Author's note: Okay, here comes chapter six. I hope it doesn't take so long to show!

OOOOOOOOO

With Beckett's help, Doctor Cutter settled Castle on the couch with a few pillows propping him slightly upright and cradling his head and a warm comforter off of the bed in the guest room covering him. While they did that Esposito went back to Castle's place to pick him up a change of clothes and some toiletries – including a razor, since he was wearing a couple of days worth of stubble. He'd probably feel a lot better in the morning if he had a change of clean clothes. Kate was glad he thought of it, because she wouldn't have.

Cutter gave Beckett a packet of painkillers and a few instructions for what to watch for in case he'd been wrong and the writer was injured worse than he thought. He told her to call him when Castle woke and he'd come over and check him over again. Beckett thanked him for the immediate attention he'd given Castle and the doctor had admitted that he and Castle played golf together whenever they had a chance, so he didn't mind.

When everyone else had left she pulled the icepacks off his bruises and covered him warmly, and then went to make new ones for later. After that, despite the fact that it was starting to get fairly late, she called Martha to advise her that she didn't need to worry about Castle, she'd found him. Which wasn't exactly true, but was better than the truth and would keep the older woman from worrying or cutting their trip short. That taken care of, she pulled the blanket from her bed and settled in the leather chair that was positioned near the couch. Melodramatic, maybe, but Beckett was honest enough with herself to admit that she'd had a bit of a scare and needed to make sure that he was really going to be okay. If that meant staying by him that night to be able to change out the icepacks at the intervals that Cutter had told her, then that's what she'd do.

She wasn't going to be able to sleep, anyway, she was sure.

OOOOOOOOOOO

A soft groan jerked Beckett out of a half doze several hours later. She sat up quickly, her blanket falling to the floor as she looked over at the sleeping form on the couch. Only he wasn't completely asleep any longer. His eyes were closed but his face was contorted in agony and she knew that it had been the pain that woke him. She crouched down next to him, her fingers gentle as they touched his arm. He opened his eyes, startled at the touch, and flinched back with a yelp that ended in a curse when the action caused pain to explode across his head and torso.

"Easy…" Beckett murmured, putting her hand back on his arm, reassuringly. "It's okay, Castle."

He turned his head, his swollen eye not changing much, but the other one clearly trying to focus on her.

"Kate?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"What?"

He looked around and started to sit up.

"We need to get out of here," he started to say, but the motion hurt and he couldn't sit up completely. His eyes closed and his hand went to his head, even as she pressed him carefully back against the pillows.

"You're safe, Rick," she told him. "You're at my place."

"What?"

"You're at my place. Look."

He pulled his hand away and opened his eyes again, but he looked only at her.

"Kate?"

"Yeah."

"My head hurts…"

Clearly.

"You've got a pretty nasty cut. Your friend Doctor Cutter stitched you up and gave you a painkiller."

"Gerald's here?"

"No. He left."

Castle lay still, probably trying to figure out where he was and how to stop the aching in his head, but Beckett was already standing up.

"Don't leave –"

"I'm not. I'm going to get you something for your head."

"It hurts."

"I know."

He managed to keep his eyes open and watched her as she went into the kitchen and gathered an icepack, the painkiller and a glass of water to wash it down. When she returned, he tried to sit up, but again was stopped by the pain – both in his head and his body. The only plus was that the pain seemed to be helping him clear his head – at least a little. His eyes weren't quite as glazed over, at any rate.

"Swallow these," she told him, pressing the pills against his lips rather than risk him dropping them if she handed them over. He did what she told him, and she held the glass of water against his lips, too, simply to avoid water being spilled on her new leather couch. He washed the pills down, choking a little and then leaned back into the pillows again.

"You found me?"

"No," she told him. "I didn't even know you were missing."

"How did I get here?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"I…"

He stared at her, looking so miserable that she knew he wasn't going to be able to answer that question just then. Beckett decided that the interrogation was going to have to wait. She'd dealt with people who weren't any more coherent than he was just then and she knew she wasn't going to get anything out of him until he could get past the pain he was feeling. Besides, she didn't want to add to his misery if she could avoid it. She leaned forward and touched his cheek.

"Don't worry, Rick," she said, gently. "The answers can wait until morning."

He met her gaze for a moment and then his eyes closed. Beckett assumed that the medication was kicking in and he was going to fall asleep again. Which was almost definitely for the best, as far as she was concerned. She picked u the cloth-wrapped icepack and pressed it against his swollen cheek, figuring she might as well try to get the swelling down a bit while he got some sleep.

"Kate?"

His voice was sleepy, and his eyes never opened, but he managed to find her free hand, and he held it loosely. She looked down at it, a million emotions going through her just then, and she had to clear her throat before she was able to answer.

"Hmmm?"

"Thanks for finding me…"

She started to correct him, but it wasn't necessary. He'd already fallen asleep again.