Once again, I really cannot express how overwhelming the response to this very unplanned story has been. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really try to thank each person who reviews personally, but those of you who review as a guest or without an email account attached, I can't thank…but I appreciate all of your reviews and the fact you took the time to read this story!

I know you all have been waiting for this chapter, but I needed to rewatch "Knockout" and "Rise" again before I felt I could do this chapter justice, because I didn't want to mess something up. And I was close enough in my season 3 rewatch that I was almost there, so I didn't want to skip ahead (also, sorry…I did watch the LA episode a couple of times…it's one of my favorites, so it delayed me a little).

More than one person has expressed interest in seeing Castle's dad help Beckett find the shooter…and I'm going to sit the record straight here. He will not be a part of this story. I'm sorry to those of you who really wanted to see that interaction, but I'm not doing it here. His father was not a part of the show this early on, and I'd like to keep it that way here. Plus the shooting took place because of Beckett's mother's case; she was the target. There wouldn't have been a shooting if not for that, so I don't see a reason to bring him into the story.

Now that I've had my morning therapeutic cry…thank you Stana for that…I know you guys are all waiting for Castle and Beckett to see each other. I really hope it lives up to your expectations. So here we go…and I still don't own Castle…or the characters…unfortunately.

xxxxx

Beckett had been in a hurry to get to the hospital to see him, but now that she was there, walking through the doors that led to the ICU, her pace had slowed; she suddenly realized she didn't know what she was even going to say. She knew she would have to say something…staring was creepy. But what was she supposed to say to the man who saved her life, who had taken the bullet meant for her? She paused outside his door for one more moment before putting her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket, effectively tugging it tighter around her.

Stepping inside the room silently, she offered him a smile. "Hey," was the only word that she was able to get out right then. Seeing him alive, awake sent a small wave of relief through her. For the first time since the shooting she began to believe that maybe he really would be okay.

"Hey," he replied, still offering her a small smile despite his discomfort.

Martha looked between the two and noticed the tension. She stood then, nudging Alexis gently. "Come on, Alexis. Why don't we go home and get some real dinner and a hot shower?" she suggested to the girl.

"But I want to stay!" Alexis tried to protest.

"Nonsense. Your father is awake and doing well now. We both need to clean up, and I am not ashamed to say that my days of being able to sleep in contorted positions in chairs are far behind me," Martha replied.

"Grams is right, Alexis. Go home and rest up. I'll be fine, and you can come back tomorrow after school," Castle told his daughter, his voice sounding tired, weak, more hollow than his normal excited exuberance.

"Fine. But you better do what the doctors tell you," Alexis warned her father.

"Scout's honor," he offered his daughter the best smile he could muster.

Alexis simply rolled her eyes. "You were never a scout."

Beckett couldn't help but crack a smile at that, looking down at her feet as she remembered their first case together when he'd tried the same line on her, and she'd bought it. "Don't worry, Alexis. I'll make sure your dad follows doctor's orders," she offered the girl a smile.

Alexis seemed to accept that. She did know the detective cared about her father very much and was more than capable of keeping him in line.

"There, now you see? It's settled. Richard, I expect you to be a good patient. We'll come back and see you tomorrow," she told her son, giving his cheek a soft kiss. "Katherine, he's all yours. Good luck," she said simply, knowing her son was not the best patient.

"Night Dad," Alexis kissed her father's cheek as well. She started to go out of the room, but turned back to Beckett. "Call if he's not listening."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I won't have a problem," Beckett replied to the girl. Once the door had closed behind both redheads, she turned back to Castle and really studied him. He was pale, obviously in discomfort; the way his voice had sounded when he spoke was not like she was used to hearing from him at all. She couldn't help the fresh waves of guilt that washed over her. She had so many things to say to him…so many things that they needed to talk about…but she wasn't sure what to say to him; and it seemed like for once, he wasn't sure what to say to her either.

"How are you doing?" Beckett finally asked him softly. She figured that was a relatively safe topic.

Castle shrugged slightly, wincing at the motion. "The doctor said he still wants to monitor me for some things in the next 24 hours. But as long as I don't set off any alarms, they should move me down to a regular room tomorrow afternoon," he answered, studying her every bit as much as she'd been studying him, trying to gauge what she was feeling, what she was thinking. They'd had the huge fight where she'd said they were over, but then Montgomery had sacrificed himself for her, then with the funeral and the shooting, they hadn't had a chance to talk at all.

Nodding, she was silent again for a moment before taking a step closer to his beside. Her fingers wanted to take his hand, but her brain stopped them. "Thank you…for saving my life," she murmured softly, meeting his eyes for the first time since she'd entered the room and doing her best to mask her emotions from showing in her own.

"That's what partners do, right?" he replied. He did shift his hand to take hers then, the pain medicine he was on making him a little braver than normal. He figured she wouldn't pull away from the touch anyway; she had taken his hand before in moments of comfort.

"Is that what we are? Partners?" she softly repeated the words from their earlier argument. "Just try not to make a habit out of getting shot, ok?" she tried to joke…deflect and lighten the mood the way he effortlessly did so often, but it fell flat on her lips. Why was she so bad at this; why was this so hard? She was a very articulate woman, so why couldn't she just communicate how she was feeling?

He gently squeezed her hand, sensing she had more to say and hoping that if he waited her out a little, she might continue. He was slightly rewarded for his patience when she stuck out her foot and hooked it around the chair leg to scoot it closer to the bed so that she could sit next to him without having to release his hand. That was positive at least.

She looked at their joined hands for a moment, trying to find the words to say. "I'm really glad you're okay, Castle…" she started, pausing then and swallowing hard. She needed to get through this; she felt like after everything that had happened between them, everything that had been spoken…and unspoken… between them, she owed him at least this much. "I was so worried…if you hadn't made it…" she tried again, feeling a few tears stinging her eyes and she did her best to blink them away.

"Kate…" he interrupted her softly. "I'm okay. I'm right here."

She looked at him then, no longer able to hide the emotions in her eyes. "I watched you die in that ambulance, Rick. And for a minute, my heart stopped too," she admitted, her voice laced with emotion that she usually held back.

He wasn't sure what to make of her confession, and wondered for a moment if the medication floating through his system was making him read more into it than what she might really be trying to tell him.

"It was like that night my mother was murdered all over again, only worse…because that bullet was meant for me."

He realized then maybe it really was the medication after all, because what she was saying right now seemed to be coming more from a place of guilt than what he had hoped had been her feelings for him.

She got quiet then, bringing her free hand up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "Why the hell would you think you should take a bullet for me?"

He wasn't sure how to answer that question; well, he knew the answer, but he wasn't sure how receptive she'd be to it. "To be fair, I was only trying to save you, not actually take the bullet for you…" he tried to lighten the mood a little.

"I'm serious, Rick."

There she was using his first name again. "Because…" he started, swallowing hard then. "Because you're my partner. I'm supposed to have your back," he chickened out of telling her the real reason. This wasn't the place for that conversation. Besides, she had a boyfriend, he reminded himself. Not that he particularly cared about Josh or his feelings, but he knew she wasn't a cheater, and he wouldn't intentionally put her in that position.

She remained silent for a moment then, looking back to their hands. Apparently he was no more ready to jump than she was. Maybe that was a good thing; maybe they both needed to get through this whole situation before they could jump. She knew, though…both of them knew, really…that the feelings for each other were deeper than friendship at this point, or even partnership. But they weren't ready…certainly the hospital was not the place for the conversation. For now…for now, this would have to be enough.

"I hear I have Motorcycle Boy to thank for saving my life," he commented then, changing the subject. "Tell him thanks."

She stiffened slightly at the mention of Josh. "I did," she answered, unable to look at him for a moment. She really should tell him. "But Josh and I…we aren't…we broke up..." she trailed off. Why couldn't she just find the right words to say? Why was talking to him like this so hard?

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say; the fact that she was no longer with the doctor was surprising. She'd seemed to like him enough; the last time they'd really brought him up, she was ready to try to make their relationship work. And he was certainly around enough now…he saw the two together all the time, and it had hurt thinking they might be becoming more serious. "I'm sorry," he felt the need to say. He wasn't sorry that Josh was gone…but he was sorry if she was hurt by it.

She finally looked at him again. "Don't be," she said softly. "I wasn't being fair to him," she started. "I really, really liked him…but that wasn't enough anymore. Our relationship just wasn't what either of us wanted it to be…and someone told me I have a habit of staying in relationships with men I don't love," she added quietly, her words leaving a lot unspoken.

Her words surprised him; she'd actually listened, and acted based on what he'd said. Though part of him did wonder if they would be having this conversation had he not been shot. "Really? Sounds like a smart person…a genius, really," he smirked slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

His attempt to get her to smile succeeded; she couldn't hide the slight grin as she rolled her eyes. "A genius, huh?"

He nodded. "It's true."

Shaking her head, she let her fingers gently play with his. "Not a genius…just someone who really knows me," she gave him an almost shy smile then, letting her words hopefully heal some of what had been said in anger during their fight when she'd told him that he didn't know her. He did know her…better than anyone, she'd realized. She was just used to keeping everyone at arms length; the fact that someone got that close to her had made her panic.

He returned her smile. "Still…he sounds like a smart man. And brave…you're scary when you're angry," he joked.

She gave a soft laugh at that. "He is," she met his eyes. After a few moments of silently gazing in his eyes, she took a deep breath and released it slowly, finally looking away from him. "You should rest. I'm sure you're tired," she realized then.

"Yeah," he admitted, shifting slightly in his bed. "You should go home," he added. When she stood, he squeezed her hand. "I mean home as in your apartment. Not the precinct."

She stood still for a moment, no longer surprised that he knew exactly what she was most likely planning to do. "Castle, I need to see if the boys found anything."

"You can check that tomorrow." He knew she'd be working the case; it was connected to her mother. The shooter had been after her. He knew there was no way of getting her to back down now.

"Castle, I'm fine," she insisted, trying to reassure him.

"Kate…" he started, but stopped when she pulled her hand away from his.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Castle," she stated, and with one last smile in his direction, she left.

He sighed in frustration. She was the most maddening, infuriating, stubborn woman he had ever met.

xxxxx

"Tell me you found something," Beckett stated as she passed Esposito's desk on the way to hers. Tossing her jacket on the back of the chair, she perched on the edge of her desk, giving the murder board her full attention.

"How's Castle?" Ryan asked.

"Awake," she answered simply.

"Did you ask him if he remembers anything?" Esposito came to perch on the edge of Beckett's desk next to her in a stance usually adopted by Castle.

She shook her head. "No. He just woke up; I didn't want to ask for details yet. I'll go back tomorrow after he's had a chance to rest and process what happened."

"Yeah, well, something had to have tipped him off to tackle you the way he did," Esposito pointed out.

"Hopefully he saw something, but the way the shooter has been able to cover his tracks and just disappear, I'm not going to hold my breath," she leaned back slightly on her hands as she worked her way through the evidence once more. "There has to be something we're missing; someone had to have seen something. The shooter had to have left some kind of DNA behind…some lead for me to follow."

Esposito shook his head. "Not necessarily. If the guy is former special forces, he's going to know how to become a ghost. It's part of the training."

She knew he was right. She'd been a cop long enough to know that professional hits were the hardest to track down; as good as she was, even she couldn't run down a lead if there was nothing for her to run with. "Then we have to draw the ghost out of the shadows."

Ryan approached the two then. "How do you draw out someone who doesn't want to be found?"

"By giving him what he wants," she stated simply. When the two men exchanged questioning glances and looked back at her, she continued. "Me."

xxxxx

Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews. I love hearing all your feedback and comments. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!