Thanks to AllusionToAnIllusion for editing.
j'attaque
Hard pressed on my right; my left is in retreat. My center is yielding.
Impossible to maneuver. Situation excellent. I am attacking.
General Ferdinand Foch
That's one thing about Kate Beckett. She never, ever, ever gives up.
Castle's been by her side since the moment that cassette tape fell out of her desk ornament. She's been ablaze. Alive. Keen. Eyes glittering, her whole body taut with attention.
Rick's seen her stand toe to toe with evil before. But it's never been like this.
When she strides into that interview, he catches a glimpse of the Kate Beckett who might have existed before Johanna's death. The Kate Beckett who was never afraid. Who knew she had won.
She's a living, breathing, glowing goddess of war as she watches the handcuffed senator disappear into DC traffic. Castle pulls her into his arms, and he wraps his arms and all his love around this woman whose whole being is so alight with adamance and relief that she's more beautiful in this moment than she's ever been.
She doesn't break down until she finally sees her father.
They're at One Police Plaza, on a bench outside the hundred thousandth interview room, quietly holding hands, when the elevator opens to reveal Jim Beckett. "Katie. Katie."
"Dad."
She stumbles and falls into her father's arms like a rag doll, crumpling against him, choking on sobs like Jim is, the two Becketts.
Castle stands back, watching this broken little family. He knows too much not to understand. His whole body aches for them, for the man who lost the love of his life and then nearly lost himself, and for the wisp of a girl who had no choices but still chose to fight.
He can hear Jim whispering something into his daughter's hair, something that's probably I love you or I'm so proud of you or Your mother, and it's all too much.
He's about to leave, step back, give them a moment to be together, when he hears her voice, so quiet he almost misses it. "Castle."
He turns. She's holding out one hand, smiling at him through red-rimmed, tired eyes.
So he lets her pull him into their little family moment, the embrace, wrapped in one big hug so tight he really is one of them now.
It feels like another lifetime by the time they finish giving statements.
The three of them go back to Jim's place for dinner. Castle feels for the man - he had to sit and watch the news, see his beloved daughter branded a murderer, not knowing what had happened or how to help her.
No one has the mundane focus to cook anything, because toppling sociopathic murderous senators is not conducive to baking or roasting, so they order pizza and eat and Jim tells stories about Johanna.
"Tenacious. Really. The woman was a tiger," Jim chuckles. "We were on a date once, at this bar with a dartboard, and she beat fifteen guys in a row at darts. I thought they were going to throw us out."
Castle looks down at Kate, who's settled back in his arms, Johanna's equally tenacious daughter who smiles as she listens to her father tell stories she's undoubtedly heard before.
When they finally head for the door, Jim catches Castle by the arm.
"Son. You saved my daughter's life." His eyes blur. "I can't even begin to thank you."
It's closer to sunrise than sunset by the time they get to bed. The quiet loft seems like its own world.
Kate curls up in his arms, so soft and limp, the perfect opposite of the warrior woman who just single-handedly crushed one of the most powerful men in America. And all through sheer, stubborn refusal to admit defeat. Outnumbered, outgunned, out-monied, and Katherine Beckett simply wouldn't not fight.
"Kate."
"Mmm?" She nuzzles his chest.
"You know we still have a wedding to get through?"
She chuffs a shaky laugh into his shoulder. "Yeah."
"I'll never complain about visiting florists again."
"Hmmph." She props her head on her hand. "Yes, you will."
She brushes a kiss to his mouth, and suddenly Castle can't help himself. He kisses her back hungrily, chasing her mouth, a kiss that's hard and too desperate to forget that icy chill that gripped him when he found her lying motionless in that hallway.
Kate threads her fingers through his hair, whispering into his mouth. "Castle. Rick. It's okay. It's okay."
He lets out a long, shaky breath. Because it almost wasn't.
"Kate." He doesn't know how to say it. "Kate, I just - "
"I know." She burrows against his chest again. "I know."
She's a fighter. She fights. She doesn't stop. Not until it's over and she's exhausted and falling into his arms (and his bed) and letting him hold her close because he loves her more than pretty much anything.
"I love you."
She scraped her fingernails gently against his chest. "I love you too."
He shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair, and dozes off just as the pale rays of sunlight start to glow.