Kate walked into their bedroom quietly, so not to wake him, but he startled at the softest of steps and she saw he hadn't been sleeping at all.
"Hey," she murmured softly, crawling onto her side of the mattress and cradling his skull when he turned his face into her thigh.
She gently raked her nails through his hair, discretely checking the still healing scars running through multiple areas of his skull – the back, the sides, his forehead. Tyson had really done a number on him. For a while - those first few hours he had spent alone and unconscious after his admission to the hospital - the doctors actually believed there was a chance he wouldn't make it.
Authorities had found him on the swings - their swings - beaten and bloodied, scaring children with his bludgeoned appearance, and he hadn't even realized it. Hadn't even known who he was.
"How are you?" she asked and Castle sighed, sat up slowly and pressed his back into the leather headboard, looked over at her in that helpless way that made her heart clench.
"Head hurts," he mumbled, opening his arms for her in invitation and she gingerly moved to sit between his knees, her head and shoulder against his chest and her eyes on his face.
"Did you take-"
"They make me so heavy, Kate," he said tiredly, drained from all the medications he had been prescribed since being discharged a few weeks ago. His body had healed without much issue – the black eye cleared up, the abrasions from the car crash closed and scarred over, but his bruised ribs still made breathing difficult and the pain in his already damaged knee still flared with fierce intensity. Tyson had known exactly where to aim for prolonged pain despite the fact that he had planned to kill him in the end. He had wanted Rick to hurt and she instinctively curled her body in closer, protective.
"I was thinking that maybe later we could go on a walk," she suggested lightly, gently, because leaving the loft was still a struggle.
He suffered so relentlessly with the fear that it wasn't over, that even though Tyson and his partner, Kelly Nieman, had both been arrested, even though Tyson himself was now dead - found hanging in his cell - someone would still come for him, for Alexis and Martha, for her. He woke in cold sweats and panicked cries every night over it and although the paranoia was progressively decreasing over time, she still worried every time she saw the horror on his face when he was wrenched from his sleep by the terror of nightmares that were probably all too real.
He swallowed and she brushed her lips over his Adam's apple.
"Sure," he answered, but the single syllable was strangled. "After this headache clears up, we'll go," he said more certainly and Kate squeezed his hand. "But will you stay for a bit?"
"Of course," she assured him instantly. She had promised Alexis she would help her study for that exam she had in her college physics course, but his daughter would understand if she was a few minutes late. Alexis had been forced to learn how to extend her patience and consideration more than ever before in the last month.
"Sometimes I imagine how you must have looked that day, in your mom's dress," he murmured suddenly and she bit her lip, closed her eyes against his neck – all thoughts of that day, of their wedding, had remained so very painful to encounter. "That's what I was thinking about before you came in. You must have been so stunning."
"Your mom thought so," she said with a sad reminiscent smile playing at her lips, coasting her nails up and down his side, over his ribs with caution.
"Is your dress okay? I never even thought - but after you must have been on the side of the road with it…"
"It's still wearable, Castle. You'll see me in it one day, I promise."
It wasn't necessarily a lie. Her dress had been mostly unscathed, but still damaged. When she had made it to the scene of the crash, laid her eyes on the flaming car he had supposedly been inside of, she had fallen to her knees on the dirty pavement, momentarily in shock. And then she had staggered to her feet, attempted to propel herself down the hill before one of the officers grabbed her by the waist, keeping her back despite her violent cries of protest.
That's my husband, you let me go to my husband.
The skirt had been stained - ash, dirt, and grime smeared along the middle and the edges of tulle - but she knew a certain fashion designer who had been willing to help. Once Matilda King had heard the news - after recovering from the explanation of what had happened to Kate's original dress - the woman had demanded she lend her hand, and now professionals were currently repairing Kate's wedding dress. Her mother's beautiful dress.
"Soon?"
Kate nodded. "Soon."
"I don't want to wait anymore," he whispered, tightening his arms around her, pressing her firmly against him despite the flickers of pain she knew it evoked in his bones. "I want to marry you now."
"Me too," she admitted, brushing her nose along the line of his jaw. "But I want you to be fully healed, Castle. I want-"
"My memory is back," he persisted, cupping her face in his hands and giving her a proud smile. "I remember every single thing like it never left."
"I know, babe. And I couldn't be happier about that," she smiled back, because the statement really could not be more true. She wanted nothing else but to keep him, keep the beautiful life they had together, the life that had been practically foreign to him for two torturous weeks.
The doctors had assured her it was a temporary grade amnesia and that while there was a chance he would not recover his memory, there was also great likelihood that he would. But no reassurances from his doctor eased the fear that he would remain oblivious to her and his family. Nothing stopped her heart from shattering every time he had looked to her with confused longing.
Kate had been truly terrified that he would never remember her and their story and everything they had been through together. She had been scared he would never remember his daughter, who had been an inconsolable wreck for days after her father had stared at her like she was a stranger. She had worried for his mother, who had remained calm when in front of them, but Kate had heard the woman crying alone in her bedroom too many times to count.
They were better now, all of them. It had been six weeks since they had found him clueless in the hospital and it had been anything but an easy journey, but so far it was a successful one. His memories had come back, slowly, steadily, creeping back in with uncertainty that had him asking for confirmation every time a vision flashed through his mind, but he remembered now without struggle or doubt.
Leaning into his touch and relishing in the shine of his eyes, the sapphire gleam they had been so long without, she kissed his palm and continued. "I want you to be able to stand with me without any pain," she murmured, dusting her fingers over his ribs once more for emphasis. "I want us to go on our honeymoon and be able to celebrate without worrying about breaking you," she teased and he huffed indignantly.
"You weren't worried a couple of nights ago," he grinned against her hair.
She rolled her eyes, but ignored him and continued, "And I want these headaches to be gone. They make you miserable."
He sighed, couldn't deny that. His post-concussion headaches were painful and usually had him slinking off to their bedroom to sleep off the drumming ache in his skull. "They are improving though. Just a dull roar most days."
"Has the hypnotherapy you tried been helpful at all?"
He shrugged. He hated therapy most days – all types. He was forced to go for his head quite often, sometimes his body too, but also for his mind. She knew the signs of post traumatic stress all too well, and after she had watched him experience his first episode - the vivid memories of Tyson and the sadistic beatings leaving him wedged in a corner with his head between his knees - she had called his doctor, received a recommendation. The attacks were less frequent now and usually she was successful in pulling him back to her, to their present, before he fell into the memories of the recent past.
She sometimes wished those memories had remained unearthed.
"Honestly, the best treatment is when you give me a massage."
His lips turned upwards against her forehead and she smirked, sifting her fingers through his hair in response. In the earlier stages of his recovery, she would lie in bed with him for hours, trailing her fingers over his scalp because he swore it made the headaches stop and helped him sleep. She stilled tended to indulge the habit, even when his head wasn't engulfed in agony.
"Kate?"
"Hmm?"
"I was thinking, for our next wedding-" She swallowed hard to disguise the stutter in her breathing and nodded along in encouragement. They should have only had one wedding, their perfect wedding that they had looked forward to for so long. "We could do something more intimate. Just us. Alexis, your dad and my mom. The boys and Gates. Your wedding day was supposed to be magical, and I hate that it was ruined, but-"
"Castle," she said sternly, sitting up straight and maneuvering her body to face his. "It wasn't mine, it was ours. Our wedding day was ruined by a monster, you have nothing to feel guilty about."
His gaze shifted away and - shit, his eyes were watering. He had never cried about this in front of her. They had shed tears during their reunion, during panic attacks, during the many moments of frustration that littered the days of his recovery, but never about their wedding. They had carefully avoided talking about that day. This was why.
"You had been so excited," he croaked, but there was a sad smile on his face as he brushed his knuckles along the bone of her cheek. "I remember your voice on the phone, when I was so close to being there, you were so happy. And I couldn't wait to see you, because I knew you would look indescribable. When Tyson had me locked up, I just kept thinking of you and how you would have looked walking down the aisle."
Her own tears clogged her throat and she settled her palms at his jaw, delicately laid her forehead to rest against his.
"What were you saying," she whispered. "About our next wedding?"
"We could do something small, here in Manhattan," he suggested gently, tracing his hands up and down the curve of her spine through her t-shirt. "Go on our honeymoon just like we planned, and then later, we can have the wedding we originally wanted, out in the Hamptons surrounded by everyone who made it on that list we slaved over."
She had started nodding in agreement before he had even finished explaining. She didn't even care about having the 'perfect wedding' anymore, didn't care about where they exchanged vows and rings or who was in attendance, as long as he was there.
"I just want to marry you, Kate."
"I want to marry you too," she rasped, circling her thumb over his chin. "So much, you have no idea."
"I do," he insisted softly, tracing the shell of her ear and spreading his fingers along the bones of vertebrae at her neck. "Believe me, I do."
"We'll start planning tonight, okay?"
His nose nudged into her cheek, encouraged her mouth to meet his, and kissed her soundly, kissed away the lingering sadness and memories, kissed her until they were both breathless and his ribs burned.
"At least we won't have much to plan this time."
She huffed a laugh and shook her head against him.
"As long as the one person on my list makes it, I don't care about anything else," she sighed, resting her cheek to the ridge of his collarbone, feeling his chin lower to the top of her head, lips sweeping along the line of her hair.
"Nothing will keep me away this time," he promised solemnly and she ignored the fact that it was a promise neither he nor anyone else could ever actually make. Fate, or the universe, as he preferred to call it, had brought them together and torn them apart plenty of times now, it could do it again just as easily. Their love story deserved a happy ending, they had strived so hard to earn it, but that didn't ensure they would receive it.
She chose to believe him.
A/N: I had only intended to explore the idea of Castle recovering from the car accident, but then the rest happened.
Thank you so much to Liz for beta-ing and thank you to those who read and indulged this little story. Feedback is welcome and so greatly appreciated.
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