Yeah, this happened. Practically wrote it self. My fingers just typed it out and ajksmusic beta-ed and helped. :)
Summary: ...just like Schrödinger's cat, being alive and dead at the same time. Immediately post-"Always".
Disclaimer: Definitely don't own anything.
She lingered in the morning. Longer than he expected, but he wasn't going to complain. He had her, warm and safe in his arms, his life, and everything had been perfect. The catalyst, yet another life or death moment, wasn't exactly what he would have chosen for them, but she had come and let him love her.
He commented on the time and how late in the morning it was, and was she playing hooky, when she spilled the details. She wasn't going to work, and couldn't, really. And after explaining all the specifics and how everything went down, she told him that she didn't want to.
That had hit him harder than he could have ever expected. He wanted to shake her, make her see the error of her ways, tell her stories from his eyes, of how spectacular she is at her job. He wanted to argue. But then she looked at him, desperate for some understanding, and with love, and he just couldn't.
"Please, not now. I can't." She had whispered in his ear, pleading for some time and space, before he relented. He couldn't bear to make her hurt any more. So he let her go. He let her walk right out of his apartment – after a quiet breakfast – with the promise that she'd call him later.
Now it's 'later.'
And he's still sitting behind his desk, willing the phone to ring.
His iPhone finally vibrates, rocking ever so slightly against the desk, after another twenty minutes.
He barely takes a second to breathe before he's got the phone to his ear, anxious to hear her voice again. "Hey."
"Hey," she sounds tired and lost, "can you meet me somewhere? To talk?"
"Yeah. Anywhere. You name it."
"I'm at the park. By the Barnes and Noble that you signed at last year. When I came back?"
"I know the place. Meet you at the swings?"
"Sounds perfect." It sounds like there's some sort of smile on her face – he can only hope. The last time he was at that park things were rough, and the writer in him is trying to allude to some kind of encore. But he'll go for her, no matter what.
He spots her as soon as his foot leaves the curb to cross the street. Her hands are gripping the chains of the swing, her feet pushing her gently back and forth. It looks like she hasn't yet showered after being out in the rain last night, judging from the waves still in her hair, tied back in a ponytail.
The air is warm and breezy, only a tee shirt and jeans for both of them. Is she wearing sandals? He's not really sure that he's ever seen her toes.
Except for last night, of course.
A smile. She smiles when she sees him. It's thin and doesn't quite meet her eyes, but she's happy to see him.
He takes the seat beside her, pushes himself off to swing in time with her.
"You okay?" He doesn't want to push, but he doesn't know why she asked him to come here, and he's honestly a little afraid of what she'll say.
"I think so." She sighs, "I'm…not really sure what I'm doing."
"With me?"
A little laugh falls, sweetly, and she turns to look at him with nothing but honesty and love in her eyes. "No. Not really. I like what we're doing. Or…what we're going to do? I guess that would be the right way to say it, right?"
"Probably," he chuckles as well, "I do owe you a proper date."
"Gonna hold you to that, Castle."
"I have no doubt that you will. In fact, I'm counting on it."
She shakes her head haphazardly, biting her lip in that way that tells him she's thinking. Concentrating on something.
"I feel…like I'm in a sort of purgatory. I mean…everything's kind of standing still and I'm not really sure if I want to move forward or backward."
"Forward. Always forward, Kate."
"I don't mean literally. I mean," her shoulders slump and she leans so that she can rest her head on her arm against the chain, twisting the two so she can face him. "I don't really know where I am right now. Castle, I quit my job."
"Yes you did."
"What was I thinking?"
"I don't know," he mirrors her twisting of the swing and links his ankles around hers, anchoring them together. "I think it's been a long year. And maybe, you need time for yourself. When you're not secluded in a cabin upstate or doing physical therapy or being anxious to get back to where you were." He waits for her to meet his eyes. "Maybe where you were isn't where you wanted to be."
It's something to consider. At least for now, sitting here, just the two of them, chatting on a playground.
"I don't know if I don't want to go back. If I really don't, you know?"
He hums. "Do you have to make a decision today?"
"No." She whispers. "Ryan called me a couple of hours ago. He said that Gates is willing to let me take probation if I can get my act together in the next two weeks."
"So you have time."
"Some."
"Then, how about you take that time to figure that out?"
"I just don't know what to do."
"Kate," he soothes, "it's only been barely a day. You need to let yourself relax. Stressing yourself out isn't going to help."
"I know. I do, but…" she lifts her feet from the divots she made in the earth and the swing flips back to its rightful place, "it's like I'm dead and alive at the same time."
"Like Schrödinger's cat."
She turns her head and shoots him an inquisitive look. He lets his own swing flip forward again.
"Like the thought experiment with the poison-"
"I know what it is, Castle. But, how exactly does that relate to me?"
"Well, on the one hand, everything's upended. The case and your job? And me. It's all changed. But then, on the same principle, everything's changed."
"Yeah…?"
"Like the cat in the box, there's no way to know, right this second, if everything is changed for better or for worse. And like I said, it's only just been one day. How can you know the outcome of any of this if none of it's really actually changed yet?"
"You know, for a writer, your explanation of a physics theory kind of makes sense."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I just hate not knowing. That sense of looming uncertainty? It sucks."
"I won't disagree with you."
"But I guess…I am alive."
He grins, "I think last night proved that point."
She nods with a smirk and completely ignores his comment. "I think I might need some help figuring everything out, Castle."
She's looking at him almost like she did hours ago, before she first left. But this time she looks a little lighter, and a little less desperate, a little more hopeful.
He reaches out and grabs the chain of her swing, resting his hand on top of hers. The motion pulls the two together. Their sides bump and ricochet before settling again. Their laugher dances through the air.
"Take a couple of days for yourself first. No thinking about work allowed."
She starts to talk back but he tilts his head looking stern but tender.
"And then when your head is clear, and it doesn't seem like it's right there hanging over you, let me know. You know I'm here. Even for the messy stuff."
"I hope you're prepared, then. 'Messy' might be an understatement for my problems right now."
"Don't worry, I'll bring provisions. We'll make it."
"I'm glad you're here, Castle." She smiles, pushes her fingers through his and around. Their hands are a tight knot over the steel links.
"Me too."
They sit quietly at the swings, their own little in-between place where nothing really matters but now. Being alive. Together.
Thoughts?
Thanks for reading!
Tappin
=)