A/N: Anything you recognize is not mine

The waiting room is quiet.

It's almost as though the hospital soundproofed it, as if keeping the terrified and eagerly waiting families of those on the brink of death away from the hustle and bustle and noise of the rest of the hospital will somehow ease their burden.

But being alone with the silence only eats at her.

She'd called Martha and Alexis the second the ambulance had gotten to the hospital and she'd been ushered into the waiting room. They'd panicked (Martha had sounded more than a little frustrated with her) and then assured her they'd be on the next flight to DC. That, however, still didn't leave for another hour and she was therefore going to be by herself for awhile longer with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company.

McCord had stopped in about an hour ago, letting her know that the best doctors in the country were currently taking care of Castle before rushing back to headquarters to help tie up all loose ends of the investigation. She'd said that Kate had nothing to worry about.

It sure doesn't feel like it.

The clock ticks loudly in the corner, the sound of it driving her insane. Every second they spend apart is agony. Who knew that love could be so painful? If Castle were here, he'd scold her for that thought, say something like, "Love is always nothing but beautiful, even when you think it hurts."

God, how she wishes he was next to her.

The time continues to trickle by slowly, her thoughts jumping back and forth from wondering when the rest of his family will get here to becoming more and more stressed over the lack of news. On one hand, not hearing anything means that he's almost definitely still alive, but the longer she spends alone, the more worried she gets.

This job. This damn job. He'd said that they'd be great, that DC would be great, but not even two months into their engagement and her fiancé's already in the hospital because of her choice.

Her choice to leave their family.

She unclasps her necklace and holds it out, studies the two rings nestled together on the chain – her mother's engagement ring and hers, what broke her and what made her whole. She slides her own ring into her palm and cradles it there, that tiny symbol of the life that they'd barely had the chance to start.

It might all soon be ripped away.

Her mother's ring goes back around her neck, but she slides the other onto her finger where it belongs, prays that that act alone will be enough to ensure that he makes it through.

She tries to imagine what it must have been like for him all those years ago, but that just makes it worse. Because now she does know what it's like to watch the life drain out of someone she loves, and it's the single most painful thing she's ever experienced. At least when her mom died she didn't have to sit through the suffering, didn't have to sit there and wait for it to happen, wondering if she'd be able to stop it and what if she couldn't?

She still owes him an apology for those three months – for hurting him when he must've been in so much pain already.

Her stream of thought is broken when the door clicks open and a middle-aged man wearing doctor's scrubs walks in. She's on her feet in an instant.

"How is he?" she demands.

He holds up a hand. "My name is Dr. Redmond. You're family of Richard Castle?"

"Yes. I'm Kate Beckett. I'm his fiancée." The word sticks in her throat. "Please. How is he?"

"He's stable, Miss Beckett," the doctor tells her. "He's currently being moved to a private room where he will be monitored indefinitely – at least until we can assess the full extent of the potential damage."

"P-potential damage? What do you mean potential damage?" she exclaims. "If he's stable, if everything's okay-"

"Yes, he's stable," Redmond says in a soft voice, trying and failing to soothe, "but I must warn you, there might be complications."

It's as though all the air has been sucked from the room. "Complications."

"Scans of his brain showed that there may have been some damage. It's very possible that his cognitive functions could have been impaired, among other things. We won't know for sure until he wakes up."

She slumps back in a chair, horror churning in her gut. He could still wake up broken. Because of her job.

Because of her.

"Can I see him?" she rasps.

"Of course," the doctor says. "The second he's situated in his room, we'll bring you there."

His hand is cold in hers, so different from what she's used to. She really didn't think it was possible, not for a man whose very being exudes warmth on a daily basis and yet here he is pale-faced, his skin cool to the touch.

Martha, Alexis, and a strange young man named Pi are currently down in the cafeteria, having skipped dinner to catch their flight. Castle's daughter had cried when Kate explained the potential harm to his brain; Martha, on the other hand, had been stony. She'd pressed a kiss to her son's forehead and hadn't said much afterward, not until Pi suggested they get food.

And while Martha and Alexis certainly have the right to be with him, Kate is grateful for the time alone with her fiancé.

She coasts her hand up and down his arm, trying to focus on the fact that he's in front of her and breathing instead of what he might be like when he wakes up. She can barely wrap her head around it, the idea that he'll be here, he'll be alive but…different.

Her writer's words might be gone.

She swallows down a sob, drops a kiss to each of his knuckles. He'll be okay. He has to be okay. He'll recover and they'll get married and have kids and maybe a dog and grow old together because that's how it's supposed to be. She refuses to believe that their future will be anything short of perfect. Whatever happens, they'll figure it out together.

As always.

She lifts his palm to her cheek, tries to pretend that none of this is real and that they're home in New York on a lazy Sunday, embracing in between making pancakes. But the beeping machines are all too loud and easily break the illusion that they're anywhere but in the hospital, that her almost-husband's life isn't in danger.

And then his finger twitches.

"Castle?" she gasps, moving to lean over him.

He grunts, eyelids flickering.

"Castle, hey, open your eyes for me, sweetheart," she murmurs. "Castle, please."

He obliges, exposing the baby blue irises that she absolutely adores. She watches as he slowly zeroes in on her face and frowns.

"Kate." It should make her happy, should be a comfort that he still knows and recognizes her.

But just as his hands are cold, so is his voice. And she can't help but take a step back when she realizes that he's not just frowning at her.

He's glaring.

A/N: sianita95 came to me with this prompt a few weeks ago, and I was so intrigued that I just had to oblige. No, I can't give out the full details of the prompt yet as it will give away what comes next (if you haven't already figured it out), but all in good time. My goal is to update this weekly. I'm currently juggling a 20 credit college workload and unfortunately, that has to come first, but I will do my best to be timely with this.

Also, reviews make me write faster.

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