I'm getting close to where I started this story back in about mid 2017. I was working part time, doing online undergrad science degree and my life was about to change big time. So much has happened. With this I'm exploring the realities of discharging a weapon and I've learnt it gets complicated.

Chapter 119

It was Kate that disturbed them in the dead of the morning. She woke with a cry and her body lunged into an upright position. Disorientated but conscious, her eyes opened to her hands held out and she swore they were covered in blood. She cried in horror.

Castle, who was quite groggy, reached out and touched her arm, then stretched to close his fingers around her hand.

"Honey?" He sleepily said.

"My hands! Blood!"

Rick gradually sat up. "Kate. You awake?" He touched her bare thigh which startled her, but then her hand landed over his and gripped at his fingers. "I take it that's a yes."

She panted, whined at the sight of the blood.

"Rick," she said, her breaths shallow. "Rick."

"I'm here." He laid again, wriggled closer and reached around her drawing her in. Usually she didn't like to be smothered when she was coming out of a nightmare but this time she turned about, clutched at him with childlike desperation.

"Nightmare?" He asked with a husky deep tone, relaxing to cope with her movement, "Are you awake?"

"Blood over my hands."

"Nope. Not awake. There's no blood, Kate," he eased. "Your hands are clean." He calmly held her trembling body, caressed her back.

"Huh?"

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah." She inhaled deeply, "Not sure. Reality," she replied, slowed her breathing and relaxed the grip she'd had on Rick.

"Espo washed blood from your hands about the time you threw up."

Kate remained silent for several seconds, suddenly aware of his scent mixed with alcohol. "I don't have a memory of washing my hands or vomiting."

"I do, about two hours ago."

In a better state of calmness, she laid down. Castle was fading fast, falling back to sleep, way too intoxicated to remain conscious for very long or to carry a lengthy conversation. She quietened and made every effort to return to sleep. But sleepiness was gone, and she felt very awake. Castle's breaths resumed their natural state of when he was sleeping and his hand that had found its place on her thigh, slipped from her.

Some time passed with her memory going through the fleeting moments before she shot Coonan dead. It was on repeat, and she tried to determine whether she could have made different decisions, adapted a better stand, spoke differently but on each occasion the story rolled out to the release of the fatal bullet. And then time jumped to her sitting on the couch in the breakout room with Castle patiently sitting before her, holding her hands in his, his forehead close to hers. She recalled that Esposito had been beside her, had talked her back to reality. She hadn't been worried that Castle was soothing her and holding her hands in front of her colleagues. At the time it had been all she wanted. Esposito had not mentioned it either, had just accepted it as a part of their partnership, their bond.

Several hours later, well beyond daybreak Beckett woke needing to use the bathroom. She found she was pinned beneath an arm sprawled over her pelvis and a face buried in her hair.

With some effort she wriggled and pulled her body out and hair loose until she slid to the floor. She gathered herself up and left Castle undisturbed in bed in the company of what would be a mega hangover. It would probably be what brought him to consciousness. He hadn't consumed enough water to ease the post-event pain of his solo drinking binge. The bedroom had a boozy stench. She desperately needed fresh air and her ears desired a break from his loud dry snore. Overall, it had been a rough night. Not only had she gone to bed well after 3.00 am, sleep had been disrupted by nightmares and snoring.

For a while she sat alone in kitchen, the window cracked open to allow in fresh air. A steaming hot coffee was quietly sipped and she checked into her social media. She also remembered to text the boys to let them know Castle had turned up, but she didn't specify where. As they were off duty for the next few days, the risk of prying questions would be lower.

Beckett managed a half hour yoga session in the living room, surprised by her ability to block out the Castle's rhythmic parched snore. It was when the snoring ceased, she knew was at the least semi-conscious. By the time Castle came from the bedroom she was preparing them breakfast. He attired in the same t-shirt and boxers he had retired in, with hair messed from sleep and a decent growth of whiskers. She paused to fetch him a glass of water and two painkillers and subtly observed him drag himself across the living room to the kitchen. There wasn't much zest in his step.

"He awakes," she commented with an amused smile, curious to learn how badly he suffered a hangover.

"Good morning, Honey." He kissed her cheek but like his tone, the action he made was flat compared to how he would normally carry it out.

"Good morning?" She inquired, slipped two tablets to his palm and passed him the glass of water.

"You're a darling. My head is bloody well thumping," he murmured then tossed the pills into his mouth.

"I bet it is, bloody well thumping. How's the throat?" She poured his coffee and watched him chase the pills down gulping the water like a man dying of thirst.

"Dry," he said and clunked the glass to the countertop, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I guess I snored."

She smirked. "Like a bulldozer, Buddy."

"Sorry 'bout that. Is that coffee?" He pointed at the mug before her.

"Mm. Your mug of ambition. I made it extra strong." She pushed the mug across the counter to him as he lowered himself onto the stool at the breakfast bar. There was some empathy for his physical state, but she was more concerned for his mental wellbeing.

He had a care swig of the brew, clearly liked the taste of it. "Good girl. Thank you." He placed the cup on the counter and for a moment or two he rested his head on the heels of his hands and growled, "Ambition, my ass."

Kate smirked, stroked the top of his head in an attempt to tame the messy hair. "You slept late." She said continuing to use a soft tone, so Castle didn't feel like she was using an amplifier in the core of his brain.

He sat up and scrubbed the sleep from his face. She heard the drag of his palms against stubble. It was strangely arousing and brought heat to her cheeks.

"What time is it?"

"A little after ten," she replied and sipped on her mug of coffee.

"Wow." He looked surprised, reached for his coffee. "Fuck. What did I get up to last night?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Castle."

"You weren't with me?" He furrowed his brow trying to recollect even strands of memories. "No, you weren't with me."

"No. But we were out looking for you for hours. All the bars and diners we've been to with you."

"I was with Tommy. He said to say hi." He sipped the hot drink then put it to the counter. "Mm. The coffee is good."

She leaned against the counter deliberating whether she should be concerned about his big night out or just let it go as a one-off event. The, 'I nearly died so I need to party hard to prove I'm alive', kind of event.

"Mm." Amused, she smiled, bit her bottom lip.

"Don't do that," Rick pleaded with a wantful groan.

She gave him a questioning look and he waved his hand across his lips. Only then she realised what she had habitually done. Even so, he was flat. Sometimes her physical habits had him begging her to make love, and although she'd evidently got a reaction it wasn't his usual, 'hey we have the place to ourselves, nowhere to be, how about we…?' routine. She probably needed to be concerned, although she had enough to deal with herself. She tapped the counter with her nails.

"Do we need to talk about yesterday, Rick?"

Rick, who was staring into his coffee, looked up at Beckett. "No. Not unless you want to. I'm good. You?"

She shrugged her right shoulder, "I'm good. Your mother will though. She wasn't so good last night."

"I'm a grown man, Kate. I should be able to be absent once in a while."

"Yep. Right." Beckett picked up her coffee mug, her long fingers surrounding it. "You're right," she said into the coffee her breath sending up a little puff of steam. "Alexis?"

"Yes. Alexis." He sipped his coffee. "Way too many women around me," he complained.

Beckett chose to remain silent on that one, aware he was simply airing his grievances. However, he hadn't heard the worry in his mother's voice last night when none of them could find him. She sipped her coffee then said, "We have counselling booked today. Separate."

"Yeah." He sat up and scratched his head, ruffled his hair up a little more than sleep had. "About that. Do I have to attend?"

"I don't know. You're not NYPD. I'm obligated to. Montgomery wanted you to have counselling."

"Might skip it."

"Your choice." She glanced at the time. "I called your mom and let her know you're with me."

"Thanks." He looked about the apartment. "Did I do any damage here last night? I can't remember how I got here."

"No damage. Do you remember being sick?"

"Vaguely. I'd rather not remember, but I do recall coming to bed surprised and pleased to find you there."

Castle's eyes never left her as she strolled around the kitchen counter to him. She stopped between his knees. In silence, she studied his face, stroked back a few rogue strands of hair. There was no physical damage, no bruises. His whiskers felt prickly on her fingertips as she stroked along his jaw line. He hadn't shaved yesterday at all and although his whiskers did grow fast, he would never be able to sport a thick beard.

"I was worried about you last night," she murmured, her eyes swapping between his eyes and lips.

"Yeah?" He grumbled. "I was fine."

"I nearly had to tell the boys we're together because I knew too many of your local watering holes."

He chuckled. "Got to stop taking you on my pub crawls." His large hands cupped her buttocks and drew her closer and she looped her arms loosely about his neck, resting upon his shoulders.

With a soft smile she asked, "So you found, your friend, where were you?" Fingers stroked the back of his neck and she saw it immediately relaxed him to answer. She wasn't prying but she considered she had a right to ask and receive an answer.

"After I left home, I called Tommy."

"Mm." She nodded.

"He happens to be in town. We met up at a bar, stayed there awhile. Later, he took me back to his restaurant where we ate, and drank, like kings. My memory after eating is shot. I think I made a reservation to take you there. You will love it. Then he must have got me back here. I don't remember that part at all. But I must have told him where you live because he wouldn't know."

Kate pressed her lips together, then said, "I tried to find him because I thought I would find you."

"Yeah. Don't be mad at me. I do recollect him saying someone was trying to call him and I was ignoring my phone, and currently have no idea where it is." He searched around them.

"Coffee table, with the rest of your carry-on items."

"Oh. Good. My phone for you is at home."

"Okay. Explains that."

He stroked her back, "I was safe with him, Kate."

"How is Tommy?" She asked.

"Tired of travelling. Can still cook, and drink me under the table. I do remember he asked why I hadn't brought you along. I think he likes you." He grumbled the last comment as he rested his forehead to her chest. "My head hurts."

"Drink more water," she replied her hands stroking his head. It turned to a hug when he pulled her right to his body. The strength in his arms told her he really needed a secure hug, so she gave it to him, at the same time, finding security within his strong embrace, his large frame. There was a part of her that was scared out of her mind, but she couldn't figure out why. The anxiety and emotions within her were without cause, but she sensed something bad was going to happen.

"I love you, Kate."

"I love you too." She squeezed him as tightly as she could wishing the past few days could be swiped from their memories. It wasn't like a TV cop show where they brandished their weapons all the time, shot randomly without repercussions or emotions. The reality of releasing a bullet into the atmosphere and it striking another human was far more complex.

"Come back to bed?"

"Rick, it's after ten." She pulled away a little, studied his face.

"It's after ten pm somewhere in the world."

"We can't." She remained softly spoken, patient. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I know I've asked, but seriously, do you want to talk about what happened yesterday at home?" This was her last ditched effort to help him get anything off his chest.

"Nope. Do you? Coz I sure want to forget it."

"I guess not. I'm good." Kate pressed her lips together. "Okay. Well, we need to start getting ready to leave."

"More coffee, Honey. Please."

She scanned his blue pleading eyes. "Lucky you're a cute drunk," she said as she poured him more coffee.

"Thank you, but I don't think there was anything cute about me last night."

"I don't know Castle. Finding you asleep on the couch with my stilettoes on your chest."

"Ha. I do remember checking them out. Very nice heels."

"Yes, thank you. Very expensive."

"Who cares?" He asked as he stood off the stool. "I know how beautiful your legs will look wearing them."

Kate paused, processed his comment he'd made so casually as he walked away. She remained in the kitchen, and tidied, while Castle went for a long shower. He came back in fresh clothes he'd found, his hair tidied, unshaven, but the effects of the hangover remained. He looked like a man with one hell of a hangover. There was toast on offer when he once again took his place at the counter, almost begging her for a third mug of coffee or to be put down in order to alleviate the pain in his head. Instead, she left a bottle of water, uncapped, in front of him and demanded he drink it. She also dropped a B12 tablet into the water.

Castle vacantly stared at the tablet as it dissolved, producing bubbles and a thickening orange cloud in the water. He seemed simply captivated like he'd never seen the process.

Beckett rolled the eyes. "Drink it, Rick. I'm going for a shower," she said as she left him and headed towards the master bedroom.