Shall Not Tear Asunder
Disclaimer: I still don't own it, and they're way more evil than me
AN: This story is essentially a multi-chapter follow up to the oneshot story Inchoate by ColieMacKenzie. I highly recommend reading that first, because it sets up the narrative and it's wonderful.
For CB, who always makes the words make sense. And for Nic, who offered unbelievable support and encouragement in allowing me to climb into her sandbox and build a whole new...well, castle.
But after everything that's happened I think you guys have learned something. Love survives. Survives any joy, any sorrow. All the rights, all the wrongs - even life and death. But then, you both know that already. - John McNamara*
It's almost a week after their encounter, after she'd more or less tearfully declared herself in mourning for her marriage, and realized they were, the both of them, carefully hiding their misery from the world. Kate hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. Which is exactly why she's toeing off her shoes with a sigh of defeat, well before 9PM on a Friday night, when her phone rings.
She digs for it, nearly dropping the device at the sight of Castle's face on the screen. It's a picture of him she loves, one she tells herself she keeps on her phone so her girls are greeted by their father's smiling face whenever he calls. It's for the girls. Of course it is, that's her mantra in all things. The fact that her heart picks up at the sight is irrelevant. Completely. It is.
"Hey, Castle," she says when she finally picks up the call, waiting until the very last moment before banishing the sight of him from the screen.
His voice is hesitant, and slightly muffled by the sound of movement behind him, as if he's walking. "Kate, I - is this a good time?"
She sighs. It shouldn't be, but it is. "What do you need, Castle? Are the girls -"
"Spending the night with Mother," he says quickly. "Indulging their inner divas."
She laughs at the thought even as she sinks down on her sofa, pinning her feet beneath her and settling the phone at her ear. "They'll enjoy that," she says softly, the image it brings to her mind warming her, stabilizing her turbulent thoughts a bit. But she still doesn't know why he's calling. "Castle?"
For a moment, all she can hear is the sound of him moving, and breathing into his phone. "Kate," he says, haltingly. "Kate I need to see you."
Something feels wrong. She sits up now, feet on the floor. "Castle, are you okay? Are you sick, are you...are you in some kind of trouble? You sound, off." Then she thinks a moment and asks, "Have you been drinking?"
There is a sound she can't quite identify, and then his voice, out of breath. "Like, 3 cups of black coffee."
She relaxes a little, knowing that he's not in some sort of imminent danger. If it were anyone else, she reflects, that would be a crazy thought, but this is them, and well - there have been stranger things. Still. "You hate black coffee," she says.
"Had to be something," he says absently. "I needed - Kate, I need to see you."
"Okay," she says, trying to keep it light, easy. "When you bring the girls tomorrow, we can take some time and -"
" - Kate."
She sighs out a long breath she hadn't even known she was holding. "Rick, you're already here, aren't you?"
"I, please. Kate, please. I just need..." He trails off, and she's pulling herself to her feet, walking to her front door. As she's suspected, she finds her ex-husband standing in the doorway the moment that she pulls it open. His phone is propped at his shoulder, a bottle of wine held in a causal grip in his opposite hand.
Her breath catches dangerously in her throat. Because there's something in his eyes that she knows. Knows so, so well. That look that wanders her whole face, takes in all of her, sees through her. And she's terrified. Because he can probably see everything there on her face. How this is all she's wanted all week. All year.
"I had to see you," he repeats, pocketing his phone without ever taking his eyes from hers.
"Castle, this isn't a good idea," she tries. Because she has to try. But it's a weak effort, mostly meaningless, and they both know it. They both know she can't bring herself to mean it.
"Just let me in, Kate," he says, pleading now. "I'm just asking you to let me in."
She takes a pause, a breath. Then she swings the door open wider and steps back to grant him access to her apartment. It's not what he meant, not really. But for her, the meaning of it all is intertwined. With a long look into those blue eyes she could never bring herself not to love, she stops blocking the way and lets him in.
*The above quote was written in a script for the television show Lois & Clark, specifically the season 4 wedding episode, Swear to God, This Time We're Not Kidding - credited to writer John McNamara
