Chapter Eight: Back against the wall.

At the top the stairs Kate's knees begin to tremble. She's broken bad news, the worst news to hundreds of people over her years as a detective – but it never gets easier and although Martha's still alive, Kate thinks this might prove to be the most nervous that she's ever felt.

Oh God, Martha.

It puts Kate's heart right into her throat just thinking about what could be happening in that operating room right now as the doctor's fight to save this amazing, vibrant, wonderful woman who Kate's come to completely love.

And as much as it's breaking Kate - what's happened to her marriage - she knows she'd rather give Castle up forever than to have him face the same pain that she's lived with since she was nineteen years old. And really, it's worse for him in some ways – isn't it – because it's not like he'll still have his father, his mother is all he's got.

The cop shakes her head to clear the spiraling thoughts and squeezes tightly onto Alexis' hand instead, shooting the girl a small encouraging smile that she manages to pull out of nowhere.

"Guest room?" she asks quietly.

Alexis nods. "Seems like the most likely place for him to be."

Kate leads the way, determined now to take this burden off of her husband's daughter; there are some words people should just never have to say.

Swallowing a wave of nausea, Kate pushes the guest room door open as confidently as she can, not knowing whether to be relieved or terrified when she finds Castle still sleeping in the room's queen-sized bed.

A glance at Castle's daughter shows the young red-head already in tears so Kate frees her hand and crosses the room alone. Steeling her courage she sits on bed beside him and reaches out a hand to shake his shoulder. His bare shoulder, a fact that shouldn't even register right now, but she can't help if the smooth, warm feeling of his skin against her fingers burns within her. She hasn't touched him in so, so long – it's hard in the moment to comprehend how she's been able to stand it.

He doesn't immediately stir, totally sacked out, so Kate tightens the grip she has on him and shakes him harder.

"Rick," she murmurs her voice far too quiet and somewhat trapped in her throat, she coughs to clear it, "Rick, wake-up."

He stirs, but it's not much more than his face crumpling into a frown and the shift of his wide shoulders against sheets. She tries again.

"Rick? Rick, (she has to swallow the word 'baby' before it can escape) you need to wake up, Castle. Castle, come on."

This time his eyes open, slivers of bright blue that find hers like a heat-seeking missile, and she wonders if it was because of the usage of his last name. He sits up quickly, the sheet falling away from his torso revealing the entire expanse of his broad chest and Kate has to fight with her own eyes to keep them on his. Her small hand is still on his shoulder and the flare of pain in her gut when he backs away from her is impossible to ignore.

He doesn't appear to have noticed Alexis yet, just rubs at his face and says wearily, "Kate, you need to get out of here."

"Something's happened," she says neutrally, trying to erase everything she's feeling except compassion from her face. "Castle, I'm so sorry but Martha's been hurt."

His jaw slackens and it's then that he notices his daughter standing in the doorway of the room.

"Alexis?"

The young woman's lip trembles and she looks to Kate blindly as a fresh wave of tears slips down her pale face.

"Alexis?" Castle asks again.

"Dad, I-"

Kate draws a deep breath and reaches for his hand, gripping his fingers tightly so that although he tries he can't pull them free. It's enough to have his focus back on her in a heartbeat.

"Kate-"

His handsome face his twisted with worry, eyes silently begging her to just say it already.

"It looks like a home-invasion," she says softly.

A bright fear flashes recognizably across his eyes and his jaw tightens perceptively.

"Is she . . . is she alive?" he grinds out.

Kate nods, "She's in surgery, Rick. Alexis wasn't given all the details but we do know that the man your mother was seeing is dead, and that Martha has some bleeding in her brain. They're operating right now to relieve the pressure."

Castle swallows rapidly, like he's trying to prevent himself from being sick.

"How?"

That's all the question he actually asks, but Kate understands it.

"She was shot." Eyes filling with tears she adds, "Castle, I'm so sorry."

Her husband's mouth opens and closes and he screws his eyes shut for a moment as he gathers himself. Kate waits for him to tightly thank her for staying to break the news before he politely asks her yet again to go. In fact she's mentally preparing for a fight with him, for how she's going to word it that Alexis has asked for her support. It completely floors her when his fingers twist inside hers, wrapping around her hand and holding on. His grip is bruising, it hurts, but she knows him well enough to understand that he's almost unconsciously anchoring himself right now – and he's anchoring himself to her. It doesn't matter in the moment whether he realizes this or not – all that matters is that he's doing it.

It's the first tiny spark of hope he's given to her – and she's probably reading way too much into it – but she can't help rejoicing in it for a small moment.

Castle opens his eyes and lets go of her hand, he pushes past her as he exits the bed – bee-lining for his daughter who he catches up in his strong arms. A pair of well worn plaid pajama bottoms sits low on his hips and Kate just watches the muscles moving under his skin – mesmerized.

Alexis sobs onto his chest and Kate waits anxiously, torn between wanting to give them a moment to comfort each other and wanting to get them out of here so that they can get to Martha's side and figure out what comes next. Her cop senses kick in, thankfully and the brunette detective forces herself to take charge.

"We should go," she says decisively.

Castle's eyes dart to hers, his reply is low, weary, and broken. "I've got this, Kate. You can leave now."

Like hell she will.

And she's about to start that fight she'd been preparing for when Alexis beats her to it. The writer's daughter pushes out of her father's embrace and wipes at the wetness on her face with frustrated hands.

"I want Kate to come with us, Dad," she tells him firmly.

Castle looks at his daughter stunned, "Why?" he breathes.

Alexis swallows looking suddenly unsure before she straightens her spine, "I think Grams would appreciate Kate being there. And I know I would."

Her father frowns, "Alexis-"

The red-head interrupts, "Please, Dad." It's both a plea and a request to not be questioned further, at least not now. Kate hears this in her step-daughters tone as clear as day, the question is – does Castle?

Kate watches with her breath held as father and daughter stare each other down. Castle is clearly confused as all hell as to why Alexis, of all people, would suddenly want his estranged wife with them. Hell Kate is still a little confused, but she'll take any reason to stay at this point, any reason at all for being allowed to help him through this. She has to be here for him now, she just has to. She's already failed to help him with so much.

"We really should go, Castle," she says again, with all the confidence that she can muster while she paints her face with a look that she hopes brooks no argument.

"Go where? Exactly?" he asks.

Kate looks to Alexis.

"New Jersey. Grams was airlifted to a hospital in New Jersey."

The writer stares for a long moment at the floor, before he turns to leave the room. "I'll go and get dressed," he says as he heads out. "I'll meet you both at the car," he adds before he almost sprints for the stairs.

Kate heaves a small sigh of relief that he's letting her go with them. It might not be much, but right now anything is a start.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you Mr. Castle?" Martha's surgeon has blood on the hem of his scrubs and Kate can't stop staring at it, nor can she stop the shivers from racing up and down her spine.

Oh, Martha. Please, Martha – don't leave him..

Kate looks over at her husband as he nods in response to the question, but his blue eyes are somewhat vacant and Kate knows that what the man is telling Rick is just not sinking in. The cop pushes past her misgivings, her feelings of wanting to be here and hating that he doesn't really want her to be here, and she offers the surgeon her hand to shake.

"I understand," she assures him, quietly, before she tilts her head towards a pale and trembling Alexis, "As does his daughter. We'll fill him in when he's ready."

The surgeon – Dr. Elijah Browne – assesses her astutely for a moment before he smiles faintly.

"Mrs. Castle," he replies, "I'm sorry I don't have better news. The bleed into her brain was bad one and until she wakes up, if she wakes up - we won't know the extent of the stroke that she's suffered. I just need you all to be prepared for the fact that it is bad one. She's stable, but I'm afraid it would be imprudent of me to promise you that she can make a full recovery."

Kate bites on her lip to hold in a sob, it's just impossible for her to imagine Martha Rodgers as anything less than vibrant, loud and in-control. She grasps the doctor's elbow and tugs him slightly away from Castle's side, motioning to Alexis to remain in her seat beside him.

"What can you tell me about the bullet?" she asks, tugging her shield out of her jacket pocket. "It's not my jurisdiction, but the Hamptons' Chief of Police is a family friend, I assure you he'll keep me appraised of all the details of the investigation."

Dr. Browne shrugs.

"Nothing really, I didn't have to recover anything as the bullet glanced off her temporal plate and didn't penetrate into the skull, although it did cause a large skull fracture. I'm guessing the bullet was most likely a small caliber because of this, but that's merely my opinion. I'd also say she was most likely moving, probably ducking at the time. Her companion died at the scene, shot through the heart, you'd need to speak to the coroner for the details since we never treated him here."

Kate nods, fights back the images her brain can so easily call to mind.

'Thank you," she says softly. She's turning away when Dr. Browne stops her.

"You can see her shortly," he says. "Once she's been transferred to the ICU from post-op. Although I must warn you – her appearance may shock you. The stroke has affected the nerves on her left side quite dramatically and her face is uncontrolled on that half because of it. You might want to warn your daughter especially Mrs. Castle, if she knows what to expect before she sees her grandmother it will be less upsetting."

Kate feels herself blanch in horror, before she asks, "What else should we expect?"

"She's paralyzed on her left side – that much is already obvious to us, so she's going to be dealing with severe mobility issues. Apart from that it's hard to say. I would expect her to experience difficulty speaking as well as moving, and it's also possible that she may not be able to understand language at all. It's called aphasia, Mrs. Castle. And it could be as simple as word confusion and difficulty naming things, or it could mean the complete inability to communicate. As I said before – until she wakes up there is no way to know the extent of what you'll be dealing with. With luck, she may not have this problem, but my experience with similar hemorrhagic strokes leads me to believe that we should anticipate at least some degree of this."

The news renders the cop momentarily speechless.

"But, she's an actress," she whispers brokenly.

Dr. Browne looks grave. "I'm so very sorry."

Kate was afraid that between herself and Alexis they'd have to physically steer Castle up to the ICU ward when word comes through that Martha has been moved there. But the moment the words have left the male nurse's mouth, Rick is practically sprinting from the room and they have to haul their own asses to keep up with him.

In the elevator to the correct floor, the writer is practically bouncing in place. He hits the room where she is at a run, Kate and Alexis hurry after him and find him next to Martha's bed on his knees, as if he just collapsed there. The sight causes Alexis to seek shelter in her step-mother's arms immediately, and Kate fights back her own sense of despair as she feels the girl's gasping heaves against her neck. She buries what she hopes is a soothing hand in the younger woman's hair, stroking through it slowly.

Castle is silent as he reaches out to take one of his mother's small hands in his, but Kate can feel it all overwhelming him when he buries his head on the bed and all she can do is watch when his strong shoulders begin to shake. She tightens her hold on Alexis then, murmurs useless words of comfort against her ear.

She doesn't know how long they remain like this; but it feels like hours before she feels Alexis begin to pull away.

"I'm going to call her school," she whispers. "Classes are over for the summer but I think they need to know."

Kate nods. "What ever you want to do," she answers quietly.

Alexis looks over at her father, still hunched over by her Gram's bed.

"Stay with him."

"I won't leave."

The door to the room opens and re-closes with a soft snick and Kate wavers on her feet, caught up in maelstrom of conflicting feelings and without a clue what to do. In the end, she just goes over to him, drawn like a magnet to his presence before she reaches out a shaky hand that hangs for a terminally long moment of indecision in the air. Eventually she musters the courage to take the risk, and she cards her fingers oh so gently through his hair.

He doesn't shake her off, but the act of touching him like this seems to remind him that she's there. He raises his head and when his tortured eyes meet hers it knocks the wind completely out of Kate because of what she can see there.

Want. Powerful, all-consuming, overwhelming want – for her. Want that she knows he'd hide if he could, and may not even realize is showing.

"Kate," he whimpers, "My mom, Kate."

Tears rise up in her eyes and slip silently down her cheeks and she shifts her fingers from his hair until they cup the side of his face.

"I know," she whispers. Everything Dr. Browne has warned her about goes through her head, all the complications they've possibly got to face. She drops to her own knees beside him, risks resting her forehead against his. She's waiting for him to pull away but he doesn't, he just whimpers again, his words desperately clear.

"My mom."

She tugs him into her arms then, a small part of her still waiting for him to throw her off, the remainder knowing without a doubt that Alexis is right, and that he needs her here – needs her to find the strength that he can feed off.

"I'm here," she whispers into his neck, it's both promise and plea. "I'm here, Rick."