It's probably a faulty test. She snagged it from the medical cart and who knows how long it had been sitting there. They rarely use them, just when it's relevant to a case and she can't remember in all her years as a detective ever needing to give a witness or suspect a pregnancy test.
If it's expired, it's probably not accurate right?
Hot tears well over her eyes and she can't stop fingering the faint pink plus symbol in the window.
She's completely lost track of time but she knows it's been almost an hour. The guys must be worried. She's actually surprised no one has looked for her yet. Especially Castle.
If she's out of his sight longer than 10 minutes he's trolling the precinct like a puppy looking for it's owner.
And she's stopped denying to herself that she minds one bit. She finds comfort in his consistency. His presence.
She's also stopped denying to her herself that she loves him. It's pitifully obvious.
It's just not that easy.
She's confused about so many things, her mother's case, her therapy sessions, the idea of losing him as a result of her own shortcomings.
All of it added together makes her feel like they can never overcome the obstacles placed in front of them and truly be together.
And more importantly, be normal together.
And she can't raise a kid in a dysfunctional situation. That's just setting them up for failure before their life begins.
Not to mention the lingering cloud of danger that seems to follow them both.
Barely a year ago she was shot by a sniper, hired by some unknown person, who desperately wants her..and a lot of other people...dead. And now she's going to have a baby and place both of them in the crosshairs?
The thoughts of what could happen to the nameless, faceless child force more tears in her eyes and she's so glad no one else is in the bathroom to hear her audible sobs.
She briefly imagines a world where she never leaves the bathroom. She just sits in the same spot for 9 months and doesn't have to face anyone.
But her dream is crushed by the sound of the door creaking open.
"Um...Beckett? Are you in here?"
She's been gone too long. She knew Castle started with the obvious hiding spots and finished by searching the bathrooms. He's done it before.
"If you had a bad lunch or something...I can bring you some medicine? No shame! Last week..I had this greek gyro and..."
If she wasn't staring at a positive pregnancy test, she might grin at his adorableness but that's the last thing on her mind right now.
"I"m fine Castle...I just...need a minute."
She chokes out the words. Hoping he doesn't notice the emotion in her voice. She holds her breath, hoping to hear the door shut behind him.
"Are you crying? Are you ok?"
She sighs. She can never fool Castle, it's a hopeless cause.
He knows her like the back of his hand and even if he didn't, he's eerily good at picking up on small clues.
"I'm FINE Castle. Seriously, get out of the women's bathroom"
She adds an edge of emphasis and anger hoping to motivate him to leave her alone. But instead she hears him shuffle closer.
"Well no one else is in here so right now, it's just your bathroom. And if you're crying..."
Kate quickly wraps the box, test and contents and shoves them in the trash bin. Does one keep something like that?
She takes a deep breath, knowing that she has to face him eventually and he will never leave her alone.
She wipes the remaining tears from her face and resolves to stay strong.
She pushes out of the stall and heads directly to the sink, avoiding eye contact. He's standing close, staring her down.
"Is it...PTSD? You know it's nothing to be ashamed of right?"
His voice is soft, almost scared of her pending answer.
And no matter how hard she tries to control her own vibrato, it shakes with each word.
"No Castle...I told you, I'm fine. Can't a girl just...have a moment?"
If she looks at him she'll buckle, her knees will collapse and she'll end up in his arms, sobbing, asking him to make it all go away. To change her...their...destiny.
Because no what she decides..this changes them, forever.
A baby, an adoption, an abortion. All of it becomes a new page to their never ending dramatic story.
And she doesn't really believe they can take much more.
"Kate I have a teenage daughter, I've dealt with my fair share of tears...if you want to talk, I'm here."
He takes a step closer, into her personal space. So close that she can feel the rise and fall of his breathing.
She wants to turn to him and press her body against his.
She remembers how it felt, strong and welcoming. How he crushed her in the best way possible with his broad shoulders and strong arms. Squeezing the pain out of her. Replacing it with passion and excitement.
The way his mouth moved against her. So deep and sensual. As if they had both been practicing the moment in their heads for so long. It was perfectly rehearsed.
When it happened, it was the result of too many glasses of wine and too many longing looks and smirks that pushed them both over the edge. Ripping at one another's clothes on her living room floor.
Why didn't they realize this is where they would find themselves a month later?
"Let's get out of here..the bathroom AND the precinct. Alexis is at school and my mom is at her theatre...we could just talk...unwind?"
He reaches out to finger her elbow, making small circles with his thumb. She swallows back the desire to respond.
She knows what he means by unwind. It's the last thing she can focus on right now.
"Castle. I can't. Please, just give me some space?"
It's a familiar line and she doesn't mean to be so curt. So angry. So...old Kate.
But everything is overwhelming her. She knows new Kate should validate those feelings, talk to him, let him in and to share the experience with her.
But one thing at a time.
And right now, she was thinking of the pink plus mark that is seared into her brain.
"Can I at least get you coffee?"
His voice is so sympathetic, like he is yearning to know more. To help her.
But he said the one thing in the world that was worse than PTSD.
Coffee.
Just the word sent her rushing back into the bathroom stall, bent in half, dry heaving up the breakfast she didn't even eat.
He knows her better than anyone else. He can tell when she's hurt, or angry, or pretending to hate him but secretly loving him.
And despite her constant pleas of being "Fine". He can tell she's not.
And even though she's bent over a filthy precinct toilet, throwing up, he doesn't think she's sick.
He grabs paper towels and runs them through cold water, placing them on the back of her neck. He feels for a fever as he brushes back her hair to hold but she feels fine.
Her eyes are bright red, clearly from crying.
He suspects PTSD but she's so calm this time, in comparison to last time. Maybe it's a milder attack?
He rubs small circles on her back, just to let her know he's there.
Which is what it feels like he's constantly doing these days. Reminding her he's not going anywhere. He will wait.
But some days he worries that the wall they talked about knocking down, isn't falling fast enough.
"Will you let me call Lanie? She might be able to suggest some medicine..."
She sighs, leaning her head against her palm as if she's steadying a swimming nausea.
"I'm fine Castle."
But she's not, tears still openly fall from her eyes and he has no idea why.
"Will you stop saying you're fine?"
His words are sharp and frustrated but when she's like this, it's like he can't get through to her.
She reaches back and squeezes his hand on her shoulder, letting her fingers linger for a moment intertwined with his.
"I'm sorry I'm just hot. It's hot in here and the case is just eating away at me...can I get a minute to freshen up and I'll be out?"
He stops moving his hand on her back and pauses, staring at her. He shouldn't leave her but he's out of things to try. He's out of ways to get through to her.
With the sniper case, it was Esposito who broke her down. He knew to stand clear.
Maybe this will be the same.
He sighs, exasperated but not loving her any less.
"I'm not buying this story of yours about being 'fine' but..I will give you some space.."
She offers up a weak smile. She's pale and tears dot her cheeks. He is constantly amazed how she manages to look beautiful in the worst of situations.
"Thank you Castle. I'm sure I will feel better soon. If not, I'll let you hold my hair again as I throw up!"
She raises an eyebrow to him in flirtation as if she knows that always disarms him.
He smirks at her and a natural smile curls on her tear stained face.
"Ok...just don't puke on my shoes, these are new and suede and it would be a nightmare to get chunks out."
And with that he smiles and backs away, her back leaning against the cool stall wall as he leaves her.
"Hey Castle..."
He turns on a heel at the doorway at the sound of her quiet voice. His hand pauses on the door handle, "yea?"
"No coffee"
He smirks and leaves her behind. To sort out her own demons, per usual.
This is the dance they have been doing for years. What started as innocent flirtation grew quickly into mutual admiration, attraction even...but last year, with her mothers case, the Montgomery connection, it spiraled into undeniable love.
Except, they spend all their time denying it. Admitting it occasionally through small moments like hand holdings or smirks, shoulder bumps, maybe a kiss on the cheek even.
But last month it exploded into more. Way more. He went to Kate's loft to check on her after a tough case, a few glasses of wine and anything keeping them apart didn't seem to make sense anymore.
"Castle...the way you look at me sometimes...it's like you don't even see the damaged parts...it scares me."
Her hand lingers on his thigh, making small circles with her fingers and making it difficult for him to concentrate.
"You're not damaged Kate...you're beautiful...you're strong...those are the qualities I see..."
His voice is a low whisper, matching her own seductive tone. He reaches down, finding the fingers on his thigh with his own and tracing the lines of her palm and each finger.
"This wouldn't be the same as before. Not before the shooting. You know the wall is there now, you are working on it. We can work on it together."
She smiles, staring directly into his eyes, biting her bottom lip.
"It's not that simple for me. I wish that it were."
But it is that simple. She just doesn't see it.
"I will wait for..."
Before he can finish, her lips crush against his in a passionate haze. He feels her entire body lift onto his, her knees straddled on each side of his waist, his hands rest on her lower hips as she runs her fingers through his hair and works her tongue against his mouth.
He knows he should stop this from going any further but he can't make himself stop. His hands reach under her shirt, feeling her blazing hot skin and instead of stopping him, she lifts the shirt over her head, throwing it onto the floor.
Trouble. This means trouble.
_