Kate falls asleep after their lunch of grilled chicken sandwiches and the salad she had constructed on her own of the ingredients he had provided, curled up on the sofa with a movie neither of them had been paying much attention to still playing on the television. Castle covers her with a throw blanket, lets her rest while he calls his mother from the other room, placating her worries with a calm explanation of all that has happened.
"This is absolutely disastrous, for both of you. I can't even imagine how Katherine must be feeling," his mother had exclaimed, true concern for Kate in her words.
His mother knew how badly Beckett had wounded him, had informed him more than once that she wasn't necessarily his former partner's biggest fan, but Martha still cared about the woman he loved, had kept hoping they would somehow painlessly find their way back to each other. And they had, minus the 'painless' part, of course.
"She's holding up," Castle had sighed, retrieving Kate's shirt and jeans from the dryer while he talked with his mother, folding them atop the machine. "Much better than I had expected, honestly."
"And how are you doing, kiddo? Aside from the fact that you're currently in hiding and potential danger, is everything alright?"
"With Kate, you mean?"
"She is part of the all encompassing term of 'everything'," Martha had drawled and he had rolled his eyes, but the smile still crept across his lips.
"Good," he'd confessed, leaning back against the washer. "We're really good."
"Oh, Richard," his mother had gushed, genuine relief flooding through the speaker of the phone. "That's marvelous to hear. I just knew you two would work things out and I'm so utterly thrilled-"
"I am too, Mother, and I'd love to talk with you more about it, but for now, I need to keep this line clear and we probably shouldn't stay connected for too long anyway."
"Oh yes, darling, of course. I'll let you go, but don't hesitate to call if there's anything I can do."
"For now, just look out for Alexis, try to keep her away from this for as long as you can," he had sighed. He hadn't spoken to his daughter all week, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence these days. He was still close with Alexis, but there was a distance that had grown between them, a kind that had nothing to do with her living across the country. "And Mother, I love you."
"I love you too, kiddo. Stay safe. Both of you."
"We will," he had promised her, still refusing to believe otherwise. He and Kate were going to make it through this, one way or another. They had endured too much not to. And in comparison to past situations they've been in, this was really nothing.
They had survived nearly freezing to death, bullet wounds, bank explosions – a Senator and his goons were a mediocre threat in the grand scheme of things. At least, that's what he's going to continue telling himself.
Kate sleeps for hours, just as he had suspected she might, and doesn't wake from her dozing until the sun has set, replaced by the glow of the moon, and he's cooking dinner, the lasagna in the oven nearly finished.
"You should have woken me sooner," she rasps at his back, shuffling into the kitchen and lacing her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the blade of his shoulder as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
It still takes him by surprise, all of the touching, how effortless it is for her when before all of this, he was lucky just to hold her hand. Castle squeezes one of those hands bridged over his abdomen, caressing the slim bones of her fingers.
"You needed the rest. You're still recovering from a severe head injury," he reminds her, practically feeling her eyes roll from behind him. "And you hardly got any actual sleep last night."
"I got enough on the ride up here, this morning too," she points out, smirking against the back of his neck when he shivers at the kiss of her lips there.
"Must you do that while I'm working with a hot stove?"
"What's the matter, Castle? Can't handle the heat?" she teases, releasing him before he can turn around, forget about dinner altogether. "You cool down, I'll set out places."
He listens to her chuckle as she drifts off towards the dining table with their plates, the silverware, and for a second, he can imagine this is all part of their normal. He can pretend they're just here on vacation, taking a weekend away from the city to have some time to themselves on the beach. Not running for their lives from people who want her dead or incarcerated.
"Castle?" she calls, concern lacing through her voice as she notices him staring at her, still in his clothes and with her hair tied back into a loose ponytail at her nape. "You okay?"
"Yeah, fine, just wish I had brought you here sooner is all," he admits, and it's true. He wishes he would have swallowed down his pride, gotten over being hurt a long time ago. Maybe if he had, this past year could have been spent together, falling deeper in love with her and bringing her up to the Hamptons for summer getaways.
Instead, he had wallowed through it in misery, drifting from his daughter, shutting out his mother, and burying himself in book tours that left him with aching cheeks from all the smiles he had to fake.
"I'm here now," Kate reminds him, her smile timid but hopeful. "And once this is all over with, we'll come here again, thoroughly make up for lost time."
His returning smile is genuine. "I look forward to it. Especially since a year is quite a lot to make up for-"
"A single year? I was thinking at least several," she quips, biting the tender flesh of her bottom lip.
"Several?" he echoes, his eyebrows arching up towards his hairline, but Kate keeps her gaze to the table that she's taking her time arranging the two sets of silverware on.
"I'd say since the first time you initially asked me to come here with you," she nods, fiddling with a fork and Castle turns off the oven, approaches her with too many questions bubbling against the barrier of his lips.
"What are you talking about? You - you told me no back then. You were with Demming, remember?"
"Yeah, it was my fault. I waited too long to tell you," she replies, worsening the state of his confusion, but she doesn't make him wonder long, abandoning her fidgeting with the dishes to curl her fingers around the top of a chair instead. "I broke it off with Demming that day you had planned to leave. During your going away party, I asked you to step outside so we could talk, I was going to tell you that I-"
"Oh no," he groans, lifting both of his hands to cover his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms into his sockets. "Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me."
Kate chuckles, a quiet, sad little sound that wrenches his heart, but the graze of her fingers at his forearms, traveling upwards to draw his hands from his face softens the blow he knows is coming.
"I had hoped to tell you that I'd changed my mind, but then Gina showed up and it was just… too late," she sighs, but she's already blinking away the trace melancholy in her eyes when he opens his. "And it was probably for the best. The timing wasn't right."
"It's never the right time, especially not with us," he points out, knowing the whine is staining his voice, tugging a smirk across her lips, but the distress consuming his chest is all too real. "We could have been together, we still could have-"
"Here now," she reminds him, releasing his hands to splay hers along the cage of his ribs. "Believe me, Castle, I know. But going over the 'if only's is only going to drive us both crazy."
He hugs her, because he doesn't know what else to do, to say, so he wraps his arm around her and tries not to dwell so deeply on the memories now resurfacing, the look on her face when his ex-wife had shown up, the desolation in her eyes as she had wished him a great summer, the hope and overwhelming uncertainty in her question of 'see you in the fall'.
"Stop thinking so loud," she mumbles, her lips at his jaw and her knuckles coasting up and down his sides. "We missed a lot of opportunities throughout the years, but you took one when it mattered most."
He sighs, tightens the band of his arms around her shoulders before letting her go, drifting back towards the oven and their waiting dinner.
"Since when are you the positive one in this relationship?"
"Not necessarily positivity. Just realism, Castle."
He grins, opens his mouth to respond while he reaches for an oven mitt, but the buzz of his burner phone on the counter interrupts him, steals all of the playfulness from the room and replaces it with slow building dread. Rick redirects the course of his hand, draws the phone up to his ear and spares a look at Beckett, does his best to convey an expression of reassurance as he accepts the call from the Twelfth.
"Castle."
"Hey man, Beckett with you?"
Castle pulls the phone from his ear, beckons her closer as he presses the speaker button.
"She's here, Espo. What's wrong?"
"Nothing yet, so neither one of you panic," Esposito instructs them, but Castle can sense the but coming and knows Kate can too when she purses her lips, bracing herself. "But IA combed through Beckett's phone records again, saw she'd made some calls to you over the past few months, including one the day she went off the grid."
Kate's eyes flutter closed. "I'm such an idiot."
"Like I said, no reason to panic yet," Espo emphasizes. "They don't know anything for sure, but Marcus just sent some guys to Castle's loft and if he isn't there…"
"My mother knows what's going on, she'll cover," Castle pipes up, grateful he took the time to call his mother earlier despite his initial hesitation to fill her in on the situation.
"But they'll still view it as suspicious that you and I are conveniently out of town at the same time," Beckett sighs, scraping a hand through her hair, wincing as she encounters the fresh abrasions lining her skull. "We have to go."
"I think she's right, bro," Esposito agrees on a sigh. "You've got a head start, but if they send Hamptons PD to check out your pad, they're going to search the place for her, and if they find her-"
"They won't," Castle says with conviction. "We'll pack up right now, head north. I've already got the IDs, money, everything we need."
Kate startles, staring at him with wide eyes, her face draining of color, but he doesn't have any reassurances left to give right now, refuses to even hear the argument he's sure she's constructing in her head.
"Good, Ryan and I will contact you the second we know the status of Marcus's team. Wait for our call before you head out."
"Will do," Castle mumbles. "Thanks, Espo."
"You got it."
The line goes dead and Rick heads straight for the stairs, having to wait only a beat to feel Kate at his back, snagging him by the belt before he can make it to the second floor.
"I can't ask you to do this," she whispers, her eyes dark and terrified, and he doesn't think he's ever seen her look so scared. It has him wavering before he remembers what's at stake and begins to shake his head with fervor.
"Kate-"
"You're already harboring a fugitive, Castle, you can't go on the run with me too-"
"I love you," he growls, the reason for all of this, the only explanation he needs. "You're not asking me to do anything, I'm choosing this. Choosing you."
She stares up at him with so much conflict, regret and gratitude at war in her eyes, and Castle descends from the step above her to kiss her lips, abandoning the sense of urgency and sparing a precious moment to ensure she can taste the certainty he presses to her mouth.
"Rick-"
The ring of a doorbell has them both pausing, wide-eyed and pale faced, the panic already licking up his spine.
"Hide, hide, hide," he hisses, pushing the burner phone into her hand and shoving Beckett up the stairs while he sprints down them, bolts into the kitchen to rid the table of its second plate, shoving the dishes into the washer.
The doorbell rings again, this time accompanied by an insistent series of knocks.
"Coming," he calls out, sliding the oven mitt onto his hand, scanning the rooms he bypasses on his way to the door for signs of anything out of the ordinary.
The knocks grow more demanding, but once Rick finally reaches the door, tugs it open, he's greeted by a sheepish looking man, his uniform neat, as if it rarely saw much use, and an apologetic smile on his face.
"Good evening, Mr. Castle. My name is Chief Brady and I'm really sorry to intrude, but we received a call from the NYPD that there's a possibility you're harboring a fugitive, the rogue cop that's been on the news all day?" Brady informs him. "And we've been instructed to check it out."
"Rogue cop?" Castle repeats, stepping aside to allow Brady and the two fellow officers at his back past the front door. "I'm sorry, I drove out here a couple of days ago to write and haven't been keeping up with the news ever since, but you're welcome to have a look around."
"Thanks for your cooperation," Brady beams, looking all too relieved. He doubts the Hamptons Police could handle much, let alone a force like Kate Beckett, and Brady must know it. "But yeah, apparently, this cop… what was her name, Andrews?"
"Beckett," one of the other men quips while the four of them venture further into the house. "Shame, too. She's one hot cop. Hate to see her rot away in a cell."
"She used to be your muse or something, wasn't she, Mr. Castle?" the second of Brady's two men inquires, suspicion lining the older man's features, but Castle only nods, tapping into his years of watching his mother act, playing up the expression of shock that claims his face.
"Beckett's a fugitive?" he questions, coming to a halt once they reach the main room, leaning into the wall as if for support. "That… can't be right. I haven't seen her in years, but she – she would never-"
"Mr. Castle," Brady sighs, clapping Rick on the shoulder and offering him an expression of sympathy. "I'm sorry we had to be the ones to inform you of this tragic news, but throughout my years on the force, I've learned that, unfortunately, you never know someone as well as you think you do."
Castle swallows, nods in false agreement. "I guess you're right."
"And you say you haven't seen this woman in years?" the older cop, Collins, according to his nameplate, repeats, still skeptical, but his distrust is waning now.
"No, we… we used to work together, but things became too complicated and we decided it was time we went our separate ways," Castle explains, not exactly a lie, and Collins nods his understanding, sharing a touch of Brady's sympathy. "But I had no idea she had gotten wrapped up in something like this."
"Women," Andrews mumbles, shaking his head and glancing towards the stairs. "Want to take the second floor with me, Collins?"
Officer Collins nods, not much of a talker when he isn't interrogating, and starts towards the stairs with the blonde haired Andrews while Brady remains on the ground floor with Rick.
"You don't mind if I look around down here, do you?" Brady asks him and Castle shakes his head, doing his best not to shift his eyes towards the stairs, to let Brady in on the nerves swarming his insides.
They wouldn't find her. They wouldn't.
Brady leaves his side with another sympathetic smile, strolling through the living room, towards the bedroom Kate had stayed in earlier this morning. Rick heads in the opposite direction, back into the kitchen to retrieve dinner from the stove, and sighs his relief that he had disposed of the bloodied pillowcase, the towels in the bathroom.
Brady isn't gone long, joining Castle in the kitchen only moments after he's placed the lasagna on the stovetop to cool.
"Entertaining tonight?"
"I did have a friend coming over," Rick nods, throwing in a feigned smile at the implication Brady picks up on, but allowing it to fall under the weight of the news that appeared on his doorstep. "But I don't really think I'm in the mood now."
"Aww, now, don't let this ruin your plans," Brady consoles him. "Whatever happens with Detective Beckett is out of your control. No use worrying yourself over it, right?"
"No, you're right," Castle concurs, dividing up the servings of lasagna while Brady makes a show of investigating the kitchen, deeming it safe, but Rick is waiting for the men he can hear stomping around upstairs, trying not to hold his breath every time the noises stop.
"The place is clear, Chief," Andrews calls, bounding down the stairs with Collins in tow. "And we already had an officer search the property's perimeter, so I think we're good to go."
"That we are," Brady chirps, rounding the kitchen to join the two men drifting towards the door. Castle follows after them, his lungs expanding with their first full breath, and walks them out towards the driveway where two patrol cars sit waiting. "We apologize again for the disturbance, Mr. Castle. And that you had to find out about your friend this way."
"No apology necessary," Castle assures Brady, nodding to the other men who still offer him sympathy that is quickly growing patronizing. "I guess it was for the best that Beckett and I parted when we did."
"True that, wouldn't want to be caught up in a mess like this," Andrew mutters. "And I definitely wouldn't want to have to deal with those guys at Internal Affairs. They're chomping at the bit to find this chick, and the longer they go without, the more pissed the guy in charge becomes."
"From what we've heard," Brady shrugs, already opening the door to the driver's seat of his vehicle. "But it's not our problem anymore. Let the NYPD handle it."
"Do call us if you have any form of contact with Detective Beckett, though," Collins adds, narrowing his grey eyes on Castle. "That woman is dangerous, Mr. Castle, and probably desperate."
"I can assure you, if I hear anything, you guys will be my first call," Castle lies, grateful when all three of them seem to buy his words without question.
"Thank you for your time," Brady calls out, slipping into his car with Andrews, Collins sliding into the other, and Rick takes his time making his way back to his door, stepping back inside and waiting until both cars are out of his driveway, too far up the road for him to see any longer.
And then he races for the stairs.