They lay quietly in the darkened room, each lost in their own thoughts, but still sharing his bed since she wasn't in any hurry to get up. A by-product of the time they'd spent together in the wilderness, she was far more comfortable with him than she had been. Besides, she'd seen him at his best as far as she was concerned, despite the fact that he'd been hurt – or maybe because of it – and she'd liked it. Even now, he was still being very careful not to grope her as he held her, and she knew it wasn't because he was afraid to hurt his ribs.

"You never had any before the plane crash?" he finally asked, his hand tightening on hers in apology for asking a question that might upset her.

She couldn't shake her head because it was resting on his pillow.

"No. Not that I remember."

"You'd have remembered them."

"Definitely."

"If not for the fact that the focus was on me getting hurt and not you, I'd suggest PTSD."

"It's not."

"The first one maybe," he agreed. "But I'm safe and so are you, so while you could be having nightmares about the actual crash, you shouldn't be having them about me getting shot. There wasn't a gun with us."

"Right. Besides, I had PTSD once, and I think I'd recognize it…"

"Yeah."

It sounded to her like he was agreeing that if the problem was indeed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder it was something that someone could recognize if they'd had it before. Which made her think that she might not have been the only one who'd had it in their past.

She ran her fingers along the hand that was resting against her stomach, but didn't ask him to explain himself.

"It was probably just my mind getting the better of me," she decided. "I can see the rest of it, but we weren't in any danger of being shot…"

"No. But you're in danger of being shot all the time. You did say the gun was pointing at you first."

"I don't think so, Castle. It was all about you, really. I think you're right about me being worried about you."

"You don't have any reason to be, though," he told her, his voice sounding confused. "I'm not in any danger. No more than any other New Yorker, that is."

She sighed.

"I know."

He hugged her from behind.

"Don't worry, Beckett. I'll be careful and watch the sky for falling pianos."

She smiled.

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

It wasn't the end of it, of course, but they weren't going to solve the mystery in the middle of the night in a hospital bed. Especially since they'd just realized that there even was a mystery. Focusing on the issue wouldn't make it easier to solve. She knew as well as he did that the phrase sleeping on it made absolute sense. She used it all the time in her police work.

"I should get up…"

His hand tightened on her.

"Not yet."

"Castle…"

"I'm not going to do anything," he promised her. "I'm just not ready to let go of you, yet."

She could hear the change in his voice, and rolled over so she could look at him.

"You ready to talk about it?"

"The kiss?" he asked.

She smiled, but ignored the attempt at humor. She'd told him what was bothering her, now it was his turn.

"What's going on, Castle?" He hesitated, trying to look away, but her hand was right there, bringing his gaze back to her own. "Tell me."

"I'm just not ready to give up being responsible for you," he said, softly, pulling his head from her hand so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes. "Don't get me wrong; I wanted to get home – Alexis needs me and I need her – but I liked having you need me, too."

Beckett didn't force his head back up, but she did take his hand again.

"I'll always need you."

He shook his head.

"No. You don't need anyone," he replied. "You're tough, and smart and amazing. I know you're the one who watches my back when we're out chasing bad guys, and I respect that. But I liked taking care of you for a change. Although I would have preferred it came about a different way."

She didn't try to tell him otherwise; although she couldn't believe how far off the mark he was about her. Instead she carefully pressed against him and waited for him to put his arms around her again and hold her. It wouldn't kill either of them to cuddle for a while and it was almost a relief to allow herself to lean on someone else for a while. Like she had after the wreck. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd enjoyed having him take care of her, she decided as she felt him shift against her until her cheek was resting on the inside of his bicep and her forehead was against his chest. She sighed, deeply, and closed her eyes, relaxing completely with him.

"Don't fall asleep, now," he warned her, and she felt his voice rumbling in his chest. "I don't know how I'd explain it to the nurses."

She smiled but didn't open her eyes.

"I'll try."

Despite that, she actually felt herself drifting off almost immediately. A release after the bad dream that had rocked her night, and the presence of the guy who had literally pulled her out of the water and taken care of her right there with her. He didn't help her stay awake, either, running his fingers lightly through her hair and soothing her with the same touch that had soothed her after the nightmare she'd had the night after the crash.

OOOOOOOOO

He didn't know how long he held her after she'd fallen asleep, but Castle wasn't sleepy at all, and in no hurry to wake her up and lose her company. He had no doubt that things would change once they left the hospital and things went back to the way they had been, so he was going to enjoy having her with him as long as he could.

As he held her he thought of the nightmare she'd had and played it over and over in his mind as well he could from what she'd described. He wasn't sure what the dreams meant, either, but he was sure he was right about her being worried about him – at least subconsciously. He just couldn't figure out why she'd be so focused on him when she had been in just as much trouble.

OOOOOOOOOO

She roused as she felt someone pick her up carefully and heard a soft grunt of pain at the same time. Waking up enough to realize what was going on, she started to protest and tried to tell him not to – God only knew how bad that had to hurt.

"Stop wriggling or I'm going to drop you and spoil the moment," he told her softly. Either because he didn't want to wake her fully or because he couldn't breath around the agony in his ribs from picking her up.

She held still and he put her into her own bed, puffing a little as he covered her with her blankets.

"You okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah." He leaned over her, one hand on the bed on either side of her, and she could see that he was a bit pale, but looked okay otherwise. "I've been thinking, though…"

"Yeah? About what?"

"We should have had sex."

It was the last thing she expected him to say, and she knew it showed because his expression was suddenly incredibly amused.

"What?"

"Not earlier," he corrected, running one hand along his side. "There's no way I could have done much more than we did. I mean when we were alone after the crash."

"What are you talking about?"

"It would have given you better memories to be dreaming about," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, amused.

"Or worse nightmares."

He leaned over, and brazenly kissed her before she could even realize what he was doing. She sighed into it, and he deepened it for just a moment before pulling away.

"No. I can't see any nightmares in that, Beckett," he assured her.

She smiled, deciding that she'd let it pass – this time. Besides, he was right; it had been a nice kiss. But she couldn't let the comment slide; his expression was way too smug just then.

"You're that sure of yourself?" she challenged.

He smirked, and she had to admit that she really liked the cheery expression on him much better than the somber mood of the evening before.

"I'm that sure of you," he corrected. He kissed her again, and then tucked the blanket around her before standing upright again with only the slightest gasp of pain at the motion.

Bemused, she turned and watched as he got back into his own bed. He didn't say anything else, but they both fell asleep facing each other. And neither had any bad dreams.