Okay, I don't know why the site isn't showing chapter 4 but i'll repost it - again - and see if that helps.

Author's note: Thank you all so much for the reviews, I'm glad to be writing a Castle fic again and I do think that the fans of that show (which I am, too, obviously) are amazing. In answer to a question, this story is pre-Gates and Beckett getting shot. She's not with Josh, either, or anyone else, because I'm a Castle-Beckett fan and like the idea of them together and since I'm writing the story there's no real reason for me to write something that annoys me! Also, I like Montgomery and while I'm sure there's a reason they took him off the show, it's another one of those things I don't like to write. There may come a time I write a story with Gates, but it isn't today or this story. I should have put that in the beginning notes so everyone would know who to expect to see, but I didn't think to. Sorry!

That said; let's see what happens next. This chapter might be just a little short...

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Kate…"

His voice was a whisper, and he'd brought a hand up to shade his eyes from the sudden light. A hand that was smeared with crimson and holding his cell phone.

"Jesus, Castle…"

She hurried over and knelt down beside him, taking in his injuries with a practiced eye as she did so. His face was bloody, but it looked like most of the blood was coming from a wicked looking gash that was right above his hairline above his left eye. There was a bit of swelling around that same eye, which told her that he'd been hit – probably with something other than a fist. He winced when she opened his sports jacket and ran her hands along his sides, feeling for injuries that she couldn't see without taking his jacket off – something she didn't want to do without knowing what other injuries he might have.

"Owww…"

"I'll call an ambulance," she told him, pulling her hands back and relieved to see that there wasn't any blood on them. At least he wasn't bleeding where she couldn't see it – although she'd felt some swelling along his ribs.

"No," he caught her hand as she reached for her cell, startling her. He grimaced in pain but his grip was strong and sure. This hand wasn't bloody, but there was swelling on his knuckles and his sleeve fell away enough that she could see a red mark on his wrist. "You can't. I need…" he shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

"Rick?" she was used to dealing with injured people. She was a police officer, after all. Beckett knew he might think he was okay, but evidence was definitely telling her otherwise. "I need to get you to a doctor."

He nodded, but didn't let go of her hand to allow her to make the call.

"My doctor. He can come here. I tried to call him…" he waved the phone in his hand, and Beckett took it from him with her free hand. A quick check showed it was dead. Which explained why he hadn't answered when she'd called him. "Please…"

Wondering if he was worried about the public hearing about this, or something else entirely, she finally decided to do what he wanted. She didn't see any major injuries and as far as she could tell his breathing wasn't compromised.

"What's his number?"

He relaxed, marginally, and closed his eyes.

"It's in my phone."

She looked at the dead phone in her hand.

"What's his name?"

"Gerald Cutter."

"Hold still for a minute…"

She took her hand from his and stood up, dialing dispatch even as she went into the kitchen and opened the freezer.

"This is Detective Beckett. I need the number for Doctor Gerald Cutter."

While she was waiting for the number she pulled out the ice bucket from under her built-in icemaker and grabbed a couple of clean dishtowels. One she made into an icepack and the other she soaked in cold water and wrung it out as well as she could with one hand. The dispatcher came back on the line with the number she needed and she dialed it and called Castle's doctor as she went back to the corner. His eyes were closed, but they opened again when she placed the icepack against the side of his swollen face. He hissed in pain but didn't jerk away, instead just closing his eyes again.

It was far easier to get the doctor to come than she had expected to. When he came on the line she introduced herself and told him that Castle looked beat up, and he simply asked where she was and a few questions about his condition and then told her that he'd be right there.

"The doctor's on his way, Castle," she told him, hitting the speed dial button on her phone that would call Esposito.

He didn't open his eyes, he just nodded.

Esposito answered almost immediately and with a few words Beckett told him what little she knew and told him to come over. She hung up knowing that he would call Ryan and the two would be there as soon as possible and put her phone away and pressed the cold, damp towel against his cut head. Since a doctor was on the way, she decided that it would be a good idea to just leave him where he was, rather than try to move him. Just in case he was hurt worse than she thought he was.

"Who did this to you, Castle?" she asked.

He opened his eyes again, looking up at her. His normally inquisitive and intelligent gaze was dull with pain and shock, and Beckett increased the pressure on the cut.

"I don't know…" he finally answered. "There was a man… he looked like me. And a big guy… who didn't." He seemed to rouse himself a little, and his eyes widened. "My mother and Alexis?"

"They're fine. I spoke with your mother earlier."

"Okay." He leaned back a little and his eyes closed again as his body seemed to relax a little. Beckett wedged the icepack between the side of his head and the wall he was leaning it against and got up. This roused him enough that he spoke up. "Don't leave me."

Kate brushed her fingers against his cheek – the side that wasn't swollen. "I'll be right back. I need to unlock the door."

She took care of that and grabbed a throw blanket from the back of her couch and covered him with it. He reached for her hand blindly, and Beckett caught it with one of her own while the other kept the towel against his forehead. She sat down beside him as well as she could and studied him carefully. He looked tired as well as beat up, and she had a feeling that that was at least part of the reason he couldn't keep his eyes open.

"Where have you been, Rick?" She murmured, softly, trying not to disturb him but wanting – and needing – to talk to him to reassure herself that he was really going to be okay. "I was so worried about you…"

He didn't answer, but the hand holding hers tightened just a little.