A/N: Hey everyone, thank you for the feedback so far. I know some of you don't love Josh based on my last chapter. I get it, I don't like him either. THAT'S THE POINT! I'm channeling that hate into something cool, I promise ;)

As always, please let me know the good, the bad, and the ugly thoughts you have after this chapter. Much love,

Chapter 4

"Hey girl. You gave me such a scare." Lanie admonished Kate's still and fragile form. "I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you." That was a lie of course. Lanie had already forgiven Kate, simply because she had lived. A mere four days after being shot, she was showing remarkable improvement already. She was still in the ICU of course, still on the ventilator, still barely hanging on. But better.

Lanie had traded off vigil duty with Jim. He had been keeping watch at Kate's bedside since she had been shot and was asleep on his feet. Lanie had immediately instructed Javier to take him home, and make sure he actually went to bed. Both for Jim's sake, and to not see Javier so uncomfortable. Plus, Lanie had this. She needed to check in with her best friend, have a good, healthy chat. The nurses had mentioned that everyone should talk to Kate, that it would aid in her recovery. Lanie was used to talking to dead people - not that Kate was dead, she didn't want to think about that - but she did feel comfortable filling the silence. The even hiss of the ventilator and the steady rhythm of the EKG reminded her of the hums and hisses of the industrial morgue cooler. Lanie had a lot on the agenda, starting with filling Kate in on the circus she was missing.

"For you, the boys have been living at the precinct. They are trailing the rifle the sniper left behind, the witness reports of the shooter, any connections to you or your mom's case." Lanie, instead of gripping her usual wine glass when she and Kate spilled the tea, gripped Kate's cold and lifeless hand instead. Rearranging the IV cords just a bit to increase the range of motion, Lanie kept the grip, shaking Kate's hand to and fro through her animated conversation.

"You didn't just scare me, but you scared Javi and Kevin as well. They are trying to hide it, but…Kate… they aren't doing great. Javi, bless him, he's trying to be so strong. Last night, I walked in on him rubbing his eyes hard. Claimed one of the late night infomercials let him drop his guard. He didn't even know which one was on, Kate." He had been crying about you, Lanie thought, but didn't add. That was the truth. Kate's state was killing the guys. It could have easily been either of them. Their crew was already a ship without a directive - they had been burying the best captain they had had when his de facto replacement had been sniped. Morale was low, and every day that Kate remained incapacitated, it spiraled lower. Lanie didn't dare mention Castle, but she was concerned about him too. He had joined the guys at the precinct, but spent more time staring into space than helping. He was defeated, broken, unmoored.

"Oh I got to tell you this. Kevin, he's so cute when he's over tired. Jenny's been bringing him clean clothes everyday. Bless her, she's too good for this world. He had fallen asleep in his chair, half a coffee in hand. You know how he looks like a little leprechaun, his nose whistling. Anyways, Jenny had stopped in and somehow gently bumped his chair. He poured that coffee all down his front." Lanie couldn't contain her mirth as she told the story, punctuating every few words with her laughter. Lanie was so animated, she shook Kate's hand wildly about. What she didn't notice were the little pules and squeezes Kate's hand was doing to desperately hang on.

"Karpowsky bought him a bib!" As Lanie's laughter filled the room, Kate's lips twitched up slightly around the tube, her cheeks contracting as best they could through the pull of the tape. Lanie didn't notice. But Kate did. She had tried to laugh along.

Kate's world had been reduced to dark fog. Time didn't exist, her physical body absent from her perception, floating, everything vague and formless. Voices fluttered in, void of direction but heavy with emotion. She perceived her dad's voice as the strongest, checking in, asking how she was. She recognized snippets of her favorite stories. Had he started to read to her? She assumed time passed, but was unaware of how. Thoughts bounced around bringing forward sensations connected to her physical form, allowing parts of her body to materialize into her perception.

I feel the slight roughness of my dad's hands in my own. He rubs, grips, squeezes. I've been focusing more and more on his hands, letting them pull me toward the clearer edges of the fog. Shapes are beginning to blur into the edges of it. I don't know about the passage of time, but I have started to be able to define lighter and darker times of the day, I think.

Few things were certain. She knew she had been shot, and had remembered the burst of fire entering her chest. The burn was a slightly more comfortable sensation than the current spasming she was feeling. And she remembered the cold that followed, the feeling of warmth flowing liquid out of her body. She couldn't quite fight the cold, even now, feeling it in her chest, arms and hands as they materialized in the mist.

Castle's face looms, his pained expression and his silent lips lamenting. I've really hurt him. That is a certainty. Where is he now? I need his warmth. The only voice of his I can hear is the tortured, "I love you" echoing even when I don't see his face. It's never synched to his lips, just there, right out of reach, like a radio playing quietly in the other room. I'm glad when others' voices come to drown it out, let it stop torturing me, if only for a little while.

Josh, the nurses, even Jim have noticed small improvements in Kate. Twitches in her face, responses from stimulations of her hands and feet. The last time the nurses went to exchange one of the drainage tubes, they swore her body had flinched away from them. Progress.

As my body starts to materialize there is spiraling pain. In the worst of it, all I can feel are hands. On me. In me. Pushing, prodding, yanking. Castle's hands were large but smooth, confident. Pushing me down into the scratchy grass. Anchoring me by stroking my face through the chaos I can only assume was the ambulance. I haven't felt his hands since though. Where is he?

I feel like a vulnerable, exposed, gutted animal. So many unfamiliar hands are touching me. Inspecting, probing, running along the internal and external lines of burning pain that I can only assume are stitches. These hands are oddly slippery, a coating dulling the sensations. Josh's hands feel like that too. I barely feel his hands in my own though. I feel him the most inside of me, lifting and prying through the shattered remains of my rib cage. I never intended to let him behind my walls. Nevertheless, he wrenched his way in instead, ripping the top off the box and throwing it away. I can hear him telling me to wake up. He's making plans for our future, telling me how we will live past this. There's frustration in his voice. I assume he's frustrated that despite his trespassing, he can't get to what he's looking for. I don't know if I can let him through the remaining layers. I'm gutted. Exposed. There's so much more that needs protecting right now. Between spasms of pain, Castle's "I love you" beats a touch louder into my perception.

Lanie's hands are the most gentle, cracked and dried by the constant antiseptic. She's been gripping my hand tight and pulling it around as she relayed her story. This has been the most clear of my perception so far, the fog light, my physical body presenting itself in shimmers. She's talking so fast I can barely keep up, but there's something about Kevin and a bib. I remember laughing. Or trying to. A wave of powerful pain overtook me. Drowning, my lungs burning as my body spasmed hard. I can feel it arching against thin cloth, a plastic barrier, and tubes. Something is choking me. I can't breathe. I can't open my mouth. Help. I need help. I need to scream. One powerful shiver rocks everything. A release. My head falls back to greet whatever is supporting it. Within the space of a beat, the silent darkness settles back in, Castle's lament a faint whisper barely perceived. I hate this. I want out.

In the hospital bed, as Lanie laughed, Kate's lips had merely twitched around the tube, her slight unnoticed grip on Lanie's hand slipping limply away. The laughter was cut short by a sudden spike in Kate's heart rate and blood pressure, her muscles contracting in painful looking spasms. It looked like a seizure, but Lanie wasn't sure, being pushed back away from the bed quickly by the team of nurses. They pushed sedation and pain meds, holding Kate's body down until she stopped resisting. Lanie, backed into the corner of the room, suppressed a sob.

As hard as it was to watch, the nurses all assured Lanie afterwards that it was a good sign.

"How could that be a good sign?", her voice shook, as well as her hands.

"It was a sign of consciousness. Her body recognized the state it was in and reacted accordingly." The nurse's face was soft and tipped slightly to the left as she spoke. Lanie didn't bother to get her name. She wasn't fully convinced that what had occurred was a good thing, especially now that there was even less response from Kate, her body succumbing to the powerful cocktail of sedation.

"Will that happen again?"

"It might. Most patients come out a bit more slowly, but for some reason she came out too quickly. We will be controlling the sedation more closely now, trying to wean her back into perception again. So hopefully it won't happen again".

"Thank you," was all Lanie could muster, settling back into her chair next to Kate's bed. Suddenly Kevin's bib didn't seem so funny anymore.

"Hey Katie, it's me. Here to try to help you make it all better." Jim's voice held a hopeful sadness to its usual reassurance. Five days since her shooting and here they were again, still holding her hand and talking to her unconscious form. But today would hopefully be a much different day. Just yesterday Lanie had messaged the group chat about the incident that had occurred with Kate. Josh had piped in, reassuring everyone that her response was a bit unusual but normal for a body that had gone through that much trauma. It indicated she was ready. But they also had to slow down, release the grip of the sedation slowly. That was today's plan. See if she could open her eyes. Show them she was truly alive.

So Jim sat, drumming out a reluctant impatience against her wrist. The nurses came in every hour, pressing buttons on the IV manager and chatting with Josh, who sat on the other side of the bed. The room buzzed with a bated anticipation.

Kate's hands moved first, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm. Jim squeezed the ones closest to him excitedly, "Come on sweetheart. It's going to be okay."

The ventilator still hissed air into her lungs. When Jim protested that it might scare her, Josh had insisted. The damage to her lungs was just too great, they had to be sure her body could handle breathing before it was removed. That did not abate his fears, knowing how anxious she felt about being trapped, even for health reasons. He kept it to himself, but flinched at the idea of what panicking might do to her progress.

After the movement in her hands came her facial muscles, just an hour or so later, contracting uncomfortably around the tape. Josh joined in on the soothing conversations, leapfrogging into Jim's silences to relay yet again his plans for their future, telling her how beautiful and strong she was. This garnered a small smile around the tube, her cheeks finally gaining some color. She had to be close now. When her eyelids started to flutter, there was a brief standoff of which man - Jim or Josh - would lean in to be the first face she saw.

"Hey Katie-bear. It's me. It's going to be okay, honey. Just open your eyes. See the world and how amazing it is that you're alive. I'm here. And so is Josh. We're all waiting for you." While it was a whisper, it was right into her ear, his gaze mere inches from her face, his hands gripping hers between them. He had won the standoff, Josh having enough sense to back for the moment. Another flutter, just a sliver of light underneath the delicate lashes. Jim repeated his refrain, rubbing her cold hand between his to give it warmth through friction. Reminding him of the sticky nature of her eyelids when she was last plagued with pink-eye as a small child, he reached for a stray corner of the hospital gown, pulling it up to wipe her eyelids clean. Her eyelids and cheeks twitched at the same time, clearly tickled at the sudden movement.

Hazel eyes - dimmed by pain and sedation - greeted Jim as he smoothed the gown back down. "Hi there," the chuckle releasing a breath he realized he had been holding all week. "Welcome back Katie." Her eyes flicked to his face, focusing reluctantly. She blinked slowly a few times, realization growing every time those hazel beauties emerged back into the light. Jim could recognize the smile in them, but it was dampened by pain, maybe a tinge of exhaustion. Even after all these years, he could still read his daughter's emotions in her gaze.

Josh was standing now right at her side, his smile wide, eager to get in on the action. He was trying to talk Jim through the process, pontificating about how she might not be able to focus right away. How lots of movement wasn't good. What to look for that might indicate further trauma or damage. Jim was ignoring him, advertently or not, it was hard to tell.

Jim finally backed up a bit, "Josh is here too. He's right over here," he let go of her hand long enough to point, directing her field of view to her other side. She tried it first with her eyes only, but to see Josh properly required a slight head turn. Unfortunately, her gaze fell first on the blue tubing of the complicated apparatus that was allowing her to breathe. Confused, she had also shifted her head in the process, causing the apparatus inside of her larynx to shift too, a visible spasm of pain widening her eyes, providing the first moment of complete conscious panic. Her eyes met Josh's wide as saucers, panic taking over. Her hands started to shake uncontrollably.

"More! More! We need to back up!" Josh yelled out the door to the nurses station. They came rushing in just as Kate's entire body shuddered in another great spasm of pain. Gently pushing Jim out of the way, they restrained her and ramped the sedation back up. As they closed around her, her gaze tried to throw a pleading desperation in Josh's direction.

"Why did you do that?" Jim's biting anger toward Josh had returned as he turned to confront the man, only a few feet from the bed of his now unconscious daughter.

"Do what?" Josh's tone was just as biting, a haughtiness tinged with disappointment. He hadn't even had the chance to talk with her yet, and now it would be a while, again.

"Sedate her again." He really wanted a drink, a walk, anything to slow his own panic and anxiety from rising again. "I knew it was going to scare her." He turned to trap Josh against the wall. The nurses were busy monitoring her for any adverse reactions to the sudden flush of sedation, they didn't notice the temperature of the confrontation just a few feet away. "You steam rolled right over what I thought would be best."

"You don't know what's best for her. I do. I saved her life."

"As you like to remind everyone."

"Because it's true!"

"Damn it." Jim gritted out, barely audible.

"Excuse me Dr. Davidson, Mr. Beckett, sorry to interrupt, but she's stabilized now." Kyla piped in, a calm that was meant to model the coolness required in these situations, strategically placing herself in the ideal position to separate them if it came down to it.

Jim let out a very audibly frustrated sigh, hoping his glare directed to Josh said all he couldn't repeat out loud. He had never really liked the guy, but had kept his thoughts to himself, seeing how happy he made Kate. But Jim knew she didn't love him. She was now indebted to him though; Jim didn't like how that might change things. Coaching his features, he turned to Kyla, a few feet shorter than him, but clearly in charge of the situation. "Thank you."

"I know that Dr. Davidson objects," her gaze directed up to the surgeon temporarily, her demeanor providing a subtle submission to authority, "but based on how she's been responding so far, we have contacted Dr. Kovacs to supervise the removal of the tube. He's on his way now." She had directed this last part to Jim, reaching out a gloved hand to meet his forearm, anchoring this moment. Cooling with the kind gesture, he wasn't sure how the nurses managed this case so well. They had to juggle his fatherly lament, her improvements, and Dr. Davidson's cautiousness, all flawlessly. In response, he simply nodded back, almost enthusiastic at actual progress, as Josh let out a haughty reproach.

"I'll talk with him outside." Josh muttered, heading out of the room to park himself in the path of Dr. Kovacs. They would have a healthy debate about her situation, away from the emotional influence of her father.

In the meantime, Jim returned to Kate's side, a returned hope surging through his system as he gripped her hands again, "Did you hear that Katie? They're going to be able to remove that. You're going to be okay. You're mending, just as I knew you could. You've got this." His gaze left her body just long enough to watch the animated debate happening outside the glass walls of her room, between a boyfriend who thought he knew better and the doctor who had actually saved her life. After a tough week, Jim was hoping for any semblance of a win here.