A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had it planned out then hit a major block.

Castle

Between the pain from the injuries, the still-fading adrenaline of the last few weeks, and the restless woman trying to sleep next to me, it's no wonder I'm not getting very much rest.

Everything is upside down, things are fuzzy and I still can't recall exactly what happened with Tyson. I remember bits and pieces, but according to Kate I was fading in and out of consciousness most of the time, and as soon as we arrived at the hospital it seemed, I was whisked up to surgery.

After almost a week in recovery they let me go home under the condition that a private nurse would come over every morning, and I would attend physical therapy for my damaged ankle once I was healed in other ways. I don't love all the fussing the girls are doing over me, mother fluttering about and keeping track of all my medications, Kate forcing me to use the crutches instead of the wheelchair, and Alexis barely able to leave my side. Everyone seems skittish during the day, but at night, that's the worst.

Kate tosses and turns beside me, sleeping but not resting. She wakes up about every hour, rolling over to check on me, then laying silently in the dark until exhaustion grabs her again. She never says a word to me, even though she's fully aware I'm awake. Sometimes in the morning she tells me what she dreamed about, but at night she's mum, twisting her temporary wedding ring around her finger. I can't help but smile at the thought of our quick hospital room wedding, the chaplain presiding over us for three minutes while the monitors beeped in the background and I was uncomfortably aware of my catheter. Someday we'll have a real wedding or at least a party, but when faced with the reality of everything, it gave us both something to be happy about.

I glance over at the clock and sigh deeply, trying again to fall asleep. All I can think about is how hungry I am, how long it's been since I've eaten, and the leftover homemade beefaroni in the fridge. We've been going through a comfort food phase, it seems.

I'm debating the long trek into the kitchen when I hear the now very common sounds of a nightmare from upstairs. Almost before I register the sound Kate is up and out of the room and I can hear her feet pounding up the stairs. It's the same every night, Alexis has a nightmare, Kate runs upstairs to wake her from it, mother gathers a cool rag and a glass of water, and somewhere in the fracas I manage to hobble my way upstairs to take care of my little girl.

It takes me just a moment to crutch along the room and longer to get up the stairs, and by the time I arrive the lights are on, mother is flitting about the room and Kate is perched on the side of the bed, speaking softly to Alexis who is nearly hyperventilating.

"Everybody's safe," Kate assures, reaching up to turn the lamp down a little. "We're all here and it's all over."

"No it's not!"

"Alexis, he's gone. Lanie did the autopsy herself. He's gone."

"Because I murdered him!"

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did! I shot him, Kate. Over and over and even when I knew he was hurt I just kept shooting. I'm a killer."

"No you're not. No. Alexis, you stopped a monster. You saved my life, you saved your dad, you defended yourself."

"I didn't have to kill him."

"Yes, you did."

"I can't take it back! I can't fix it. You're right, it's over and it's done and I have to live with how it happened. And that means he won, Kate. He wanted to destroy us and he has. Even from the grave I put him in, he's still playing the game. He won."

We're all silent for a while, mother sinking down into the desk chair, her face buried in her hands. I know what Kate is thinking, she's remembering that day at the precinct with Dick Coonan, shooting him to save me, the weeks of guilt and confusion that followed. I hate that my little girl is going through this now too.

I ditch the crutches and sit down on the other side of the bed taking her small hand between mine and covertly checking her pulse. It's fast, but probably not nearly as bad as it was a few minutes ago.

"Hey Pumpkin, there's no sense in feeling guilty about this. You didn't do anything wrong. He gave you no choice."

"Then why do I feel so horrible?"

"Because a life ended. And as much as I can say that he didn't deserve to live, you can't do that. That's who you are, sweetheart, that's who you've always been."

"It's not fair. I can't live the rest of my life feeling like this."

"It gets better," Kate reassures after a moment. "I know it doesn't feel like it now and I'm sure that if you do start to feel better you'll feel guilty for feeling better-"

"She knows you well."

"But you have to remember that right now everything is going to be a lot more intense than it would be normally. Just like when… when you came back from Paris."

"And I slept with a light on for three weeks?"

"Yeah. Eventually the light turned off."

"This is different than being temporarily scared of the dark. I killed someone. This isn't just nightmares, this is something I did and I can't make it go away, I can't just get over it. It's a part of me now. It always will be."

"I know."

The two of them share a look, one that I for the life of me cannot figure out and will probably never be privy to.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"If I had that answer for you, I would have given it to you a long time ago."

"I just have to live with it for the rest of my life? I'll always know that I killed someone. I took a life that wasn't mine to take."

"Until you get to the point that you can accept that you did what you had to do, then you're going to be miserable, you're going to feel guilty and you're not going to be able to find a new normal."

Alexis looks down at her hands and we all try to come up with something to say that will reassure her, but we're all at a loss. There isn't exactly a rulebook for this kind of thing.

"Okay," Kate says finally, moving to stand up. "I'm going to go make you a cup of tea and-"

"Wait, no."

"What?"

"You… you suck at making tea," Alexis confesses finally. I glance at Kate and see a grin twitching the corners of her mouth.

"I do? How? You just throw a bag in some boiling water."

"But you… you always take the bag out as soon as the water changes color."

"Apparently I'm too impatient for tea."

"I'll go," I offer, feeling some levity creeping back into the situation as I struggle up from the bed.

"I'd better help you," mother says, standing up as well. "Who knows what could happen when we mix you, painkillers, crutches, and a hot surface."

"Thanks for the belief you've always had in me, mother."

She laughs a little as we make our way out of the room and to the stairs. She starts down first, then turns to watch my progress, frowning.

"Richard, I'll go do this, you stay here. At this rate it will be morning before you make it to the kitchen."

I scowl at her but obey, turning back to my daughter's room and slowing down as I approach so I can make the turn. I pause when I hear voices, not sure if I should stand here and listen so they can have their conversation or if I should make a detour into the bathroom.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that, not at all."

"Do you think it will help?"

"If you want it to. If you commit to it and work with it, then yeah, I think therapy will help a lot."

"It's kind of scary."

"I still get nervous butterflies when I walk into Dr. Burke's office. I'm still afraid that he's going to get me to see something that I don't want to deal with or that I'll find out one more thing I have to work on. But I always feel better when I leave."

"I wish I could just shut it all off, you know? Put it in a box somewhere and take it out when I'm ready."

"You'd never be ready, it would be like the telltale heart sitting there ticking at you forever."

There's a short pause.

"Why are you always right?"

"It's my biggest selling point."

I peek carefully around the corner and smile at the image of the two of them sitting there together. I won't deny the seriousness of what happened and I won't ever let myself believe that the two of them weren't in near agony for those few days, but at this moment, they both look as if nothing is really wrong. They look like family, for the first time it really hits me how bound together we all are.

"Dad, we know you're there."

"As well you should," I reply, making my voice as light as possible as I painstakingly cross the room again. "So, what's the verdict? Want to sleep in the office with the TV on again?"

"Yes, but I shouldn't."

"Who says?" Kate asks with a frown.

"Well no one, but I have to sleep in here at some point."

"Remember when you told me that I don't have to be so brave? At some point you're going to have to take your own advice."

"I know."

"Okay, I'm going back to bed. Breakfast requests are due by seven."

"I like this domestic side of you," I mention, lifting my eyebrows.

"It's not being domestic, it's being the boss."

Alexis giggles and Kate leans over to kiss the top of her head.

"Goodnight kid. I love you."

"I love you too."

She slips from the room and I take my little girl into my arms, rocking her gently back and forth, the way I have since she was small.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you."

"It's okay."

"No it's not. You've been through too much the last few years, always worrying about me."

She's quiet and so am I, unsure of where I'm going with this.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Jerry Tyson may have won this one, but the reason you and Kate do this is so it doesn't happen again to someone else. Of course I worry and I'll probably have nightmares for a long time, but the way I see it, it's better me than someone else. But I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"But-"

"Dad, until I can figure out how to accept what happened, I can't be consumed with the injustice of everything. If I do that I'll never come out of it and I'll never be me again."

"Okay. But you know where I am if you need me."

"I'll get there. It'll be okay."

There's nothing more I can say or do to help her so I fall silent, trusting that will ask for help when she needs it. It's clear to me though that nothing will ever be the same, whether for better or worse.