FIVE
"Excuse me—are you the family of Richard Castle?"
"My dad!" Alexis exploded from her chair the moment the man in a white lab coat stepped up to them. "How's my dad!?"
Slowly, Kate stood as well, preparing herself for whatever news the doctor gave them. They had been waiting in the hospital hallway for an additional forty minutes since Alexis arrived. After a loop around the block Kate had returned to her post and sent the male detective back to the precinct where he'd be of better use. He had left only after she promised to text him immediately with updates.
The doctor gazed down at his chart and then at the two women. "Sorry, I just need to know who you are."
"I'm his daughter!" Alexis said defiantly as though the doctor should have understood that fact telepathically somehow.
Kate flashed the badge on her hip. "Detective Beckett. Mr. Castle was a civilian investigator on my team. His daughter is a minor. And his only other family was—in the bank with him." Kate stopped herself just short of saying his only remaining family was killed. Alexis was already giving her a side eye, presumably at Kate's comment about her age; she didn't need to upset the girl further.
Evidently satisfied with this answer, the doctor continued. "Mr. Castle is stable, but he's not out of the woods yet. We don't know how long he was deprived of oxygen or what lasting effects that might have. He is breathing on his own and his heart rate and blood pressure seem to have regulated, which are both good signs."
"Can we see him?" Alexis asked.
The doctor nodded, though hesitantly. "You need to understand just because he looks perfectly fine, his brain might not be. We're still running tests."
"He hasn't regained consciousness?" Kate asked.
"No."
"But we can sit with him?"
The doctor offered a pleasant smile. "Of course."
A few moments later a nurse arrived to take them up to the fifth floor, where patients with neurological issues were housed. Midway down a hall smelling strongly of classic hospital antiseptic, the nurse stopped in front of a room and gestured for them to enter. Alexis rushed past Kate, who entered at a more cautious pace. There, in the center of the room, wearing a blue and white polka doted hospital gown, was the writer. Just as the doctor had promised, he looked perfectly fine—there wasn't so much of a scratch on his face. Beneath the surface, however, was a different story.
Alexis went immediately to her father's left side, picked up his hand and pulled it close to her chest. "Dad! Dad, please. You have to wake up. Please wake up. Please!"
Kate walked to his right side and, as his right hand was the one with the IVs, she did not pick it up. Instead, she reached out her right hand and placed it on his upper arm. His eyes fluttered slightly, but he did not stir. "We're both right here, Rick." She told him gently. "We're here waiting for you to wake up."
They stood in silence, both waiting—hoping—that Castle would open his eyes, but he didn't. Kate glanced over at Alexis and the way she cradled his left hand as if it were an object she needed to protect at the cost of her own life, if needed. "Is he squeezing your hand?"
Tearfully, Alexis shook her head. "No. Do you think that's a bad sign?"
Kate shook her head. "No, he's probably just sleeping. You know him—he could sleep through a tornado."
Alexis offered a small smile and nodded. Truthfully, Kate did not know this information first hand as she and Castle had never slept in the same space. The writer had regaled her with many a tale, though. Plus, he'd nodded off more than a few times at her desk during a late-night case, but that was not exactly the same thing.
"You think he can hear us?" Alexis asked.
"Maybe. If he can, he's probably annoyed we're talking around him, not to him."
Alexis agreed and began to tell her father all about what she witnessed of the building explosion and its aftermath. Meanwhile, Kate stood back, hovering by the bed around Castle's knees, her arms folded over her chest as she gazed at the man who appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
The only survivor. Castle was the only survivor. Nineteen hostages had gone into that safety deposit box vault having no idea it would be their final living act. Castle, the twentieth, had been the only to emerge.
Kate was not one to believe in a higher power, but it was beginning to be the only thing that made sense. How had Castle survived when others had not? What had given him the advantage?
She did not really expect answers. In dramatic situations there rarely were any. She needed to be grateful he was alive, grateful he had a chance to recover. Grateful that they had a chance.
Grazing her fingertip over his legs beneath the blanket she smiled gently to herself.
They had a chance.
Returning from the bathroom, Kate slid her hands down into her jean pockets and sighed. They had been in Castle's hospital room for—god—two and a half hours. It felt like longer. It wasn't as though she hated it; considering the prior day and a half, she was all too happy to stare at him endlessly and memorize every inch of his ruggedly handsome face. But the waiting was stressful. Would he wake up then? In an hour? In a day? In a week? These were questions not even the doctors could answer.
A mere twenty minutes after Kate and Alexis entered Castle's room, two nurses came to wheel him away for a CT scan. They were told it would be at least an hour, so they decided to go and find something to eat, but when they got to the cafeteria Alexis said she wasn't hungry, so Kate purchased a candy bar out of a vending machine and they returned to Castle's room to wait.
Alexis had only been sitting down for fifteen minutes before she fell asleep, slumped over against the arm rest. Kate couldn't blame the girl; she was exhausted as well, but far too stressed to sleep. She needed Castle to wake up; she needed him to be all right. Then, she would rest.
A little more than an hour after he'd left, Castle was returned to the hospital room, a process which, somewhat amazingly, did not wake the sleeping red-head. Evidently, she had inherited her father's talent for sleeping deeply—and sleeping anywhere. Not wanting to risk waking her, Kate followed the nurses out into the hall and asked for the results of the CT scan. They did not have the results to give, but did caution her that the doctors were concerned about brain damage as a result of the oxygen deprivation. Upon hearing this, Kate immediately wished she had not asked.
She wandered the halls for the better part of the next hour, trying to get out her nervous energy. She made continuous loops around the fifth floor, checking on Castle each time she passed the room, but he never woke. Briefly, she called Esposito to hear the latest but the only new information he could provide her was that the police commissioner was preparing to make an official statement later that evening. In the meantime, officers were standing guard outside Castle's apartment and the hospital to make sure they were not disturbed by inquisitive reporters.
Back in the hospital room, Kate opted to sit not in the guest chair beside Alexis, but instead on the edge of the bed, just at Castle's waist. From that position, she was just close enough to reach up and brush some of the hair off his forehead. One of the nurses must have wiped it down to rid it of dust and grime, but in doing so had not quite put it back into the properly coiffed Castle positon. Kate remedied this and then combed her fingers back over his temples, all the while wondering what was going on inside the brain matter beneath her touch.
What if he wasn't the same when he woke up? What if he changed?
This was the persistent thought in her mind—the one that made her stomach flip with terror. Brain damage as a result of oxygen deprivation—what did that even mean? She'd heard about instances—read about them. People who had nearly died of hypothermia or drowned in a body of water, occasionally even people with strokes or aneurisms. Their traumatic brain injuries resulted in personality changes or shifts in careers.
What if Castle didn't want to write anymore? What if he couldn't?
Such a fate would be so sad and…strange. Castle was a writer to his very core. If one thing had become evident over their three-and-a-half year partnership it was that. It was in the very fabric of his being, as was his inquisitive mind and sharp observational skills. What if they were gone? Would it change how she felt about him?
She wanted to say no. She wanted to say that she would feel the same for him if he was a writer or an accountant, but that's because his career didn't matter to her; his personality did. What if that changed too? What if the oxygen deprivation made Castle lose his sense of humor? His spark? What if he—
No. She couldn't think about such things. She was imagining how she'd react to a future that wouldn't matter if he did not regain consciousness. Castle need to wake up first; then, they'd face any challenges together; like partners.
Her fingers continuing to brush through his hair, she spoke softly, "You need to wake up, Castle. C'mon, just open your eyes—even just a little bit."
She truly did not expect him to react to her statement so when, a moment later, he made a grunting noise, she gasped and snatched her hand away from his head. "Castle?" she whispered; he grunted again. Her heart rate spiked.
Oh god—was it coincidental or was he answering her?
Kate placed her hands flat against his chest and leaned in, studying his face. "Rick? Can you hear me?" He didn't grunt again so she returned her hand to stroking through his hair, thinking that may have been the trigger, but again there was no response.
Slightly disappointed, Kate grazed her hand down his arm and over his wrist. When she reached his hand, she slid her fingers against his palm, being mindful of the needle hooked up to the back of his hand. When she reached the base of his fingers, they twitched against hers. She ran her index finger in a circular pattern against his palm and his fingers continued to twitch, but he did not close his hand around hers. Giving up, Kat slid her fingers away only to have him trap them with his thumb, but only for a second before the hand went limp again.
Kate pressed her lips together as she gazed down at his hand. Sad as it was that he had not held firmly to her, she was not disappointed. Hopefully this was a sign that he was coming out of his sleepy state; that he would wake, sooner than later.
"C'mon, you can do it. I know you can," she said. His eyelids fluttered as they had been and Kate could feel the raw emotion in her chest; she just couldn't help herself. Bracing her hands against the edge of the bed, she leaned in, arching her body over him, the oxygen tubes and IV lines, and brought her lips to the hollow of his cheek. She stayed there for the span of three seconds before pulling back.
Kate had not been upright more than a few seconds before she heard, "Do you love him?"
Startled, she jumped and whipped her head in the direction of the red-headed girl who was now alert. Immediately, Kate wondered for how long the girl had been awake and how much of Kate's interaction with the sleeping writer she had seen. "Alexis—I. Oh. What?"
"Do you love my dad?" She repeated.
Kate gave her standard answer to any questions on the nature of their relationship. "He's my partner."
Alexis unfolded herself from the chair and stood on the opposite side of the bed as Kate. "That doesn't answer my question. You're here with him—us. You slept in his bed last night. You look like... do you love him?"
Ever her father's daughter, Alexis had Kate pretty much pegged. She had listened and observed, and then questioned where those two fact bases misaligned; Castle would have been so proud. Unable to continue her charade with the girl whose eyes so plainly matched her fathers, Kate merely jerked her head up and down once.
"Then why did you hurt him?" the younger girl asked with a tone filled with wisdom far beyond her years.
Kate assumed Alexis referred to their summer apart during which she had promised to call her partner and failed to do so for nearly four months' time. "I-I didn't mean to."
"But you did." Alexis challenged. "He was upset all summer because you wouldn't call him."
Feeling her bottom lip begin to tremble, Kate shook her head. "I know; I'm sorry. I'm terrible at... these things. Relationships, emotions. I don't know how to say what I feel or even trust it." Her tearful expression turned pleading. "I don't want to hurt him. I promise. I...I won't shut him out again." She wouldn't; she knew she wouldn't. She had almost lost him once and she would not make that mistake again. Castle's return to her life was a gift she would not waste.
Alexis gazed down at her father and then up at Kate. "You should tell him."
Kate blinked. "What?"
"You should tell him how you feel. He loves you so much it might make him wake up." With that, she left the hospital room, presumably to visit the bathroom. With her gone, Kate looked down at the sleeping man.
Alexis's suggestion was borderline comical, almost fairy tale like…and precisely the suggestion Castle would have made if he were in Alexis's shoes. Ever rational, Kate did not believe merely telling an unconscious man how she felt would rouse him from his near comatose state. They had no way of knowing if he was even able to hear them let alone will himself into consciousness at her words. Yet, on the other hand, she was willing to do just about anything to hear his voice once again.
Leaning over him once more, she brushed her hand through his hair and down the crest of his ear. Holding it against his jaw, she grazed he thumb over his chin and said, "Please don't leave us, Rick. Please. I love you. I love you, Rick." A tear dripped off her cheek and fell onto his hospital gown, but she didn't notice. Kate remained with her hand on his face, waiting for the moment when he opened his eyes.