She opens the door. He stands there with a serious look on his face.
"We need to talk."
"What are you doing here? Castle you shouldn't be here."
"I need to talk to you," he replies with seemingly no emotion.
"I didn't think you would ever want to talk to me again," she admits.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah," she nods.
He enters the apartment, and she closes the door behind him.
"You've been crying. Obviously you are upset," he glances at the coffee table, "What's with the booze, and the gun?"
"I found the bottle when I was unpacking. I just put it there."
"Next to your gun?"
"I was sitting on the couch when I took off my gun."
"You're sure that's all there is to the story?"
"Castle why are you here? Why did you fly all the way out here? You didn't have to come here to make me feel guilty. I feel guilty enough. I know that you hate me. You don't have to come here to talk to me about anything. You don't owe me anything. I have treated you so badly. I can't understand why you would come here," she tries to shift the conversation.
"Why do you always shut me out?" He poses an important question.
"What are you talking about?"
"You never really say what is on your mind. You never let on what is bothering you."
"I did. That is why we are here. Actually it's why you aren't here."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
"What are you talking about?"
"The past two weeks all I have been able to think about is you. I couldn't understand why, or how you made the choices that you did. I was so angry. I felt so betrayed. I thought that you loved me."
"I do."
"And yet you sabotaged everything. It makes absolutely no sense."
"I know."
"And I couldn't understand why. Why would you throw away something that we both wanted so much? What would compel you to throw caution to the wind, and ruin everything? You ruined your relationship with me. You killed your relationship with Esposito, and Lanie. And for what? To what end? Then I realized that you were doing what you do best."
"What is that?"
"You were trying to protect us."
"By hurting all of you? Castle I don't know what logic you're using, but what you're saying doesn't make sense."
"Things didn't work out the way you planned."
"Does anything ever go the way that I plan?"
"You wanted to make us all so angry that none of us wanted anything to do with you. You wanted to distance yourself so that it wouldn't hurt so much."
"Castle why are you here? You could have called me on the phone to tell me about your wildly speculative theories. A text message would have been better. I never meant to hurt you. I just chose to act selfishly. I don't want to face you. I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you. You shouldn't have come."
"It's not a theory it is the truth. You thought it would work, and it did. Except for one thing that you didn't anticipate. You got pregnant. Now I understand why you said you wanted to wait. It all makes sense now."
"How does any of this make sense to you?"
"I am a writer. It is all about the story."
"Castle!" she raises her voice, "This isn't one of your damn stories. This is my life! You can't make up some wild anecdote to explain why someone would do something so completely reckless, and stupid, and hurtful. You should hate me. You shouldn't be here. You should just let me go. Dammit! Rick, just let me go."
"You're dying," he says flatly.
"What?!"
"You're dying," he confronts her.
"What would make you say that?"
He holds up a manila folder. "I have your medical records."
"What?! How did you get those?"
"It doesn't matter," he insists.
"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let me go?" She wonders on the verge of tears.
"Kate tell me the truth. I am right, aren't I?"
"Castle please just go."
"You know how persistent, and how stubborn I am. It is one of the things you love, and hate about me. I am not going anywhere until you tell me the truth."
"Two years ago I woke up in the hospital after being shot. I was so grateful to be alive, to have my life back. I knew that I needed to make changes."
"Then what happened?"
"An intern walked into my room, with a nurse, and a neurosurgeon. They told me that they performed an MRI."
"You were shot, that is kind of routine," he points out.
"And they found something."
"A gun shot wound?"
"Other than a gunshot wound. Larger than a bullet hole."
"And more deadly, too," he narrates.
"Do you want me to tell you, or not?"
"Please."
"They found a growth."
"A tumor," he guesses.
"That is what they thought."
"Where?"
"Why are you asking if you have the file?"
"Because I want to hear it from you."
"Or you're bluffing."
"I'm not. Please continue," he begs.
She looks at the team of people surrounding her. She blinks unsure what they're doing in her room.
"I thought that I was going to be discharged," she points out.
"Miss Beckett there is something that we need to discuss with you," the intern begins.
"I thought that I was free to go."
"We found something on your MRI," the surgeon reveals.
"A gun shot wound, I know."
"Something else," the surgeon responds.
"Who are you?"
"I am doctor Cline. I am the neurosurgeon."
She cocks an eyebrow, "Neurosurgeon? What do I need a neurosurgeon for?"
"Miss Beckett is there someone you want us to call?"
"Call? I survived being shot. Why do you want to call someone now?"
"Ma'am like I said we found something on your MRI," the surgeon continues.
"Of my shoulder?"
"No of your head," the nurse replies.
"My head? Why did I have an MRI of my head?"
"You hit the ground. We wanted to ensure that you didn't have a concussion or any other trauma," the intern explains.
"Do I? Is that why all of you are here? The last time I checked a concussion didn't warrant a consultation with a neurosurgeon."
The nurse intercedes on the behalf of the two men standing with her. "We found a growth. It appears to be a tumor. Judging by its size, and position we feel that it more than likely that it is malignant. We can't know any of that conclusively until we..."
Kate cuts her off, "I am not going to have my head split open."
"If we are correct there are different types of treatments to shrink the tumor, and give you..." the intern begins.
"What would be the risks?" Kate queries.
"Paralysis, loss of function, death, those are the most serious," the nurse answers honestly.
"And if I don't?"
"You could live for months, or even years. We can't really say with certainty until I biopsy the tumor," the surgeon reveals.