He sneaks away near the end of the multilingual gathering at his loft, throwing around excuses about last minute errands and leaving Alexis in charge of the soirée, but not without earning a knowing look from his mother. Always onto him. Castle manages to show up on the hotel room doorstep at a quarter to eleven, offering Kate an apologetic quirk of his lips when she eases the door open in nothing more than one of his shirts.
She doesn't like staying in a hotel very often, doesn't like meeting him here as if what they were doing was wrong (obviously, these clandestine meetings were beginning to lose a bit of their thrill), but it had been too risky to arrange a night the loft with so many people there for an indefinite amount of time. Kate stays at her old place with her cousin Sophia sometimes but it definitely made having him show up unfeasible. Besides, he loved this hotel with its spectacular view, the complimentary décor, and the room service was always a nice perk.
And nights in the exquisite suite with her were usually romantic, enough to have them both forgetting the location, forgetting about practically everything that was wrong, but tonight, Kate just looks tired and lonely and he suddenly feels guilty for hosting the party without her. She had worked on the case too, sought justice for the victim just as he had; they could have made up a believable excuse for her to show up.
"You okay?" She beats him to the question, locking the door behind him and placing her palm between his shoulder blades, some of the tension held there dissipating beneath her touch. Castle glances over to read her face, the frown lines etched into her clear skin, the concern swimming through the seas of her irises, and he wants to say yes, to assure her that he's fine.
But he's tired, the strain of this new reality they're living in always waiting until the day is done to rest heavily upon his shoulders, and the sudden memories from his time in Thailand, potentially Korea, have him rattled, half of his mind scrambling for explanation while the other yearns for him to leave it untouched, leave him in peace.
Kate's hand strays higher up his back until her fingers are curling at his nape, twining in the fine hairs at the base of his skull, and Rick is turning to face her, his hands already reaching for her. The best way to quiet his mind, to settle his anxiety, is with this.
She's prepared, already reading his troubled mind, when he skims his hands down her sides, her hips canting into the grip of his fingers at her waist, her lips already parted, blooming open beneath the pressure of his mouth when he leans in. Castle lifts her off her feet, hums with gratitude at the cove of her body curling around his, sheltering him with the bow of her spine, the secure envelope of her legs around his waist, and kissing him with a certainty that cured all of his doubts.
"Castle-"
"I'll be fine," he mumbles, feathering his lips along her jaw, tending to the sensitive spot just beneath the hinge of bone to feel her body ripple, her breath catch. "Just - this first," he pants, already breathless, his chest crushing against hers with every inhalation. "Need you, Kate."
She nuzzles his cheek, a soft noise of desire slipping past her lips at the trail of his hands beneath her shirt, the heat of his palms caressing her bare skin as he starts towards the bed across the suite. Kate's hands frame his face before he can lie her down across the vibrant red of the comforter, her lips whispering over his in a kiss.
"You have me," she breathes, promises, and he swallows down the reassurance, feels it expand within his chest as he slants his mouth over hers.
They collapse onto the foreign bed together, her body arcing beneath the exploration of his hands, every ounce of tension slipping from his bones with the clothes Kate removes from his skin, soaking into the carpet below.
"You still smell like Korean food."
Kate's nose wrinkles against his neck and he huffs, catches the fingers traipsing lazily along his chest, laces their fingers and brushes his thumb to the gleam of her wedding band.
"There was some at the party. I also saved you some of Mother's international feast if you want to swing by after work tomorrow," he murmurs, listening to her hum of acknowledgement, watching her shift onto her elbows to rise above him for a second time that night.
"You wanna talk about it now?" she inquires, her fingers grazing his forehead, brushing back the fringe of his bangs and dusting along his hairline. Worry simmers in the depths of her gaze and Castle cups her bare shoulder in his palm, circles his thumb over the prominent bone, but his touch does nothing to soothe her. "Don't shut me out, Castle."
He sighs, but shakes his head. It isn't his intention to shut her out. Their communication skills have never been great, but they've improved over the years, and now more than ever, it was important that they keep the gates open, remain accessible to one another despite the strain of their false separation. When it came to his disappearance, though, talking about it made him uneasy, the fear of his memories leading to a senseless dead end strong, and really, the last thing they needed was to revisit a time in their lives that brought so much pain.
It was supposed to be over.
"I just thought I had all the answers I needed," he begins to explain, drawing his hand down the line of her arm, tracing the contours of her muscles. "But that strange memory that the food triggered has all the unanswered questions flaring up again. I know I apparently chose to forget, but Beckett, I don't… how do I keep living with the questions?"
Kate steals his hand back from her arm, clasps it in hers over his chest with a reassuring grip, determination flaring in her eyes that has gratitude swelling in his chest. Whatever she's about to say, it will be supportive, he knows that. She could brush him off, tell him to just let it go, but his wife believed in him, had faith in him, and she would go to whatever lengths necessary to help him find the truth. It had his love for her robbing him of breath all over again.
"Whatever reason you had for opting to forget, you chose it because you thought it was best, so you could come home to me," she reminds him softly, the back of his hand grazing the middle of her sternum, glancing across the resting place of her heart. "But that doesn't mean the answers aren't still out there. They are and we'll find them, whether your memories lead us there or we have to go searching ourselves."
"Want to add Korea to the list of countries we've kissed in?"
Her lips split into a gentle smile. "Sure, Castle. I'm sure we could fit kissing, among other things, into the trip."
The unease that always accompanies him in conversations about his disappearance fades and Castle squeezes her hand, brings her knuckles to his lips. The swarm of questions in his head begins to calm and he releases a steady breath through his nose. Enough worrying for tonight.
"Speaking of other things," he begins, waggling his eyebrows to hear the soft melody of her laughter. "This suite has a Jacuzzi tub that rivals mine in the bathroom, want to have a late night soak with me?"
She bites her lip before she leans forward, smears her grin to his. "I'd love to."
The jerk of his body, the sharp intake of breath, has her blinking awake, turning to him out of reflex. After he had returned from his disappearance, nightmares had become a common occurrence for him, waking them both nearly every night for months. It had been a while, though, since she'd felt the startle of his body beside hers, alerting her to the bad dreams.
Or maybe the nightmares have been back for months now and she's been missing them on the nights she's had to stay away.
"What is it?" she gets out, her voice threatening to slur with the clinging remnants of sleep as she cranes her neck backwards to steal a glimpse of his face.
"I wasn't in Korea, I was in Koreatown in Los Angeles," he states the revelation, brow furrowed and eyes that are still gritty with slumber aimed at the remnants of his dream caught in the ceiling. "Beckett, I've got to go to LA."
Her heart drops without preamble and Kate rolls from her back, the front of her body coming into contact with his side, her hand rising to splay at his chest, over the fabric of the t-shirt he had pulled on last night before bed now dampened with sweat. His heart is pounding hard, beating the breath out of his lungs, and she glides her palm upwards to collide with the throb of his pulse beneath his jaw, coaxing it to slow beneath the weight of her hand.
"Okay," she murmurs, her thumb stroking along the plane of his cheek, and Castle turns his head towards her, eyes wild and frightened, causing her heart to clench harder. "I'll take off a few days this upcoming week and we'll-"
"No, Kate, you can't come," he argues, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "We're supposed to be separated and it's too dangerous."
Kate purses her lips, but no, no way is she letting him do this without her.
"We'll be discrete about it. We'll hammer out the details later, but I can meet you at the airport, take a different plane entirely if that's what it takes," she tells him, touching her fingers to his lips to smother the welling protest on his tongue. "I won't risk losing you to this again. We're going together, Rick."
His fingers curl at her wrist, stroking at the subtle jut of bone, and she feels the taut cord of his body slowly begin to unwind beneath hers, his chest deflating with a long exhale.
"Okay," he finally concedes, the fight draining right out of him as he drags her fingertips down to rest against his chin instead. "At least if I end up disappearing again, you'll know where I went this time," he tries to joke, but it's strained, the familiar coping mechanism falling flat, and Kate taps her fingers to his chin for his attention.
"You're not disappearing again. Sure as hell not without me," she mutters, earning a flicker of his eyes to her, a twitch to the corner of his mouth, body relaxing further into the mattress. "But for now, just breathe, Castle. It's still early, too early."
His eyes flutter, as if the exhaustion his nightmares had chased away has returned to settle atop his lids, and he shifts from his back to rest on his stomach, his head on her pillow and his forehead flirting with hers.
"Won't go anywhere without you, Beckett," he promises her, like he knew she needed to hear it, probably did, and Kate releases a breath, turns into his embrace and hooks her leg over his thigh for good measure.
The quiet stillness of the morning offers a solace she knows will dissipate in a handful of hours when they wake again to face the memories that have come to haunt him, devise a plan on how to confront them, and Kate fists her fingers in the neck of his t-shirt as Castle drifts back to sleep against her. His chest rumbles with a sigh when she fits her head beneath his chin, presses her lips to the line of his throat and closes her eyes.
She inhales the clinging scent of his aftershave on his skin and attempts to empty her mind, to find reprieve within the haven of his body. To savor the calm before the approaching storm.