Misconception


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"In," he repeats dumbly. "In love with me. You're in love with-" He gapes, entirely astonished, words failing, because he just convinced himself he's been convincing himself and now he has to re-convince himself.

God, she looks absolutely terrified.

"Me," he finishes lamely, and that's what does it. Turns the key. Bridges the chasm that has existed between the Then and Now, between Maybe She Might Someday and You've Been Fooling Yourself, so that everything meets flush and true, the overlay exact.

She's knotting her fingers, but she lifts her chin. "I'm a little - worried - that this is what has you most surprised and not - the baby."

His face breaks wide with instantaneous joy; he reaches out and hauls her across the too-long length of the couch and up against him. He knows he's squeezing too tightly, knows he's crushing her. "The baby," he echoes. "The baby - we made a baby."

She chokes out a noise that might be a laugh if he wasn't holding her so tightly. He has to release his grip just to see her face, and though it's clouded, she does seem a little bit - maybe a little bit excited.

"Castle… um, are we - or is there still maybe the chance you would - I mean, we can work on it, right? It doesn't have to be today, because it's clear I've messed up somehow, really badly, if you thought you'd made it up - I mean, you knocked me up, for God's sake, how can than have been made up-"

"Beckett, what are you talking about?" he chuckles, still on that rushing up-swing towards giddiness. It makes his voice lack substance, like he has too much air. "I don't even know half the things we've said to each other."

He glances at her and expects to find a similar amusement, a way to laugh and put it all behind them. But that's not on her face; in fact, nothing clear at all is on her face. She is such a self-contained vessel. She holds herself apart even with his arms wrapped around her. Stiff. Unyielding. She wasn't that way that night in the hotel after Ryan's wedding. She was-

She frowns. "I just mean do you still want me? Because I want you. But it's gone on too long now and-"

"What?" he croaks. "What would make you - no, no more of this talking without saying anything. Let's clear this up. I want you. Yes. I already said - but maybe you just didn't believe me - so here it is: I love you. Still. Still do, can't make it stop. I don't want to not love you because it's a wasteland. A void that opens up without you. And - hey, let's get married."

"What?" Her mouth has dropped open, her body jerking back.

He beams. "Yes. It's perfect. And - the baby-" Just saying 'the baby' makes his heart pound so hard. The baby. "Why keep holding back? We're good together. We're perfect together-"

"Castle." Plaintive. As if she's saying, stop messing around.

"I'd like to think-" and then he stops, because, really, isn't that what got him here in the first place? I'd like to imagine, I would like to believe. "Never mind. That's a dumb thing to say. Right. Let's go with - when you said at Ryan's wedding, maybe the third time's the charm, I got these really vivid images, visions, of being the one - the one you walked down that aisle towards. Being - the one."

She opens her mouth, closes it.

"Think about it," he insists. And then because it's already so much, "Think about it?"

"I…"

"Because I kind of got the impression you already had, at some point, been thinking about it, maybe imagining it too, and that was the point of us waiting, so that it was a solid foundation for - for marriage," he finishes, feeling stupid now. She's looking at him like this is entirely a shock and he really did think she wanted this too.

Wow, he has been wrong at every turn. So wrong. He's assumed quite a lot here, and maybe I'm in love with you has some conditions or limitations on it in her mind that it doesn't for him. He marries when he's in love, quite obviously. He has two previous marriages that say that's his m.o. So marrying for love is probably a really, really stupid thing to do. Two strikes, Rick.

Think of something better.

"I mean, you're pregnant," he gets out. "And the baby - isn't that enough of a reason to get married?"

She narrows her eyes. "Like that worked out so well for you before."

His heart plummets.

Kate claps her hands over her mouth, sitting up straight, horror racing across her face.

He nods, swallowing the ache in his throat. "Yeah, no. You're right. You're - I definitely don't want a repeat of that disaster." He feels nasty. "I'm not sure I could handle seeing you on your knees with your director. Or whatever the equivalent is. Espo."

"I'm so sorry," she rushes out. "Oh, God. That is not what I meant to say."

Sorry really doesn't fix that kind of - and well, now he gets it, right? "But you make some good sense," he says, offering a smile. It's hard to pull off. He's not sure he did pull it off. "That's a really good point. We're still pretty - our communication isn't so great. And getting married when we're already this messed up…"

Well this just sucks.

This is not beautiful or joyful or anything. This is just one wound after another, and you would think he's figured it out by now. That he would just stop risking himself for love because the hurt is just - it sours everything.

After his messy divorce with Gina, he really ought to have learned, but instead he turned around and fell in love with the first woman to test him. A detective whom he has knocked up and is all wrong for and yet, here he turning himself inside out for her.

"Okay, yes. Yes, Castle, marry me."

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