Close Encounters 11
Kate got out of the Range Rover and had to slide down off the runner to the gravel drive. Castle was already heading for the front porch steps and she didn't let herself hesitate. She followed him across the dirt of the front yard, trying to stay off the grass that grew sparsely under the wide oak.
She felt acorns crunch under her shoes as she rounded the side of the house; when she got to the back steps, she started up to the porch. She heard Castle at the screen door, Carrie's welcome from the kitchen, and then she sharp bark of the dog.
She flinched.
Kate glanced up and gasped as the wolf flung itself at her, mouth wide and teeth, tongue, all of it in a coiling spring of energy. She stumbled back and fell down the porch steps, both arms held up to ward it off, eyes closed even as her back hit the dirt and her breath left her.
"Kate!"
She curled up to fend it off, but the low, pathetic whine and the thunder of Castle's feet down the steps thrummed into her and peeled her eyes open, breath rattling in her lungs again.
Sasha was hunkered low to the ground, ears flattened, body trembling and abject, sounding pitiful. Castle was there a second later, on his knees in the dirt beside her, helping her sit up, glancing back and forth from her to the dog.
"I'm okay," she gritted out, knocking his hand away. "I'm fine. Just got knocked off-balance."
Sasha was still on her belly at Kate's side, carefully holding herself back like she knew. Like she sensed the rippling panic. She could probably smell it.
"Kate," he rasped, sitting back, leaving her alone just like the dog. "What was that?"
She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut, and then flashed them open once more. "Just. You know. More of the same."
"Because of-"
"Kate?" It was Carrie and she'd come down the porch steps as well. "Hey, honey. Come on inside. Sasha, with me."
"No," Kate gasped, lurching forward. Her fingers gripped around Sasha's collar and her dog whined again, nudging her nose into Kate's arm, wet and cool. "Give me a second."
"Kate, you're sprawled in the dirt," Castle murmured. "Let's get everyone inside."
She curled her fingers around Sasha, tighter, and her dog belly-crawled forward, laid her head in Kate's lap. The long tongue came out and licked at Kate's arm, her jeans, her arm again, her whine growing more eager now. Kate resolutely cut back the tendrils of terror that grew up around her lungs, ignoring the quiver of memory.
"Hey, honey," Carrie said softly, squatting down now at her side. Her fingers came out and stroked over Sasha's back. "You don't look so good, Kate. You're pale and shaking. Come on inside."
Kate gave a laugh that sounded more desperate than she'd meant it to. "That's not because of this."
Carrie shot Castle a look but he only shook his head and reached for Kate, dragged her up to her feet. Sasha came too, standing and pressing hard against Kate's thigh, and she realized her fingers were still tangled in the dog's collar, probably choking her. But she couldn't seem to let go.
Kate sat on the couch with the dog laid across her lap, both hands buried in Sasha's fur and gripping too tight. Castle was in the kitchen making them tea - not his idea - but Carrie had insisted; she sat in the armchair pulled up close to Kate and was leaned over with her elbows on her knees.
"You look like death," Carrie said matter-of-factly. "But with the way Richard hovers - I guess that's an improvement."
Kate felt the hard laugh claw out of her throat and heard the dog whining in her lap, nose nudging under her arm as if Sasha wanted to bury her face in Kate's side. She released her death grip on the dog and tried to smooth her fur, staring at the mottled brown of her back, the white streak at her muzzle. She was a gorgeous dog; she was alive and not shot dead outside a cave.
"I - uh - we were on assignment in Russia. It went south. I got Castle out of there - he'd been badly injured - but I had to stay behind. Ran into some trouble."
"She went thirteen days without food or water," Castle interrupted with a huff. He handed Carrie a mug of hot tea first, then turned to Kate, waited until she had it before he let go. "I finally got back to Russia, found her in a cave. Basically."
Kate tried to rally, but it was a losing effort. She wrapped her fingers around the mug's warm sides and inhaled darjeeling, the dog heavy in her lap. She sank back into the couch cushions and sipped slowly, closing her eyes.
"You're having some flashbacks," Carrie said then. Kate startled and looked over at their friend; she was sitting back in the chair now, but there was knowledge on her face. Kate cut a look to Castle but Carrie went on. "I've seen it before. Mark. I've been around this block."
"Yeah," Kate answered, feeling some of her old energy come back to her. "Sorry. I - I thought it was under control."
"Shellshock comes and goes, honey," Carrie said. "Not something you can really control."
"If not controlled, then handled," Kate murmured back, sipping at her tea again.
Castle shifted closer on the couch, laid his hand over the dog's back. "We're working on it."
"There was a wolf," Kate confessed. "He got shot and I - there was nothing - I thought to try to eat but it didn't work out."
Carrie sighed, her face melting into sympathy, and she leaned forward to embrace Kate, her hug both strong and gentle at the same time. "I can see how an overly enthusiastic puppy might be a little much."
Kate felt the blush suffusing her cheeks but there was only kindness in Carrie's eyes. Castle's hand on the dog creeped up and slipped under Kate's elbow. She turned and met the softness on his face, his concern for her something she could crawl inside, be safe forever - but only if she wanted to never come out again. She looked back to the dog instead.
Carrie cleared her throat. "Look, the drive back is a bitch in rush hour. Stay and have dinner with me. I bought corn on the cob from the guy at the county line. It's sweet."
Kate could feel Castle's gaze on her, seeking her agreement, but it wasn't even a problem. She wanted to stay. It would be good for them.
"Yeah. Can we help you put it together?"
It was fun. They hadn't gotten the chance to hang out with non-Agency people in months, and yet Carrie knew enough not to ask. So the tension was gone, the carefully worded answers to oblivious questions. Carrie made things easy.
Castle glanced over at his wife as she sat at the dining room table, shucking ears of corn, the dog lying at her feet patiently, ears cocked and head tilted, about as watchful and alert towards her as Castle himself. The dog knew; Sasha must be able to sense the change in Kate.
He shifted his gaze to Carrie and she was watching him, a smile playing around her lips as she marinated chicken in a big bowl. Her fingers were dark with sauce and she nodded towards the casserole dish.
"Get that for me?"
He brought it over and set it down on the counter next to where she was working. "Thanks for dinner."
"You're helping," she laughed. "Making you do the veggies. We can saute them."
"Yeah, yeah, definitely." He rooted around in her cabinet until he found the wide pan, then brought it on top of the stove, headed for the fridge. "I'll have you know, I've gotten adept at cooking. Is this all there is? - squash, zucchini, broccoli?"
"And I think some cabbage leaves. You see those?"
He hunted through the crisper until he found the rest of the fresh vegetables, and he pulled them out, cradling them against his shirt as he looked around for a place to start. Carrie had her hands full but she nodded her head towards another cabinet and he found a cutting board.
"Knife's in the block," she said then. "How're you guys doing?" Her voice was lower, her look just for him.
Castle glanced quickly towards Kate but she was feeding Sasha baby carrots from a plastic bag. She was murmuring words of love to the dog, the corn already shucked in front of her, as Sasha's teeth flashed and gnawed at the treat. Kate was doing really well even with that muzzle so close to the still-visible scars on her arm.
"We're okay."
"It'll take a while to get bounce back from thirteen days," Carrie spoke. "You know that, right? You need to back off and give her that time."
"Back off," he repeated, frowning at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean stop hovering. Stop catching her before she can even trip. Give her the chance to fall apart without you."
He opened his mouth but found he had absolutely nothing he could say to that. Nothing. Except no.
"You didn't see her at your funeral, Richard," Carrie went on.
He flushed and growled under his breath, tried not to slice his fingers off as he chopped angrily at the broccoli. "We've gotten past that."
"I'm not saying you're not forgiven. I'm saying she's the type who has to rebuild herself from the inside out. You can't do it for her. She has to stand on her own. That's the kind of woman she is - and she was doing it then, when you were dead; she was working her way there. She can do it again - for something a lot less. Starving in a cave? You're alive, so I think she's going to be stronger than you expect."
Castle clenched his hand around the squash, put it on the cutting board, trying to focus. Couldn't get the image of Kate at his funeral out of his head though.
"Hey, I'm not trying to make you feel shitty," she murmured. Her hand came to grip his elbow. "I just want Kate to have a chance. Both of you."
He nodded. "I got it. I know. She needs independence when she's dealing with this stuff. And I want her to get stronger. Not... falling down the steps because of a dog." He frowned and cut into the squash, one slice after another, watching the yellow skin split neatly under the blade. "We're - we want to try. To have kids."
Carrie let out a soft breath and he knew it was because she'd just spent the last three weeks - four actually - baby-sitting their dog. But she didn't say that. "Yeah? You plan on cutting back your hours?"
"That was our last overseas assignment for - at least a year. Beckett's on disability for six months, and probably longer, the way things are going."
"Oh yeah?"
"You guys talking about me?" Kate said then.
Castle turned but she was still sitting at the kitchen table, stroking her fingers through the dog's fur. She lifted her eyes to his and Castle winced. "Yeah, sweetheart. We are."
She sighed and put her elbow on the table, propped her head up. "What about? The fact that I have PTSD and can't hold my shit together, or some other wonderful thing?"
Carrie laughed - actually laughed - and put the last of the chicken into the casserole dish. "It's all pretty wonderful. But Richard says you guys want to start a family."
Kate's face lit up. He could hardly breathe at the beauty that shined out from her eyes, suffused her cheeks. "Yeah. Soon as we get things settled."
"That's pretty wonderful," Carrie said softly. "And yeah, I'll baby-sit for you guys."
Kate laughed then too, her lips pressing into a smile, but she startled when Sasha put her head on Kate's knees. She cupped her hands around the dog's ears and glanced down, her face going soft again.
"We're going to be better," she said quietly. And then her gaze lifted and met Castle's straight on, intent and definite and practically daring him to say differently. "No more months gone. We run most of our ops from New York. And if we have to go overseas, we go as a team. Never separated again."
"And you'll stop racing into the mouth of danger?" Carrie said, but she was smirking at them both. "Stop kicking ass and taking names?"
"No," Castle gasped. "Never."
Kate laughed then too, dislodging the dog's head, and she stood and came towards them both at the kitchen counter. Her arm slid around Castle's waist and she leaned into him. "I said better. Not boring."
Kate sat cross-legged on the couch with Sasha curled in a tight ball in her lap. She didn't fit - not even close - but Kate kept her arms around the dog, stroking her back and between her ears, over and over. She knew it was self-soothing, but it was also her way of forcing the issue. Getting past it.
Everything.
If she could do this, be normal with her own dog, then she could get over the rest of it too. Sasha tucked her head tighter into Kate's knee, and Carrie's dog, Bo, nosed over to press his muzzle into Kate's hand, jealous.
"Bo," Carrie chastised. "Bo, leave her alone."
"He's okay." Kate answered automatically. She lifted her hand and smoothed Bo's mottled fur; he was a mixed breed, something between beagle and a long-legged fox terrier. "Hey, buddy. You need some attention?"
"I'm thinking about getting a rescue," Carrie said then, settling back in her chair. Castle was washing the dishes in the kitchen, surprisingly out of the mix, and Kate glanced over her shoulder to check on him. He was bobbing his head to some music only he could hear and she felt the smile flicker over her face.
"A rescue?" she murmured, turning back to look at Carrie. "Another dog."
"Bo misses Sasha when she's not here. And it'd be good to have another one around. Mark wanted a couple of dogs, like hunting pals, but I thought Bo was all I could handle."
Kate tilted her head against her palm, her elbow propped up on the armrest as she studied Sasha's fur. "Did you and Mark ever want kids?"
"Oh, jeez, no," Carrie laughed, making Kate jerk her head up to look.
"No?" She left a hand on Sasha's neck, could practically feel the slow thump of the dog's heart. "Just the dogs."
"Just the dogs. Mark was one of those rare optimistic pessimists. He felt like the world was going to hell, but maybe he could change things. But in the meantime, no use having a kid to inherit that." Carrie gave her a slow, sad smile. "And I don't know. Kids give me the creeps."
Kate startled into laughter, raising a hand to cover her mouth. That her laugh wasn't hysterical, that it was honest amusement made her feel relaxed for the first time all day. "Give you the creeps, huh?"
"Babies." Carrie shuddered, and although Kate could tell she was playing it up, there was still an ease to her words that meant she truly never had wanted the same thing that Kate and Castle wanted for themselves. "Just - it's so messy. A little parasitical. And your body's never your own after that, and it's just - all the time - incessant, never-ending need. I couldn't do it."
Kate chuckled and shifted against the back of the couch. "Hm. Well."
"Oh shit," Carrie said, sitting upright in the chair. "Sorry. That - ignore what I said. Babies are great. You'll love it. I'm sure."
Kate laughed again at her friend's faked enthusiasm, but Carrie only shrugged. Castle came up behind Kate and pressed his hands into her shoulders, bearing down a little, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She looked over at him and gestured for him to sit.
"Hey there," he murmured. "What're we talking about?"
"How gross babies are," Kate smiled. His arm slid along the back of the couch, fingers tickling at her neck.
"They're gross? Hey, why didn't anyone tell me that?"
"Not too late," Carrie said with a shrug. "At least... I mean, unless there's something you wanted to tell me?"
Kate groaned. "You think I could even get pregnant? Like this?"
Castle growled but Carrie snickered as she shook her head. "Nope, not a bit. You're skin and bones. Barely make a dent in my couch."
"A shade of my former-"
"That's not funny," Castle muttered. "Not funny."
"It's kinda funny," Carrie said back, shrugging. "Kate?"
"Yup. Kinda funny."
Castle shot her a scathing look, but she saw the involuntary amusement stirring at the back of his eyes. She liked seeing it, liked that he was teasing a little too, that his fingers in her hair were both soothing and seductive.
"Can we move on from belittling my wife? She's already little enough."
Kate and Carrie both groaned, and Kate slapped at Castle's chest with a roll of her eyes. "That was lame."
"No way. That was perfect. Come on."
"Yeah, you're definitely not the brains of this outfit," Carrie laughed. "You better leave the smart-ass-ness to the wife."
"And what am I supposed to do?" he muttered.
Kate leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. "You're just arm candy, sweetheart. Might be good to know your place."
Before the evening was over, Castle got a text from Mitchell saying he couldn't get the regimen, and he sank back against the couch with a sigh. Felt like Mitch was blowing him off; he'd have to talk to him face to face, because he would have those supplements for Kate, even if it meant sneaking them out.
"So. You want to tell me your version?" Carrie remarked, one dark blonde eyebrow raising.
Castle glanced over at Kate to be sure she was truly unconscious; she'd fallen asleep on the couch only a few minutes after dessert, her head on Sasha's back, fingers curled in the dog's fur. Her legs were in his lap and he kept his hands over her ankles, finally turned back to Carrie.
"My version."
"Of your Russian vacation," she said. Bo was circling in a tight spot beside her chair, looking for a more comfortable position, and then he flopped to the floor with a huff. Carrie lowered her hand over the armrest and scratched the top of his head. "She played it off, but it had to be brutal. She's not - not the same. She's trying. But..."
"Yeah. You know I can't-"
"Leave out the classified bits, of course. But you and I both know there are parts you can tell me."
He hadn't ever thought of what Mark might have told her - the parts he could tell - or how much his old partner had protected his wife. He knew that Mark had started the journaling thing that he and Kate still continued - writing letters to his wife about the more emotional aspects of a mission - but how much had they talked to each other about this life?
Did she know how bad-
"I know how bad it can get," Carrie said, reading his mind. "When you nearly got your hand chopped off - who do think was the one who drove Mark to McGuire Air Force Base so he could fly to your bedside?"
Castle winced.
"Who do you think was the one waiting at home with your dog when weeks went by and still I'd heard nothing? I called Mitchell. He's the only contact I have there beside you guys, and I knew I couldn't call Black. Tell me I did right, Richard. Calling Mitch."
He sighed. "You did right. I'm sorry for that."
"So. Give me the real story."
"Kate and I have been on assignment in Russia for - most of the past month, little over."
"Little over," Carrie said, two fingers pressed to her lips as if to hide the smirk.
"Fine," he muttered, rolling his eyes at her. But like Kate, her snark lightened his mood. "I've been out for at least seven weeks, and Kate most of that time as well. We were needed for a - delicate situation. We got caught out in the field; we were in between two armed forces. A mortar shell went off and I was injured pretty badly. I don't know - don't remember it."
"That's what she meant," Carrie sighed, glancing to Kate, studying her.
Castle did the same, his eyes dwelling on the long line of her body as it stretched across the couch. Her hand was under her mouth, lashes brushing the dog's fur, her limbs settled heavily in sleep.
"She said you guys got separated. I guess she did the separating? To save your life, judging by the look on your face."
"She called for back-up and it happened to be my father who flew to the rescue. He managed to convince her she couldn't come - that he'd never get both of us out of there alive - and of course she agreed-"
"So you blame her."
"No," he grit out.
"Sounds like you do."
He took in a harsh breath and stared at Kate instead of looking at Carrie as she called him on his bullshit.
"Okay. She did the best she could. She - she saved my life and yeah, I'm having a hard time with her putting me first - above herself."
"She said you'd have died. But what happened to her?"
"Couldn't make it to the rendezvous. She got stuck in a series of caves while one of those armed forces hunted for her."
"For how long?"
"Nearly two weeks," he admitted. Carrie made a noise and he glanced up to see real distress on her face. She rose from the chair and sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, reached out to softly push back the hair from Kate's face.
"She's lost too much weight," Carrie said softly. "She needs a balanced-"
"We have some suggestions from the doctors in Germany, on base, but I've been trying to get hold of Mitchell and see if he can't get us some of the regimen."
Carrie turned troubled eyes to him. "You can't give her that."
"What?" He glanced swiftly to Kate. "Why not?"
"It's not - it's experimental, Richard. Jeez. Are you kidding me?"
"What are you talking about? The program - the CIA uses this program all the time. Shit, I've been on it since I was-"
"Five, yeah, I know." She winced and reached out to him now, squeezing his hand. "Mark told me. He thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"The regimen, Richard. It's not CIA based - the CIA doesn't do that."
He stared back at her. "What do you - no, look, after every damn mission, every rehab assignment I had - it was the regimen. He-"
Castle stopped short, swiped his hand down his face as he realized he was insisting that his father had been telling him the truth, that his father hadn't been deceiving him for his own purposes. Right.
"It wasn't anything that Mark ever had," Carrie said gently. "Richard..."
"Ah, shit," he groaned, leaning back against the couch once more, hand over his eyes. "Shit."
"You don't know what that stuff will do to her."
"Do you know what it is?" he asked, lifting his head as he heard the knowledge in her voice. "Eastman told you?"
"Mark was worried about you. He'd heard about this Army Ranger squad in Afghanistan who went AWOL after some experimental shit - rumors it was your father's stuff, a test he was doing. So he brought a vial home to me to see what we could figure out. A few of the pills too."
"To you?"
She tilted her head and gave him a funny look. "I was a chemist for a few years and then I became a registered dietician. You know that, right?"
"I guess I did. At one time?" Oh. A dietician. "You could help with Kate. Give us a kind of training diet, something to rebuild muscle, tailored to her, right?"
"Yeah, of course. You didn't get something like that from the doctors in Germany?"
"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "Not really. Just general warnings to stay away from alcohol and some medications. Her organs have been taxed by the dehydration and malnutrition, so they said not to make her liver do a lot of work."
"And there's more," she sighed, frowning over at Kate. "But yeah, I'll work up a care plan for you guys. You did get rehab assignments though, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded quickly. "CIA took care of that. For sure. Though we're having trouble getting in touch with the guy. And therapy - a shrink." He shot her a look but at least she was smiling back at him.
"Good, therapy is good. Not just for her, right? Because I think it's a good idea for you too."
He shrugged. "I'm most worried about her, but I've got a couple appointments. She's seeing Dr King - I think you saw him with Mark, right?"
"For a little bit, yeah. Dr King is the one you're seeing too?"
Castle shot her a look, warned by the tone of her voice. "What. Carrie."
"No, no, King is great. Really good, actually, because he's been with you since the beginning. He knows about whatever it is your father was giving you."
Castle felt the blood leech out of his face. "He does?"
"Not in a bad way," Carrie said quickly. "I mean - whatever it was in those drugs - I do know that mood enhancements were part of the chemical make-up, so it stands to reason that Black would need a therapist to keep track of that stuff."
"And King was the man for the job," he said stonily. "Why didn't Mark say something to me?"
"Richard - the injections, the pills, the whole thing? The best Mark could figure was that your father was getting you primed for the life. Wanted to make you in peak physical and mental condition. There were some unknowns in the vial of serum, plus some things I couldn't see how they helped or hurt you, not with my limited knowledge, but neither of us thought you were suffering because of it. And - and it was your father. We didn't know then what we know now."
He scraped a hand down his face again. "King was tracking me."
"I think a better term is monitoring? Just to make sure that whatever was in those supplements didn't have any adverse effects. So I'm glad you're seeing King. That's a good idea; he'll know your history."
Castle leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "But... it worked, right? The regimen worked. I was always out of the hospital in half the time they predicted. I am - or I was - in peak condition. So it worked."
She shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I - maybe? Mark tried to pay attention to you, keep on eye on things, but he wouldn't tell me much. And now he's gone."
He shut his mouth; he could see she wasn't happy with the idea of the regimen either, just like Kate. But it had worked. And if he could figure out what it was his father had given him, be certain of it, he'd use it on Kate too.
The doctors had warned him that it would be a long, uphill battle, that her organs might never be one hundred percent again, that the severity of her dehydration and malnutrition meant it was a miracle Kate had lived to make it to them.
It was his fault she'd been stuck out there so long. He needed to fix it. She wanted a family - they both wanted a family - and he could give that to her if he had those supplements.
"Richard?"
"If you don't mind, you can set up a diet for her?" he said quietly, meeting Carrie's eyes again so she couldn't see the other plans going on in his head. "A healthy eating plan, stuff for after rehab assignments, before workouts, whatever she needs."
"Of course," Carrie said softly. She gave him a hesitant touch, her fingers around his wrist. "And you might want to check in with Dr King. Okay? Because I don't know what being off the regimen for this long will do to you - you shouldn't quit mood stabilizers cold turkey."
He nodded. "Yeah. I understand. I'll ask him about it."
And a few other questions as well.
