Reminiscence

Chapter 2

The two hour drive upstate was a relatively quiet one for the most part.

Kate didn't protest at all when Castle offered to drive, much to his initial surprise. Once inside his car, she handed over the paper she had scribbled the hospital name and address on while at the precinct, he punched it into the portable GPS and off they went.

He only asked for the bare minimum of details. After all, she only knew so much herself with such a brief phone call. That was probably what terrified her the most, he figured. Being so far away from her dad and not knowing. Being left in the dark while she sat anxiously in a car for two hours.

Not being in control of her father's fate.

Seeing the fragile state she was already in, he didn't want to upset her further by getting her talking a lot, making her think too much, or having her mind start to wander. His own thought processes were already doing enough of that for the both of them; spinning wild theories about what happened and imagining what could be wrong with him.

Nothing he would dream of sharing out loud with her.

"She said he fell off the roof," Kate told him with a fragile voice. Her face was buried in her hands as she spoke and he could tell she was trying so hard to retain her composure. To not cry.

In her left hand, she was clutching onto her phone tightly, as if just waiting for it to start ringing and bring her bad news. Worse news.

There was no way she could have safely driven herself. Not like this.

That's probably why she didn't fight him on it when he said he'd drive. She knew she was in no condition to drive herself, too.

"A few of the neighbor kids saw it happen. They called their parents over there, who said they called 911 immediately afterward. He hit his head but she didn't go into detail on it since she didn't have anything specific for me. He was still unconscious when EMS got there."

"Concussion, maybe?"

"I don't know. She didn't say one way or another. Said the doctors would assess him when he arrived."

Jim Beckett was en route to the hospital when she got the call. He probably fell off the cabin roof just as they were making their way back to the 12th after their canvassing.

"What the hell was he doing up there on the roof?" she says suddenly, angrily, finally bringing her hands away from her face. "He knows better than to do stuff like that when he's all by himself, especially at his age!"

"Maybe there was a leak he was trying to fix before you got there?" Castle offers, though he's pretty sure that nothing he said was going to give her any sense of relief in the least bit. "Did he mention anything the last time you talked to him?"

"No, he didn't say anything about a leak. Or anything similar, for that matter. All he said was that he was excited for me to come up there, and mentioned that he had something he wanted to show me that we hadn't had around since I was a kid."

Her face then takes on an intense frown before she continues on, voice laced with frustration.

"He knew I was driving up tomorrow! If there was something wrong, it could have waited another day so I could help him. Hell, less than a day. I would've been there by nine or ten in the morning!"

"Kate."

"It doesn't make any sense. God, Castle. What the hell."

He watches through the corner of his eye as Kate turns to the passenger side window, hiding her face away from him. Or so she thinks. He can still see her through the side mirror when he takes a glance over at her.

She's brought her right hand up to her mouth with a tightly curled fist, chewing at her thumbnail as she tries to squint her eyes and blink away the tears that threaten to fall. She sniffles almost inaudibly, and that's how he can tell how close she is to breaking.

"It's Christmas. We were supposed to be spending Christmas together. The first time in years doing all the things we used to do before—" Her voice breaks and her expression crumbles before she can say the words aloud.

Even without the words being spoken, Castle knows where the train of thought was headed. He winces.

Before Mom was killed.

"He's all I have left, Castle. He's all I have left and I—"

He can't take it anymore, seeing her like this.

Wordlessly, he extends his right hand over to her, seeking out her left from it's resting spot upon her denim-clad thigh and he grasps it, giving a light squeeze. He turns to face her when he sees in his peripheral vision that she's turned in his direction. She's staring back at him with glistening eyes beneath the unruly curls that have fallen around her face.

She'd only had the top pulled up today in somewhat of a half ponytail, but once inside the car, she'd gathered it all together, yanked it up into a messy bun. Like the feeling of having it down around her face was suffocating. She didn't care about fixing it when a few stray curls in the front went rogue and fell upon her cheeks a short while later.

Kate looks down at his hand on hers for a moment, regarding it, before letting go of her phone, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his hand and forearm close to her body, just above her waistline. She then brings down her other arm, wrapping it across their intertwined hands, the fingers of her right hand curling around his forearm, holding him there. Keeping him close.

With one last glance at him, which he returns in kind with a smile, she leans her head back into the window at her right and stares out at the road ahead.

It hits him then that she's hugging his arm since she can't hug the rest of him for comfort right now.

And he's thrilled at that. He wishes the circumstances were different, that she wasn't in such pain and anxiety over her father, but he's glad she's leaning on him.

"It'll be okay, Kate," he tells her, eyes looking straight ahead, thumb brushing along the hand held in his. She tightens her grip slightly, but says nothing.

And that's fine. He'll be her rock. Whatever she needs.

For the remainder of the trip up north, they sit in silence, Kate clutching his arm, their two hands linked together.

Sometimes words just aren't necessary. Especially for the two of them.

Castle forfeits a couple free parking places he passes by to other hospital patrons who are also just arriving in favor of pulling up right to the Emergency Room entrance so that Kate can get out. She gives him an appreciative look and tug on the hand before bolting out the door, making a mad dash inside the lobby.

She didn't ask him to let her out alone. He just noticed the significant change in her demeanor once they got off the highway and she could see the hospital in the distance. She was restless, and he didn't want her to wait even a minute longer.

Her phone hadn't rung a single time the whole trip, and he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Proceeding further into the parking lot, he holds out hope that he'll be able to find a parking spot quickly enough so that he can rejoin her inside.

The hospital is packed, as he expected it would be. It's just after 6:30pm on the night of December 23rd. Everyone with a cough, cold or what-have-you is hoping to get the ER trip in and out of the way before Christmas, as is typical around this time of year and holidays in general.

It ends up taking him another two complete circles around the lot and a collective ten minutes before he finally finds a place he can park...legally.

Yes, he briefly entertained the idea of leaving his Ferrai parked at a red curb or hell, even between two trees on a patch of grass in the middle of the lot, but upon further reflection, he didn't like the idea of some random tow-truck driver banging up his precious car when it would be inevitably towed away.

Once he makes it inside the building, he finds that it's standing-room only. All the seats in the waiting room are taken. It's mostly women with young children, with a few men and elderly couples thrown into the mix. It takes him all but five seconds to spot Kate amongst the crowd, huddled up against a far wall beside a vending machine, looking as anxious as ever.

Maybe he should have taken the grassy patch, after all.

She doesn't even notice him walking toward her until he's halfway across the room, weaving in and out of the traffic of people, and when their eyes meet, he sees the relief wash over her. The reassurance that she isn't by herself and doesn't have to go through this alone.

He's here for her.

"Sorry it took me so long," he apologizes, debating whether he should try to touch her, console her in some way. "You okay?"

The debate doesn't last long. Once he's within reach, Kate's arms lift up and curl around his sides, just beneath his arms. Because she had been feeling so jittery this morning, she opted for wearing flats instead of heels, so as she pulls closer, the height difference has her head coming to rest along his collarbone, settling just beneath his chin.

"No," she murmurs, and he reciprocates the embrace at once, places his arms around her, hands grasping her shoulders, holding her steady as she trembles.

As much as he wants to caress her back, stroke a hand down her cheek or run his hands through her hair, he doesn't. He won't push, won't take advantage of her vulnerability because of his own wants and longing.

If she comes seeking comfort, he'll give it to her. But for now, he's going to keep his impulses in check, let her set the pace. Only let her take what she needs.

"How is he?" he asks after they finally break apart. He swings around to the side of her, coming between her and the vending machine, leans back against the wall alongside her. Their shoulders brush against each other and he can feel that she's still shivering a bit.

"He's still out of it," she says sadly, leaning her head back against the wall and looking up to the ceiling as she speaks. "They took him back for a CT scan about twenty minutes before we got here. The receptionist gave me a bunch of other medical jargon that I didn't quite comprehend before she had to run off somewhere, so I texted Lanie about it."

He tilts his head, looks at her questioningly.

"With how busy it is in here, I thought it'd be easier to get more descriptive, easy to understand answers that way if I relayed them over to her," she gives a shrug of her shoulders.

"She respond back yet?"

Kate nods.

"Said it's probably just a concussion and that they're likely looking for a skull fracture with the CT scan since he has a hematoma at the site of the injury," she points to a spot on her head, just a few inches shy of her ear and a little closer to the crown of her skull. "Then she told me to try not to worry so much. Those are actually common and usually heal well enough on their own."

"Well, that's good then, right?" he asks, turns to her with a smile.

"But why isn't he awake yet, Castle?" The wavering tone comes back to her voice. "It's been almost three hours and he's still unconscious. That can't possibly be good. What if—"

She hesitates, drops her head and swallows hard at the lump in her throat and feels queasy just thinking about her next words. Castle feels his heart sinking when he sees the pained expression slowly take form on her features.

"—what if it's worse than that? What if there's brain damage? Internal bleeding somewhere? What if there's something they're missing and—"

"Hey," he whispers softly, stepping in front of her and taking her hands in his. He dips his head down, his forehead close to hers but not quite touching, meets her eyes with his, gives her a gentle smile. "I'm the one who's supposed to think up all the crazy theories and worst-case scenarios. Not you."

She cocks her head to the side, brow furrowed, though she does raise an eyebrow at him and he can see a hint of a smile behind the lip she's taken between her teeth again.

"I guess you're rubbing off on me," she retorts, huffing out a light laugh. His grin in response is enough to make her features start to soften again. Just a little bit.

"Oh no," he says on a gasp, "This isn't good at all. We can't have two people spinning crazy theories at the 12th. It's bad enough Ryan's trying to steal my thunder on occasion. You've got to remain the voice of reason, Beckett, or we'll never get anything done. Not to mention Gates would probably shoot me for ruining her best detective."

Her lips quirk into that compressed smile he loves so much, the one that spreads across her entire face, barely capable of being contained by her. When he sees the twinkle back in her eyes, he knows he's on the right track.

"So with that firmly established, there's one other thing we both know I'm good at when it comes to theories that we can have rub off on you instead."

"Driving people crazy?" she jeers, not even missing a beat. Castle lets out a groan.

"Walked right into that one, didn't I?" Another smile from the detective. "Other than that."

Kate studies him a moment, sees the gentle, hopeful look on his face as he watches her, and then it hits her.

Of course.

"Silver linings."

"That's right," he confirms. "And I've got one for you. Ready for it?"

She nods. Is she ever.

"Remember in Hell Hath No Fury, how Adam's son falls and hits his head while they're fleeing from the angry Wiccan fanatics trying to kill them?"

Kate lifts an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes at him. Of course she remembers. That was one of the first books of his that she had ever read after she became a fan of his writing. A more obscure title compared to the rest of his works, but she made a point to read everything he's written. Comes with the territory when you regard an author as one of your favorites.

"That's fiction, Castle. A crazy story crafted out of your own head."

"But based upon factual research!" he asserts with a sense of pride. "I had the doctors tell Adam that there was nothing to worry about, as long as he wasn't unconscious for more than six hours—"

"—because a loss of consciousness for less than six hours is usually an indication that the injury is limited to a concussion, while over six hours marks the risk of brain tissue damage," she recites.

"You really are a hardcore Castle groupie, aren't you, Katherine Beckett? Almost word for word, right off the page. I'm flattered," he teases, squeezing her hands and elbow nudging her gently.

"Shut up," she mutters, shoving his hands back playfully into his chest, unable to contain the open-mouthed smile that graces her face.

Castle lets out a laugh and braces himself for the impact, which still pushes him backward a few paces. Kate tries to jostle her hands away from his and nearly succeeds before he captures her wrists and holds on tight.

He gazes upon her with an affectionate smile, her arms outstretched to him and hands in his custody, and Kate can't help but think of how grateful she is to have him in her life. To have him here right now. Even with all his theories, boyish antics and the fact that he drives her crazy sometimes, she still adores him.

And judging by the look he's giving her as he gives her wrists a tug, beckoning her toward him, she knows the feeling is mutual.

He loves her. He loves her, and she wants to be more. More, so that she can be the person she wants to be.

The person that can love him back with all of her heart.

When she doesn't hesitate and steps forward, closing the gap between them, she realizes she's making damn good progress these days on that effort.

"It's only been three hours, Kate," Castle murmurs, holding her close as she nestles back into his chest for an embrace.

"Only three hours," she repeats, nodding her head once.

"Miss Beckett?" a deep voice resounds from across the room. "Is there a Katherine Beckett here?"

Kate startles and pulls back from Castle to search out the source of the voice calling her name. When he speaks again, she spots him: he's a thin, bald man, somewhere close to Castle's height but probably in his late fifties. He's wearing scrubs that are a dark shade of blue, and is standing by the door next to the reception desk holding a clipboard in his hands.

A doctor with an update?

"Yes? Right here. I'm right here," Kate replies, and then she steps away from Castle and starts making her way across the room. When Castle stays behind and doesn't follow after her, she turns her head back to him, giving him a look—Aren't you coming?

He stares at her blankly. Blinks.

She stands there, waiting, still watching him.

Oh. Me, too?

He rolls forward from the wall and jogs over to rejoin her. They walk side-by-side together to the reception desk and over to the man who introduces himself with a handshake when they approach.

"Hello, Miss Beckett. I'm Dr. Curtiss. I'm the physician overseeing your father's care here at St. Mary's."