She had actually thought they were going to make it.

She had actually believed that she would be able to step away from her mother's murder and have a life, a life with Castle that could be easy and untroubled, but it was a foolish fantasy. Her mother's case would follow her until she was in the ground herself.

Castle was never supposed to be so deeply involved and a part of her would always resent her captain for calling him that night, for putting Rick in a position that he had never deserved to be in. Carrying her out of the hangar kicking and screaming, knowing her mentor was about to sacrifice himself. But she had still allowed him to hold her against her cruiser in the parking lot, had allowed him to brush back her hair and whisper apologies and understandings into the breath of space between them, to quiet her with the hard but welcome press of his lips when she just couldn't stop crying.

"Just stay with me," he had breathed into her mouth through the symphony of gunfire that had filled the air. And she had gripped his jacket in her fists, held onto him like she was drowning until the final shot was fired and he allowed her to finally return to the scene of sacrificial suicide, to touch her trembling hands to Montgomery's lifeless body and mourn the loss of her captain, her friend.

He had whispered the same to her that night in her bed, when she tried to lock herself away in the bathroom, and he whispered the same to her now as he hovered above her, supporting her neck in the cradle of his palm while the other fumbled over her ribs, looking for the entry wound, trying to stop all the blood from seeping out of her body.

"Stay with me, Kate. I love you. You know how much I love you. Don't leave me, please."

She didn't want to. She wanted to reach for him, but attempting to lift her arm ended in the limb barely making it off the carpet of brilliant green grass before it helplessly tumbled back to her side. She caught a glimpse of the crimson stains on her white gloves through the corner of her vision and realized it may be even worse than it felt.

And it felt excruciating.

Her chest was caving in – her lungs deflating, her ribs curling inwards like spider legs, her heart shriveling into nothing. Her heart was giving up and the darkness at the edges of her vision was moving in at a dizzying speed.

"Kate," he called her back to him when she hadn't even realized she'd been drifting away.

He looked kind of beautiful, angelic even, with the canvas of magnificent blue sky behind him and the sun winking at her from over his shoulder, outlining him and making it appear as though he was glowing.

She barely felt his tears stain her cheek, barely felt her own leaking into her hair and how he wiped them away with the so soft sweep of his bloodstained thumb.

"Stay with me, okay?"

She wanted to nod, wanted to stay with him in the sun. But the darkness was already seeping into her limbs, stealing feeling from her fingers and her legs, taking everything until he was the center of her tunneling vision.

She wanted to stay.

The pain began to recede into nothing, the sounds of chaos around them growing muffled, and he was disappearing from her sight before she could stop the slow closing of her eyelids.

She couldn't.

She could not recall with much clarity the first few times she awoke, not really. All she could remember was the savage clutch of panic because there was a strange tube down her throat and she couldn't breathe because she was choking on whatever they had shoved down her esophagus. But Castle was there, letting her pierce his forearm with her nails as a doctor guided the tube from her throat. She had vomited into a bucket with tears streaming down her cheeks, the fierce fist of pain consuming her chest in blazing agony, and Castle had delicately wiped the moisture from her neck when she was finally allowed to lie back down.

"You're okay, Kate," she remembered him saying to her as her eyelids began to droop. She had wanted to talk to him, if only for just a moment, but her vocal cords were shredded and everything ached so sharply, she could only smooth her fingertips over the crescent marks she had left in his arm.

Castle kissed her fingers, her wrist, and kept their hands intertwined when he lowered himself back down to the plastic chair beside her bed.

"Just keep breathing and you won't have to go back on the vent," he'd instructed her gently. She'd taken a short breath through her parted lips at that, felt the fire rain down on her lungs like glass shards. But like hell she was going back on a ventilator.

"You're going to be okay," was the last thing he had said, and she had mentally winced at how rough his voice had sounded, scraped raw like hers probably was. He likely hadn't slept since… however long she had been here. Hours, days, she hadn't been sure, but she wished she could have scooted over in the bed, made room for him to curl up next to her. Maybe he could have eased some of the pain, the burning.

Instead, she tilted her head towards him on the overly starched pillow, wanting to keep her eyes on him as she fell back into the soothing arms of sleep.

The second time she woke to the too bright room with the overwhelming scent of bleach and sanitizer, he wasn't there and for a moment, she panicked, because she had just seen him die in her dreams. The images too vivid to be faked, but the pulverizing throb in her chest quickly jerked her back into reality, reminded her she was the one shot in the real world. And she was so grateful.

"The nightmares are probably the worst part of the morphine," the nurse at her bedside informed her sympathetically and Kate tried not to startle at the unknown presence. "But hopefully we won't have to keep you on it too long."

The nurse checking her IV offered her tiny sips of water that felt glorious trickling down her throat, and then she asked her a question Kate failed to register, something about 'her boyfriend' and 'camped outside'. They must have her on some heavy medication. She was hardly feeling anything, unless she breathed.

When she breathed, the crack in her chest widened and the pain washed over her in waves of stinging agony that never seemed to end.

"Rick, right? You were crying his name," she mentioned, but Beckett only blinked at the young woman in confusion. Oh, she meant in the dream. She quickly glanced down at her hands, turned them over in her lap, searching for traces of his blood, just in case. The visions flashing behind her eyelids were hazy, but still felt so real. He had bled out in her arms.

The nurse smiled at her, soft and pitiful, and stepped outside of the room for a moment, returning with Castle at her side. He looked ragged; his hair greasy, his skin pale, his entire body slumped even as he stood.

She wanted to reach for him, allow him to cradle her in his arms and mold his body around hers like he always did after facing a near death situation. She wanted him reassured that she was alive and still here, but she could hardly take a breath without feeling the razor's edge of pain slice through her chest.

Kate settled for tilting her head just slightly in indication and he was quickly stumbling to make it to her side.

"Kate," he breathed, broken and raspy, and she shakily lifted her hand to his cheek when he leaned over her, delicately pressing his forehead to hers. "Kate."

"I must look really bad," she rasped, swallowing hard because it burned to speak. Her palm slipped down his cheek after only a handful of seconds, but he caught her fingers and held onto them even as he lowered their tangled hands to her side.

"No, no, you're beautiful," he whispered and the tears clogging his throat made her broken chest ache.

"Don't you ever jump in front of a bullet for me again," she slurred, the medication already dragging her back down, but she still remembered how he had dived for her, attempted to shield her with his own body, how he had barreled into her and the defeat in his eyes when he stared down at the blood staining her uniform. She still remembered the nightmare that crept at the edges of her mind, waiting to pounce on her again as she slept.

It would haunt her for a long time, the possibility that it could have been him lying in this hospital bed.

"No promises, Beckett," he replied and she attempted a growl, but whimpered when it made her sternum soar with pain.

"Go back to sleep," he said gently, cautiously stroking back the errant strands of hair from her face. "I'll be here when you wake up."

She made a breathless noise of agreement. "Better be."

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she woke again, she was losing too much time in this damn hospital bed, but she found him at her side, just like he said he would be.

"Castle," she mumbled and he glanced up from the phone in his hand, brushed his thumb over her knuckles with the other. Her eyes darted to the water on the bedside table and he hustled to lift the cup and guide the straw to her lips.

Once she had managed a few sips and her throat was slick with the cool liquid, she asked, "Do we have any leads?"

Castle hesitated, taking his time in returning the cup to the bedside table. "Ryan and Espo are doing what they can," he hedged.

"So none then," she surmised quietly, swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat. It was hard, so hard, to entrust the life consuming investigation in someone else's hands, especially now. But she had promised him, promised herself.

"Beckett, I know how important this is," Rick began, nervously clasping his hands together on the edge of her hospital bed and she blinked to keep herself focused. "I know you need… But I can't let you throw yourself back into it. I can't-"

"Will you ask me again now?" she murmured the interruption, but it worked, stopped him midsentence.

Confusion held his eyes for only a moment before understanding broke free and he was smiling at her, a real smile that was unburdened by her injuries.

"When you're not so drugged up, baby," he chuckled and she scowled at him, scored her nails into his knuckles.

"Told you not to call me that," she muttered, feeling the drugs he was talking about tugging her back under, stealing her coherency again all too soon - she hated this, she wanted to be awake for more than five minutes - but she still caught the breath of Castle's laughter.

She clung to his hand tighter, like he could keep her afloat.

"You like it."

"Don't," she argued halfheartedly, because maybe she did. But only sometimes. "You'll ask me later?" she pressed before she could fall into the heavy sleep that would keep her away from him for too long.

"Yes, Kate," he promised, reaching forward to comb her hair back again until her eyes slid closed.

"What're you doing?" she groaned, still not completely awake, but feeling him at her side, his hands in her hair.

"Trying to fix this," he grumbled, concentration overtaking his voice. She was able to stay conscious for full days now, but she still indulged in a nap every now and then to escape the molten ache in her chest for a couple of hours. "There. Perfect French braid."

It had only been six days, but she still felt completely decimated. Her entire body in a constant state of agonizing rebellion, but Castle made for a pleasant distraction. He drove her crazy at times, with the hovering and the worrying, but she was selfishly glad he had remained in the hospital with her for the majority of the near week.

"Where would I be without you, Castle?" she teased, but her teeth grinded seconds later, the pain ricocheting around inside the cavity of her chest, and Castle eased away from her, murmuring about finding a nurse.

"No," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. It would pass, the intensity of the pain would pass. She just needed a second. "They'll up the dosage and then – won't let me free."

Beckett had managed to coax her doctor into feeding her body as little medication as possible, much to Castle's chagrin. She wasn't her dad, but she won't deny the existence of her addictive personality and she refused to take the risk, not without controlling it. She lied about her level of pain every day, even if the nurses saw through it, and she succeeded in receiving the minimal amount of drugs to tame the agony in her chest. And she paid for it daily.

"Kate-"

"Just..." She flattened her palm on the crisp sheets of the bed, curled her fingers into his when he covered her hand with his own. "Stay."

"Not going anywhere," he promised her, the same promise he made every day, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of her hospital cot.

The pain shot through her system like knives, touching every part of her - slicing open each section of her heart, puncturing her lungs, defiling her ribs. But when the worst of it had coursed through her system and resided into a dull roar between her bones, she was able to take a shaky breath and loosen her rigid posture, rest back against the bed.

Castle looked absolutely distraught every time she opened her eyes to him.

"Rick."

"Yes? What do you need?" he answered immediately, prepared to go to the ends of the earth for her if she asked.

"Kiss me," she murmured, watching his eyebrows inch upwards just slightly.

"What-"

"You haven't since I was shot and I want - just kiss me, Castle," she breathed, smiling and touching her fingers to the stubble on his chin when he hovered over her and brushed his warm lips against her brittle, chapped mouth.

She hummed when he drew her lower lip into his mouth, slowly laved his tongue across the dried flesh.

"Ahem."

Castle was startled by the cleared throat in the room's entryway, but didn't show it, very carefully withdrawing from her with one last chaste kiss that made her grin.

"Nice to see you both," Jim Beckett greeted with a smirk and Kate smiled warmly at her father coming through the door.

"Hey Dad."

Her father had been just as bad as Castle when it came to coddling her - or trying to - but she still felt her face light up every time he returned to her room.

"I just got back from the cabin, got it all patient proofed for you," he said, pride flickering in his eyes, and oh… she had yet to mention that to Castle. And by the way he looked to her in confusion with a hint of betrayal, she knew it was a mistake holding back the planned stay at her father's cabin from him.

"Dad, could you give us just a second?" she asked quietly, glancing to her father, who was already giving her that admonishing look she would receive as a child, but he exited the room as if he didn't know exactly what was going on.

"Castle-"

"You're going to stay at your father's cabin? And you didn't think to maybe mention it to me? Give me a heads up so I can pack?" he questioned, trying to sound casual about it, but she could hear the frustration bubbling under the surface.

"I was hesitant to tell you because I intend to go alone," she murmured, shifting her eyes to her hands before forcing them to return to his in apology.

His face twisted with hurt and then refusal.

"No."

"Castle, I need time to heal. I need-"

"No," he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest like a child. "I'm not letting you go alone."

"Castle, my dad will be there. It would just be for-"

"No," he protested again, stubbornly. "I am not spending another summer away from you, especially not like this."

She sighed, turning the hand on her knee palm up and lacing their fingers when he reluctantly settled his palm in hers. "I won't be easy to live with, Castle. I'll be difficult and a wreck and-"

"Kate."

She lifted her eyes and Castle smoothed his hand along her jaw, his warm palm soothing to her frigid skin.

"I don't expect it to be easy. We'll probably have some pretty spectacular fights, I'll hover too much, drive you crazy, but we'll move past all of that and it'll be okay," he assured her, placating her doubts and coaxing her into believing him all too easily. "We always are."

She bit her lip. She had made the decision to endure her recovery without him because she had feared attempting to handle it with him around would break them. She just knew she would say something wrong, something hurtful, not intentionally, but out of pain or frustration. She would push him away and evoke that wounded little boy look in his eyes that made her heart clench. And she didn't want to do that to him.

"Just let me be there."

She would have huffed a long sigh of defeat if her body could handle the repercussions.

"Okay," she mumbled and Castle brushed his lips across her temple in gratitude. And deep down, she realized she had already known she never would have done this alone. Even if she would have escaped to the cabin without Castle following her, she had little doubt that he would have shown up on her doorstep within the first 24 hours.

"We'll be okay, Kate," he swore to her softly, tracing the cool shell of her ear with his thumb. "You're going to be okay."

She exhaled slowly and knocked her forehead into his chin, rested there for a moment. It would be okay.