Chapter 3: Okay.
He's at Alexis's side immediately, holding her hand, brushing her hair back, whispering to her, telling her how much he loves her and how sorry he is and how exactly could this be happening to her, to him, to them. But he's grateful, so grateful, that his baby girl is going to be ok, that she's going to wake up and have her life ahead of her once again. So among his apologies and tears he says thank you over and over, not even pausing to wonder who he is thanking, because it doesn't matter, Alexis is ok, everything is ok.
He hears a noise from the hall, then the sound of something dragging across the floor, and looks up. Kate pulls a chair to the side of the bed where he is standing. The sight of the chair causes him to notice the ache that's settled in his back from bending over the bed, and he wonders how long he's been there.
He doesn't know what to do or say or think. Here she is, being the very picture of supportive, understanding, kind, caring, her actions saying more than she ever has. He reminds himself that she does care about him, even if it's less than he does for her, even if it's different. He reminds himself that everything is ok, that even if Kate doesn't love him, he has Alexis, and everything is ok.
He realizes that he's still standing, that she's frozen at her spot just a few feet away from him, unsure of what to do or how to help. He whispers a thank you, falls into the chair.
"I called Martha. Espo and Ryan and Lanie are all here, in the waiting room." A pause, a breath. "Martha said she's on her way back into the city. I told her not to rush, that Alexis is sleeping anyway." Pause. Deep breath. "There were two shooters. Kids from another high school, a public school, who hadn't graduated. Apparently threats had been exchanged earlier in the day when these kids showed up at Alexis's graduation, and they decided to make good on them by showing up to the party with guns." Another pause. "Five students were shot. One fatally. Not even a graduate. The little brother of the girl who was throwing the party." Another breath. "But they're in custody. We have their guns, their statements, the statements of everyone at the party."
"How is this happening?" He's thinking it as he feels his back settle into the chair, but doesn't realize he said it out loud until she takes his hand in hers and squeezes, offering some comfort.
"Why does everyone I love get shot?" His brain-to-mouth filter must be completely broken, because from the look on her face, he realizes he must have said that out loud, too. Damnit, Rick. Good one, real smooth. "Sorry," he mumbles, turning away.
"Castle?" He hears the real question in her voice: did you just say you love me? Again? And he is screaming at himself in his head at his utter stupidity. But he's so hurt and confused and exhausted that he doesn't even have the energy to hold back.
"Don't act so surprised. I know you heard me." His tone is bitter, harsh. He glances up at her just as it all registers on her face. She looks shocked, then pained, then horrified, and suddenly she is leaning against the hospital bed, seemingly unable to hold herself up.
"You know?" she croaks out.
"I heard you tell the bombing suspect. You remember every second of it. I didn't deserve the truth, but he did." He pauses, waits for that dig to reach her, wants to see it in her eyes, before he continues. "I get it. You were embarrassed. I'm not who you are looking for. I'm not who you want. I just…" He's not even sure what to say to her. The overwhelming feelings of anger and depression are taking over again, magnified by the fact that they're in a hospital room because his daughter was just shot. "Didn't I deserve the truth, Beckett?" He continues, anger making his voice louder, making him shake, making him want to scream. He reminds himself that he needs to keep his voice down, and takes a deep breath, starts talking more softly. "After all the time we've spent together, all the things we've been through together, didn't I deserve to know?" His voice breaks at the end and he looks away. The sight of Kate looking so hurt while sitting next to his injured, unconscious daughter is too much. He stands up. "You know what? I need some air. You should go anyway." And with that, he walks out.