Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

You're right. Drama is drama, no matter how many people are writing it at the same time. Angst and fluff are contagious at the moment.

So I'll finish this one, rather than wait for that to settle a bit.

Enjoy.

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…..

"Who?" Donovan's face was black.

"Kristie O'Sullivan," Castle repeated. "That was who you were talking about back at your bed, wasn't it? Beckett doesn't forget."

The crash that followed that statement was unexpected.

…

10.

"Well, it was a long shot." Ryan resignedly turned off his flashlight and stowed it back in his jacket pocket.

"I hate this case."

"Right there with you on that one. Maybe if we get a warrant we can open it up."

"Get a warrant with what?" Esposito sounded disgusted. "It's a Japanese import?" he leaned his weight back on the trunk and huffed out all his breath.

Ryan moved to his side sympathetically, hands still shoved deep into his pockets, but stopped just as he turned to mirror his partner's position.

"What is that?" he squinted off Esposito's elbow. Esposito pushed himself up and scanned the navy finish.

"Where?" he asked.

"There," Ryan pointed. "It's catching the light differently," he kept staring at the spot, closing in until his finger hovered over it.

Esposito stooped to examine it.

"Blood."

.

Well he wouldn't have to worry about holding the door anymore; Donovan clearly wasn't going anywhere.

Castle's eyes fluttered again as more blood made its way onto his eyelid and teased at his eyelashes. It stung. He wanted to check it out and see how bad it was but the mirror was sagging in odd web-like cracks or in small pieces on the floor, his jacket and his hair.

"You really have to stop throwing things," Castle offered, wincing and brushing the blood away with his sleeve. It made it sting worse and he had to wonder if he hadn't just rubbed small grains of glass into the cuts.

Kate was not going to be happy. Thank God Alexis already moved out.

"Shut up!" All of Donovan's composure had completely deserted him. Not a criminal mastermind.

"Do yourself a favor and turn yourself in; a stalking rap isn't the end of the world."

"No!"

"You locked yourself, unarmed, in a toilet stall in a public hospital with security; the same building as the police detective who already knows where you are and is going to arrest you."

"Of course she knows where I am. Kate always knows."

Castle wasn't sure if the drop in his stomach was blood loss or nausea.

"You have some serious problems you need to address."

"Oh just give me a chance," the man spat.

Castle wondered at the intensity. Donovan had been fine, cordial even, this morning until the laptop was found. He certainly hadn't displayed any desire to physically remove Castle from the picture. Of course, he had been too fixed on Kate.

Kate, his eyes slipped shut, recalling his own play back at Louise's apartment. He had kissed Kate and Donovan lost it.

The clothes? The irregular moods? Oh, this guy had a serious case of identity crisis. Castle had to think about where that left Louise to fit into this mess. Fellow obsessive?

"Where's Louise?"

"What do you care?"

"Come on, Tom. Don't make this any worse."

"You really are pathetic," Donovan shot back. "That's why Kate is going to choose me."

"No, Louise chose you." He hoped that didn't remind him how Kristie had obviously not; she had dumped him in favor of Kate by Donovan's reasoning. The blood flow was slowing, so he attributed the itch as it starting to dry or the maddeningly slow speed it had been reduced to. It felt like slow insects crawling down from his hairline, burrowing into his eyebrows and inevitably converging on his eyes.

"Pathetic." Castle wasn't sure if the scorn in the statement was for him or Louise.

"There's no way out, Tom," he tried to reason. Personally he was perfectly happy with the guy locked away until his partner or security arrived. Security preferably; he didn't want Kate getting anywhere near Donovan unless he was restrained.

"Kate'll get me out." More shuffling came from inside the walls. "She'll get me out," he muttered lowly.

Hopefully in handcuffs.

He reached for his phone, only now thinking to call since his subtle solo attempt had failed. Two missed calls. Oh, she was going to kill him.

"Castle?" The voice came from outside the entrance, probably bouncing around the female bathrooms as well.

Speak of the …angel. Very scary angel.

"In here," he called out of habit, knowing she was coming in anyway.

"Castle!" Kate's voice echoed off the sheathed walls, mixing with the sharp footfalls announcing her hurried stride.

"Do you know how many toilets there are on the fourth floor?" she demanded as she cleared the short hall and, highly flustered looking, erupted into the men's bathroom.

"No," he replied honestly. Breathing came easier at the sight of her and the situation seemed salvageable until he watched the color drain from her face.

"What the hell happened?"

Castle pivoted to look at the destroyed wall of glass and the dented bedpan lying amongst the shards of mirror.

"That wasn't me," he defended himself, blinking to dislodge the blood from his eyes again after the movement. "He threw it at me. Only my amazing reflexes saved me from involuntary brain surgery." Or that Donovan's hands were still wet when he snatched at the bedpan and threw it, making for lousy grip and aim.

Kate picked her way through the glass and he tensed himself only to be pleasantly surprised when she didn't slow but just wrapped herself around him with a swift strength which drove air from his lungs.

"You ever disappear on me like that again and I will kill you," she whispered into the side of his face. He was taken aback to feel her hands trembling as badly as her voice.

"Kate."

He pulled away to look at her and felt a low stab when she didn't have the presence of mind to even try and hide herself. Her eyes were glazed with chaos, swirling with tears and too many emotions to pin.

"Hey," he whispered, brushing her cheek. "I'm fine." His statement was offset by a wince when he realized he had just smeared a light trail of blood across her face.

"Have you looked at yourself lately?" she choked.

"Kind of hard to," he withdrew his hand and scuffed at a shard on the floor. "The bright side is he has seven years of bad luck."

He wasn't sure if the sound which escaped from her was more of a growl or a sob and her knuckles were white where they clenched at his jacket.

"You have to let go," he told her gently. He wrapped his hands around hers and slowly intertwined them, pulling them away from the thick material still dusted with tiny sharp slivers. It was probably thanks to his jacket that he made it through the rain of glass as unscathed as he did. Her breath caught at the blood he left behind when he let her go and closed her eyes, obviously trying to regain her composure.

"He's in there," Castle offered helpfully. "Unarmed and unstable."

She fisted a handful of paper hand towels and gently placed them to his forehead, indicating he should apply pressure himself.

Right. He should have thought of that.

"Donovan, you are under arrest for assault," she paused to shoot him a glance but he held up his hands –he was totally for the charges this time, "Obstruction, damage of public property and I will be filing stalking charges. Now get out of that cubicle before I shoot you."

There was no reply.

"Donovan!" she barked.

"You don't mean that, Katie."

"Like hell I don't! Last chance, Donovan!"

Inside the stall, all went quiet.

She began to use her shoes to clear a space on the floor where she could stand safely and kick down the door. The last thing he wanted however was her heels sliding on some unseen small shard and her landing in the shrapnel.

Castle turned on the faucet. "Wait, I've got an idea."

He pulled out his wallet and fished around until he found a dime. Kate just stared at him but he jerked his head towards the closed cubicle and began to move as quietly as he could over the mess on floor, hoping the sound of the rushing water would be enough to mask it.

He felt her warmth come to rest a cautious distance behind his back and in his peripheral saw her arms brace themselves and her weapon into the regulation triangle. With bated breath he slipped the edge of the coin into the engaged mechanism, into the small crevice designed for a screwdriver and twisted slowly anti-clockwise and watched the red slowly give way to green.

He shoved the door in forcefully, hoping to knock the man off balance and make restraining him easier. In the same movement Kate surged past his shoulder, weapon raised in warning.

But Donovan must have suspected something and had already retreated to the elevated safety of the closed toilet lid. He flinched a little as the door abruptly granted his attackers access, but it spurred him into action and he sprung for escape.

…

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