Love the One You Hold
A Season 3/4 AU
This was inspired by a little tagfic I wrote on this post: bunysliper do t tumblr .c o m (slash) post/151478983856 which then took on a life of its own.
I know I tried
I was not stable
And flawed by pride
I miss my sanguine eyes
So hold my hands up - breathe in and breathe out
- "Lover Of The Light," Mumford and Sons
His daughter will kill him when she finds out what he's been planning, but he can't watch her do this to herself any longer. He can't watch his child grimace and gasp in pain, even though she tries so hard to hide it from him. He can't watch his little girl grow more distant, crawling deeper within herself with every passing day.
He can't continue to watch Katie stare at her phone but refuse to use it.
If she isn't going to call, isn't going to reach out to someone, he'll do it for her. She had given him a boost – a shove, really – when he had needed it most, when he had hit rock bottom and couldn't see a way to climb out of his pain and his misery, and now he's doing the same for her. She'll be pissed, she may well rail against him (God knows he did all those years ago), but he has to believe his plan is for the best.
On a quiet, cool morning in early July, Jim Beckett steps out onto the knotted wood porch of his cabin and does what his daughter can't or won't do for herself: he calls Richard Castle.
The writer picks up after just a few short rings, the jovial nature of his greeting doing nothing to hide the anxiety behind his words.
"Jim, what a surprise. How is… everything?"
"Katie's been better," he cuts through it, answering the question his daughter's unconventional partner didn't ask. "But I was hoping you would be able to help change that."
When no response comes, Jim pulls his phone away from his ear, checking to be sure the call hasn't dropped or disconnected on him.
"I'm…" Rick starts after a moment. "Kate asked for some time for herself; I've been trying to respect that."
Jim shakes his head. His stubborn, hardheaded daughter. "It's been a while, Rick. I think you've kept your end of the bargain."
"I know, I was, well I was hoping she would call when she was up to it. It's okay that she hasn't, of course," Rick continues, hasty to avoid putting blame on Katie's shoulders. "She was injured, she needed time – still needs time, I guess. I just–"
He just has feelings for Katie, strong feelings. Feelings that Jim's daughter won't allow herself to admit she reciprocates.
"Do you know what one of the first things Katie told me about you was?"
Rick goes silent again, which Jim takes as an invitation to follow up,
"That you were obnoxious and arrogant, and you didn't listen to a word she said."
Castle offers a quiet chuckle. "Not exactly a ringing endorsement, Jim. Though not entirely untrue."
"Maybe not, but as much as you annoyed her, you also challenged her. And to be honest with you, I think that brought out a part of her that she had spent a long time trying to put away."
"Oh."
Jim licks his lips, checking over his shoulder to ensure his daughter hasn't somehow made her way outside to witness the statement he's about to make.
"And you should challenge her again this time. If you're not busy, I think you should come for a visit."
"To… Kate's apartment?" Hesitance and hope war in the writer's voice, drawing Jim's lips into a small smile. Katie's silence may confuse and frustrate him, but Rick's still someone who cares for her deeply.
"We're at my cabin upstate. I'll send you the address and directions. I think it would be good for you both. The weather is good, too."
As if mother nature wants to emphasize his point, a breeze drifts along the driveway, fluttering over his forearms and dancing across the trees. Jim watches the branches sway, giving Rick a moment to think about his offer.
"That sounds nice," Castle admits. "But I'm not sure the good doctor would agree. And for the sake of keeping the peace, maybe I should–"
"I don't think the good doctor has a say in the matter," he interrupts, putting an end to the writer's doubts. Katie hasn't outright said that things are over with the surgeon, but before she was discharged, Jim had walked into her hospital room in time to hear them exchanging a rather definitive sounding farewell.
"Oh."
"Look, Rick, it's up to you, but if you happen to find yourself driving this weekend, you're welcome to point your car in this direction."
"I'll… keep that in mind, thank you. If I do, is there anything you need? Anything she needs?"
Another breeze kicks up, knocking the pipes of Johanna's old wind chime against one another, the melody riotous, yet gentle. Like Johanna herself.
"Well, we ran out of her favorite coffee last week, and the stuff the general store has isn't exactly the same."
Rick chuckles. "I think I can manage that."
"Good."
Behind him, the door creaks open, and he turns in time to see Katie take a careful step onto the porch. Her sweatshirt hangs loose on her body, as do the plaid pajama pants she wears, but with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he can see that her cheeks have more color than they did the day before. She eyes him for a moment before moving to sit on the porch swing.
"Thank you, Jim," Rick says, bringing his attention back to the call.
"Of course. I hope it works out," he murmurs, careful to avoid specifics in front of his daughter.
Rick seems to understand his sudden tact, but the younger man doesn't call him on it. "Me too."
Jim smiles, watching Kate nudge the swing into an easy rhythm. Her fingers curl around the edges of her sleeves, but he isn't sure whether it's a nervous gesture or because it's still chilly. "I'll talk to you soon."
He pockets the phone a moment later, moving away from the railing to settle beside his daughter. The swing groans under his weight – it always does – but the chains hold firm as they sway.
"Morning, sweetheart," he greets, receiving a short nod in return.
* - 8 - *
"You called Castle," Kate says a while later, breaking the careful silence that has settled between them.
He doesn't deny the accusation, but he also doesn't cop to the truth either. Instead he chooses to remain quiet, wait her out, gauge her feelings on the subject.
She sighs, raking her teeth over her lip. "Is he coming here?"
Jim looks over, wondering what's going through that head of hers.
"Dad? Is he coming here?" she repeats. There's a ragged, beseeching edge to her voice that he just doesn't understand. He probably never will, but he concedes anyway, dipping his chin.
"I don't know. I extended the invitation, but I don't know if he's going to take me up on it."
Her shoulders slump. "Oh."
"But if you want to see him, it wouldn't hurt to tell him that," he adds, leaping the rest of the way across the line between helping and blatant meddling. "It might make his decision easier."
Katie levels a glare in his direction. "Dad. I just – I need time, okay?"
"I know, honey, and if he does come and you're not up for a visitor, that's fine. I just had hoped that it might help. Having someone you care about here with you, having someone who isn't me to talk to."
She softens, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "I like talking to you."
"Well, yes, I am always good for conversation." His lips spread into a grin at her snort. Some things never change; she's still just as derisive as she was when she was when she was a teenager. "But don't you miss talking to other people? To Rick?"
Her hand settles against her chest, protective over the wound that nearly ended her life. He's seen that gesture a lot in the last few weeks, especially when she gathers her thoughts.
"He'll want to talk about what happened and I'm just not sure I want to relive it with him right now."
"And if all he wants is to see that you're doing better than you were in the hospital?" he murmurs, giving their swing a little push. The gentle rocking always soothed her when she was little, and it seems to do the trick now, too; she heaves a sigh, surrendering against him.
"Okay," Katie says, pressing her nose into the fabric of his shirt. "But if he tries to talk about it, or if he doesn't bring me that coffee, he's going home."
His lips turn up. Ah, so that's how she had made him. Curling his arm around her, Jim agrees.
Usually his road trips are a lot more fun.
Most of the time he sings and dances in his seat, making a fool of himself in front of anyone else on the road. Sometimes he even plays games. But today the drive is somber. Part of it is because he's alone, but the other part is apprehension. He is beyond anxious, and the hard look Alexis had given him as he left the loft with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder and a care package for Beckett in his other hand had done nothing to quell the flutter of nerves in his chest.
Two months. It's been two months since his partner had said she would call as he left her alone to rest. He would be lying if he said that it didn't still sting that she hadn't.
Suffice to say, he had been surprised when Jim Beckett's name appeared on his caller ID. He had been even more stunned when the other man had invited him to the cabin. All week long, he had debated whether he should take Kate's father up on the offer, had even decided against it a few times, but here he is, letting the hope of seeing her drive him upstate.
Of course, hope doesn't stop the knot from forming in his belly as the trees grow larger, the air fresher, the road a little more rugged. By the time he makes the turn off the highway, he has decided that he'll leave his overnight bag in the car and just approach the house with the things he's brought for Beckett. If she doesn't want him to stay, or if she won't see him, he'll leave the care package and head back into the city. And if she does allow him to stay, he can bring his bag in before bed.
All he can do is cross his fingers for the latter.
As focused as he is on making it to his destination, Castle can't help but enjoy the scenery, too. The town he passes is small, but not tiny. He has a feeling that the mom and pop grocery store he passes is the general store Jim had mentioned. It's not as quaint as he had been picturing, but not Whole Foods by any means.
It's definitely not New York, but when he rolls his window down and lets the breeze into the car, Rick can see why Kate wanted to come here instead of staying in the city. For the first time since Hal Lockwood escaped from custody, his breath comes easier and his shoulders relax.
His newfound tranquility only lasts until his tires hit the hard-packed gravel road that his directions tell him leads to the Beckett cabin, but he simply lowers the volume on the radio and steels himself for the welcome he might receive.
Eventually, the lush tree canopy gives way to a clearing of green grass and vibrant flowers. Rick gapes, taking in the sparkle of a lake less than a football field away, the painted wood cabin with a distressed, whitewashed porch, the swing making lazy arcs on its chains.
And the woman he loves.
His heart thunders against his sternum; she's waiting for him, watching his car roll to a stop beside the SUV he assumes to be Jim's. She's waiting for him, unmoving from her spot against the railing, even after he puts his car in park and pops the trunk. She doesn't come to him, doesn't wave or offer a greeting, but still she's there, tracking him silently as he grabs the smaller of his bags.
"Hey," he starts, crossing the driveway, stopping just as his toes bump the porch steps. "I heard you were in need of quality coffee, so I figured I'd make a quick trip out here to deliver some."
His partner's lips twitch, but she tamps it down as she straightens. He can't help but study her. She's thin – she's always been thin, of course, but now he's certain if her shirt weren't oversized, he would be able to see her ribs through her clothing. Her hair falls over her shoulders, but it lacks its normal luster. Even her eyes seem to have dimmed. She's still beautiful, so very beautiful, but she's not herself.
"My dad shouldn't have called you."
Rick's heart falls into his stomach, rippling disappointment through his limbs like a stone dropping in the lake over his shoulder. She wants him to leave.
"I'm sorry. I'll just drop this off with you and head back," he murmurs, running his tongue over his lips, dropping his gaze to the bag in his hands. "There's the coffee, of course, and some other stuff I thought you might like. Some candy, a book or two. A slinky. I almost brought you a cup of coffee, too, but then I figured it would be cold by the time I got here–"
"Castle," Beckett calls, cutting him off, forcing him to drag his eyes away from the reusable shopper and back to her. Her eyebrows lift in expectation, a flash of something he recognizes sparking over her face. "You gonna come up here or what?"
"I – but didn't you just say…"
She sighs, dropping a hand to the post at the top of the steps. "He shouldn't have called you, but," she pauses, pulling a deep breath into her lungs, "it's good to see you."
Relief surges through him, propelling him up the stairs to her. "It's good to see you, too," he breathes, taking her in, committing every curve, every sharp angle, every strand of hair to memory.
Kate's cheeks flush. Her head drops, hiding her face from him. "Stop looking at me like you're seeing a ghost, Castle."
"I'm sorry, it's just…" He's missed her. He's missed sitting by her desk, telling stupid jokes that make her purse her lips and fight to keep a straight face, hell, he's even missed fighting with her.
"Yeah. Still look pretty bad."
Not even close. Not compared to the last time he saw her, when there was a pallor to her skin that had reminded him far too much of some of the bodies he had seen on Lanie's autopsy table.
"No," Castle says, lifting a hand to push her hair away from her face. Beckett's eyes meet his, startled by his closeness, his touch, but she doesn't move to put distance between them. "Just happy you're here to see. That's all."
"Well if I hadn't been, it might have made this visit a little awkward. Unless you really wanted to see my dad."
Rick chuckles, watching gold bloom in her irises at his amusement. "Ah, well, don't tell him I said this, but you are the Beckett I came to see. Even if he is the one who invited me."
It's not much, but it makes her smile. "Your secret is safe with me, Castle."
"Speaking of Jim, whe–"
"The dock. He said something about fishing." She shakes her head, an affectionate smile on her lips. "If he catches something, it'll be dinner. If he doesn't, we have steaks."
"Either sounds good," he answers, assuming he's included in her 'we.' She'll tell him if he's not.
Kate nods. "Okay. Do you – how long are you staying?"
'How long are you?' is the first thing that springs to his tongue, but he holds it in, looking back toward his car.
"I packed for the weekend, but if you'd – if you don't want me to stay that long, I can go in the morning, or after dinner."
Beckett hums, taking the shopper from his fingers. Heat suffuses his face at the brush of her skin; he needs more of her warmth. "You brought me coffee?" she asks without looking in the bag for herself.
His head bobs. "I did."
"Okay," she says, turning toward the front door. "Go get your bag, Castle."
She wakes on Sunday morning cocooned in a blanket, Richard Castle in her bed. After her shouts had brought him running into her room during the night, he had opted to stay nearby – close but not too close – as she fought the harsh clutches of her nightmares. She has no idea when he had fitted her back to his chest and snaked his arm around her, but the solid weight is nice, just as comforting as his quiet presence had been.
He's made it easy this weekend, never pushing more than normal, never asking deeper questions than she's ready to answer. Of course, she still catches him watching her, but so far he has kept whatever is on his mind to himself.
He has been everything she's needed: a quiet presence, her partner, the man who loves her. All those things in spite of the fact that she's a wreck at the moment.
Taking a breath, Kate rolls onto her back, careful not to dislodge her slumbering companion's arm or elbow him in the face. The double mattress she's had since childhood isn't exactly made for two tall adults, especially not one as broad as Castle, but it works somehow. Rick snuffles in his sleep, splaying his fingers wide against the cage of her ribs, but doesn't wake, and she hides a smile behind her hand.
A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand tells her it's later than she normally sleeps. In fact, it's later than she has slept since she weaned herself off of the heavy duty painkillers. She should get up and do the stretches the physical therapist had recommended to work out the stiffness the mornings always bring, but with Castle's breath fluttering across her cheek, she's less motivated than usual.
Eventually, the need to relieve herself wins out, and she begins the process of extricating herself from the blankets and her bedmate's embrace. Her side twinges with the effort, but she's able to make it to her feet in silence, offering Castle a pillow as a replacement for her body.
She leaves the room on quiet feet, closing the door behind her.
There's no way her father isn't awake, but the cabin is silent save for the hum of the air conditioner, maybe a few birds in the distance. When she was a kid, she had found the silence boring, almost unbearable, but right now it helps.
It makes it easy to hear the moment Castle nearly rolls off her bed, too.
Smothering a smile, Beckett turns back to the coffeemaker, waiting until the drip slows to a stop to remove the carafe and pour two mugs. Her partner had prepared the coffee yesterday morning, had offered it to her with a hint of little boy shyness, and she wants to return the favor.
He lumbers into the kitchen a few minutes later, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. Affection tumbles in her belly, robbing her of the greeting she had been preparing; Rick Castle rumpled and sleepy is just plain adorable.
"Hey," she says, finding her voice. "Made you some coffee."
She holds out the mug to him, waiting to release it until his fingers wrap around the ceramic. Once she's sure he has it, she retreats for her own coffee.
"Thanks," he rumbles, disappearing behind the mug for a long moment.
Kate leans against the counter, watching the line of his jaw, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows.
"What?" he asks over the rim of his mug. "Did I dribble?"
His hand comes up, swiping across his chin. He hasn't shaved since he's been here, and her fingers itch to slip over his face, to commit the rasp of his scruff to memory.
Beckett shakes her head, lowering her eyes to study the hardwood floors. "No, no. You managed not to spill coffee on yourself again, Castle."
Her lips lift, the tease easy on her tongue. She has missed this. Missed the back and forth, the banter. Everything that has made them them.
"That's good. But that doesn't answer the question of why you were staring at me." He waits a beat before continuing, "Checking me out, Beckett?"
She snorts, lifting her coffee to her lips, hoping to hide the rush of blood to her cheeks.
"In your dreams, Castle."
His head tilts, lips twisting into that infuriating (sexy), sly smile of his. "Could be," he says, stepping closer. "Then again, my dreams do come true."
Kate lifts her chin, attempting to summon some of her old bravado, some of what has always worked for them. "Try fantasies, then."
Rick chuckles, reaching past her to settle his mug on the counter. "Have some of those, too."
"Believe me, I've read them," she drawls, wetting her lips.
He's so close, his hands hovering halfway between their bodies, waiting for her to give him some signal that she'll accept his touch. It makes her heart hammers against her ribs; he held her almost the entire night, and he's still waiting for her to give him the go-ahead.
"I'll have you know that some of that is merely creative license." His eyes dip, caressing her lips with the heat of his gaze.
"Mhmm, I'm sure." Her fingers flex around her mug. It would be so easy to list into him, to touch her mouth to the curve of his, to give into the warmth of hope in her chest, but she can't. Not just yet.
"Castle," she starts.
His eyes flash sapphire before they return to hers. He licks his lips, breathing her name on exhale.
"Kate–"
"Okay, Katie, I know you're tired of fish, but I got a bite on the first cast, and it was beautiful, so we're going to have lunch before Rick goes back to the ci-ty."
Castle practically jumps back, his hands flying into his pockets, guilt scribed across his features.
"Sure, Dad," Kate murmurs, lowering her chin. Her eyes seek her partner from under her lashes. "Fish is fine."
"Okay then, I'll start cleaning and prepping it," Jim says, glancing between them before stepping toward the back door. "Sorry for the interruption."
Subtle, Dad. Very subtle.
Shaking her head, she refills her coffee and steps away from the counter.
"Come on, Castle."
He blinks. "What?"
Glancing at the door, she hooks her fingers through his and tugs. "Let's get out of here for a bit."
* - 8 - *
Hours later, her stomach sinks when Castle murmurs that it's time for him to go. Since their walk, everything has been quiet and soft. Castle hasn't strayed far from her, hasn't made a nuisance of himself (not that he ever does, truly), and she's not ready for him to go just yet.
She stands with him, pressing her hand to her side. The scar hasn't pulled nearly as much as it usually does, and she can only attribute it to him. To the way he makes her laugh, the way he hasn't made her feel like she's anything less than what she was before.
"I'll grab the leftovers Dad's sending home with you."
"Thanks."
Castle offers her dad an easy smile. "Thank you again for letting me take the food, Jim. Alexis is going to love it."
"Thank you for indulging me, Rick. My daughter's patience for my fishing has worn thin."
Kate rolls her eyes, stepping around her father's recliner. "I'll meet you outside," she tells her partner.
Castle's waiting by his car when she steps out of the cabin. She watches his head swivel to take everything in before he leaves, watches his chest expand with his breath.
He smiles when he spots her. "Thanks, Beckett."
Confusion furrows her brow. What could he possibly be thanking her for?
"I would've forgotten the fish if you hadn't grabbed it," he continues, lifting a shoulder.
He wouldn't have, she knows. But she lets it go, plays along with the cover.
"Can't have you going hungry, Castle. Or Alexis."
He chuckles. "Well, it is kind of a long drive. Hopefully there will be some left for her."
Crossing the driveway, she settles the bag of leftovers on the passenger seat. He's watching her when she straightens a moment later, his gaze tender.
"I'm glad you came," she murmurs, coming around to his side of the car.
Castle stands taller, pressing his palm to the roof of the car as she steps around the open driver's side door.
"Me too. Glad you didn't tell me to get lost."
"I've told you to get lost at least a dozen times," she teases, cocking her head, "why would I bother telling you again? I know you're not going to listen."
Her partner laughs. "Fair enough. Because I won't."
"Good." She surprises them both by stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. Castle inhales, his chest hitching under her ear, but he returns the hug, holds her tighter.
"I'll see you soon?" he murmurs, dropping his cheek onto her hair.
"Yeah," she breathes, pressing her palms against the thin cotton of his shirt. He's solid against her, grounding. "Yeah you will."
Castle's chest rumbles under her ear. "Good."
Kate hums, letting the steady thump of his heartbeat soothe the wild flutter of her own.
"Let me know when you get home."
He nods. "I will. And… can we talk more after that? I mean, if you still need time, I understand, but–"
"Yeah," she agrees, lifting her head, cutting him off. "I'd like that."
He beams, calming the last of the storm raging in her belly.
"Me too."
She isn't where she wants to be, not yet, but she's getting there. She's getting there.
Before her courage can desert her, she exhales, lifting onto her toes to brush her mouth over his. It's barely a kiss, barely anything more than a whisper of her lips, but when she lowers to the ground and steps away, Castle looks like he just won the lottery.
"See you soon," she murmurs, pulling her lip between her teeth, watching him slip behind the wheel and fumble with his seatbelt.
"See you soon," he echoes. He pulls his door shut, still looking dazed as he starts the engine and prepares to drive away.
She waits until his Mercedes disappears from view to make her way back to the porch. Her father looks on, bemused, but he doesn't say a word as she joins him.
"Good weekend?" he asks finally, his voice warm, knowing.
"Don't say it," she warns, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
Her father chuckles, slipping his arm around her. "Say what? That I was right?"
"Dad."
"Katie," he teases, matching her low whine. "This is the first time you've looked anything other than pale and miserable since May, and I know part of it is because he was here. I think I've earned the privilege, wouldn't you?"
"Hush," she huffs.
"Are you happy?" he asks, ignoring her order.
She is. All things considered, she is. Her chest expands at the realization. There's no telling what the next few weeks will bring, but the aches have begun to subside, the fear has lessened, and she feels so much stronger than she has in months.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
Her dad nods, brushing his thumb over her arm. Together they watch the sway of the trees, letting the rustle of the leaves fill the silence.
"Then I told you so," he says, painting the wind with her mother's favorite phrase.
She sighs, but concedes that point.
And when Castle calls later that evening to tell her he's made it home safely, she not only answers, but they talk until his words slow, his breathing grows even, and she's able to picture his head on the pillow beside hers as she drifts into a dreamless slumber of her own.
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story!