Hey guys~
I just want to start this off by saying I'm super sorry to everyone who was following "The Right Road". I just started writing it, everything was going great... and then bam. Blank. I'm still suffering with writer's block with that one, and as soon as I can I'll update that. Promise.
This thing sort of appeared out of nowhere after "A Dance with Death", that promo, and what we know about the upcoming episodes. Major spoilers! Warning! Major spoilers! Do not read this if you don't want to know anything about "47 Seconds" or about what we've heard the next episodes will include. But anyway. Please enjoy.
Disclaimer: I'm a sick and tired high schooler. This is probably not what's gonna happen, but in my happy little mind this is what happens. Castle belongs to the fabulous Marlowe and Co, who I'm sure will destroy our minds come the next few episodes.
She should've known better than to let him shadow that pathetic excuse of a detective.
She should've known that it could only end badly with that guy. With a name like Slaughter and a reputation for turning spies and witnesses into casualties once he had the information he needed? Yes. She should've known better.
But she hadn't. She hadn't stopped him from following that man on that cursed case. She probably wouldn't have been able to stop him anyway, with all they'd gone through lately. With the bomb- both the actual bomb in the case last month and the emotional bomb she didn't realize she dropped until it was too late, she'd realized that time… it has a funny way of disappearing. Moments in time- a bomb placed, a shot fired, words spoken, a thought not thought… they can be crucial to how life plays out.
The actual bomb itself was the first blow of that case. The sheer devastation and terror of it all was overwhelming, and the vision of the blackened bomb site, the feds, and the innumerable injured and bleeding people… No, that would never leave her. But what struck closest to home was that one of the victims had been in a "complicated" relationship with someone just a few feet away from being blown to bits as well. The relationship proved very familiar. The person now left alone had actually been wishing he'd been blown up too when they spoke to him. He said the regrets hung unbearably heavy, too heavy for him to possibly bear on his heart and survive. Regret that they hadn't said how they felt. Regret that they never got to live the future they so often joked about. Regret that they hadn't just taken the leap, taken the jump. Regret that they hadn't enjoyed the fragile time they had together. By the time they got to that fateful interrogation day that changed it all, his interview burned at her mind. What if that had been them? It was viable to happen any day, really. Just made you think, you know? About the things you didn't want to put off anymore, as she'd said to him on the first day of the case.
She drew a shuddering breath as the memory of that day of fallout bloomed into her mind. She had been interrogating the man they had caught on camera placing the bomb at the time, and he had been making these seemingly ridiculous (at the time, this was before they discovered the drugs he'd been dosed with,) claims that he didn't remember a thing about the bomb and why he placed it. Castle wasn't at the precinct yet and she was on the hunt. Impervious to distraction as she had been trained…
"So why don't you just tell me," she said, leaning over the table at Robert Lopez, their bomber, "Why did you plant that bomb?
"I… I don't know," he said after staring blankly at her for a moment.
"Do you want me to refresh your memory?" she said, placing the security camera image they had of him placing the backpack on the ground and circling around the table, "You were standing here by the lamppost, and you dropped the backpack, and then you started running as it exploded and killed five people."
"I didn't do what you sai-" he said, voice level.
"Witnesses saw you drop the backpack, Bobby," she retorted. How stupid did he think she was?
"It wasn't mine!" he retorted.
"So you admit to having it," she said. Oh she was going to get this guy, and she was going to get him bad. There was no way he was going to get out of this trap.
"No, that's-that's not what I meant," he said.
She interrupted him, "You just said that it wasn't yours."
"Yeah cause you just got me all confuse-" he said, interrupting her. Well, that wouldn't do.
"Did you or did you not have it? It's a simple question," she said, having settled onto the table to move in for the kill.
"I… I don't know," he said, eyes big as they looked up at her.
"Who put you up to this, Bobby? Who gave you that backpack?"
"I don't… I don't know… I don't remember."
"You don't remember? How do you not remember?"
"I was in shock. When that bomb went off everyone was running and screaming…"
"Oh, okay," she said, seeing where this was going, "So you remember what happened after the bomb went off, but not before."
"Is must've been one of those traumatic amnesia things…"
"Bobby," she snapped, voice lowering, "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not! It was all a big blank, it was the trauma!"
Trauma? What did this kid know about trauma? Nothing. He knew nothing. The walls around her personal life that were usually so strong during interrogation promptly broke, her instinct for the hunt overcoming them.
"It was not the trauma," she said, anger flaming in her voice, "You don't get to use that excuse."
"I swear, I don't remember!"
"The hell you don't remember! Do you want to know trauma? I was shot in the chest and I remember every second of it! And so do you."
She circled around behind him, leaning against the wall to let him mull over that for a while. Her mind also needed a moment. Wow. That… That was the first time she'd said that outside of Burke's office. She took in a deep breath. Sure felt a little odd…
Half an hour later of pointless questioning she left the box. It had been a while since questioning anyone had hit that close to home, not since the sniper really. Though really, every case this year seemed to tie back to her life somehow in the end. Also she… she just couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been listening, watching that interrogation, though that was definitely just her imagination. Nobody was around to be watching it. Castle wasn't at the precinct yet, it was still early. The boys were digging into leads elsewhere, had better things to be doing. Gates wouldn't have allowed them to just watch. Queen Permafrost probably had them slaving over the witness interviews somewhere.
They had solid proof the bozo did it, but he couldn't remember the time before he planted a bomb? Memory wasn't specific like that, right? It wasn't like he'd been shot or his one and done had proclaimed his love after years of struggle or claimed to not have knowledge about the proclamation of love to said one and done and avoided them for an entire summer… no. She settled into her desk chair, smiling at the coffee mug placed on her desk. Grabbing it, she took a long gulp of it. She would need the caffeine today, that was for sure. It was near guaranteed to be a long day. Esposito walked up, looking concerned.
"Hey Esposito," she said, "Got anything? Oh, and have you seen Castle?"
"Uh…" he said, "No, and yes."
"Oh, where is he?" she said, shuffling a few papers around.
"Well he came in while you were in the box, and last I saw him he was heading off to go watch you. Thought he'd be with you," he said, his expression growing more concerned.
"Oh, okay," she said, "Guess he just…"
Oh no.
No, oh god, no. Not now. He'd heard her. He'd heard her in interrogation. He'd heard her. Heard her announce to anyone nearby that she remembered the gunshot. And how much more specific could she have been about how much she remembered? Every single second of it. It wasn't like she'd said 'and I remember it,' she'd said every single second. No excuses to hide behind, that it was hazy, that she couldn't remember anything clearly and that it was all dreamlike. He had heard. He knew she deceived him about what she remembered. And of all the ways to find out, in an interrogation and her seemingly blurting it out like it was nothing? In all the times she'd discussed this secret with Dr. Burke he'd always try to talk her into telling Castle, and she'd claim she wasn't ready, and then he'd ask her how she planned on telling him then. This was definitely not one of them. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. God, how could she have been so stupid? So careless? Granted, she thought he was home and she'd been caught up in the thrill of the chase but still… it was no excuse. No excuse to let that fall out like it was nothing, knowing that anyone could be watching.
"Beckett, you okay?" asked Esposito, interrupting her thoughts and looking at her, worried.
"I… Yeah," she said absently. Esposito shot her a final look before getting called away by Ryan to check something out.
She sank into her desk chair, ignoring the questioning stares from everyone around her and biting back a burning flood of tears just dying to burst out. Some part of her told her to chase him down and set him straight about the deception- chances were he wasn't still in the precinct. But as for the rest of her, that was frozen in place in that desk chair, with a shattering heart and a mind in turmoil. Would she ever see him again? Would he even want to see her again? Would they ever recover from this? If they didn't, would she ever recover from this?
And all of his marriages ended in lies too. She might as well be the same as Meredith, might as well have cheated on him. She'd broken his trust, the absolute trust they'd shared, the trust that had them comparing how many times they'd saved each other's lives. She'd blown it up, and she'd have to fix it or it would never come back. And losing him… it… she wouldn't… ugh. Her heart had already been broken once before, and it barely recovered from that. A second blow to that bandaged and bruised heart? No, she'd never put the pieces back together.
Damn. She took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale. She'd fix it. She had to. Well, she had to at least try. He deserved to know why, why she lied, why she wasn't good enough for him yet. He deserved an apology, as he'd done for her so many times in the past when he'd messed up. He deserved to know how badly she wanted this to end in the marriage, the 2.5 kids, the happily ever after, the forever… oh god did she just admit that? Yes. Yes she did. And she didn't want to be the one to ruin that eternity by being the broken bird, if she hadn't ruined it already.
She dragged her reluctant body up off the chair, avoiding the curious looks the nosy uniforms and detectives were all shooting her and headed to the break room to think. She'd have to apologize, that was clear. An explanation? She guessed it was the same thing, really. Hopefully he'd been willing to hear it. She'd do anything to have him understand, to at least… at least forgive her. To return to the fragile balance they'd had. That balance seemed like a faraway dream right now. She'd do anything, always to get back to that. Thing was, she couldn't leave the Precinct in the middle of the day. Gates would never allow it, especially not with this case. It would have to be put off. Though how the hell she would be able to put it to the back of her mind, she had no idea.
And now here she was, sitting outside a hospital room. He'd been stabbed. Stabbed! A few more inches to the right and he'd be dead. Just like her mother, dead with knife wounds, bleeding out and dying on the cold, cold ground. Another barrier of people who just didn't get it to pass. Another body to have embedded in her mind. Another grave to visit.
The thought caught her breath in her throat, the world narrowing and images flashing through her mind. Castle, dead behind a line of police tape. A stabber not caught, a case marked cold. Feelings not said, a hysterical daughter, a grieving mother… things left unsaid, love never shared. It took a long struggle to snap herself out of it. Been a while since she'd had one of those, not since the sniper really. Knives and people she loved tended to throw her into panic attacks. She really ought to just ban everyone she loved from going near knives at this point. At the thought she gave a hollow laugh, gaining her a few worried looks from around the tense room. Martha sat with Alexis, the teenager curled into her grandmother's side. Alexis and Beckett had exchanged some harsh words, the two of them. But now, now all there was between them was unified fear for Castle's life, regardless of the doctors insisting that he wouldn't die from an arm wound, no matter how deep, and that he'd be fine. He hadn't almost died from blood loss. His heart wasn't stopping. He didn't have a bullet broken heart. He'd be okay.
Or at least that was what she kept telling herself anyway.
Ryan and Espo weren't there. At the precinct they had essentially stolen the stabber off of Slaughter's hands (how did they convince Gates?) and had destroyed the stabber in interrogation the last she'd heard. You didn't mess with a teammate and get away with it. They were doing the paperwork at the moment for booking. Her boys.
Slaughter had visited the hospital for a moment. Bad idea on his part. Martha Rodgers and Alexis Castle were there, and getting one of the Castle clan hurt? Stupid. Very, very stupid. She'd had to get between the three of them before it turned into another homicide case. Slaughter had looked quite shaken at the end, impressive. She'd easily convinced him to go back to the Precinct. She didn't get a turn to loose her fury at him, but with a verbal beating like that from the Castles? The job was basically done.
She heard a door open and her head jerked up to see a doctor smiling at them, "The operation was very successful. Mr. Castle will need a while to recover, but in time he'll be as good as new."
Beckett released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, mirrored by Martha and Alexis. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to be the next cold, lifeless, and bandaged body she'd have to watch go into the earth. He was alive. He'd be fine. And for right now, that's all that mattered.
"Can we go in and see him yet?" asked Alexis quietly, sounding many years younger than she was as she stood up.
"Of course you can, Miss Castle," said the doctor, "However… Miss Beckett, is it? Miss Beckett will have to wait. Hospital rules."
"Why?" struck up Martha with a surprising amount of bravado considering what she'd just gone through,
"I'm sorry Miss Rodgers," said the doctor, "But the rules state only significant others or family of the patient may go in at this hour. However, when it's visiting hours again Miss Beckett will certainly be allowed in."
"My son and Beckett might as well be married," said Martha. Beckett startled. What? What had that woman just said? She gaped at Martha in shock, her expression mirrored in Alexis's face as well. The doctor faltered a moment.
"I'm sorry but what?" exclaimed Beckett, turning to look at Martha, who kept a perfect poker face regardless.
"I-I'm sorry ma'am but rules are rules…"
"Martha, it's all right," Beckett said, laying a hand on the older woman's arm, barely restraining her confusing wreck of emotions, "I'll come as soon as it's open."
"If you think you'll be all right," sighed Martha.
Beckett nodded, and steeling her resolve not to turn around and demand she be let in like some sort of spoiled child she walked through the white corridors of the hospital. She hated herself for leaving, for letting him follow that case, for trusting Slaughter, for the words said that night in his office… for everything. But for right now, she just grit her teeth and thrust out into the dark streets of the city towards her car to head on home.
She took a deep breath as she stared at the smooth metal surface of the door to his loft. It's cool surface had greeted her many a time before, but never in this sort of situation. Never to apologize for a poor past decision. Taking a deep breath, she hesitantly knocked on the door, almost not expecting an answer.
The door opened, and she was met with a first cheery, then stormy Richard Castle.
"Do you need something, Detective?" he asked, voice matter-of-fact and cold.
"I… can I talk to you for a second?" she said, feeling like a teenager getting reprimanded by her father after sneaking out one night too many, an hour too late. His eyes flicked between emotions, eventually settling on that hurt-anger-disbelief-pain he'd had when they had fought in her apartment the day Montgomery died. He began to close the door but she whipped out a hand and stopped it before it could close all the way, gazing up at him through the space she managed to pry open.
"Please, Rick," she said quietly, "Please…"
He glowered down at her, and she saw him swallow hard. A moment of tense silence later he finally spoke.
"Come in. We can talk in the office," he said, whipping around and heading off towards his office. She followed him, nerves tingling and anxiety high. She'd have to tread carefully on this one. They walked into his darkened office and he turned a handful of lights on, leaving the office mostly in shadows.
"Why?" he asked, voice soft as she closed the office door behind her. The raging anger she had expected was nowhere to be seen. He was all hurt and betrayal, and it burned even more than anger could ever have. Anger would have been like a blazing fire. But this? This was like acid, slowly burning down her resolve and soul. He spoke again, "Why?"
"I… I…" she stammered out, trying to find the words, "I wasn't… strong enough. Not yet. Both physically and mentally. I just wanted to be everything for you that I can be, and I can't be that until that wall inside of me goes down."
"Yes, we've been through this," he said, voice edged with bitterness. She took in a sharp breath, garnering all of the stoic strength she used in her job.
"And I just wasn't… ready. And I just… I'm so, so sorry for hurting you," she said, biting her lip. Great explanation Kate. Great job. A+. His face changed to sadness for a moment before flipping right back to that immense pain.
"Are you ever going to be ready though?" he said, blue eyes staring her down. She stared at him in astonishment. Is that was he thought? Is that what she thought? Was she? Would she ever be ready? Would she ever deem herself ready enough or would they just end with one of them dead and the other left to a life of regret? She balked at the thought.
"You know what I think?" he said, standing up from where he'd been sitting on his desk, stepping towards her, "You're afraid. Afraid of someone getting behind that all powerful wall of yours, of getting under that armor. You're afraid of what you are underneath it. Scared of love. Scared of commitment. So you did the only thing you could: run away. Instead of facing your feelings and fears like the woman I thought you were, you just turned tail and ran. And the only way you could run away from this? Lie and avoid the one person to managed to get pass that so-called wall, hiding under the covers of your mom's murder, leaving me no reason not to believe that you blamed me for your shooting as much as I still blame myself. And now… now no reason to believe you lied because you don't feel the same way."
"Castle that's not what I meant at all-" she managed to blurt out, staring at him with a mix of anger of calling out her weaknesses so bluntly and horror that he thought she blamed him for the shooting. And not loving him? No… that couldn't be farther from the truth. No…
"Of course it wasn't," he said, hollowly laughing, "Of course it wasn't. Of course you were too blind in your flight from… from love to see how this would affect anyone else. Cowardly of you."
"Excuse me?" she said, fighting power rising up from somewhere in her, "What did you just say?"
"Cowardly of you," he said, "To run instead of facing the truth. Instead of facing emotions… instead of acknowledging their existence, you found it better to lie to your… your partner," he spat out the word, "How does a loyal, honest, justice-obsessed detective go so bad? When does selfishness become key to living? When does fortifying your heart become more important than emotion? Since when is emotion a poison? I guess it was all a lie, then. Just an illusion in my head. I'm such a fool, doomed to betrayal from all the people I trust in life. Unless you care to explain again, if you can bear to be truthful about why you'd lie to me like that."
During his cold analysis of her she found herself falter, the fighting strength sapped from her. She'd stepped back at every word, like each was a stinging slap across the face, and was currently backed against his office wall. Probably some depressing irony in that somewhere. This was a side of him she'd never seen. Never. This… this was a twisted version of the man who cracked her whole backstory after knowing her for but a few hours. She reached up, swiping at two rebellious tears that must've fallen at some point. Damn. Again, really? His face faltered as he saw the tears, seeing a flash of a need to comfort and the partnership they had once had before his face frosted over again.
"You want to know why?" she choked out, taking a tentative step towards him, "You want to know the truth? The why behind my apparently apocalyptical lie? The why you always want behind everything, no matter how trivial or dangerous? You want to know the absolute truth?" she said, needing all of her training to keep her voice level and not breaking left right and sideways.
"Well, that might be a good place to start," he said coldly.
She matched his piercing glare, tossing aside the more flowery way she had thought on saying this. What they needed right now was complete simple honesty, as that's what she'd withheld from him.
"Because I… damnit, Rick," she said, a semi-hysterical laugh coming out, "I love you. I love you, all right? I love you more than I've ever loved before, and you're right. It scares the crap out of me. The last time someone got this ingrained into my heart it was my mother, and we both know how that ended. A massive hole in my heart that never really got better. I'm scared of that pain, that crushing grief… you don't know what it's like, Rick. To lose someone like that. Losing you… if we fell apart, if it fell apart because of me and my issues, I don't think I'd ever move on, Rick."
"And just…. I lied, I lied because of that. If I lost you because of my confusion at the time… hell, even my confusion right now, I just wouldn't be able to go on. I am begging you, I can get down on my knees if you still don't believe me, to please at least consider… consider everything. Please, Rick."
His eyes were a flurry of emotions, flitting from shock to anger to a need to comfort her (oh god, was she seriously crying again?) to that look that was just the sheer complicated love that was them… and she had just said she loved him. To his face. No excuses, no barriers, nobody on the ground dying. Just them, and the confession that hung in the tension-clad air between them. She'd jumped over that cliff. Hopefully there'd be a soft landing at the bottom.
They remained standing there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Cheesy yes, but it was the best way to describe it honestly. Those blue eyes of him seemed to be piercing into her soul. They both let out a heavy breath, ever in sync.
"I," he started, "I…"
"Castle," she sighed, "You… you aren't obligated to forgive me right now, or even at all, you know."
"I know," he breathed, "I… can you give me some time to figure this out? I'll contact you before three months pass though," he added hurriedly.
"Of course," she said quietly, "I sure know what it feels like to need space, huh. But… you… we can work it out. No more secrets. No more lies."
Something flickered across his face that she couldn't place. What was wrong? There wasn't something else, was there? No, she was being ridiculous. He wouldn't lie, not him. Not to her. And what was there to lie about between them now? She was being silly. After the brief pause he nodded.
"Yes… I'll call you," he said, looking distant.
"I should go," she said, looking at the time.
"Of course," he said, leading her out. With a final glance at a lost looking Castle and the loft, she turned down the hallway and left. This would be a rough stretch of time.
Whilst lost in the memory she had gotten herself into her loft and onto her couch, one hand wrapped around her phone, the other playing with the chain around her neck. Right. Ring. Watch. Gun. Might be a good idea to take those off. It must've slipped her mind when she was thinking. She hauled herself up and placed the items into the bureau, drawing a deep breath. What a whirlwind couple of weeks, huh. First the bomb, her admission, then the British agent from across the lake who admittedly made her heart flutter a little… she wasn't going to deny that Simon Hunt was hot, and British accents… well, they were attractive for her. Castle and she had argued over this attraction to Hunt and her going undercover at a ball for a while, pretty heated arguments too. Guess the tension was still high after her secret blew up in their faces. And now this. He lay stabbed in a hospital wing and she was just an emotional wreck. Wonderful.
They had never really gotten around to talking about that night. It hung over them heavily though, and the team was, of course, suspicious. Lanie had badgered her when the British fellow showed up, and they'd had a girl's night at her place. And had they had fun that night or what? Talked about the guy problems in their lives for what must've been at least an hour, got drunk, had some fun… Something neither of them had gotten to do in long time. It had been nice. Given her a sense of normalcy again, you know? And normalcy was something that was completely gone after the bomb case hit. Though honestly, when had normalcy ever been in her life?
As she began to settle back into her couch- little chance of her sleeping that night- her phone went off. She picked it up and saw that it was Martha. Her mind jumped immediately to the worst case scenario as usual. He had died, the doctors actually missed something when they did the operation. He was bleeding out… that he didn't want to see her in the morning. That he was waiting for her on a cold gray slab. That he didn't want anything to do with her. That they'd have to plan a funeral. That he was angrier than ever with her.
"Hello?" she said, hoping she didn't sound as anxious as she felt.
"Hello Kate," said Martha on the other end of the line, "Richard is doing fine, before you jump to him dying or something ridiculous like that."
She let out a small sigh of relief.
"The doctors have agreed to let you come in and see him, even though it's against those silly hospital rules of theirs," said the older woman.
"And why… why is that?" she asked, getting up and scrambling for her shoes and bag, managing to not drop her phone in the process as she hurried out the door, "Not that I'm against coming of course."
"Well, he's well enough to badger the doctors to a point of insanity, insisting that you visit," said Martha, chuckling a bit. She could hear the faint sounds of Castle protesting something in the background, too faint for her to understand. The older woman continued, "And just to shut him up the doctors have been kind enough to let you visit. I may or may not have had a hand in that decision."
Beckett laughed, "I'll be right over."
"See you soon, Kate," said Martha, and Beckett placed the phone down onto her car's dashboard. She attempted to stay calm as she rushed out into the near-empty streets of the city, tempted to throw the gumball on. There was no real point though; there was hardly any traffic this early on a Sunday in a low-tourist season. And anyway, it would be unethical.
Her mind wandered as she meandered through the streets. He had been asking for her. Asking for her to the point of the hospital breaking protocol just to get him to shut up. Yes, he could be very persuasive but… the fact that he'd been so determined to see her… No. No, he surely just wanted to hear about the case. Surely he just did it because Martha told him to do it.
Her expectations were kept low by her dismal thoughts and she soon found herself staring at the door to his room once more. She winced at the oppressive stark whiteness of the hospital, of the prison she was trapped in for weeks after her shooting. Miserable couple of weeks that was. Hospitals would never, ever seem good to her after that ordeal. She'd already disliked them too after catching pneumonia in 5th grade and being stuck in a hospital barely able to breathe, not to mention bored out of her mind. The hospital was death, boredom, agonizing pain… bad memories.
She desperately tried to calm her frantic nerves. No, no, no, this panicky breakdown mode wouldn't do. She pulled her scattered brain back as best she could, wondering briefly if she should have brought flowers or something before walking in... he'd understand. Pulling open the door, she froze at the sight of him. His face was pallid, hair disheveled. His breathing was shaky, even though the doctors claimed nothing too drastic had happened to his ribs or lungs. Just minor bruising- though it sure didn't look minor. Tubes stuck out of his free arm, the other arm swathed in endless bandages and slings and what not. But he was alive. Alive. Not bleeding out onto the cold floor. Not dead and surrounded by yellow police tape. Alive, and surrounded by his family who had just noticed her presence.
His blue eyes spotted her and lit up, a weak smile taking over his face. Alexis and Martha stood up, greeting her cheerfully. Martha excused the two of them, and now alone, Beckett kneeled down next to the bed where Alexis had been earlier.
"Hey," he said, "How do I look?"
"Hey yourself," she said, "Terrible."
"Can always trust you to be… honest," he said, pausing for a while before saying the word. Her heart clenched as she was dragged back to the memories of their fight… fights? She bit her lip to keep the breakdown at bay.
"Kate?" he said quietly, nudging her with his leg, "You there?'
"I'm so sorry," she breathed, a hand tentatively reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face, "For lying. For hurting you. For not doing more about Slaughter. For not doing more. For everything."
"Don't be," he said.
"No," she said, shaking her head, "You have every right to be mad at me. Why aren't you angrier with me? I haven't even forgiven myself yet, looking back at that decision."
"I'm not going to change your mind about how much I 'should' forgive you, am I?" he said, giving her a look as she shook her head.
"No," she said, "You won't. And it's okay."
After a moment's pause he spoke again, "Are you okay?"
"You're asking me?" she said, laughing, noting that her hand had absentmindedly taken his, "But… I don't know how I feel right now. This past month has been quite the rollercoaster ride, you know? And I just want you to know that I… I don't regret what I said. That what I said, the thing we've been avoiding for the past month… I don't regret it."
"Are you avoiding saying it again for your sake or mine?" he asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm.
"I… I think we've both danced around the subject for long enough now," she said.
"We have," he said, pausing and smiling, "Why does it always take near death for us to talk about things? I mean come on, what's it gonna take next? A tiger on fire in your sinking car in a frozen Hudson river with us trapped inside said car?"
They shared a bizarre moment of laughter over the image only they would understand the feeling behind, stopping when he coughed a few times. She shot him a concerned look but he waved her on to continue.
"I don't know," she said, "But… are you…I'd understand if you still need space. I sure know about needing space to think. You'd be justified. Even if you need to not see me for a year. I mean I think we've both had our share of bad judgments. And you deserve time to think. I've certainly learned plenty about needing time to think."
The words she was speaking hurt, they really did. But he needed to know that he didn't need to be the one always forgiving and apologizing. He had a right to be angry, and that feeling wouldn't be good bottled up inside of him. Oh, look at what she was thinking now. Who's the hypocrite? She was.
"Kate," he sighed, "It hurt that you lied. It really did. You had reasons, reasons I still struggle to understand, but that's in the past. And… I'm willing to wait as long as you need."
His eyes were sad as they looked at her, and she recoiled in shock. Wait for her? She was waiting for him to think about all that had happened! Why was he giving her more time? Shouldn't that be the other way around? That wasn't right. For either of them.
"How much longer do we have to wait, Rick?" she said quietly, "I… what if something happens before then? What if I'm on the job and something happens? What if you're hurt again? What if we aren't so lucky? I… I don't understand why you aren't angrier, Rick."
"Kate," he said softly, "It's all right."
"No, it's not," she said, pulling back, "I… I just don't understand why you can deal with seeing me, that's all."
"Because we're partners," he said, and she turned her head to look at him curiously, "We're going to go through rough times, Kate. What really matters is how we get through them. Our… whatever this is right now, these hardships can only make it stronger. Though if you want me to be outrageously angry at you for lying due to the reasons I can't still understand…"
"You see Rick?" she said, standing, "I… if you don't get why I did it still I don't want you feeling like you have to forgive me, have to accept this because of who you've always been in this partnership, whatever this is. Just because I apologized it… it doesn't make it better. You're allowed to be hurt, you're allowed to be angry. And we both have a lot of issues right now, and I just…"
"I know that, Kate," he said, "But I'll understand the why someday. And I want you to be there during that someday."
"I… but what if…"
With surprising strength, considering he only had access to one arm, he pulled her into him, lips meeting gently. She threw her arms on either side of him, catching her weight before she fell onto his battered chest. She sighed into the surprise kiss, his lips feeling like a wave of satin regardless of everything he, they, had just gone through. After a few blissful moments she pulled away, a smile akin to a teenage girl's after her first kiss spreading all over her face.
"Now that we're both on the same page," he said gruffly, "I just want you to know that I love you, Katherine Beckett."
Even looking half dead, the sincere look in his eyes warmed her heart like he had once upon a time, all those years ago when she was a fangirling detective bringing him in for questioning. Forget boundaries. Forget walls. She was ready to just dive off the edge of the cliff into the water below. This was right. This was real.
"I love you too, Rick," she breathed, brushing a hand over his cheek gently. She frowned as he tried to stifle a small yawn, "You need to rest."
"I've rested enough…" he mumbled out even as his eyelids fluttered, "Don't need to sleep…"
"No, you need rest," she said firmly, pulling back as he tried to pull her back to him, "We still have things we need to talk about, Castle."
He sighed, blinking tired blue eyes at her again, "Be here when I wake up?"
"Of course. We can… talk once you're better," she said hesitantly. He nodded, giving in to the grip of sleep, she watching as his breathing became slow and regular. She stood as his family walked in.
"Assume you two made up?" said Martha, a knowing smile on her face, "Everything all right?"
She nodded, "As well as we'll ever be."
"Of course, darling. Do you have a plan for what you're doing until the morning?"
"Uh… I don't, actually," she said, sighing, "Castle asked me to be here when he wakes up but I wouldn't want to impose. I can't imagine what you had to go through to get them to let me in here, let alone staying for the night."
"Oh no darling it wouldn't be a problem," said Martha, smile growing, "I actually already talked that lovely young gentleman outside into letting us stay here and getting us something to rest on besides that dingy old couch."
Alexis passed by Beckett, putting an overnight bag she must've fetched at some point down, whispering, "More like terrified into submission…"
Beckett laughed at the girl's comment, and Martha raised an eyebrow at them.
"Exaggerating again, Alexis?" she said, "Just like your father. But Kate, it's truly not a problem. You're family."
Her heart warmed at the woman's words, a grateful smile growing on her face, "Thank you."
Martha waved her off as nurses pulled in the makeshift beds. After a few minutes of shoving around pillows and blankets they all settled down, turning off the lights. For a while she just watched the monitors alongside Castle's bed, watching the steady blue pulse on the screen, the steady beeping that proved his heart still beat. It soon lulled her into a surprisingly peaceful, sleep, void of knives, murders, and shootings.