He feels weak... paralyzed.

The only thing keeping him moving is the energy shot through the air, the yelling and shouts he's drowning out. "Kate," His weak, shaking voice tries.

She wanted him out. She told him they were over. And now she's leaving him, trembling on the ground. Her head uncontrollably shakes and nods in his palm as he lifts it off the ground, her shoulders shivering under her uniform. The first instance of blood he spots is on her white dress gloves... a sight he will never forget as long as he tries. Her eyes, scared and wanting to speak, say so much.

"Stay with me," he pleads, the snake in his system coiling around his throat and heart, emptying his lungs. "Stay with me, okay?"

He just wants her to stay. Just be here, stay here with him. Don't leave. She may want him out but he's not ready to let her leave yet. He wants to stay with her. In the distance, he can hear chairs being knocked over, the women screaming and the men shouting at them to stay down, but the only thing his ears can register now is the sound of her trying to breathe. "Kate..."

She's dying.

"I love you." The shaking doesn't stop, her breath hitches, a painful sigh inward as her eyes darken. "I love you, Kate."

His eyes snap open at the sound of an incessant, annoying, ring in his right ear. They feel heavy.

Everything's felt heavy lately.

He looks around for a moment and finds himself at the precinct, where he's been for the past three weeks straight. This isn't the first night he's spent at Ryan's desk. He doesn't want to feel whatever feelings even sitting at her desk would assault him with. He has enough to deal with trying to stay stoic through all this as it is. Every lead has lead nowhere, every idea has fizzled out, every clue has been no help at all, and without her, he's the one that's supposed to have all the answers now. He's not the one that's supposed to be in charge. A failure for him is a failure for everyone here.

And he's failing... at everything.

When his phone rings again, the vibration making it slide to the edge of Ryan's desk near a picture of him and Jenny, almost falling off the edge, he scrubs his scratchy face with his palm and pushes his hair back, grabbing for his phone. "Castle."

"Rick, it's Jim."

"Jim?" He asks, not recognizing the name or the voice. He flicks away the crust from his left eye with his finger during the short pause on the other end of the line.

"Jim Beckett?" The man says with a lifting tone.

Within a single moment, Rick is awake and is sitting up straight in his chair. "Is there word?"

"She's awake, son."

His weak legs try to stand, feeling just as weak as they did that hot afternoon. That day, that horrific afternoon, has been a recurring nightmare. He isn't even sure to call it a nightmare. Is it a nightmare if you've actually lived it?

But he tries nonetheless and leans forward on Ryan's desk. "Is-is she... I-I mean, h-how is sh..."

"She woke up about ten minutes ago, Rick." Jim says after his words fail him. If he can't even talk straight, how is he ever going to do anything straight when he actually sees her. "She's with the doctor now. I figured you'd know better than I do how to get in touch with all her friends."

"U-uh Yeah, I'll uh..." he struggles to form a single sentence over that same serpent infesting his heart. "I'll let everyone know."

Jim thanks him and hangs up quickly and Rick's bloodless hand ends the call and slides his phone into the pocket of his wrinkled jeans. He feels it too selfish to think the things that are starting to float through the back of his mind, the same stupid fantasies and delusions of romantic grandeur that he's been able to spoil himself with. He knew it was a deep hole he was digging himself when he started three weeks ago, thinking of all the things that might happen when she wakes up.

If not for the dreams, he'd force himself to forget about it, to pretend it never happened like he wishes with every spare moment he could make it come true.

What was supposed to happen? She wakes up and the first thing out of her mouth was his name, like he had fantasized? That she'd be calling for him when she was taken off sedation, just wanting his presence, his spirit, in the room, near her, to calm her and let her know that he's there for her? No... those fantasies are best relegated to the wish fulfillment that are his novels. That's where they'll stay. Not like that's up for any sort of debate, anyway.

But, despite the push and pull going between his lovesick heart and his guilt-ridden stomach, he leaves the quiet precinct after posting on the murder board 'she's awake' on a lime green sticky note slapped in the center.

If he were any sort of real man, the alpha that he boasts to be, he'd just rush down there in what he has on. But he cops out, out of cowardice he justifies, goes back to the loft and changes into clean attire of pressed slacks, a very dark blue, bordering on black dress shirt, and a sport coat. Why he's worried about appearance, now of all times, still baffles him, even as he's grabbing his wallet off his dresser and rushing out the door.

And forty-five long, but still too quick, minutes after, he's walking down the hall with a gift bag hanging nervously from his hand. He couldn't have just brought flowers like everybody else? She's going to be so annoyed with him. She's going to...

She's going to hate him.

His stride falters midstep, thinking about it. Standing in the hallway, distracted nurses and busy doctors buzzing around him, he stares at the two tall, imposing officers standing at her door. He hasn't seen her since she was wheeled away on that stretcher. He can try to justify it in his mind any way he wants to that his heart will accept as a valid reason, whether it be so unwilling to let up in his search for her shooter or to not be so selfish to spend time with her when she's in a coma and wouldn't even know he's there anyway. But he knows the truth. He always knows the truth.

Guilt.

But now, he has to face it. That's why he never came to see her before now. He still has a choice, but he wouldn't be able to live with not coming to see her now. Before, he could live, he'd just be worse off. There's no use telling himself to be strong, to be brave. If it hasn't helped him thus far, it won't now.

He takes an unsatisfying breath and goes to her door, standing between the two officers who tower over him. One last gulp past that evil serpent, and his sweaty palm grasps the knob and in one no-going-back-now motion, he pushes open the door and takes a step inside.

But his heart sends another violent stab of reality back through his system at what he sees and hears.

"Hahaha," they both seem to giggle with each other, Josh's arm hanging lazily over the side railing of her propped up hospital bed. He wants the willpower to turn around and walk out now, but couldn't wish for the conscience to live with it if he did. When will he be able to come to grips with the fact that there are people in her life that care about her more than he does? Who is he fooling besides himself?

The sound of the door opening seems slow to register to her, slowly turning away from her boyfriend and looking at him with her face devoid of any makeup and her skin looking pale, her eyes looking dark and tired, and her hair looking frizzy. But even with everything he's been dealing with, the denial and the guilt, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from her.

"Hey, Castle!" She calls to him in a weak voice, her hand still sitting idly in Josh's.

His lips turn into a smile before he can stop it and his smiling over at her, and can't stop it even as Josh's eyes bore into him, seemingly wanting him to vanish into dust. Rick notices quickly as Josh looks away, and he feels too weak and too ragged to try and assert his dominance over him. Josh is the one with the real place in her life anyway.

He's her partner, he tries to tell himself. They've been working together this long, just because there's nothing there romantically...

"I'll see you later, okay?" Josh says to her as he stands up from his chair beside her.

Kate smiles tiredly and lets her eyes drift shut briefly as Josh kisses her frizzy hair. Rick rips his eyes away and stares hard at the linoleum until he can hear Josh's footsteps coming toward him. Rick looks up only for a moment to see Josh eyeing him, the same glare he was met with when he entered staring back at him as he steps around him and out the door, shutting it behind him.

Something in his chest untightens, loosening its grip on his breath and letting his lungs relax for now as he looks back over to her.

There was a time, for the longest time the past few weeks, where he thought the last time he'd get to see her was in that ambulance, where the last time he'd get to see her eyes were dilated with fear as she looks up at him, where the last time he'd get to be around her and hear her voice was her throwing him out of her apartment the night before. But she's here now, she's alive, she's breathing, speaking, looking at him... staring at him.

"After this long, Castle," she begins as his still weak legs carry him over to the foot of her bed, "I'm kinda used to you staring at me, but... this feels weird."

"No, it's..." he starts and shakes his head, still unable to tear his eyes away from her, just drinking her in as much as he can to burn it into his hearts mind that she's still here. "I just never thought I'd see you again."

That earns him a small smile and a lift of her hand, the invasive IV snaking out of the top of her hand and down the bed as she brushes a stray strand of dried out hair behind her ear. "You know, Castle, most people brought flowers." She says, nodding toward his long-forgotten gift bag hanging from his hand.

"Oh, uh..." he starts and finally feels he got permission from her to approach and comes to where Josh had just been moments ago and hands her the large velvet gift bag, setting it as meekly as he can on her leg. "I know, but... flowers... you know, you get them, you say you're going to water them but you never do, they wilt and die and... you know, I figured the last thing you'd want is another reminder of... well, death."

The side of her lips pulling off to the side in a curious smirk, Kate reaches over and pulls at the top of the velvet gift bag and peaks inside. And when she sees it, her face seems to light up with a smile that makes him feel more alive than he ever remembers feeling. "Aww," she coos jokingly and pulls out the stuffed bear he bought her.

She takes the bear in her hand with a warm smile. The bear is a light, fuzzy brown, a plastic magnifying glass sewed into its right hand, a Sherlock Holmes Hat on its head, and a button on its left hand reading 'press me'.

"I was going to get a cop but you always seem to enjoy reminding me that I'm not actually a cop... so..."

Her thumb strokes the plush fur on the bear's side, while her hand reaches over to squeeze the bears right hand.

"How do I... wait, like, now? Check one, is it... hello?" Castle's voice says over a speaker in the bears plush stomach.

Kate looks over to him with a curious brow and clever grin, while Rick is leaning off to the side in the chair beside her, his elbow on one knee and his fingers tapping on his chin, tongue in cheek. "I accidentally recorded that in the store and I couldn't figure out how to record over it."

Kate cranes her neck and silently chuckles, letting the bear fall backward against her legs. "How poetic, Castle. I'm sure you're on your way to a Pulitzer."

Rick smiles, his heart warmed at the fact that he can feel it honestly. But in the silence that thickens between them, he can tell that the topic is veering onto them violently from the look in her eye.

"I heard you tried to save me."

With her wording, he looks away from her and leans forward. "Yeah, I..." he trails off, his lungs crusting over again as he quickly checks over what she said. "You heard?"

"Yeah, my dad told me what happened."

"Y-you..." he tries his hardest, "you don't remember me tackling you?"

She just shakes her head in a single motion, her eyes drifting away to the bear still in her lap.

This can't be real. She has to remember. "You don't remember..." me telling you I love you, he finishes in nowhere but his head, but swallows the words hard when he looks back up to her eyes, seeing them stare back at him with an arched brow, "...the gunshot?" He lets his cowardice guide him yet again.

But she's quick to shake her head and look away again. "No, I don't even remember the bullet hitting me. The only thing I remember is standing at the podium giving the speech and just... everything going black."

"So, you..." he tries and fails again, "you don't remember anything?"

"Yeah, the doctor said it might be my body's way of dealing with the trauma." She sighs painfully. She lifts the bear up and shrugs her arms with an eye roll. "I wish I did remember something. I might have seen something or heard something. What about you? Did you see anything?"

His mind is blank, but his heart is too heavy, wracked with emotions he can't all process at once. It's a long pause before he looks back up to her again, finally hearing her. "No, I just... I just remember seeing the glint in the distance and before I knew it I was tackling you, I... didn't see anything." Besides you die in my arms, he almost accusingly thinks to himself.

"Did anyone else see anything? I mean, there were dozens of people there. Someone must have seen something." She tries, not giving him a moments rest in her questioning.

"Beckett, seeing you get shot kinda... put a halt on everything else." He excuses.

"Well, did the shooter leave anything behind? Any footprints, DNA, shell casing? Anything?"

"He left behind the rifle, but the records on it came up a dead end and the DNA that CSU found on it wasn't in the database." He answers off the top of his head, not thinking what giving her the answer will do, what consequences he's leading himself into dealing with.

"What about the men that Montgomery shot in the hanger? Any way to trace them?"

"Beckett, can you just stop for a moment, please?" He asks in a tight voice.

But her answer is too quick, "Don't tell me to..." she lets the words fall as she shakes her head. "They killed my mother, Castle." She appeals to him, the bear in her hand long forgotten on the side of her bed. "They killed Montgomery and tried to kill me. I need in on this."

"Okay, but..." he tries, leans forward, and hesitates from reaching out to her and just putting his wrist down on the railing. "You're still recovering, okay? We'll get them, Kate." He tells her, catching her full gaze by the use of her first name. "I promise."

She blinks at him, her eyes softening after she takes a moments thought. "I guess you're right."

With a heavier heart than he walked in with, he stands with a most less honest smile than he offered at first and starts around the foot of her bed. "I'll let you rest then. I'm sure you're tired."

He sees her nod and take the bear in both hands, bringing it to her lap. "You wanna come by tomorrow? Go over what you have?"

His feet stop just a few feet away from the door and turn back to face her. He already dragged her to the gates of Hell. And now, she's refusing to leave despite getting burned. And all he's doing is keeping her there. "Why don't we wait until you're at least 50%, huh?" He says.

Her eyes drift away from him for a moment before she smiles heavily and nods. "You're probably right."

He smiles just as heavily as she did and goes for the door. And as he opens it and steps through, he can hear her press the button on the bear just as he's shutting the door. "How do I... wait-"

Once the door is closed, his hand hangs on the knob.

After all this time, all the pain she's been through... she wants to go back. There's no stopping her, is there? And it's him that got her here. If not for him poking and prodding where he didn't belong...

He's slow to start dragging his feet down the hall away from her room. Once he's a few steps away, his stride returns to normal and he's walking down the hall to his car. "Hey!" A familiar, but sickening, voice calls from behind. "Castle!"

Rick slows to a stop, his hands balling into fists and his inside lip stinging at his teeth gnashing on it. He doesn't turn around or look back, just waits until Josh is at his side and stepping in front of him. "What?" He warns in a harsh voice.

Josh stands in front of him, leaning forward with his shoulders. "I need to talk to you."

"Going off of the last time we talked, you really want to go down that road?" He says back, his eyes lidded and gaze coldly stoic.

Josh huffs a breath. "Look, I know what's going on between you and Kate, alright?"

"Then why don't you let me in on it, because I don't have a clue." He says back, his eyes still impatiently lidded.

"I want you to stay away from her." Josh demands with a finger almost jabbed into Rick's chest.

But Rick is in no mood to try and fight, and instead tries to appeal to what little moral ethics he has left. "That's not your decision to make, Josh."

"Did you hear her, in there?!" Josh seethes, getting closer to Rick's face. "She's been awake for two hours, and all she can think about is getting back to that case, chasing after her shooter!" Josh quietly argues at Rick's face. "I thought that her getting shot would at least bring her to her senses, but she's worse than she was before! And she's like that because of you!"

"Josh," Rick shakes his head, "I don't know what it is that you think Beckett and I have, but it isn't even what I think it is, because I am the last person that she listens to."

"You got her to look into her mother's murder in the first place." He argues.

"And you can rest assured that I will live with that guilt for the rest of my life, Josh."

"Look, if you care about Kate..." he says, narrowing his eyes, "then do what's best for her. Let her put this part of her life behind her where it belongs... and leave her alone." Even his well-trained whit can't perry that. He has nothing to come back with. "If you care about her at all, you'll let her move on with her life."

When Josh shakes his head again and steps around him, Rick speaks up, finally finding his voice and calling to Josh without turning around. "If you plan on asking her, Josh, don't do it while she's on the painkillers." He says and hears Josh stop. "Believe me, you won't be able to live with yourself if she gave you anything but an honest answer."

After a pause, thick with tension as he feels Josh's eyes bore into the back of his head, he hears him hasten down the hall.

He's not wrong. He wasn't before either.

And he's not wrong now.

Rick continues outside into the parking lot. His hands can only feel the shake and the tremble of her head, the quiver in her shoulders, and the fear in her eyes as she lay dying on the lawn of that cemetery... because he wedged himself into her life. Who knows what she'd be, where she'd have gone, if not for him tearing open old scars. She'll have new scars to deal with because of him now.

If the miracle that gave her another chance has any purpose other than that, it's to send him the same message he just got. He needs to stay away. Getting shot did nothing but want her to run at them even harder, and as long as he's around, she'll want to run as fast and hard as she can. It's time that he just admit that there's something about him that's bad for her.

And as Rick slows to a stop at his car, dragging his feet across the pavement to the driver side, his eyes burn with heartbreak and his gut churns with guilt.

He lost her.

And he never even got to have her.

Rick grimaces, grinds his teeth in rage at himself, and in a blind fury, balls his fist and sends it as hard as he can through the window with a grunt. And as the glass rains down onto the ground and the seat in small beads, his hand pumping with numbness, it's just a few seconds before it starts to hurt, and when he looks down and sees the blood running down his fingers and dripping onto the ground, he decides to live with it. To bear it.

It's only a fraction of the pain he caused her.

A/N: Mad at me yet? ;)