A/N: This story is dedicated to our beautiful, sweet, kind, talented and all around wonderful Jo! I can't tell you enough how much I enjoyed meeting you and spending some time with you. Thank you for this amazing prompt, I hope you like it. There will be one or two more chapters!

Enjoy!

The first few times she'd woken up had been excruciating. She'd managed to open her eyes, but her vision had been blacked out from the pain, the fire licking at her bones, clawing her chest open.

The first time had been so bad she thinks she remembers thinking she'd rather not wake up again. It was just too much, pure torment, her entire body burning with the simple task of taking in a fresh breath.

It's been better since then, manageable. Especially since they'd started giving her morphine. She hated taking drugs, insisted she didn't want them, even though she knew she did. She just didn't want to take any chances. Her father had never planned to become an alcoholic when her mother was murdered, but he'd become dependent, had relied on the liquor to take the pain away until it was all that worked, all he remembered how to do.

She'd watched her dad make that mistake, had witnessed just how long, how difficult it had been for him to pick himself up again after that. She wasn't about to fall in the same bottomless hole.

But her damn nurses wouldn't listen to her.

"'Mm fine," she says again for the thousandth time when the nurse comes in to give her another dose. She isn't – it's agony when the drugs start to wear off – but she'll be okay, she knows it.

"Katie, honey, you need to relax," her dad tells her, sitting in the chair next to her hospital bed. "I know you hate them, but you need this. Just for a little while."

She hates seeing him this worried. Her father seems to have aged ten years since she last saw him. He has dark purple patches under his eyes, probably from lack of sleep and the frown lines close to his mouth have deepened.

God, this is her fault. She's put him through this, has him worried sick.

She stops arguing with the nurse, lets the woman change her IV without further protest and tries not scowl when she sees her add another shot of morphine. She doesn't want her father to worry anymore.

Kate squeezes her hand around Jim's fingers, knows that the drugs are going to knock her out cold soon.

"You should go home," she slurs, turning her head the slightest bit to look over at her father.

"Not going anywhere, Katie," he answers easily. "I might let Rick swap in the next time you wake up though." The mention of her partner has her heart stuttering in her chest, but it's not nearly as painful as she expects. Her father chuckles beside her and she wonders if the heartrate monitor picked up on the subtle change in pace.

"He's been here for days. Hasn't even gone home to change. The nurses threatened to kick him out but I'm pretty sure he bribed them." She's holding onto consciousness by a thread, fighting against the current that threatens to pull her under, but she can hear the small smile in her father's voice.

"He's a good man," Jim says.

"Mm," Kate hums, getting drowsier by the second but a vivid flash of blue flashes behind her eyes. She isn't sure if it's his eyes or the clear skies she'd seen while lying on her back, bleeding out into the grass of the cemetery. She screws her eyes shut tighter when she starts to hear the screams that surrounded her, the shouts and chaos coming from every direction. But he'd been there with her, right beside her like he'd promised, tears in his eyes as he'd pleaded with her not to go, to stay with him. "He told me he lo…"

The words trail off her tongue, remain unfinished as she gets sucked into the harsh pull of sleep, but the memory is there. She heard him, and she remembers.

The next time she wakes, the piercing bright pain in her chest she's grown so accustomed to isn't quite so strong and she finally feels like she can breathe without sending tiny broken fragments of glass into her lungs.

Her brain feels fuzzy though, and everything seems to be a little out of focus.

"It's so good to see you awake." She hears a voice from beside her and turns her head towards the source. Her vision is blurry too, but she can make out the broad shoulders, the dark hair and that is definitely not her dad. Maybe Castle came in like her dad said?

"Can't feel my legs," she says, when she realizes she can't wiggle her toes. The voice chuckles beside her.

"That's probably the morphine."

Riiight, they had given her morphine. And she'd taken it because she hadn't wanted to upset her dad. Damn, she hated morphine.

"Feel loopy," she mumbles, and groans a second later, hating the way the words barely make it past her lips, her tongue thick and slow in her mouth.

"Listen Kate, I know this might not be the right time, and I um… I know things haven't exactly been great between us lately but seeing you almost die-"

"Shhh, it's okay" she tries to reassure him. She'd been horrible to him this last week. He'd only been trying to help, to keep her safe. He'd tried to keep her away from her mother's case and she hadn't been ready to walk away but… She hadn't meant what she said in her apartment. They weren't over. They couldn't be.

"I just wanted to tell you that I really think we can make this work. And I love you."

Stay with me. I love you. I love you, Kate.

The words have warmth spreading through her from head to toe. She'd held onto them when everything else was fading to black, when the walls were closing in, collapsing all around her. She'd wanted to hold on for him.

It's hard to move any single one of her muscles right now, and she doesn't really feel like she has control over her own body, but she pulls out every ounce of strength she has left to lift her lips in a smile for him.

"Hmm, love you too, Castle."

Josh sits in the chair beside her bed, his fingers slipping from hers and falling to his lap, stunned.

Did she just say Castle?

Okay, so it may not have been a great idea to tell her he loved her while she was still doped up on pain meds and barely conscious, but he hadn't expected her to reciprocate by telling him she was in love with another man.

Then again, he probably should have seen it coming. She spends practically day and night with the writer. He'd asked her several times what her relationship with Castle was and she'd always brushed him off, insisting it was strictly platonic, but deep down he thinks he's always known. She might have managed to convince herself it was true, but he'd seen the way they were together.

He really thought they'd be able to make it work and damn it, he'd given up going to Haiti for her.

He needs some air, and clearly, she isn't in any state to have a serious conversation about the future of their relationship right now.

"I'll be back after rounds."

"Rounds?" She asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Right. She still thinks he's Castle.

The door clicks open before he has the time clear things up for her and he scowls at the sight of her partner.

"Hey, Castle," Kate says, looking up to meet the man's eyes and the corners of her mouth lift in bright smile. He doesn't think he's ever seen her smile so genuinely for him. It has the blood in his veins boiling, anger and jealousy rearing their ugly heads.

"Wait- I thought…" She looks between him and her partner standing by the door with a large bouquet of flowers, her eyes screwing shut. She must only now be realizing that she'd mistaken him for her partner, her logical mind reminding her that there couldn't be two Castle's in the same room with her. And she recognized the real one as soon as he'd walked in.

Her hands come up to cover her face and he needs to go anyway, needs to clear his head. He bends over to lay a small kiss to her forehead, just to spite the writer waiting by the door.

Lifting himself up from the chair, he walks towards the door and he knows it's petty, knows it's absolutely inappropriate, especially considering this is his work place, but he can't help shoving his shoulder against Castle's on his way out, knocking the other man slightly off balance.

And then he walks away.

The man she now recognizes as Josh leaves the room, leaving Castle standing there with a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and – oh god, she just told Josh – her boyfriend – that she loves Castle, didn't she?

This is not good. Not good at all.

Her head still feels a little fuzzy, but then she notices Rick is still standing by the doorway and something akin to adrenaline starts pumping through her veins, clears up her mind. He loves her.

"Hey," he says, coming a little closer, walking a few steps toward her bed.

Speaking of things that probably don't look good.

"You're staring at me. I must look really bad." She lifts her hands up to cover her face, can feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"No," he says, surprising her with the gentle awe lacing his voice. "I just never thought I'd see you again." She looks up to see a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I heard you were opening a flower store, so I thought I'd pitch in," he adds, going for levity when she doesn't answer right away.

"They were all here when I woke up. I think they're mostly from the precinct," she says, though she hasn't really had the time to look at the colorful flowers that sit at her bedside. Hell, she's barely been able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time. It's pathetic really. "I don't think I'm going to live this one down, Castle."

"Oh, probably not," he agrees, taking a seat in the chair Josh has just vacated at her bedside and his words are the first thing that have her lips parting in a smile since she's opened her eyes.

Kate looks over at him. He looks tired, a state similar to her father's with red rimmed eyes, but the small smile he wears is real, not the one he plasters on for the tabloids. She loves that smile.

Her mind still feels heavy, her eyes drooping, and she knows she doesn't have very long before her body traitorously shuts down on her again. "You tried to save me," she says, as if he doesn't already know.

"Yeah, I- um… kind of acted on instinct," he says sheepishly but then his face falls, darkness crossing over his features. "But I wasn't fast enough and I – I'm so sorry Kate."

"Hey, no, Castle don't," she chastises, can't even believing he's apologizing for trying to save her life, for jumping in front of a bullet for her. "If I wasn't so weak right now I'd smack you for even considering trying to take a bullet for me."

"I'd do it again-"

"Don't you dare," she warns, her heart rate picking up and the damn monitor at her bedside gives her away, belies her agitation, the hot flare of pain in her chest beginning to tear through her again and Castle rises from the chair, worry spread all over his face.

"Hey, hey, everything's okay, Kate, just relax," he whispers, his fingers coming up to brush the hairs that have fallen from her braid covering her eyes. "I don't plan on taking a bullet any time soon," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Not ever," she corrects, and the pain slowly starts to recede, ebb away as she takes in deep breaths. She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes tightly from the pain but when she opens them again he's close, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek, can smell the comforting scent of him still lingering on his skin despite all the time he's apparently spent in the hospital waiting for her to wake up.

Part of her had doubted his words when she'd first woken up, had thought maybe she'd imagined them, had dreamt his entire confession while she'd been under. But looking at him now, the way his eyes roam over every inch of her face, his fingers gently tracing over the smooth skin at her cheeks as though committing everything to memory… she knows it wasn't a dream.

He loves her.

And somehow, even though she'd spoken the words with such ease while under the influence of drugs to the wrong man, to the man she thought was him, nerves clog her throat now, trapping them in. She's a coward.

She loves him too. But he deserves better than this, better than her damaged, weak and mangled body. He deserves better than the way she'd treated him this past week, how she'd told him they were over when he'd tried to look after her, to reason with her about the value of her life. He deserves more than all her baggage and her scars.

"I can't lose you too, Castle," she whispers selfishly because even though she knows she doesn't even come close to being what he deserves, she doesn't know how to walk away, doesn't have it in her to let him leave.

"I'm not going anywhere, Kate," he assures her, and the sound of her first name past his lips has her insides fluttering. "You aren't losing me."

She wants to hear him tell her again, to hear his words when they aren't immediately followed by the memory of the piercing pain of a bullet shattering through her chest, exploding agonizingly across her entire body. But she also wants to be able to say the words back to him when no one else is in the picture, no one standing between them.

"Rick," she whispers, and his eyes light up. She's usually angry when she calls him that, but not this time. "About what you said... at the cemetery," she starts, and she sees the hope flare up in his eyes, burning brighter than she thinks she's ever seen. She'd considered lying, telling him she didn't remember what happened. It probably would have been the easiest way for both of them, but if she's going to try and be what he deserves, she can't start with lies because she's too much of a coward to face his words.

"I need a bit of time." His face falls as soon as the words come out of her mouth and she wants to slap herself. She's already screwing everything up. "I need time to heal, to be... better than this, to be more," she confesses, shame flooding her system.

"Kate," he says, his voice soft, calming as he brings her face back up to meet his eyes with his fingers under her chin. He waits until he's sure he has her attention. "I'll wait however long you need," he assures her. "But just so you know, you don't need to be more. You're already kind of a superhero."

Her heart feels lighter than it has in a long time, more so than even before she was shot in the chest and she feels her lips curl up in a hint of a smile. "Pretty sure I'd have dodged that bullet if I was a superhero," she counters but he shakes his head seriously.

"No way. Name one superhero who hasn't been inches from death," he challenges, but her head is starting to feel heavy again and she can't concentrate well enough to give it much thought. "They all come close to death, but they always pull through, always save the day. Just like you, Beckett," he says triumphantly, as if he's provided enough evidence to prove his theory to be correct.

She has just enough force left to lift up her arm and slap his shoulder lightly, even though it lacks the force necessary to be in any way effective. "'M not a hero, Castle," she denies, her words slurring as sleep threatens to pull her under once more.

"Sleep, Kate," she hears him say and she feels the warmth of his hand slipping into hers just before she allows her eyes to fall shut.

TBC...