A/N: Not that many reviews last time, which was a bit sad. And if you did review, sorry I never got around to answering, school has made me extremely busy. I hope you like this chapter.

Oh, and based on 5x01 spoilers, the Dragon isn't caught, but Kate moves passed her mother's murder. For this story, let's just assume that's what happens.

Disclaimer: You know the drill.


Chapter Two

June 10, 2012

72 Days Before

Castle was, to put it simply, shocked.

He was sitting on the couch, hunched forward, elbows on his knees. He hadn't moved since he stumbled back to the sofa and sat down; he wasn't sure what time it was.

They were supposed to being living happily ever after – her walls were rubble at their feet, the days of keeping secrets and hiding from their feelings behind them.

She was done battling the Dragon. Moving on. But she was still fighting – fighting her own body. It was like some sort of sick joke.

Castle sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. There was an ache in his chest, growing increasingly painful the more he thought about the cancer. Like the ache was cancerous too.

She couldn't die; he couldn't lose her. He couldn't.

But it wasn't like he had a choice, was it? He'd have to sit there and watch her waste away. He wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

Tears started streaming down Castle's face. The idea of watching Kate slip away from him, slowly and sickly, was dark and bleak and excruciatingly horrible. He didn't want to. But he had to.

Castle broke down and cried.

His detective, muse, partner. His Beckett. His Kate.

Loving someone was – the geek and romantic in him thought – like using them as a Horcrux, the magical objects from Harry Potter. A part of your soul attached to theirs, a piece of you they keep close and protect. And if that person died, that part of you would die with them.

In losing Kate, Castle would lose a piece of his soul.

And he was so distraught over it that he was making slightly melodramatic Harry Potter references.

It took a while, but the tears eventually stopped. There were none left.

He sat in silence for a moment, wiping away the tears off his face, trying to be calm and collected again.

His stomach growled.

Right, it was dinnertime. Alexis was going to be home soon, expecting dinner to be ready (she'd offered to bring home pizza or take-out, but he'd refused, saying he'd make her a good old-fasioned homecooked meal).

Crap. Alexis.

Get yourself together, Rick.


Kate went back to her apartment about half an hour later. She contemplated going back to Castle's, but decided that she really did want that alone time.

It was only six o'clock when she walked into her apartment. She thought she should make herself dinner, but she wasn't hungry.

She curled up on the couch and flipped through the channels until she found a Law and Order: SVU rerun. Mariska Hargitay's hair was short and Richard Belzer's was dark, so it was an older episode. Must've come out in the early 2000s.

Kate forced herself to get lost in the drama. A little boy was victim; the detectives suspected parental neglect and feared for the life of his little sister. And, of course, Detective Benson got emotionally involved in the case.

But her mind wouldn't shut down. A small voice in her head was nagging that she shouldn't be wasting her limited time on watching Olivia Benson cry over some little girl she barely knew. She felt like she should be going on some Bucket List type adventure, but she didn't have any idea what she would do on that adventure.

Kate was still lost in her thoughts when the episode started to come to its usual dramatic conclusion. And then, all of the sudden, Kate's world went black.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself on the floor, head throbbing horribly and her body strangely sore. She lifted a hand to her forehead, near her temple, and touched it gently. She was bleeding. Great. She must've passed out and hit her head on the coffee table.

But did she pass out? She remembered her doctor saying something about seizures – she hadn't been listening. She'd been too busy dwelling on the distracting fact that she had terminal cancer.

Kate sat up, a hand still pressed to her head. She must've - she must've had a seizure. She had a seizure. There was a tumor in brain, poisoning her, causing things like seizures. And death.

She sat there for a long time. She was shocked by how real it suddenly seemed. This thing wasn't a prank or a theory. It was undoubtedly true. This thing had caused a seizure and would eventually cause her death.

Dying wasn't fun or exciting or cool. She would know – she was dead, once. She didn't go to Heaven or travel across the universe. She watched the doctors try to revive her – looked at her body – her corpse – in horror, pale and cut up and bloody.

She still had nightmares about that.

So, in short, dying was something she wanted avoid. But here she was, staring Death in its ugly face.

Kate suddenly remembered that her forehead was bleeding and got to her feet. She went to bathroom and cleaned the side of her face with toilet paper, wiping away the trickle of blood. She placed a Band-Aid over the cut. Nice battle wound, Kate, she thought sarcastically.

It was only six o'clock and she hadn't eaten dinner, but Kate went to bed anyway.


After dinner, Castle sat in his study, on his laptop. He started out writing – vague plot ideas, the beginnings of a near-unbeatable super-villain.

But that didn't last very long.

He ended up searching brainstem glioma on Google. Predictably, one of the first results was Wikipedia. It wasn't the most reliable resource in the world, but he clicked on it anyway.

Signs and symptoms.

Lack of facial control (droopy eyelids), double vision, headache or headache that gets better after vomiting, nausea and vomiting, weakness and fatigue, seizures, balance problems.

How many symptoms had she had already? Headaches, he guessed. Nausea or vomiting? Weakness and fatigue? She never complained about anything, so even if she was feeling sick, she wouldn't have told him.

So how had the doctor known to look? An offhand comment about headaches? Or had she had a seizure at home, alone, and never told him?

Why the hell wouldn't she have told him?

He scrolled down.

Treatment.

Surgery wouldn't work, the page said. But it could be treated with chemotherapy or radiation.

More often, it is treated with chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy (though past use of radiation therapy has yielded mixed results.)

She lied.

Why was he not surprised?

But as unsurprised as he was, he didn't understand. Why had she lied?

He found his answer in the Prognosis section.

Brainstem glioma is an aggressive and dangerous cancer. Without treatment, the life expectancy is typically a few months from the time of diagnosis. With appropriate treatment, 37% survive more than one year, 20% survive 2 years, and 13% survive 3 years.

Her chances of survival were very slim. And why go through so much pain and suffering for a 37% chance of surviving? What was a headache or some nausea compared to the horrible symptoms of chemotherapy?

And she hadn't told him. Why?

Why, Kate?

Castle sat there for the longest time, staring at the Wikipedia page, reading the same lines over and over. Aggressive and dangerous cancer – life expectancy is typically a few months from the time of diagnosis – 37% - 20% - 13%.

The hopelessness and helplessness of this thing was staggering.

His mind wandered back to the lie.

Why?

He would've understood her reasoning. He did. So why would she lie to him? What was the point? Did she think he wouldn't understand?

He glanced at the time in the lower right corner of his screen. 8:15. It was still early.

He had to talk to her.

If there was one thing Richard Castle had always hated, it was lying. His feelings toward it had only grown stronger in recent months.

Why had she lied?


A/N: Thoughts? Like it, hate it, love it?

-Ellie