain Montgomery told me Rick, was that there are no victories, only the battle. That's what we face with Tyson, for now, he's our battle. I need someone to stand with me while I fight that battle Rick, or the battle alone will consume me. We will get him but that won't end the darkness, there'll always be another battle to fight. We can't win the war, but we can and will win the battle against Tyson, just not tonight."

"What's about your mother's case? I started that ball rolling, it had consequences, people died. I loaded the gun Kate and intent followed the bullet."

Kate squeezed his hand, then lay down on the bed beside him very carefully, not jostling him at all. Sometimes she was glad of the little law training she'd had and interested herself in over the years, "Intent follows the bullet is just a legal convention Rick, not necessarily reality. I'm not a DA, certainly I'm not going to hold you responsible for those actions. Intent follows the bullet is about destruction, striking out against something, using a weapon. How about Informed Consent? That's about healing, which is what you were, in part, trying to help me do. Did you have a full understanding of the implications and probably consequences of poking into that case Rick? I don't think you did back then, you didn't consent to consequences. Yes people had died Rick, but no you aren't responsible and no you shouldn't feel unbearable guilt over it."

He was about to say something else but Kate could see the clock now showing roughly 5AM and he desperately needed rest, so she shushed him with a finger over his lips and rose momentarily from the bed to close the door completely and turnoff the lights before joining him once again, snuggling a little into his side where she could hear and feel his breathing and heartbeat.

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Rick was only moments behind Kate as they exited the bedroom and entered the still somewhat crowded den. Esposito and Ryan were slouched on the couch, very much not their normal Halo-readiness positions. They both looked exhausted. Rick realized how much good the nap had done him, and that the restful sleep had only come because he'd felt safe.

Espo had seen him and momentarily ignored Kate to toss a greeting his way, "Yo Castle, you have nine lives or what?"

Kate's face looked momentarily panicked, but she held up a hand in Rick's direction asking for silence while she questioned Esposito, "The sweep or CSU find anything?"

It was Ryan who answered. "Nothing, not even a sign of him on the lobby security cameras ever entering the building. CSU found signs that the lock had been picked, like the last time he planted stuff here. Other than that, nothing."

Glancing between her two friends and teammates, she twitched her eyes up, hoping they'd take the hint and not make her spell it out. Esposito did, rolling his own eyes in a slight mocking imitation, "And obviously we checked the roof. Nothing out of place, but it's the most probable escape route, easy access to the adjacent building and of course the uniforms first on scene didn't check, just set a perimeter around the building. Sorry Beckett, he's gone."

Castle's voice broke into the detectives' protective envelope, "He got away and now he's going to kill again. I should..."

"You shouldn't have anything Rick. None of this should ever have happened, psychos like Tyson shouldn't exist, they certainly shouldn't be holding guns to people's heads. We are going stop him Rick."

Ryan stood slowly from the sofa, clearly tired, but he had a bone to pick with Tyson too. "Look Castle, he took my gun before and someone died; but he's the one at fault for that. I screwed up, we've all had screwups. Decisions we regret after thinking things though a bit better. We learn from those mistakes, we don't wallow in them; do that and they'll eat you up, dude."

"Bro! Let's get some coffee in you before you depress us any more. Beckett, we're heading back to the precinct, there'll be two uniforms here in the hall and a unit outside the building. Not that I think he's coming back, but it's worth a shot."

Rick started to shift in his chair, clearly uneasy about the thought of protection. "I'm not okay with this, protection..."

Kate turned sharply to him, her face hard, determined. "If last night doesn't prove you need protection then..."

He softened his voice, trying to calm her irritation at what she clearly thought was recklessness. "Not that Kate. If he comes back, uniforms aren't going to stop him, you know that; they'll just be a couple more dead redshirts, no disrespect."

"Any deterrent Rick is better than none. You're the target, everyone will be incredibly careful. He is not getting to you again. End of story."

After their small sidebar conversation ended they realized they were alone, the guys having left them alone for the last part of the conversation.

Kate stepped behind his chair, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Before we try to figure this out, coffee to wake us up?"

Rick tried to twist around to look at her, but she appeared to have deliberately chosen a spot he couldn't twist to reach, "Coffee or green tea?"

"After last night Rick, I think coffee is about right for both of us." Her hand reached into his view, touching the neutral button on his chair, ready to switch it from electronic to manual control. "May I?"

Rick nodded, but didn't say anything as she gradually began to push him towards the kitchen and to make coffee for them both.

He eventually decided to push the issue from earlier a little, something that had worried her. "Kate, what about the nine lives had anything to do with Tyson?"

She was obviously the one in charge of brewing, but didn't let that distract her. "Not nine. He does things in threes Rick, always three victims by pattern. This is the third time he's had a gun on you; maybe this time, this visit,hi scheme, he plans to finish it."

Maybe the third time would be lucky for Tyson, or maybe someone else, a sensitive topic they'd touched on before, one that was close to Kate's heart; one where a little teasing wouldn't go amiss given the room full of tension, "Third and last time?"

She actually laughed at that, amused, and reached out to gently push his shoulder. "Yeah Rick, you do have something in common I guess. I'm going to make sure the third time is the last time for each of you. I always get my man in the end. Just remember that."