A/N: Just something I'd love to see in the finale, no spoilers. (Except maybe a teeny tiny one about where they might have been filming one day, but otherwise this is totally just wishful thinking). AND TOTALLY PG HAHA WEIRD.
She fidgets in the car as she snakes her way through the cemetery parking lot, hands moving all over the steering wheel, the leg not pressing on the gas bouncing up and down at her side. He slides a palm down her thigh lightly, means it to be reassuring she thinks, but the feel of him so close is electric, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and she just wants this to be over with.
Her tires screech a little bit as she turns them into a parking spot, flicking off the engine smoothly and then sitting back into her seat. "We're here," she croaks unnecessarily, peels her other hand off the wheel with more effort than should be required. He pulls his hand away to unbuckle his seat belt. The sharp click of it echoes around the cab.
"Lead the way."
He's always following her, even now, even after everything.
She's still as a stone, with the exception of her jackhammering heart and the fingers twisting tightly in her pockets, as she and Castle stand side by side in the crispy grass, waiting. She clears her throat loudly, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the spaces in the tree above them. "Castle," she begins, the introduction sounding too practiced on her lips and strange out loud. She's thought of this about a hundred times but being here, being here with him is altogether different than she imagined it would be. She takes a deep breath and continues. "This is my mom."
She feels him shuffle beside her, press his arm to hers lightly. It's comforting, not pushy, and she holds her breath against the feeling of it as he inhales to speak.
"Hello Mrs. Beckett," he starts, polite and warm and it makes her choke up around a watery half smile because things aren't supposed to be like this, but as always Castle knows just how to cut the tension for her.
"You don't have to talk to her, Castle."
He scoffs a little, all what else would I do?
"What if I want to tell her about her brave, beautiful, extraordinary daughter?"
She opens her mouth to volley back at him but finds herself wholly unable, his sincerity in the face of all this ugly reality just a little bit too overwhelming.
"Hey," he starts, turning to face her finally, catching her eyes for the first time since they'd left the precinct. His hands rise up to her cheeks, cupping lightly for just a second before settling instead on her shoulders. She can tell he's unsure of where they stand exactly, but that's kind of the point of all this. A grand gesture. Her cards on the table.
Her body up off the cemetery grass.
"I've never brought anyone else here," she whispers hoarsely, clears her throat. "You're different." Her eyes slide from her mom's headstone to his face and everything just clicks inside of her head. She can do this.
(Come on Castle, keep up.)
"Different?" She can hear the hope in his voice, and also the trepidation, he's still being cautious and she wants him to know that he really doesn't have to be, not anymore.
"I still miss her so much." It's a detraction, a step to the side but she needs him to know what he does for her. "I…" her eyes are welling up again, and then she feels his hands tugging her, pulling her closer and into him, wrapping two heavy arms around her as she sinks her body into his chest and her face into his neck. Her hands are still tightly tucked into her own pockets, she's leaning on him completely, her only means of remaining upright is his body.
"Beckett…" he starts to say into her ear, but she needs to get this out.
"You make it so much better." Her confession breathes across the skin of his neck, and she imagines it soaking in, marking him, filling him up with the feelings she can barely keep in check. One of her hands frees itself from her pocket, the cool air chilling it as she reaches up to cup the side of his face, holding him to her, cheek to cheek now as she presses up on her toes just a little bit. She needs to be at his ear for this, needs to make sure he hears her. "I'm in love with you," she breathes.
The second the words leave her mouth, the hands he's got wrapped around her fist in the back of her jacket, crush her into him even further, an involuntary response that follows right behind his choked gasp. She tries not to cry in front of him (or on him), but she can feel the dampness on her own cheeks, knows he must be able to also. The hand he skates up her neck and into her hair steadies her, reminds her of another day. Another I love you.
"Say something," she begs quietly, thumb tracing down his earlobe, touching for the sake of touching.
"Finally." He doesn't even hesitate, and then she's puffing out a laugh against his cheek, eyes closed, feeling the relief radiating through her, through both of them.
He pulls away from her just far enough to see her face after a moment that seems suspiciously like swaying in the grass, and she thinks she can see herself reflected in his eyes, a part of him. He leans in to press a soft kiss against the tip of her nose, making her inhale sharply. They still haven't ever done this for real.
"Did you hear that?" he says suddenly, and Beckett's momentarily confused until he cuts his eyes to the headstone they're still standing in front of. He's not talking to her. Oh. "She loves me," he whispers, voice like a secret. An amazing, important, everything kind of secret.
She's smiling softly when he looks back to her, affection spreading through every inch of her body. He lets her go then, lets her fall back onto her own two feet, steady herself. He grabs her hand though, laces it with his own, but his other one is digging around in his pocket and coming up with something before she can even ask what he's doing. He steps forward just enough to reach out and gingerly place the tiny object on the top of the flat marble surface of her mom's headstone. It's a necklace.
"What is it?" she asks softly, peering over his shoulder as she presses herself into his back, fingers tightly linked between his. She can feel her own necklace weighing heavy against her chest.
"A St. Michael's medal, patron saint of – "
" – police officers," she finishes for him. "Castle, what?"
"After…after you got shot I bought it at the hospital gift shop. I…"
She holds her breath waiting for him to finish.
"I wore it for a long time, every day during the summer until I thought I wasn't going to see you again. Then I carried it in my pocket because I couldn't even stand to put it away, to put you away."
Her eyes well up again as she stares at the little pendent glittering in the afternoon sunshine. "All this time you've had that in your pocket?"
He gives her a self deprecating little half shrug half smile and she squeezes his hand tighter. "Just in case you needed it."
"I only need you," she blurts fiercely. His eyes widen at the same time hers do, she's caught them both off guard.
"Well good thing I just gave the necklace to your mom." He's a little choked up again, and she just nods at him, just wanting to say yes to everything about him. "Now you both have one."
She wishes she were strong enough to take the one from her own neck and put it down next to his.
"Let's go home, Castle." She nudges him with her shoulder and he starts walking back across the sunny grass and toward her car.
"My home or your home?"
"I don't care, as long as you're going there." She feels exhausted, like she needs to sleep for days, and crawling into a bed alone is not at all appealing.
She lets him open her car door for her, holds onto his fingers until she absolutely has to let them go, watches him walk around the hood to slide in beside her.
"I have fancy coffee at my place, or a bed."
She raises one eyebrow at him, starting to feel like her old self again. Her skin feels all tingly and new though, unknown. Fresh.
"For sleeping," he clarifies, shaking his head at her and reaching out to smooth his thumb underneath her eye.
"Too bad," she says as she turns to back out of her parking spot, catapulting them off in the direction of his loft. His hand falls from her face to her shoulder, casually keeping contact.
They're both smiling.