May 27, 2011 (10w2d)
He knew the worst was over. Well, the worst for him at least.
No more sitting, waiting, wondering when she would wake up.
No more long stints of deafening silence.
No more staring at the wall cursing himself for all the things he could have done, but didn't.
She had come back to them and finally, they could breathe again.
But Kate's consciousness would come with its own challenges, they all knew that.
She was exhausted, she was struggling, and - in true Kate Beckett form - she was too stubborn to do anything but suffer through it in silence.
The hospital's physiotherapist had shown her no mercy, pulling her from her bed and forcing her to walk laps of her room as she clung to the rolling IV pole as if her life depended on it.
Okay, maybe that wasn't a completely objective take on the situation, but still, the man could have gone a little easier on her considering she was in a coma just yesterday.
She had insisted she was fine, but the permanent grimace on her face as she - very slowly - took each small step was more than enough to convince Castle otherwise.
Her father had been banished from the premises for failing to hide his concern.
I don't need your pity, she had growled at him when he offered his hand for support. Thankfully, he knew better than to argue and, when she grumbled her insistence that he go get a coffee or something, he gracefully took his leave.
As Jim left she glared at Castle, almost daring him to comment. He wasn't stupid; his mouth stayed shut.
Once Doctor 'No Mercy' was satisfied, he helped Kate back into bed and Barb began the process of 'settling' her. She removed the bag of IV fluids from the rolling pole and hooked it onto the pole that was fixed to the head of Kate's hospital bed.
"He's helping, Castle," Kate stated calmly once the physiotherapist left the room.
Her voice was hoarse and laced with fatigue. Her words came out in a breathless whisper, but he could tell she was feeling like she had achieved something. There was a positivity in the air; a light that he had no intention of dimming.
"If I'm going to get better, I need to put in the work," she reminded him as she looked up at him through fluttering lashes caused by too-heavy eyelids.
"I know." He smiled as he ignored the but... that was forming. "I just don't want you to push yourself too hard, you know?"
He stepped toward the bed and took her hand in his.
"I'm okay," she assured him.
Her eyes drooped as he combed his fingers through her hair but Barb's soft voice beckoned her and kept her from succumbing so easily.
"I'm just going to swap you back over to the wall oxygen supply," the nurse explained once she had Kate's attention. "Ready?"
Kate nodded, closed her eyes and began to take slow, deep breaths.
Ten seconds was all it took. Ten seconds, maybe even less, for Barb to disconnect the portable oxygen tank and reconnect Kate's nasal cannula to the wall supply. But ten seconds was enough.
Castle watched the monitor as the little white number - a visual representation of her oxygen levels - began to drop.
96... 94... 92.
They returned to a more acceptable level just seconds later, but not before triggering the monitor's alarm.
Barb was quick to silence it. "Just ignore that," she said with a reassuring smile. "It's a bit sensitive."
He could see the frustration on Kate's face, the internal battle she was fighting as she walked the delicate line between accepting that she wasn't well - and adjusting her expectations accordingly - and pushing herself to the absolute limit as she had done so many times before in the name of progression. The next few months - at the very least - was going to be hell for everyone involved, of that he was sure.
Soft vibrations from his phone rippled through his thigh, alerting him to an incoming phone call. He pulled the device from his pocket to cut off the call. He could call whoever it was back later but he saw that the call was from a private number.
"Excuse me for just a moment."
He walked out of the room but before he could answer the call, he heard a familiar voice.
"Yo, Castle," Esposito called out as he and Ryan approached.
"Hey, guys."
"Hey," Ryan greeted as he peeked over Castle's shoulder toward the glass-walled room. "How is she?"
"She, uh-" Castle looked down to the phone in his hand: it had stopped ringing. "Can this wait?" he asked as he turned back to the boys.
"We have to talk to her, Castle," Ryan said; apologetic, but firm. "You know that."
"I d- I understand that," Castle assured as he looked over his shoulder to check on Kate. "She's exhausted."
"We need to find out if she knows anything. Maybe she saw something?" Esposito suggested.
"She didn't." Castle's insistence was met by two frustrated sighs. "She's foggy from all the medication. Even if she had seen something, she doesn't remember it."
"It's been days and we have nothing," Ryan said bluntly. "We have to at least try."
Castle sighed. He knew he didn't have much choice in this - the man who had tried to kill Kate was still out there somewhere. It was easy enough to pretend they were safe in the confines of the ICU, but she would be moved from this little glass box soon enough.
Realistically, he couldn't protect her from the unknown. Even if he could, she wouldn't run from this.
"If she agrees," he said, conceding.
He took a step back and held the door open for the boys to enter Kate's room. He watched their feet as they crossed the threshold, as the outside world penetrated their little illusion of safety.
"Lookin' good, Beckett," Esposito remarked with unprecedented cheer.
Castle almost scolded him, but when he looked over to see Kate's bright, smiling response, he realised that maybe a little light-hearted banter was exactly what she needed right now.
Too bad that wasn't what she was going to get.
"You feeling up to answering a few questions?" Ryan asked as he tapped his notebook to his palm.
"Detectives," Barb greeted with a smile. "Ms Beckett has had a big morning-"
"It's okay," Kate interrupted with a weak smile. "I feel okay."
"If you're sure..."
"I am," Kate reassured her nurse. "Thank you."
Barb moved to the nurse's station and began to enter the latest data reads into the computer, giving the group as much privacy as possible.
Kate smiled at the boys. Their emotions were on full display, evident in their glazed eyes and bittersweet smiles.
"Hey," she finally greeted them.
"It's good to see you," Ryan said genuinely.
In true cop form - never let a sentimental moment pass without an ill-timed or mildly inappropriate joke - and with a beaming smile, he added: "Espo's a liar though, you look like hell."
She laughed and covered her face.
"Hey now," she said slowly, trying not to show just how poorly she truly felt. "Don't make me have to kick your ass."
"You know she can do it, bro," Esposito added with a chuckle.
He looked over to Castle, who didn't seem amused.
"You know we're just messing around," he assured the writer.
"Oh, yeah, I know," Castle confirmed with a smile. "I was just thinking: if I had been the one to say that I would probably have the nearest sharp object protruding from body right now."
"Oh, shush," Kate groaned as she swatted her hand against his stomach.
"See what I mean?" he said pointing to where she had 'hit' him.
Kate shook her head and rolled her eyes, but it felt good to fall back into this dynamic so easily.
She pressed her palms against the mattress on either side of her body and shifted herself up the bed so that she was sitting more upright. At that moment, as if to remind her not to feel too confident in her strength, her stitches from surgery pulled. As she grimaced and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, she accidentally inhaled her saliva.
Kate squeezed her eyes closed and ignored the discomfort in her throat, chest and abdomen as she began to cough violently. She took a stilted breath in before coughing again and again until after a long, uncomfortable minute, she was able to stop the pulsing in her diaphragm.
"Karma?" Castle joked with a nonchalant shrug.
She laughed, appreciating his efforts to not make this a bigger deal than necessary.
"Shut up," she groaned as she unsuccessfully swallowed down the feeling of needing to cough again.
Castle grabbed the water bottle from the side table and unscrewed the lid before holding it out for her to take once the coughing fit had passed.
Just as she managed to regain control the monitor alarm began to go off. She rolled her eyes as she took a sip of water.
"Sorry," Barb chimed as she walked over and silenced the machine.
"It's a little sensitive," Kate and Castle recited in unison.
The pair exchanged an amused glance as Barb chuckled softly as she returned to her corner of the room.
Kate took another sip of water then handed the bottle back to Castle.
"You have questions for me?" she asked as she returned her focus to the boys.
"Right. Yes, uh-" Ryan flipped open his notebook and pulled the pen from his breast pocket. "Well, you know how this goes. Just… just tell us what you remember."
Kate inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. "Not a lot, sorry. I, uh… I remember…"
She closed her eyes and tried to visualise the scene: the clear blue sky and gentle spring breeze; the crowd of mourners that tried to stifle their cries; the angelic sounds of the choir singing.
Her hands balled into fists as she remembered her nervous grip of the podium as she spoke.
"The eulogy," she said as she opened her eyes. "I remember speaking. And then..."
She swallowed the dry lump that had formed in her throat. Her mouth felt bone-dry, her tongue like sandpaper as it darted out to wet her lips, unsuccessfully.
"And then I turned around, I shouldn't have." She swallowed audibly. "The only thing I remember is Castle."
Castle picked up the bottle of water by her bed and held it out for her to sip from the straw.
She held her hand out and shook her head, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Drink," he ordered; gentle, but firm. Anyone else and she probably would have put up more of a fight.
"Do you remember seeing anyone hanging around? Anyone that you didn't recognise?" Ryan asked her.
"I mean, plenty of people," she answered with a shrug. "I don't know everyone that Montgomery encountered during his life."
"Anyone that seemed out of place," Esposito reworded. "Did you notice anyone that seemed upset, agitated or nervous?"
Castle's brow furrowed and he looked toward the boys. "It was a funeral, everyone was upset."
Esposito shot Castle an exasperated look. "More upset than you would expect, maybe?" he asked pointedly.
"How do you measure someone's grief at a time like that?" Castle argued. "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am but you seem too sad, are you planning on shooting someone?"
Kate placed her hand on Castle's forearm. "Castle-"
"Castle, you know that's not what he meant," Ryan defended.
"You know this process, bro," Esposito fired back at Castle. "You've been here, done this a hundred times before."
"Ask the stupid questions, the questions that seem pointless. Go over the story again and again. Eventually some new detail is uncovered," Ryan reminded him. "That's what we need right now: some detail that gives us... something!"
Kate sat, stuck in her silence, as the bickering voices faded into nothingness, replaced by the thud of her rapidly beating heart and the whoosh of blood rushing through her ears. She recognised this: the feeling of disconnect from reality, the out of body sensation from that day in the park when she was waiting for her father.
Her tongue darted out of her mouth. It felt like sandpaper as it dragged slowly against her lips, ineffective in its quest to moisten them.
Kate placed her hand over her chest. She felt the uneven rise and fall as each breath she took felt futile.
The incessant beep, beep, beep that had provided mind-numbing background noise grew faster and faster, louder and louder as it fought its way through the cacophony of noise that overwhelmed her.
Her head spun. It was both weightless and somehow too heavy as the beat of her heart climbed to her throat: constricting and nauseating.
"Castle," she gasped as she tightened her grasp on his forearm, fingernails pressed to his skin in a way that would undoubtedly leave crescent-shaped markings.
All other noise was suddenly drowned out by the blaring of the monitor's alarm.
"I'm sorry, detectives, but you need to leave," Barb stated firmly.
Kate closed her eyes and focused on slowing each breath.
She had managed to pull herself from her panic that day in the park, she was sure that she could do it again.
Kate had hit a wall: the absolute limit of what she could deal with right now. The physical setbacks had been discouraging, of course. But with Castle's constant sprinkling of cheer and enthusiasm, and his insistence that she is, was and always will be a total badass, she found a way to push through the torturous onslaught of tests, exercises and therapies.
But as she tried to regain her physical strength, her mind grew weary. Exhaustion was her kryptonite: it made it impossible to keep pretending.
She had never felt so hopeless. Her body wasn't her own (not the one she was used to, anyway) and her mind was a dangerous jungle she couldn't quite navigate.
"Your mental and emotional recovery is just as important as your physical recovery," Dr Khan urged. "You've been through quite the ordeal, Kate. Anxiety and depression is common."
Her eyes rolled of their own accord. She had been humiliated by her breakdown that morning, by the complete lack of control she had right now even hours later.
A panic attack, brought on by the boys - her boys - bickering in a way that was not at all unusual for them.
And now she was being lectured by someone who was practically a stranger about the importance of prioritising her mental health. She couldn't breathe unassisted, couldn't take herself to the bathroom or shower herself. She was completely dependent on others to complete even simple tasks. Surely, fixing that was of higher importance.
Judging by the looks of unadulterated agreement on her father's and boyfriend's faces, however, apparently it wasn't.
"It is to be expected, even." Dr Khan continued his spiel, but he wasn't saying anything she didn't already know. "You have a lot to process: the incident, the severity of these past few days and the long journey you have ahead of you."
"It's okay to be overwhelmed by it all," Jim added.
She looked at her father, trying hard not to shoot an angry glare his way but couldn't quite hide her displeasure.
"Add first trimester pregnancy hormones to the mix and you're bound to feel..." Dr Khan trailed off as he tried to find the right words.
"Like the world is spinning just a little bit too fast?" she suggested.
Dr Khan sighed. "Yeah. Just like that."
"Well…" Kate looked down at her hands and picked at her fingernail anxiously. "That's good to know, I guess."
"We can organise for a psychologist to visit-"
"No," she interrupted, shaking her head.
"Kate..."
She rolled her head in Castle's direction, her eyes warning him that this wasn't up for debate.
"It might help," he urged.
She sighed. "I, uh… I started seeing a psych recently. I'd rather talk to him, if I could."
"Of course," Dr Khan said with a smile. "If you're happy to share his details we can see if he is available to come here."
"Okay, yeah. Uh, Doctor Burke. I have his number in my phone. I…" She looked to Castle when she realised she didn't actually know where her phone was.
Castle shook his head. "I don't have it, sorry."
"Oh!" They heard from the corner of the room.
Barb reached into the drawer underneath the nurse's station and pulled out a patient property bag.
"Here you go," she said as she passed the bag to Kate. "This should contain any personal belongings that were removed when you were brought in."
"Thank you." Kate smiled and accepted the bag from the nurse.
She fumbled slightly as she pulled at the seal but managed to open the bag easily enough. She tipped the contents onto the bed. Heavier items fell first: her phone, her father's wrist watch, her uniform pins and her mother's ring followed by a single white cotton glove speckled by a deep crimson stains.
Her breath caught in her throat and her chest felt like it was on fire.
Kate?
Beckett's down!
Stay with me, Kate.
She closed her eyes and forced the memories away.
"Kate?" Castle asked. His hand on her shoulder anchored her to reality.
"I need a minute," she whispered between slow, measured breaths.
Castle rubbed his hand down her arm, smoothing the creases in her hospital gown. "Take your time."
He reached across her lap and picked up her phone.
"Do you mind?" he asked her.
She opened her eyes then shook her head. With her consent, Castle attempted to access her phone.
"Battery's flat," he grumbled.
He pulled his own phone from his pocket and opened the internet browser.
"Doctor Burke, PhD. New York City."
He spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable as he typed them into the search bar.
"Here it is," he said once he found what he was after.
He read the number aloud and Dr Khan jotted it down in his binder.
"Thank you, I'll go get this sorted now." Dr Khan turned to Barb. "Page me when she is ready for transfer."
"Of course," she replied with a smile.
Castle slipped Kate's phone into his pocket then grabbed the property bag from where it had been discarded on the bed and began to pack away her personal items.
"I'm sorry," Kate uttered as she watched him tuck the soiled glove into the bag. "I... I don't know what happened."
Castle placed the bag onto the armchair behind him - out of sight, out of mind - and moved back to Kate's side.
"It's okay," he assured her as he tucked her hair behind her ear.
"I hate this."
"I know."
A heavy silence settled over the room for a long moment. He could see it in her eyes - in the way they carefully avoided his: negativity was clouding the bigger picture. She was focussing so hard on the smaller setbacks, on the things that she was struggling to control, that it was clouding her vision, obscuring the end goal and making it seem further than it really was.
"You're not weak, Kate," Castle reminded her.
She scoffed. "Walking from one side of the room to the other exhausted me," she stated, contradicting him.
"You're alive."
"I'm completely dependant on everyone around me."
She wanted a pity party, but he wasn't going to throw her one.
"You should not have survived," he stated bluntly, as emotionlessly as he could manage.
But she heard the slight break in his voice, saw the crack in his mask.
"But you did," he continued. "You fought to be here."
She hung her head and cradled the barely-there bump in her abdomen; a silent acknowledgement of the words she didn't have to say.
She had something worth fighting for.
He slipped his hand over hers and intertwined their fingers.
"What if something is wrong?" she asked, hesitant.
"They've been monitoring closely and, so far, there's been no indication that anything is wrong," he assured her.
She turned her head to him and looked up into his bright, blue eyes.
"That doesn't guarantee that the baby is healthy." She whispered the reminder.
He leaned closer, cupping her face with his free hand. His thumb glided across her cheek as he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
She closed her eyes, too, and basked in the closeness, the comfort.
Each second that passed seemed to build her back up, fill her with life, with hope.
"That's never guaranteed, Kate," he whispered, the warmth of his breath lingering between them. "But whatever happens, we can deal with it. Together."
She felt him move; the firm press of his forehead replaced by the gentle brush of his lips against her hairline.
When he pulled back she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. They weren't tears of sadness, or even tears of fear; they were of love, and trust, and optimism.
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and smiled. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
Kate's face was relaxed, peaceful, unmarred by the stress and the pain that she couldn't hide from while awake.
Sleep had come easily enough; once she stopped fighting it, that was. Her stubbornness, though a formidable opponent, simply could not contend with her exhaustion.
He brushed her hair from her face, his touch faint and barely-there, as he looked at her with nothing but adoration.
"Good evening, Dr Davidson," Barb greeted, announcing the man's presence.
Castle looked away from Kate and saw Josh lingering awkwardly by the entrance.
"Hi. Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice hushed as to not wake Kate.
Josh stepped into the room warily. "Yeah, uh-"
His eyes drifted to Kate and soaked in the sight of her improvement: fewer wires and leads; brushed hair; and a subtle pink colouring in her cheeks from the warmth of the room. The doctor smiled, but quickly schooled his expression.
"How is she?" he asked as he turned his attention back to Castle.
"She's getting there," he answered truthfully. "Frustrated by what she thinks is a lack of progress."
Josh chuckled. "Sounds like her."
Castle watched and waited patiently for Josh to get to the reason for his visit.
"The DNA has been processed," he informed Castle. "Results will be sent out soon. I just thought I'd keep you in the loop."
"I appreciate that." Castle looked at Kate, letting her peacefulness calm his nerves before turning back to Josh. "How soon?"
"Tomorrow, maybe the day after," Josh said as he shrugged. "Why?"
"I haven't told her yet," Castle confessed. "She's had a lot going on and she hadn't mentioned it-"
"I thought you said this was what she wanted," Josh interrupted.
"It was. It is," Castle reassured him. "She's just… she's still processing everything."
"Look, I get that and I respect that you don't want to push her too far but-" Josh stopped and took a breath. "I need to know."
Castle understood, he really did. While the paternity results didn't necessarily change anything for him, they changed everything for Josh. So, yes, he could definitely understand the man's sense of urgency.
But even though the results didn't change how he felt about Kate, didn't change what he wanted for their future, he could still see the benefit in knowing sooner rather than later.
"I put the request through privately and in Kate's name," Josh continued. "As the referring doctor I'll receive notification once the report is sent to her, but I don't have access to the results. I... I won't push this if she's not ready for it but if you could at least try to encourage-"
"Of course," Castle assured him. "I'll talk to her. As soon as she knows, you'll know."
"Thank you."
May 28, 2011 (10w3d)
Castle rose with the sun...
That is, if the sun were a harsh fluorescent tube light and rose meant to jolt awake to the dreaded sound of Kate's monitor alarm.
"If that thing was a person, I think I might actually strangle it," he grumbled as he got to his feet and stretched his back.
Kate giggled and the sound eradicated any actual feelings of resentment he held toward the medical equipment.
"You're chipper this morning," he commented with a smile.
"I'm being transferred out of here," she explained as she watched Barb alter the settings of her monitor.
"We still have a few ends to tie up here," Barb reminded her. She turned to Castle and smiled. "But she should be in her own room within the hour."
"Perfect," Castle cheered.
Kate turned her focus away from Barb, her steely gaze fixed to Castle.
"Apparently the ward is full so I am being placed in a private room," she said with a hint of doubt in her tone.
Castle shrugged. "Talk about luck!"
"I don't need a private room, Castle," she insisted.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.
His eyes flickered to Barb who had pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling, then back to Kate.
"Don't worry about it," he reassured, conceding that she obviously knew he had arranged the room.
He knew that she wouldn't have minded having to share a room, but he couldn't help himself. Not only did a private room offer them more, well... privacy, but it gave him peace of mind knowing that there wouldn't be strangers in such close proximity to her. He had a feeling that vetting other patients' visitors as they come and go throughout the day could be classed as a freedom violation, so why not bypass that situation altogether? It's not that he didn't trust the uniforms that were stationed in the hallway, but given how all this started he would rather be safe than sorry.
He looked at the tray of food that sat on the overbed table, practically untouched: toast, scrambled eggs and an apple that had one small bite taken out of it.
"You didn't eat much breakfast," he commented and frowned.
"Not really hungry." She pulled the table closer and poked at the egg with her fork before pushing it away again. "And it's not all that appealing."
Her lack of appetite, despite being expected and perfectly reasonable, concerned him.
She crossed her arms over her torso and gave him a weak smile.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Castle."
"A nurse is bringing a nutrition pack," Barb informed him. "The nasal cannula will be kept in while she's weaned off most of her medications, just to be safe."
He sighed. "Will the weaning knock her around a bit?"
"There is always risk of withdrawal," Barb admitted. "That is why we do it gradually."
"They've already gone over everything with me, Castle. Tired, achy, nauseous: nothing I can't handle and that's only if I react, I might not feel any difference."
Castle's phone chimed and he pulled it from his pocket.
"Everything okay?" Kate asked as he stared at the small screen in his hands.
"Uh, yeah," he said distracted as he typed. He stopped and focussed on her. "Just Lanie checking in. She's asked me to let her know when you're feeling well enough for a visitor."
Kate smiled. "I'd like to see Lanie. I just, I'm so tired."
"That's fine, there's no rush. Just let me know when you're feeling up to it."
"Maybe tomorrow?" she suggested.
He leant forward, cupped her face and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't rush, everyone understands."
"Morning," Jim greeted as he entered the room, two coffees in hand.
Castle straightened up and took a step backward as he suddenly flashed back to the fifth grade when he got busted trying to kiss Becca Johnson.
Jim barely tried to contain his smirk as he passed one of the coffees to Castle.
"How are you feeling this morning, Katie?" he asked as he took his seat by the foot of her bed.
"Hmm, like I could really use one of those," she joked as she nodded to the coffee in her father's hands.
Jim chuckled. "Well, the second you can actually stomach it, I'll get you all the coffee you could ever dream of," he promised.
"Deal," she said, then turned to Castle. "You might be out of a job for a while, sorry."
"Oh, that's all I'm good for? Bringing you coffee?"
"Most days." She smirked.
"Rude." He scoffed at her theatrically as he backed himself against the wall. "I'm just going to stand here and drink this delicious coffee that I am allowed to have."
He brought the cup to his lips, took a long sip and swallowed loudly.
"Ahh, so good," he teased. "How's your water, Beckett?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, but the smile never left her face. "Just wait until I'm not hooked up to these machines anymore," she threatened.
Jim chuckled at their playfulness; his seemingly light mood caught Kate's attention.
"How was your night?" she asked, hoping his answer would be helpful in easing the guilt for his banishment yesterday.
"It was nice," he said, his gaze fixed on the cup in his hands. "Quiet."
"Is your friend still in town?" Castle asked before blowing on his coffee, too distracted by the swirl of steam in the air to notice both Becketts staring at him.
"Friend?" Kate asked as she turned her attention back to her father.
Jim peeled his eyes from Castle and set them on his daughter. He smiled at the curiosity in her eyes, relishing in the fact that she hadn't yet been burdened by her usual sense of responsibility for his wellbeing. For the first time in years it seemed that she had faith in him, in his strength and will power. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin that for her; but he wasn't about to start lying to her now.
"Do you remember Ed Astor?"
Jim's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as Kate's smile faded and the curiosity in her eyes was replaced so quickly with concern.
"Dad-"
"I'm fine, Katie," he reassured with a smile.
"Don't just humour me," she warned. "If you're not coping-"
"I promise you, I am fine." He rose from his seat, stepped up to her side and placed his hand over hers. "I called him while you were in surgery. I sat for hours just staring at the wall. I needed... something. Ed talked me through a low point but his being here in the city is as a friend, not as my sponsor. I've stayed in control this time, I promise you that."
He felt her hand move from under his and for a brief moment he thought she was pulling away, that maybe she couldn't allow herself to believe him after past experiences. But she wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed gently, smiling softly.
"I'm glad you reached out to him," she said.
She kept her voice void of too much emotion, but he could tell this revelation had left a heaviness in her that wasn't there just moments ago.
"I won't go back to that place, Katie. I don't ever want to put you through that again."
She nodded slowly. "I believe you."
Castle walked back and forth by the end of the bed, making the most of the spacious room she had been moved to.
Quiet, light and airy, a private bathroom and a large floor-to-wall window that looked out onto the city: as far as hospital rooms went, this one was pretty nice.
A knock on the door drew his attention. The door opened slowly and a short, older lady in a maroon polo shirt with a white apron and her hair tucked into a hairnet carried a tray of food and placed it on the overbed table.
"Katherine Beckett?" she asked, reading from the piece of paper she held.
"Yes," Castle confirmed.
"Date of birth?"
"November 17, 1979."
"Bon appétit."
"Thank you," Castle said, smiling, as she left.
His phone began to ring and he pulled it from his pocket to silence it before he accidentally woke Kate. He looked at the screen: private number.
He tapped the green phone icon to answer the call.
"Hello?" he said, hushed.
"Mr. Castle." A voice he did not recognise greeted him from the other end of the line.
"Yeah."
"I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery," the mystery man said. "I'm calling about Detective Beckett."
Castle looked over to Kate as she napped soundly.
Something about this didn't feel right, didn't feel safe.
"We need to talk."
Roy had turned out to be a part of the conspiracy; how was he to know that this friend wasn't a part of it, too?
How was he to know that this friend wasn't the man who had tried to kill Kate?
He watched as her brow furrowed, the rapid twitching a sure sign of the beginnings of a bad dream. He wished he could protect her from the memories, from the fear and uncertainty that seeped into her dreamland; slow and poisonous.
He would do anything he could to protect her.
"I'm listening."
