A/N: A sequel to 'Follow The Yellow Brick Road'. This is a little pre-5x19 one-shot, because I'm 100% confident they won't show us any of this on the show. Mild spoilers for 5x18 & 5x19.
"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it."
-Mark Twain
If I Could Steal A Rainbow I'd Give You Violet
"Easy, easy, easy," repeats Kate, wincing as she hovers by Castle's side while an attendant helps to manhandle him out of his seat.
Kate trails them both down the narrow aisle into the galley, their two carry-on bags slung over her shoulder, bouncing heavily against her hip, her aching arms outstretched protectively in case Castle should over-balance on his fancy crutches and tumble backwards…again.
They've been waiting on the aircraft for the ground handling company to arrive, their request for special assistance wired ahead, forcing them to be the last to leave the airplane until a wheelchair could be brought to the bottom of the jetway to take Castle into the terminal building and then on to the car service waiting for them out by the curb.
The ski trip was all his idea – a chance to get away, make a start on their bucket list together, and while Kate had certainly not objected, she would have liked a little more time to ensure they were both in good enough physical shape to hit the slopes at this peak time of year.
Aspen had been…glamorous to say the least, and then eventually irritating - the number of posers outweighing the number of serious skiers two to one.
But their chalet was beautiful; a picturesque escape in the mountains called Chalet Crystal, whose five bedrooms were left largely untouched, until the second day that is when Castle had decided that like Goldilocks they should sample all of the beds…and he didn't mean for sleeping in.
So, although they had made brief forays into town to check out the nightlife – live music at the Belly Up, cocktails and dancing at Escobar, a romantic dinner at Cache Cache one night followed by a horse-drawn, torch lit sleigh ride through Aspen Golf Course. Other than that, they had holed up in their own property to enjoy the view. The view of each other, of the snow covered mountain range nearby, of the smoky violet dawn as it broke over the trees, turning their bed and the world beyond a myriad colors on it's way to crisp, perfect, blinding whiteness every single morning while they lay in each other's arms watching nature perform for them through the massive floor to ceiling chalet windows.
They used the indoor hot tub to warm their aching limbs and loosen off stiff muscles after every trip out on the slopes. Castle was an accomplished skier; fearless, physically strong, though lacking some of the grace and finesse Kate so effortlessly displayed. But overall they were well matched, having stuck to the slightly easier, more popular slopes the first few days to find their feet, before taking a trip up to the sundeck at 11,200 feet, right below the aptly named Castle Peak on Aspen Mountain on the second day for obvious reasons, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces while they sipped ice cold schnapps and dug the heels of their ski boots into the hard-packed snow.
"So…you think I have a thing for you in ski pants?" Castle had asked her playfully, clinking his glass against Kate's, ignoring the profusion of fox fur coats, heavy perfume, expensive, pristine boots that would never see a set of ski bindings, frozen, botoxed faces, and large gold Rolex and Patek Philippe watches that swirled in an never ending, chattering, preening display around them.
Kate had sipped her drink, paused thoughtfully, and then she had slid her eyes up to meet his.
"I think you have a thing for me in or out of any pants," she had replied, arching one eyebrow and waiting for that trademark, sexy smirk to transform her partner's face.
"Good point, Detective," he had replied, topping up her glass and then raising his own in salute to her.
"What, you're not even going to argue with me anymore?" she had teased, enjoying the fun of sparring with him, both of them sharp, quick-witted and clever enough to keep the other on their toes.
"I know when I've met my match," Castle had replied cryptically, the dreamy, love-struck look in his eyes telling Kate to drop the topic here and now before the writer got down on one bruised, creaky knee to propel them both down the slippery slope towards matrimony.
Because the signs were there, growing louder by the day, the month, that 'what are we waiting for' background hum that accompanied every fun, relaxed, comfortable hour they spent together, every meaningful touch and lingering, tender look. But more importantly, it haunted the desperate kisses and clinging, clawing rawness they shared after every heart-stopping case, every near miss, every 'I'm so glad you're okay' and 'I thought I'd lost you', like some ghoulish stalker. They (she) had waited until the time seemed right to take the next step in their relationship, nearly missing out completely in the process by waiting too long. So Kate could feel Castle's restlessness growing, his need to ask where they were headed next and why they were delaying the inevitable. And it pained her that she had no answer for him yet, if he ever got around to gritting his teeth and giving voice to the question she could see lingering behind his eyes on days like this.
So she did what she always did at these moments - she changed the subject, created a diversion, pulling out her phone and snapping a shot of him with the sun reflecting off his vintage Aviators, his smile Hollywood-worthy, his ego reaching for her phone barely a second after the click registered to check out his own reflection.
The ruse had worked again, the dogs howled and the caravan moved on…for now. And Kate was left feeling both cheated and relieved at the same time.
They had agreed that their final day on the slopes would be the day they ticked off item number three on their newly minted bucket list.
#3 Ski off-piste and live to tell the tale
Kate had let Castle come up with the wording for the list, since he was supposed to be the professional wordsmith between them after all, a decision she quickly began to regret when she saw the items that would shape their future together described in theatrical, sometimes outlandish terms. So she made him promise never to show the list to another soul if he wanted to see his future at all, let alone with her, and he had nodded vigorously, now so deeply into this with her that he'd have agreed to evict his own mother if she'd asked.
So they had headed up Aspen Highlands in search of some untouched snow, finding it in Canopy Cruiser: a gladed area offering 18 acres of powdery virgin snow for them to explore largely uninterrupted.
Things were going fine, great in fact, as they raced one another through fir trees and over crisp, sparkling white snow, laughing and hollering so their voices bounced and echoed in the wide empty space breaching the chilled, expansive silence.
And then disaster had struck. Castle had misjudged the height and size of an innocuous looking mogul, and he had taken off into thin air and landed hard on his right leg, losing a ski in the process when the binding broke free as it was designed to, thankfully saving him from further damage. But he was already moaning in agony by the time Kate skied back around to reach him, his face shocking her with its contortion of pain and bloodless pallor as he rocked himself back and forth over his damaged leg with a pitiful whine.
The helicopter had transported them both off the mountain and down to Aspen Hospital, where torn ligaments and a fractured patella had been diagnosed, and Castle, his leg eventually immobilized in a brace, had squeezed Kate's hand so hard she feared he might have broken her pinky finger.
So packing and making phone calls to amend their flight home, dealing with her partner's travel insurance and informing his mother and daughter of his misfortune had fallen to Kate, while Castle slept for nine hours straight, knocked out by the strong pain meds the hospital had insisted on giving him to keep him still and help him begin to heal.
He had murmured her name in his sleep, a fact that brought a satisfied smile to her face after the recent night she had dubbed the 'Jordan incident'. She had eventually settled in beside him, drowned in one of his large, black tee shirts, to stroke his hair and kiss him gently as he slept, vowing to cross off-piste skiing off their list no matter its abrupt end. Because no way would she be going through a scare like that again, after she helplessly watched him land so hard in the snow and cry out in so much pain, causing her to fear the worst.
She had roamed the chalet alone that night, too restless and wired to sleep, eventually settling against the cool, plate glass to watch the dawn rise alone, the sun striking the crystal hanging in front of one window, refracting the light into a rainbow spectrum of color, violet as ever her favourite, wishing Castle were here beside her to share it as she wrapped her arms around her body, her muscles aching from cradling his body against hers to keep him out of the snow.
And so now here they are, back in Manhattan at his own front door, Eduardo handling the luggage while Kate unlocks the loft and ushers one tired and grumpy Castle inside.
Life keeps drawing her back here to stay, she realizes as she crosses the threshold – explosions that destroy her own home, even the bugs that took up residence in her apartment building resulting in a fumigation that forced them to live together for a short time. And now there is this – Castle's skiing injury – another nudge from the universe that maybe her place is here after all.
They haven't talked about it - how much he wants her to just move her stuff into the loft – lock, stock and closet full of stilettos. He's giving her time, never drawing attention to how many nights in the last few weeks she's spent at his place, though she could see he was tempted when she picked up a stack of mail at her apartment a week ago and discovered her credit card payment was overdue. He bit his tongue and looked away when she turned to him with that resigned look on her face, expecting him to be so smug about it. He'd redirect her mail in a heartbeat. Of course he would. But he knows that it needs to come from her, and if she's not ready, then neither is he.
So for now he's just enjoying how often they find themselves tangled up in his sheets, bumping shoulders and squabbling while they do laundry together (he folds and fluffs way better than her), cooking meals side-by-side after a long, hard day at the precinct, distracting themselves from the futility of death with oven timings, quirky ingredients and quantities of chili she always doubles behind his back.
They've hit their stride, a comfortable rhythm where all initial awkwardness over bathroom routines, bodily functions, finances, sexual preferences, family matters and privacy have all but melted away, bringing them closer, making them more solid, ensuring that life shouldn't be any other way for them now.
"Bed or sofa?" asks Kate, as Castle hobbles inside on crutches, the brace encasing his right leg making it tricky to walk.
"Sofa," says Castle, cheerlessly, aiming himself unsteadily in that direction.
He makes a terrible patient Kate soon realized, and she can't wait for the wheelchair she's ordered to get here so that he can get some mobility and freedom back and stop feeling so sorry for himself.
Bathroom visits have been the worst. He needs her help, but then he's obsessed with not ruining their romantic life by letting her see him struggle to deal with the basic practicalities that involves. The first night in Aspen after his accident she had to tell him the unpleasant story of how she once found her dad slumped on the cold bathroom floor beside the toilet, soaked in his own vomit, and how she had to help him strip off his soiled clothes and get into the shower to freshen him up, before Castle would permit her to help him properly.
He's covered in violet purple bruises - his leg, his buttocks, his lower back – and Kate knows from past experience how these will pass through all the colors of the rainbow until he heals. She wishes she could take the pain away for him. And she's just so thankful that this accident didn't end any worse for either of them. She realizes at times like this that she would do almost anything for this man, to make his life easier, safer, happier. She just has to face up to the fact that there are things he will ask of her to make this happen, to make it a reality. These are not things that will harm her. No, they will make her life richer too. She just has to learn to let go to hold on.
Later that night they lie in bed together, Castle's leg surrounded by a protective channel of pillows, and they reminisce idly back over their trip.
"So…we scored one off," says Kate, turning her head to look at him.
"Does that even count?" asks Castle, pulling the sheet higher over his chest, the chill of the under heated bedroom making him shiver.
"Oh, it counts alright. Believe me. I am not going through that again," Kate laughs quietly, rolling onto her side so she can see him better.
"I'm sorry I ruined the trip," he says, whining a little in the process.
"You didn't. I had a great time. Let's just…pick something a little easier for our next challenge, hmm? Something a little less…death-defying."
"So I'm guessing buying the apartment across the street and installing a zipline is out?" he grins, taking her hand.
"Those aren't even supposed to be on our list," corrects Kate, poking him in the ribs.
"You said I could draft it."
"Draft. Yes. Our list. Not add in your own unfinished items."
"Oh," is all Castle says in reply, turning his head to grin at her.
Because he knows. He always knows.
They remain silent for a few seconds, their joined hands the only point of physical contact between them.
"So, you had fun?"
"Yes," nods Kate, smiling at a whole range of wonderful memories. "I definitely had fun."
"And…"
"And what?" she asks, a note of suspicion in her voice.
"This embargo on dangerous sports. Does that mean having sex in Central Park Zoo is out?"
Kate gives him a long hard look.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Romeo," she says dryly, "but I'd say having sex period is out for now. Why don't we make a start on the complete works of Shakespeare and leave the sexual acrobatics until you can go to the bathroom unaided."
"Oh, I don't know, Detective. I'm sure if we got a little…creative…" he suggests, angling his face towards her to indicate that he wants her to kiss him.
Kate touches his jaw, turning his face away from her with a grin and a gentle push.
"The only creative thing you're going to be getting up to is getting better. Understand? I'm a partner down for the next few weeks. Sex at the Zoo is off the menu for now," she smirks, leaning away to grab a couple of books from the nightstand. "Othello or King Lear?" she asks Castle, holding the two leather-bound volumes up for him to choose.
"Will you stay with me?" he asks quietly, once she is halfway down the first page.
'In following him I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so for my peculiar end.'
"Stay with you?" asks Kate, needing a little clarification, her heart beating faster than it should as she tears her eyes away from the page.
"Mmm. While I'm…out sick."
Kate laughs in relief, dropping her book onto the bed, the pages spread open to keep her place.
"You're not on sick leave, Castle. Since you don't actually work for the NYPD."
"Can't I be reassigned to desk duty?" he asks, his voice small, like a hopeful little boy.
"In a wheelchair?" snorts Kate, carding her fingers through his hair. "Gates would love that."
Castle leans into her touch, needing more but realizing he'll have to settle for this for now, and feeling petulant about it because he knows it's all his own stupid fault for showing off to impress his girlfriend in the first place.
"So, will you stay with me…here?" he repeats, needing to know now. "If we can't work together, I'll never get to see you otherwise."
"Doesn't look like I have much choice," replies Kate, smiling indulgently at him. "Not when you ask me so sweetly. Emotional blackmail and all," she adds, tweaking his earlobe.
"Come on. You know you want to," he wheedles, tugging on her hand. "You can be my nurse. Then we can score number fourteen off the list. What do you say?"
"I say you're lucky you're injured already so I don't have to hurt you myself."
"Beckett, you know you want to," he whispers, as she leans down to kiss him, watching his eyelids flutter closed as her soft breath caresses his lips, her fingers stroking his jaw, and she feels so tenderly towards him, so protective, that her heart aches.
"I'll be here as long as you need me," she promises, hoping that will be enough of an answer for now.
"I'll never stop needing you," replies Castle confidently, his fingers tightening on the back of her neck, drawing her down into him and holding her there as he devastates her mouth with a kiss that blanks her mind so completely that it leaves her questioning her own sanity.
#3 Ski off-piste and live to tell the tale
# 9 Read the complete works of William Shakespeare
#14 Indulge in a little General Hospital themed role-play
#16 Have sex behind the monkey enclosure in Central Park Zoo
Violet, noun: a bright bluish purple color that takes its name from the violet flower.
In the meaning of colors, purple and violet represent the future, the imagination and dreams, while spiritually calming the emotions. The color violet inspires unconditional and selfless love, devoid of ego, encouraging sensitivity and compassion.
The color violet relates to the fantasy world and a need to escape from the practicalities of life. It is the daydreamer escaping from reality.
A/N: Happy Castle Monday or Tuesday whenever it comes for you. I think we're in for a fun ride these next two episodes. Liv