They hit one another first. The collision with the wall comes second. His arms are wrapped around her so tightly that Kate can almost feel her ribs scraping by each other. The pain doesn't register as he slides down the wall bringing her with him.
She doesn't care that they're in the middle of the precinct in front of her friends and co-workers and Gates. Because he's holding her and it's not one of her nightmares from the hospital and it's real. His shuddering breath against her neck and the press of his fingers into her back and shoulder blades and the jut of his knee against her side prove that it isn't a dream.
He's whispering something over and over into her ear and it isn't until Kate focuses on something other than 'He's here' that she hears the words. It's her name, repeated as if a broken record. There're the warm spots that she can only pinpoint as tears because she knows she's leaving the same marks on his shirt.
No one interrupts them. People move around the two of them, using the elevator and getting water from the bubbler as if they aren't tangled together on the ground.
She speaks first but without moving her head from where it is still pressed into his shoulder. "Home," is the single rusty word she forces out.
Somehow they help one another to their feet, swaying against the wall for a moment before he reaches back and hits the elevator button – neither of them trust their feet with stairs. It's Castle that mutters "Cab" as they hit the lobby. One of the uniforms hails a taxi for them and Castle gives the young woman in the driver's seat his address.
The loft is empty, quiet. They don't bother with turning lights on as they stumble into the bedroom. Not the first time they've fumbled with clothing on their way to bed but normally they have more active things in mind than finally giving into exhaustion and pain and the relief of just being together. It was awkward, pulling hospital scrubs and loose yoga pants and t-shirts off without letting go of the other for fear that they'd disappear into the night.
They're naked by the time they pause and really study one another. There's nothing sexual with their glances, the soft touches.
His fingers skim over her cheek where there's the ghost of a scratch before trailing down over to the right side of her midsection with its row of neatly done stitches. "Kate…"
"'M okay," she slurs even as she traces a series of burns on his upper arm. "Your arm."
"Fine. Stings a bit."
"Oh god, Rick," Kate murmurs as she lets him gather her up against his chest as she breaks all over again. She can smell the hospital in his hair, against his skin as she feels him walk backwards toward the bed. He tugs her up against his chest, their hands tangled together between their bodies even as he tries to pull the sheets up around them.
Castle slips one of his hands from her grasp and brushes it up through her hair. "We're okay."
Except they aren't. Not yet. But 'alive' is close to 'okay' and that's enough for now.