Chapter 120

Castle with a good dose of resistance, accompanied Kate to see the NYPD counselling service. Initially, he did so only to walk and get fresh air to alleviate the hangover. During the subway journey, Beckett stood within his personal space, his outstretched arm holding a pole for support. She had a finger hooked on to his belt to keep her steady while she gazed up at him, eyelids lowered hoping he would cave in and agree to participate in counselling.

Feeling her penetrating gaze, he looked down at her in question. "What?" He asked.

"Would you please come in with me for the therapy?"

"Why? It's all behind us."

Beckett took a deeper breath and decided to take him on. "Maybe," she paused for gravity of the situation. "Maybe the counsellor will provide you the tools to help sort things out with Alexis."

He sighed, stared into the train car but placed his free hand on her upper arm and gave it a light squeeze.

"I'll take you there and wait for you," he said.

"Come in with me. We were there, Rick. We can both …" She bit her lip, seeing her attempts to coerce him were to no avail.

With fingertips he touched her hair, then lowered his hand with the realisation they were in public. "I'm okay, Honey." He calmly assured casting his eyes over a bunch of disinterested passengers.

"We're here," she said.

As the train pulled to a stop, they made their way to the doorway with a handful of other people. Luckily, they were travelling during off peak time enabling a quick exit when the doors slid open.

They had pockets of light discussion during their walk to the Police centre, and Beckett managed to persuade Castle into agreeing to give the counselling a shot, that it might help him out. He said he would only go if she was with him because he didn't want her to feel any negativity about what they had gone through to get where they ended up. Shooting Coonan.

Castle sat with Beckett in the reception area of the psychiatrist's office, but he clearly wasn't happy about being there. He was restless and repeatedly checked his watch. The moment a door opened, and a tall, black man appeared, Beckett stood and picked up her coat from Castle's thigh. She glanced to him and seeing his expression she knew all too well, she concluded he wasn't going to accompany her. Instead of encouraging him, she looked forward and walked to the doorway.

"Good morning. You must be Detective Beckett." The tall slim built man smiled, "I'm Dr Burke."

"Hello." She gave him a shy smile. When she glanced behind her and saw Castle remained seated, but he encouraged her to go with a wave of his hand.

The psychiatrist Beckett was allocated had been employed by the NYPD for some years and although Kate hadn't met him before she would one day come to depend on his expertise. He seemed laid back and she learned he was quite relaxed with his approach to counselling.

Beckett did a quick check of the office particularly the wall of bookcases. He was a man who collected and hopefully read a lot of books. Much of the décor was NYPD standard issue for furniture and the three armchairs facing each other were quite inviting. It was obvious where the psychiatrist preferred to be seated, so she chose an armchair opposite him and sat down. She gazed down at her thighs in black jeans.

"Your partner didn't want to join this?"

Beckett looked to the door, to the doctor. "Arr, he's unsure. He might come in later."

"Alright. Well, we'll get started. I've been briefed on the incident you are here about. You are required to attend a minimum of three sessions, and you have the option to continue."

Beckett nodded her understanding but found it hard to be in the room and focus on an event that took place a few days ago when Castle was still reeling over the fight yesterday. Granted the fight was a consequence of Coonan's death but it's what currently worried them. The urge to seek out Castle, to ensure he was alright was quite strong.

She gave the psychiatrist a bullet point rundown on what lead to the event, the event itself and then the fall out, what she remembered of that part. Telling him, made her realise that she had pulled through the incident pretty much unscathed. She had faith she wasn't disturbed by taking a fatal shot and accepted there was no other way out of the situation other than to take the shot. She also shared she was experiencing restless nights with disturbing dreams but understood they would fade away given time.

Kate fell silent because her thoughts were really with Castle, her concerns rising because he hadn't joined her for the session. Almost halfway through the hour, and she wanted to cut the session short.

It was the doctor who stood, disrupting Beckett's flow of thoughts and she watched him step to the doorway. He opened the door and looked out.

"Mr Castle, would you care to join Detective Beckett? I think she would like you with her." He waited and then stepped back into the room.

Kate anticipated Rick would decline to join her, but he appeared. He shook the held-out hand of the doctor's then looked across the room at her. She instantly smiled, hoping he would continue into the office.

"Kate, is there something you wish to say now that Richard is present?"

In response, Kate drew in a deeper breath and shifted in the armchair. Castle placed his arm within her reach, and she immediately took his hand. She looked at him, saw him give her that look of encouragement.

She addressed the doctor. "We are together," she said fully aware that everything they said never left the room.

The doctor gave a nod of understanding.

"So, when he was held hostage by the deceased I was in a predicament where my personal and professional partner's life was on the line, yet my training took over my emotions."

"Yes. The reports I have read, all commend you with your unfaltering conduct."

"She was excellent," Castle said.

"I was terrified-"

"And it was entirely my fault," Castle said, cutting her off. "My decisions put us there." He breathed deeper, stared at Kate's hand that he held.

"Would you like to talk about that?"

"Yeah, well, I got cocky, tried to lure out the contractor by paying a fee, but we were tricked by Coonan. I realised too late. Detective Beckett figured it out and we should have had a plan before we confronted him. Now he's dead and she has to process all that."

"I'm okay, Castle," Kate stressed.

"No. You're not okay. You've been dreaming."

"You're fighting with Alexis."

"It was a stupid fight. The whole fight was pointless."

"For Alexis it probably wasn't," Kate replied, her eyes on the doctor.

"Would you like to talk about the fight?" The doctor asked Castle.

Castle sighed and fidgeted.

"My teenage daughter was quite overwhelmed by the event. She heard more details from fellow students than she did her father, and that gravely upset her."

He shared a little more with the psychiatrist but clearly held back to the point Kate nearly excused herself from the room so he might talk in private. The truth was she had been worried a lot about how Castle was and where he mentally was.

After the hour with the therapist, they rode the elevator down in silence. Castle excused himself, telling Kate he needed to take a walk alone to get some air. Kate decided to go shopping to purchase a few small household items for the new apartment. She also inadvertently browsed clothing stores and purchased a couple of outfits to replenish what had been destroyed in the explosion. She returned home with a bundle of items she unpacked, and she then spent her afternoon sorting out the apartment. While she made a late afternoon snack, there was a tap on the door. She opened the door to Castle who stood there holding half a dozen shopping bags and a smile full of boyish charm. It made her heart melt and momentarily forget about the concerns for his welfare.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey." A cautious smile formed when Kate caught a whiff of alcohol. She scanned his face, interpreted his expression, and assessed the shopping bags.

"May I come in?" He asked, his eyes widening.

"Of course. I was just making something to eat." She opened the door wider for him to enter. With lips pressed together her eyes followed him as he entered the apartment. He keenly leaned in and pressed his lips to her left cheek."

"You smell gorgeous," he said as he pushed the door closed.

Kate smiled. He had most definitely dropped by a bar for a drop of grog. He wasn't smashed, on the way, nor even tiddly. Sober as a judge, but he could hold alcohol well, and knew a drink would take the edge off, help him relax, chill out.

"You've been busy."

He laughed joyously, "Oh, have I been shopping alright." He stopped when he happened to glance at the kitchen counter. "And it seems so have you." His eyes were on the new bone coloured kettle that was perched on the gas burner. "Rocking it old school with a kettle this time?"

"I am." Kate excitedly replied as she kind of bounced into the kitchen to show him. "The whistle will remind me I set the water to boil because I always forget the electric kettle."

"Yes, you do." He left the bags on the floor beside the kitchen island, reached for Kate's right hand. "C'mere, Detective girlfriend."

She snorted in amusement, smiled and obliged him with his wishes. She closed in on him and gave him the kisses he signalled he wanted.

"What did you buy?" She asked, her eyeline lowering to his hand that cupped her.

"A few things. I will show you later."

"What are you doing, Castle?" She asked with concern, stroked the side of his face. He was amorous, his hands had lifted her dress and cupped her backside.

"You know what I'm doing." He mumbled, between a trail of kisses up her neck. "Gonna seduce you and make love with you for the rest of the day."

And he did exactly that.

Within the security and solitude of the bedroom, Castle rested against Beckett's body, his arms relaxed on her shins. His eyes were closed, and his head used her left shoulder to rest. Beckett held him firmly, her eyes fixed on the doorway to the living room. She had agreed to stay at the loft that evening but regretted the decision. The air was frosty and tense. Alexis wasn't talking to her father and hadn't come down from her room since she came home from school. Castle had been up to see her and had returned a few minutes ago frustrated and angry. Tonight, he didn't reach for the bottle, nor step out to find a drinking buddy. He stayed home, because Kate was there with him, and he needed to be home with Alexis.

She had listened to their raised voices from the living room, and had retreated to the bedroom and taken a shower, mainly so she wouldn't hear them argue. Martha had chosen to intervene, but Kate was unaware of how successful that had turned out to be. She had wanted to do the same thing but wasn't confident her presence would help.

"You okay?" She asked into the quietness of the bedroom, her tone younger than her years. His heart beat hard and a little fast beneath the palm of her left hand. In response, Castle gave a slight grunt and placed his hand over hers. She pressed her lips to the side of his head accepting his noise as a response. They were in an unusual position. But with Kate already in bed reading with her back against pillows and the headboard, and Rick turning in later, he had crawled across the bed to put himself between her thighs. He'd taken the book from her and discarded it on nightstand. With his weight against her body, his frame surrounded by her limbs she considered how sizeable a man he was. Her thighs were about the same diameter as his upper arms. There was strength in him, but he only used it with her when they were engaged in physical activity, and never hurt her.

She pressed her lips softly to his bare shoulder, conscious of the fear in the depths of her soul. She was afraid, perhaps bordering on being panicky, but she didn't know why. It had crept in earlier in the day when, once again, Castle had disappeared for hours after seeing the therapist and it was gaining strength. There had been a few times she had called his phone, but he hadn't picked up. After some time, he had sent her a text that simply read he was okay. Because of that, Kate had dropped any further attempts to call him, making the decision to let him sort himself out.

"You cold?" Castle softly rubbed her chins bringing her back to the present, "You feel warm."

She stroked him, brought from her thoughts to the present.

"I'm alright," she replied.

"You're not okay. You're trembling."

She squeezed him hoping it would go away. "Just thinking about things."

"You were biting your nails before," he said. "You only do that when you're nervous."

"Castle." It came out as a whine a tone that told him to back off.

He lifted her left hand and studied the tips of her fingers. Evidence of his statement was present. "Ka-ate."

"I'm anxious," burst from her, "And I say that because I know if I don't say anything you will persist until I cave."

"Why? Why are you anxious?"

"I don't know. My instincts are niggling at me, Rick."

"Niggling?" He closed his fingers around her hand. "You heard Alexis and me?"

"Yes. Not what was said but I heard your raised voices."

Rick sat up and with some awkwardness with their entangled limbs, he managed to wriggle about until he faced Beckett. She brought her legs up to her body and looped her arms around her shins.

He once again reached for her hand, "Look Honey. This thing with Alexis. It will pass. She has her own life and she-"

"She's too young to lose you, Castle. I was 19 when I lost Mom. She's what, seventeen?"
"Mm." He placed his hand over her knee. "We have your place. We can stay there when Mother comes home."

"That's-" Beckett pressed her lips together, glanced to the doorway closest to the living area, then back at Castle.

"That's what?"

"A band aid," she quietly said. There was significant unease in her gut. She looked at his hand cupped over her left knee and watched him absently stroke her, and as he did so, his hand moved and then his finger traced the scars her knee bore from surgery years ago.

"Better than the gaping wound."

She raised her right eyebrow. Silence fell between them for several seconds.

"How are you doing, Rick? You've been through a fair bit. You're doing a few crazy things."

The smile he kept for her appeared. "I know I've been a pain in the ass since this all took place. I've probably drunk way too much. I've bought you a few things. You're my girlfriend so I can."

She softly smiled. "That's okay. I'm not gonna be mad at you about that."

"But you're mad at me?" He asked in surprise.

"No." She shook her head, "Not that."

"Then what?"

"I'm scared."

"Honey, don't be scared," he urged, "or anxious."

"I can't help it," she whispered, cast her eyes over his face. "There's things happening that are out of my control."

"Baby, we've gotten through it. We just have to roll with the fallout for a bit, okay? I will go to therapy again if you want to, and things will better with Alexis. I'm okay."

She gave a nod but not for a second did she believe he was okay. She had an idea he needed to spend some one-on-one time with Esposito, that he would be the person who could tap into Castle through processes on almost being shot at point blank range. It was a lot for anyone to deal with.

"Alright. Well, I'm really tired." She slipped her feet beneath the bed sheets and Castle scuffled across the bed to his side. "You don't have to go to therapy, you know."

"I know." He placed his hands under his head. "But I will."

Beckett had an urge to rest her head upon his shoulder, but the low level anxiety had her want to retreat within herself a little. She placed her body to its side facing Castle and pulled the covers up.

"I hope you don't have nightmares tonight, Rick."

"I'll be fine. Your experience was worse than what I went through, so hopefully the psych has helped you enough that you sleep peacefully."

"Soon find out," she replied and closed her eyes.

They sure found out. Shortly before 3.00 am, Castle was startled awake by panicked cries in the dark. Beckett was sitting up with outstretched arms, fingers. Her hair was messy from a disturbed sleep, her skin damp with perspiration and she cried. The pink top she wore clung damp to her body.

He sat up, scrubbed his face, whiskers rough on his hand and he calmly said, "Kate. Wake up." He cupped Kate's head, stroked her hair. The moment her eyes blinked open she sucked in oxygen and the cries ceased. She clutched at his forearm.

"Oh! You're alive," she gasped.

"Yes, Honey," he nodded with enthusiasm and a smile. "I'm alive. You're safe."

"I shot you, Castle," she stressed, "I shot you in my dream."

"I'm okay. You shot the correct person." He tried his hardest to conceal the worry he felt for her. "It's just a dream, Hon. Calm down," he soothed.

"I know, but it's so real, and my hands are soaked with blood."

She made a noise and suddenly struggled to get out of bed.

"Rick. Toilet," burst from her, "I have to go."

Rick let go of her and backed off to provide her with space, then yanked back the bedsheets. Long legs slipped out of the bed and in her hast she stumbled off the bed to the floor, Rick unable to rescue her.

She cried out.

"Slow down, Kate."

She whined in response, struggled up and tripped her way to the bathroom. He stayed on the bed, surprised by how uncoordinated she could sometimes be. He listened as she crashed her way to the bathroom to vomit. She whined, groaned and cursed.

Minutes later she flushed the system after using it for its designated purpose. He heard her blow her nose then wash her hands. She brushed her teeth and used the mouth wash.

When she returned from the bathroom, she was wearing one of his sweaters, a white one. Her skin was about the same tone. For support, she held onto the wall.

"Castle?" She wavered. "I don't feel so well."

"I can see that." Rick stepped off the bed and went to Beckett's aid, placing his arm around her waist fearful she might collapse. "Let's go make a drink, shall we?"

She nodded, "Milk would be good."

"That's a negative to milk."

She moaned, almost growled her objection to his response.

"It will make you sick again."

"I'm sorry, Rick."

"You're the last person who should be apologising for being sick after my performance the other night."

"Oh yeah. For the record, this is not alcohol induced." She stopped walking, glanced to the bed she wanted to return to.

"C'mon." He took her hand and walked her from the bedroom, through the living room to the kitchen. "Take a seat on the stool, Honey."

She sat, swung around and put her arms on the counter and sunk her head until her forehead rested on her arms. Castle hastily retrieved her favourite throw rug from the sofa. He spread it over her shoulders and tucked it around her body.

"You're trembling. You okay?" He asked.

"Cold. Nauseas."

Castle paused and looked at Beckett, her head slumped over. This wasn't like her. It was the rare day she was under the weather.

"This is not a continuation of the nightmare, Kate."

"No." She followed her reply with a whine of what he thought was unwellness.

"Water? I don't think milk is a good idea."

She grunted her thoughts on that, but Castle chose to ignore her. He filled a glass with tap water and put it on the counter nearby.

"Kate? Water."

Kate propped herself up by pushing her arms against the countertop. She stared at the glass of water in the crystal tumbler. "Castle?"

"I'm here." He touched her shoulder as he placed a bucket on the counter beside the glass. "You look like death warmed up," he commented, stroked her head. "And you're burning up."

"Feel like shit."

"I can see that," he replied. She had large glassy eyes that looked like they were about to roll upwards, but she managed to mostly focus on him. He frowned, brushed his thumb over her cheek, took a contemplative breath then asked, "Honey, what's going on?"

"I don't know, Rick." She pushed her head into his hand signalling she wanted more of his affection, so he obliged.

"Must be a virus," Castle said, "But my gut tells me there's something more to it."

"Maybe."

Castle looked over her face. She looked and sounded so young, so timid.

"What's bothering you?" He asked. "Something is."

"I might know."

"What?"

"It's humiliating."

"Honey, its me. You've been witness to some of my monumental humiliating moments and royal fuck ups." He smiled, got her to smirk. She was dead white, like she was about to pass out, but she spoke.

"Yeah, I guess I have. Well here is, Roy said I will receive a police medal of honour for bravery and protecting a member of the public."

Castle processed the news he hadn't heard about until now. He was also unaware there was such an award.

"You have thoughts on that, besides humiliation?" He asked genuinely interested in hearing her response and leaned his backside against the kitchen bench to wait.

"Yes. I do."

Castle rubbed his chin in thought, watched her, waited for her to continue. The emotion showing through her eyes was quite powerful. When she didn't speak, he prompted. "Are you going to share with the class?"

"Castle, I don't want to accept it. I wasn't brave or believe it's an act that should be rewarded."

"Have you told Roy this?"

"Yes. He said I can't. It would be an insult. That I did something honourable, and it needs to be acknowledged by the NYPD."

"Well," he scratched his head, "Honey, you should be proud of your actions in the NYPD generally. You are a great detective and how you handled yourself should be recognised."

She shook her head in the negative. "If you hadn't smacked Coonan in the face with your head butt, Castle, the ending might have been completely different."

"I'm positive it would have," he humbly agreed. It was a sombre realisation and he let it be processed internally.

He returned to the moment with Beckett's urgent grab of the bucket into which she was sick. He reached for the paper napkins and placed the roll where she had access to it. Luckily her stomach was empty, but he did question why she was nauseas.

When she was done, she stood off the stool to go clean the bucket. She wavered and grabbed for something solid to hang onto.

"You giddy?" He reached out to her upper arm to steady her stance and extracted the bucket from her grasp. "Let met help you."

"I feel so sick." She collapsed back onto the stool and her head returned to where it had been five minutes ago, resting on her forearm on the counter. "Oh God, Castle," she groaned.

Castle placed his hand to her back and gave her several caresses. "You look like shit, Kate. I'm betting you have gastroenteritis."

"Stomach flu? How?"

"Who knows? You're run down, susceptible to picking up viruses. It is a virus."

Beckett let out a long-defeated groan.

"I'll go see if we've got something in the medicine cabinet that might ease the nausea." He left her to return to the bathroom.

When he was rifling through the drug cabinet, he heard Beckett call his name in a tone he hadn't heard much before. With a packet of over the counter drugs in his hand, he returned to the living room to find her untidily sprawled across the floor, face down over the bucket. His shoulders dropped. It was going to be a long night.