A/N: I posted up the last two chapters, so make sure to read chapter 4, too!
I never intended to write a post-finale fic, but this chapter kind of ended up as one. Hopefully it's different than most of the ones out there. Thanks for reading!

It's June and Beckett had been in the hospital for 2 weeks after the shooting. She'd awoken to find that she'd had a successful surgery, that her insides hadn't gotten as damaged by the bullet as they could have been, and that she'd been asleep for 5 days. Once she was awake, it had taken a few days for it all to really sink in- the gravity of what had happened. She'd been so happy to have Castle and her dad by her side when she'd woken up and for every moment they could possibly be with her for the rest of her stay in the hospital.

Castle insists on coming home with her the day she's discharged from the hospital. He says he wants to make things in her apartment easily accessible, as she isn't supposed to be stretching too much or lifting things. Her counters in her kitchen and bathroom end up being covered in things from her highest and lowest shelves and cabinets. It looks messy and cluttered, but she's grateful for his thoughtfulness, and knows it won't be this way forever. He knows she wants to prove her relative independence and that
she doesn't want him constantly hovering, so when he is completely sure she can't hurt herself further by doing anything she might need to do that night, he leaves her alone for the evening, telling her to call him if she needs anything, emphasizing the word "anything." She smiles at him, and sees him out.

He stops by every day after that to see her. He wants to make sure she is doing okay, that she isn't over-exerting herself. He wants to keep her company and be there any way he can. She sometimes feels like he is being a little overprotective, but really, she's grateful for it. She's come to realize in this whole ordeal that letting someone help you when you really need it doesn't make you weak. She appreciates what he's doing for her, but she also appreciates what he isn't doing for her. He seems to realize when he's doing
too much, that there are certain things she needs to do for herself. So he stands back and lets her do them, all the while being on the alert for her needing his help.

She still doesn't like to ask for help, but he always seems to know when she really needs it and is willing to accept it without her having to ask.

After she had gotten shot and was lying on the ground in his arms, the tears that ran down the sides of her face weren't just a result of her pain and fear. They were also a result of her realization that she'd made everything so complicated, had been so afraid of her heart getting broken that she was losing
what she could have had with Castle. She finally saw that what she could have in her life was much more than risking it all to find her mother's murderer. Finding her mother's killer wasn't something she was going to give up on completely, but in those few seconds when she thought she was dying, she'd seen
that she had more to live for than she'd realized. She'd always thought her feelings for him, and his feelings for her would always be there, so she'd shoved them in the background until she would be "ready". But what did that really mean? She realizes now that you can never be "ready" for love.

Everything in Royce's letter regarding Castle and herself had become real in those few moments before she'd lost consciousness. Behind the searing pain was a screaming "IF ONLY" and the regrets had been too much to bear.

She remembers what Castle had told her as he'd held her in the grass. He'd told her that he loved her, and she's been struggling with how to confront that ever since she'd woken up in the hospital, but what she had learned was that what they have and could have shouldn't wait any longer. So she lets him help her, lets him take care of her while she heals. It would be too easy to push him away and prove her independence, but there were so many things her brush with death clarified for her, and one of them is that there's no point in pushing away the ones you love just to prove a selfish point.

She enjoys his company- the times he brings over movies for them to watch together, or makes her dinner and plays board games with her, the times they stay up almost all night talking until he helps her into bed and leaves her with a kiss on the forehead and a soft "Until tomorrow."

He helps her get up and around a little more each day. A walk to the end of the hallway of her floor and back for the first couple of days. Then eventually a walk to the end of the block and back, and then when
she is able to stand and walk for more than fifteen minutes at a time, he wants to take her to Central Park. He'd told her she's been missing out on the blossoming of Spring, and it's gotten so beautiful and lush and green in the park that he really wants her to see it, to smell it, and breathe in the fresh
air.

So they drive over to the park one day, parking on the side of the road. He helps her out of the car and they walk on a walking trail through the park. She's so happy to be outside where there are clumps of tall trees, and grass, and flowers.

She's quiet for a while as she takes it all in. She eventually wraps her arm around his at his side, and he stops walking. "You ok? Do you need to sit?" he asks in concern.

She smiles almost shyly. "No, I'm fine." She smiles again, shrugs, and tugs at his arm a little so they continue walking. Eventually, she slides her hand down the inside of his arm and weaves her fingers with his. He squeezes her hand, and then pulls her towards him in a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. They stand off the side of the path like that, his arms around her shoulders, her arms around his middle and angled up his back, and her face in the crook of his neck. After a few moments of silently holding each other, she pulls back a little to look at him. His hands slide down to hold onto her upper arms.

"I remember what you said to me- after I got shot." She sees him cringe slightly at the mention of the shooting, but he recovers quickly.

"I meant it," he says, pushing a lock of her hair back behind her shoulder and smiling at her.

"I know." she smiles up at him, reaching her hands up to his face, ghosting her fingers over his cheeks, touching his chin with her thumb and then running it lightly over his bottom lip before kissing him. It's unhurried and tender and passionate. They're wrapped up in each other, off to the side of the walking
trail lost in each other, unaware of how many people pass them by averting their eyes from the intimate scene they create.

She pulls back slowly and leans her forehead against his. "I love you too. Always." She didn't expect the catch she hears in her own voice, or the happy tears that are suddenly sitting on her lower eyelids, blurring her vision. When she looks up at him to give him a teary smile, her tears spill over and he kisses a path down each of her cheeks, tracing the tracks of her tears. They embrace once more, swaying back and forth slightly, so content to just be with each other, floating on their feelings of finally and always.