A/N: Last chapter, hope you enjoyed it.

Kevin Ryan is a little freaked out. He keeps steeling glances in the backseat of the cruiser. The way Castle has Beckett lying across his lap is disturbing, her head cradled in his arms, the writer is whispering incomprehensible things inches from her face. It reminds Ryan of that day. The one she almost didn't survive.

Castle wouldn't let them help him haul her to the car. He simply laid her across the back seat and crawled in, gathering her limp limbs, cradling her torso like a baby, while her legs stretch out across the seat. And then he waited for them to take him home.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxo

When she finally comes around, some twelve hours later, he's so relieved. He'd spent most of that time on the floor, by her bed. Kate Beckett's bed.

Lanie had assured him that she'd likely just sleep off the antipsychotics they gave her, might be a little dizzy, a little unsettled, "hell of a dose, though."

So, he'd camped out, called his family, called her dad, prepared to wait for her to come around. Familiar territory.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Castle?" she croaked, skimming a hand over the bedspread to touch his shoulder. Her eyes are bright despite her furrowed brow.

"Hey, Kate," he drops the cell phone he's been playing with and rises to lean over her, can't resist sweeping a hand over her forehead to push her hair back from her face.

"What happened?" She says , struggling to sit up, not allowing him the intimacy.

He sits back on the edge of the bed, resisting the compulsion to touch her, he doesn't quite know what to do with his hands. He settles on resting a hand on the other side of her legs, effectively bridging his body over hers.

"You don't remember?"

She blinks hard, squeezing her eyes. It's on the edge of her consciousness but she cannot access it.

"A hospital?"

He nods, "a prison hospital."

She brings a hand to the side of her head, as if pressing into her skull will somehow bring it back, "What the hell happened?"

"Do you remember the Harper case?"

"No," she looks up, alarmed, "should I?"

"Husband killed the wife, pretty open and shut? He paid them to get you out of the picture for his trial, you were supposed to testify on Monday."

"I don't remember, wait, I was . . . did you say I was in prison?" She's so confused, this all doesn't seem right.

"A prison hospital."

"What is wrong with me? What did I do?" Her voice is high as she looks away from him. She sounds alone, desperate.

"Kate," he moves a hand to her shoulder, "you didn't do anything, they took you to get you out of the way," he ducks his head to catch her eyes.

She alerts on her surroundings, "how did I get here? Why are you here?"

He's needs to calm her down.

"Kate, listen to me, you know me? You trust me?"

She stares at him a moment before slowly nodding her head.

"I think you just need to calm down, relax a little and this will come back to you, okay? I'll make you some tea, you'll be alright." He rubs his hands up and down her upper arms and then stands.

"Wait," she says, grabbing his arm, "don't . . . don't leave me."

He sits back down, and it's a good thing, because he doesn't think he could handle what Kate Beckett does next if he were standing.

It feels like a movie when she falls forward into his chest, her arms coming around his broad shoulders to pull him to her. He's so happy to wrap his arms around her, feel her solid presence with him. Wanting his comfort.

"I couldn't convince them," she whispers, huffing the words into his shoulder. He waits, knowing there will be more. "I remember, they didn't believe me, they wouldn't let me call you."

He takes advantage of the opportunity to stroke her hair, press his head into the side of hers, close his eyes.

"I tried, Castle, I tried to, but they said I killed. . .oh, my dad! Castle, they said I killed him." She tries to pull back, she's alarmed, but he doesn't let her go.

"I talked to your dad earlier, he's fine. It was a lie Kate. Nothing they told you was true."

Her relief is evident, but she tenses again when he tips his forehead to hers.

"I was scared for both of us," he exhales, "I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"You got me out Castle." She cups his cheeks and looks into his eyes, "you were there for me, you always are."

"Yeah, I am, Kate."

He searches her eyes a moment before he sees her flick her eyes to his lips, it's a moment and he can't let another one pass, he's already let them pass so very man times. He leans in to press his lips to hers and feels her response, the push of her jaw taking them deeper. Her tongue tipping to explore his mouth. The mattress creaks as she pulls him down to lie over her. Her fingers sliding into the softness of his hair as she hums a breathy little moan, enough to cause the muscles in his stomach to contract and his own feelings escape in primal utterances. In that moment they are both lost, their breathing labored, primal need pressing. Until they both can't breathe and they have to break.

He holds her tight, disbelieving his own eyes as she smiles up at him.

"I don't want to wait anymore, Castle. I was so trapped, I couldn't get out on my own. My whole life has been like that. I know you're tired, I'm finally tired too," she whispers.

He wants to laugh. Surely this is a cosmic joke, she's still high on the drugs they gave her. She's here and she's letting him lie on top of her? Is he imagining this? It must show on his face because she is moving her arm to stroke the space just below his bottom lip with her two fingers.

"Castle," so soft it's barely audible.

"I love you Kate. God, I've loved you for so long," he confesses collapsing over her, rolling them to face each other. "I don't know how to keep going without you. When I realized you were gone . . ."

"Shh," she runs her fingers over his lips to still him," I need you too."

She said it.

He blinks back his shock. Maybe he's gone crazy too?

Before he can recover she's moving, leaning forward to get closer to him.

"Castle, I knew you'd get me out. I was holding on for you. Whether I killed my dad or not, I knew you'd tell me the truth." She's moved her hand to his chest, covering his heart.

"Kate, I . . .," he stops and looks at her, "are you still drugged?"

She laughs.

"No, but maybe I really am crazy?" She leans in over him, tenderly kisses his forehead, the tip of his nose, the side of his mouth. Her touch is feather-light, and he can't contain himself. Kate Beckett is kissing him.

He decides he'd be crazy not to kiss her back.