Esposito and Ryan walked in and nodded a greeting to Alexis and Martha before turning their attention to Castle and Beckett. She saw the folder in Ryan's hand and spoke up before they could.

"You went to the guy's place?"

Ryan nodded, glancing over at Martha and Alexis for a moment before turning to Castle, who shrugged and then winced when he hurt his injured shoulder with the motion.

"You can tell us in front of them," he told the detectives. "I'll tell them later, anyway."

"Guy was a serious whacko, Castle," Esposito said, taking the file from Ryan and handing it over to Becket, who sat down on the edge of Castle's bed beside Alexis to open it. They both saw a picture of the shooter, which looked like a mug shot without the police trappings included.

"That's him?" Alexis asked.

Beckett nodded as Castle leaned a little to try and get a better look.

"That's him."

"He had all the makings for a timed incendiary device in his bedroom – exactly like the one the FAA report shows was used to bring the plane down – and pictures of you all over the place," Ryan told them. "There's no doubt he's the one who planted it. We're still gathering background on him, but the neighbors we spoke to told us he'd been acting pretty weird lately – even more than usual. The place was plain creepy."

"I don't understand why he'd want dad dead, though…" Alexis said, staring at the picture. "He didn't do anything to him."

"Crazy people like this make things up in their minds," Esposito told her. "The more they dwell on it, the more real it becomes, until it's an obsession. He shows all the signs of having a delusional relationship with your dad…"

"Which ended – in his mind – when Castle killed off Derrick Storm," Ryan added.

Beckett looked at him, searchingly, and knew that they'd seen things in the shooter's house that she'd want to know about later, but that they didn't want to mention with Alexis there. Which was fine with her. She thought the girl was better off not knowing everything.

"We'll know more later," Esposito said. "But that's the bare bones of it."

"Thanks, guys," Castle told them.

The detectives didn't stay long. They had a report to start, and a lot of follow up. With a promise to return later to chat when they had more time, they left the room, leaving the others in the room mulling over what they'd learned.

"You should go home," Castle told his daughter, suddenly, reaching out with his uninjured arm and taking her hand. "This isn't really the best place for you to spend your day."

She frowned.

"It's where you are…"

Which made him smile, his eyes softening the way they only did when he was looking at her, or thinking of her. It made Beckett smile, too.

"And I love having you with me, but hospitals are depressing, and filled with hurt and sick people. You're healthy and whole."

"And in dire need of a diversion," Martha agreed, standing up. "And so am I. I think we should go shopping."

"But-"

"She's right," Castle agreed. "Take my card and have a good time." He looked at his mother and frowned. "But not too good."

She smiled, and Beckett and Alexis both got up and moved as Martha came over and leaned over her son to kiss his cheek.

"Shopping and spa treatments? What a fine idea, Richard. Thank you."

He didn't even argue. He took her hand with his and squeezed it.

"Have fun, Mother."

"We will, dear."

She waited while Alexis kissed him, too, and then the two of them left.

He looked over at Beckett, who hesitated before coming back over and sitting back on the edge of his bed.

"That goes for you, too…" he said, with a slight groan as he leaned further back into the pillows. His expression was now showing the pain that he'd refused to allow his daughter to see.

Much to his surprise, she slapped his shoulder – the uninjured one – and scowled at him, looking more than a little annoyed.

"That was dumb, Castle."

"They're not going to spend that much money," he said. "I have-"

"Not that," she interrupted. "Pushing me out of the way. You could have been killed."

He shook his head.

"I had a vest on. You didn't."

"A vest to protect your ribs," she snapped. "Not a bullet-proof one. And what if he'd aimed higher? You didn't have anything protecting your head."

"You didn't have anything at all…" he protested. "What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let him shoot you? Especially since it was me who got you into the whole mess in the first place?"

"This isn't your-"

"He was angry at me, Kate," Castle interrupted. "Because I killed off his illusion and replaced it with one of my own. You didn't ask for it, but I did it anyway, and look where it got you. You could have died – in the plane crash, or out in the park – and it would have been all my fault."

She was brought up short, her anger draining out of her at the pain in his expression and voice. Pain that had nothing to do with his ribs, or any of the other injuries he'd taken.

"You really believe that?" she asked.

He looked down, refusing to meet her eyes.

"It's true. Bad enough when I thought the plane crash was an accident, but he deliberately tried to make us crash – preferably into a bunch of trees – and –"

"He did it," she interrupted him. "Not you. Him. He made the plane crash. He brought a gun into the park with every intention of killing you – and maybe me – but it was all him. It wasn't your fault."

"I-"

"You can't make people do bad things, Castle," she told him. "They choose what they do. I see it all the time. The only people responsible for the evil that is done in the world are those who are doing it. No one else."

She stood up, and he finally looked up at her.

"You're smart enough to know that once you stop to think about it," she told him, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly for a moment before letting it go. "But don't you ever try to take a bullet for me again. Understand?"

He nodded, mutely, and she hesitated for only a moment before leaning over and kissing him, tenderly. Blushing just a little, she offered a slight smile when she pulled back.

"I'll see you later."

He nodded again, and she left before he could say anything else.