The Owl and the Raven
Disclaimer: I still don't own it, and I am back to being a poor student with bills, so I'm even less worth suing.
AN: This is a season eight story. If you hate everything about season eight, you're probably not going to like this. Consider this your escape hatch. A Castle Halloween Bash entry.
Kate should be surprised at how easily she's drawn to him in the large, unfamiliar crowd. But she isn't. No mask can hide the familiar form of his body, the shade of his too familiar eyes behind it.
She makes her way to him, the whole thing like autopilot, magnetic, her white gown flowing around her. It has soft ripples of tule, meant to give the air of feathers. It matches perfectly the plumed masked of a snowy owl that she chose, because she knew, without a word about it having to be spoken between them that he would be dressed in black, a raven. Of course he was. she'd known.
It isn't until she sees the way that his eyes spark, the way his mouth drops slightly open when he sees her that she realizes the full effect of the picture that she makes, that they make together. How very bridal it is. She blushes. That wasn't her plan. It really wasn't. She'd wanted only for them to complement each other tonight. but this was - more.
"You're beautiful," his voice is whisper that makes her duck her head, even behind her mask. She swallows before she looks up to meet his eyes beneath the small opening of his own.
"So are you," she murmurs back at him. It's cheesy, but God help her, she means it. He's dark and broad, imposing and delicious. She could lose herself in him, and she wants to, so much.
For a long breath she somehow knows that they are both holding, neither speaks. And then, he breaks it.
"I didn't think you were coming," he offers.
She shrugs. Tule rustles and the feathers on her mask bob. "I didn't see any reason for people to start asking questions." Hadn't seen any reason to have Page Six start running rumors of a marriage on the rocks, the third for him. She's hurt him with this, but to let the world use it to diminish him? She won't allow it. She can't protect him from her own failings, doesn't know if she can protect him from the monsters behind this, but she can protect him from the gossip.
He must see it, the steel of the conviction in her eyes, because he physically relaxes. "Thank you."
"Always."
It hovers between them in the air, warm and promising.
He gestures toward the area where others are mingling. "Champagne?"
She nods, letting him lead her. For the next hour, they mingle, Kate carefully maneuvering the ins and outs of his public life that she had only really begun to master when the complexities of her own life had come crashing down on them both. They smile for every camera flash, and for the first time, she doesn't feel as if she is playing a part. It's the ultimate irony.
But, then his hand is at her back, steering, and she lets him. She's been steering all these weeks without his input and she will let him take charge tonight, while he can, while its safe.
They end up on the balcony of the old hotel, the view of the city a beautiful spectacle on the cold October night. Without a word, he slips his heavy, warm coat over her bare shoulders. She turns to him with a smile of thanks, and then they stand side by side, gazing into the darkness.
"I'm sorry," she says softly. I know I'm hurting you...and I don't want to, Castle."
He sighs. "I know, Kate. I know. I don't understand everything that's happening, but I get enough of it to know that much. You're not malicious. Never have been."
He's more generous than she feels she deserves. She doesn't know what to say in the face of that, her heart in her throat.
"I didn't know what to think in the beginning. I assumed I wasn't enough."
She turns to him, objection ready, but he holds up a quelling hand, and she quiets. She won't force it, remembers her promise to herself to let him lead tonight.
"But you see, I remembered that I've made that assumption before. And I was wrong."
"What?"
"When I found out you remembered the shooting. At first, I thought," he takes a deep breath, "I thought it was because you didn't love me back. That you wouldn't tell me because you wanted me to stay, so you were just stringing me along so I wouldn't leave."
Her stomach rolls. She stares openly at her husband, but he's looking down, a faraway look in his eyes.
"It seemed so cruel. And I was hurt. So, I was cruel back. I threw emotional punches - a flight attendant, another cop, held leaving over your head. And words, Kate. The words are my specialty, and I wielded them like weapons you couldn't even understand. I did that. And it occurs to me, when it all came out? The way that it happened meant that I never explained why. I never said I was sorry."
She puts her hand on his shoulder. "I gave you plenty of reason, Rick. And it was years ago."
He turns to her, his masks down now, physical and emotional both. "Yes. But the point is, it's my way to lash out when I've been hurt. Normally, that's how it works for me. But you're the opposite. You close up inside when it hurts. Make yourself the smallest possible target. And you take the weight of the world all on yourself. And you hurt the people you love, Kate. You really do."
Tears prick the corners of her eyes as his finally meet them.
"But you don't do it intentionally. It's just how you respond to pain. And the truth is, you hurt yourself even more in the process."
"Castle -"
He reaches out in the scant space between them, grazing warm fingertips at her jawline. "I don't know why this is happening. I don't know what's hurting you. And I wish that you'd let me help, because I would do whatever it takes to make it stop. I don't like that you won't let me, I don't like any of this at all. And it hurts. But I love you, Kate. And as much as I wish you could believe that I'm strong enough to help you carry this -"
"Not you're strength that worries me, Babe. I'm the one who isn't enough for this."
"You're enough for me," he says, so quiet and earnest that it breaks her heart a little more.
She throws her arms around his neck and holds on. "I know, Castle. I know. And I love you for it," she whispers against his ear.
He holds her against him for a long time, rocking them both gently so that her skirt swishes as they move. When he pulls away, his voice is lighter.
"Do you know what I love about Halloween?"
She smiles fully. "Tell me."
He picks up both of their masks from where they lay forgotten. "Behind the safety of a mask, or in the anonymous embrace of a costumed character, we can put down all the other masks life forces us to wear, and be our truest selves, if only for one magical night."
His blue eyes sparkle with infectious joy.
"So, just for tonight? I want to dance with my wife. I want to twirl her around the ballroom floor in her beautiful white gown, and forget all the past mistakes, the moments we've missed, and the hard times to come. In the spirit of Halloween magic."
"And the magic of us," she says, eyes bright, letting herself believe.
He nods, extending his hand. "Shall we?"
And though she can not allow herself to let him shoulder her burden, she allows him to take her hand and lead them. Out onto the dance floor for a night where they can just be their truest selves: black and white, husband and wife, the owl and the raven - love flowing between them as freely as her gown flows around her on the dance floor - enveloped in the misty, ephemeral magic of Halloween night.