Lumpy and unsubstantial. What he was laying on felt like it should have substance, but didn't. It was better than the cold tile of his kitchen, that was for sure. Wait. He was no longer laying on the tile of his kitchen. That was a good thing, right? He squeezed his eyes shut to recall the memory.
They had come home from the case. Morning. He loved her in the mornings. The way her skin just glowed in the sun. Rosy and fresh. Calm. A smile danced over his face at the mere thought of her. But this hadn't been a morning he had woken up to her. No, it had been drastically different. He could remember the cold. The sudden breath caught in his lungs. Something sharp ripping a chasm through his sternum. This morning hadn't been normal at all. But he couldn't remember why, just the sensations. When he couldn't remember something he normally pressed his palms into his forehead, so he tried for that.
"Ow!" Castle muttered, one hand being tugged back to his side by some kind of cord.
"Dad…." A tentative voice at his side, tinged with panic and exhaustion. He knew who it was without opening his eyes. She sounded tired, pained. He hated when Alexis sounded like this. Rick's eyes shot open as his instincts kicked in.
"Alexis?"
Why was everything so bright? Hospital room? Where was he? Why was he here? Still morning? His eyes darted around, quickly taking in his surroundings like a startled scared animal.
"Dad, you need to try not to move so much." Alexis' voice was tinged with concern, standing at the left side of his hospital bed.
He looked up at his daughter. So grown, mature, a face currently strained with worry. She was leaning forward, hands gently pushing down on his shoulders, pressing him into the bed.
"Wh…at? Why?" his eyebrows furrowed as he allowed his panic to subside slightly.
"You were shot." She was so subdued about it, like there was so much more to say, but she couldn't bring herself to say more.
No. Oh no.
"Beckett! Kate!" Rick shot upright, half bolted out of the bed. Tangling himself in the IV cord in his wrist, and the haphazard hospital gown draped over his front, he growled at his predicament. Something at the center of his chest pulled hard, catching his breath. With one hand gripped tight to the mattress and the other tangled back, he resigned to a half stand, half awkward lean. Alexis startled, taking a step back from the bed. While she had seen him passionate about many things in her life, this was new, different.
"Dad! Dad, you need to calm down." She put her hands out onto his shoulders, ready to steady him, discouraging him from moving much farther.
He harrumphed down into a fully seated position on the bed, shaking his head a bit, disoriented at the sudden change in position, painful pull of bandages and stitches in his center chest, and the pull of the IV at his arm.
"Shit" he muttered under his breath, releasing his left hand from its grip on the mattress, and bringing it to rub his palm over the gauze protecting the bullet wound on his sternum.
"Yeah Dad." Alexis took a seat on the hospital bed next to him, helping to detangle his IV as she debriefed him. "One shot to your sternum. Took a solid chunk out of it. Just damaged your left lung a bit. Doctor said it should heal well." She touched his shoulder to calm him, ground him to the facts.
He took a few deep but painfully shaky breaths, his eyes clenched shut. The memory of the morning came rushing back. They had come home from the case, ready for some much needed rest. He had started cooking, Caleb Brown stepping into the kitchen from behind the pillar. The shot had startled him, he remembered. Castle remembered the cold. All the time he had listened to Kate talk about being shot, she had never mentioned how cold it was. Everyone always assumed it was hot, but no, it was more a sharp spinning cold sensation. Like trying to send the end of a drill into your body, but faster. Much faster. And wet. Ugh, the wet sensation of blood running over his body, sticking to his clothes. Odd wet sensation inside of his body as well. Not a sensation that would leave him anytime soon.
"Kate?" he finally managed to whisper, choking back a sob.
"She's in surgery." Alexis softened, rubbing a hand soothingly down his right arm, "It's touchy though."
Rick squeezed his eyes shut. He had to be with her. They had been shot. She had been shot. Opening his eyes, he let the tears fall, focusing what little vision he had on his left hand. The last thing he remembered saying to Kate was that he loved cooking for her. Stupidly he had then thrown out some theory about the case, about Caleb Brown. Really? He was an author, a master of words. And his last words to his wife had been a theory about a crime. He had to do better than that. He had to be with her, and had to tell her more. Had to make sure his last words were actually about love.
He let Alexis guide his body back horizontal onto the bed. His left hand reached for the air, for his Kate. He remembered scooting along the cold kitchen floor until he saw her. Her stunning form slumped forward, crawling across the floor towards him. His only goal had been to hold her as she bled. Make sure she felt his love. Gripping at the sheets of his hospital bed, at anything he could use to be closer to her, his hand landed on something soft, the phantom sensation of her grip haunting him.
Alexis' phone dinged nearby, pulling him back to this painful reality.
"It's….It's about Kate."