A/N: This was written just after I saw Knockout. I was freaking out and so to calm myself, I wrote this little drabble. Hope you enjoy and reviews are welcomed!

Light streamed through the dusty off White blinds that partly shielded the world from the warm clean hospital room.

As the early morning sunshine streamed through the room and stretched it was met by a body; this body sat on an uncomfortable lime green chair that squeaked if it moved too much. The head belonging to that body lay on the hospital bed. The brown hair on that head sat at acute and obtuse angles, but the owner of that hair didn't really care- he had more pressing matters.

The light also swam to meet his hand. His hand were soft as they held another hand in their palm. With his thumb he stroked across the others knuckles, an unconscious act that only in sleep would happen. This other hand was pale and still. It led up to a face that the man had thought about constantly about for what felt like forever. Always was this woman's face on his mind.

Her brown chestnut hair sat about her shoulders in twist and curls and her eyelids veiled eyes so brown he could have sworn they were chocolate. But he hadn't seen them for a while. She sat in the bed in the same position day in and day out. She never moved but for the hope giving lifting of her chest. Those little puffs of air reminded him that he wasn't visiting a dead body and one day she will wake up.

And so this man sat at an awkward position every night just in case she woke up and needed him. Why she would need him? He could never answer that question; but he knew that he needed her.

The one thing he hated to do was to leave her. Abandon her in this hospital, you never know if they would come back and try to finish the job. That was his nightmare- having her taken away permentatly.

His thumb continued to stroke her knuckles, soft snores would occasionally filter from him as he slept. Stroke after stroke, sweep after sweep of his thumb on the mountains of her hand.

The woman in question began to move- but not a simple respirational action, her head began to shake off the long sleep that had shut her off from the busy noise of the outside world for over a week.

She let her eyes slowly blink awake. The light shone softy, and the silence hung pleasantly in the room. She let her head gain bearings of where she was.

A hospital. Why was she in a hospital?

She was shot. Well at least she wasn't dead.

It was only then did he cross her mind. What had happened to him? But she then felt a thumb stroke her hand and she looked down at the man in question.

He continued to snore and Kate could have laughed at the sight of him. She had never been so happy to see him.

"Castle?" she whispered as though she was in the library. Nothing. She noticed the bags that lay beaneath his eyes and spoke up, "Rick?"

Richard's angled hair head stirred and he too shakes off the nightmares of the previous night. Opening his blue eyes he was met with something only of his dreams- Kate. Slowly he smiled and she smiled back.

He didn't let go of her hand and she didn't want him to.