Chapter Seven
Comfort and Confrontation
Rick turned his key in the lock at the loft and walked inside in time to hear loud sobbing coming from the open door to his bedroom. He yanked the front door shut dropped his jacket on the couch and ran for the bedroom door to find Kate thrashing on the bed and his mother trying in vain to either wake or calm her. He crossed the floor as Martha shot him a concerned look and he mouthed "How long?"
"Just a few minutes ago." Martha replied, her voice a hushed whisper, full of fear and concern, obviously rattled by Kate's distress "I heard her cry out in her sleep while I was in the kitchen."
He hadn't seen his mother look so haggard since Alexis had been kidnapped and his heart swelled at her concern for Kate's welfare. They switched positions, and he took Kate in his arms trying to calm her. Martha squeezed his forearm and kissed the top of his head before she backed away then turned for the door. Concerned every bit as much for her son as she was for Kate, feeling more than a little guilty that her meddling may have led to this.
"Shh, Kate...shh...it's okay." he soothed into her hair as he pulled her to him, "I'm right here...you're safe...I've got you...shh"
She never woke, but eventually his soothing ministrations had the desired effect and she slid into a calmer, more restful sleep. He gently lay her head back onto her pillow and replaced the blankets she had kicked aside during her nightmare around her before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
He knew that at some point he would definitely need to find something to smash, break, or take a Louisville Slugger to to deal with the anger boiling over inside of him. As much as he might want to, as much as it might make him feel more like a man, he knew that beating Jim Beckett to within an inch of his life was not the answer. The nightmares she was having were not entirely Kate's father's doing.
He'd seen more than one of her PTSD fueled nightmares since they had begun sleeping together and he knew these definitely fit the profile. Digging up this specter from her past had merely triggered them. She had buried this issue deep down years ago when she had forgiven her father, only now it had been dragged back into the light where she had to look at it. His running theory, based on his own observations of her, was that they were a manifestation of her feelings of powerlessness.
She had had similar dreams after both of her confrontations with Senator William Bracken this past year since discovering he was the mysterious "Dragon" who had had her mother killed, but was for the moment insulated and untouchable from the justice she sought, and with whom she now shared a tenuous detente which could end violently at any time. He knew the dreams would fade, like they had before, like his own nightmares from the freezer, or the morning she was shot had faded.
He knew he might have to revisit that part of their shared history eventually, the summer that nearly broke them. He hoped they could get a little deeper into therapy before that happened though. He wasn't sure he could handle that yet, but the lies and the evasions that pervaded the year before they got together, hell the last five years, were part and parcel of the problem at hand. Each of those previous four years would likely need to be looked at with new eyes and dissected to get to the heart of their communications issues.
The summer of 2011 was the one subject he had managed to sidestep in his week long marathon session with Dr. Burke, and he just didn't think he was ready to look in that particular dark corner of his psyche yet, but it was the elephant in the room that he knew eventually would have to come up, and it scared the shit out of him.
Three Hours Later
Kate Beckett usually wasn't the type to sleep in. Between her job and her active, athletic lifestyle she just tended to be up early, regardless of how much or little sleep she got the night before, in many ways she was a slave to her routines. Today, however, when she finally dragged her eyes open with a groan of protest and looked at Castle's alarm clock it read four o'clock PM. She hadn't felt this bogged down by sleep when she wasn't sick, injured, or heavily medicated since the weeks following her mother's murder. She dragged herself out of bed, surprised by how lethargic she felt having been down for nearly twenty two hours. She headed for Castle's en suite bathroom, stopping to grab a pair of yoga pants a clean pair of underwear and a fresh sleep shirt from Castle's closet.
She was momentarily amazed at how much of her wardrobe had migrated into his closet and never left, especially since her long stay during the period he was in a cast. At least five full work outfits, eight pairs of her power heels, four of her Burberry coats, her favorite cream colored leather jacket, two cocktail dresses (not including the one she wore for his birthday) and a wide assortment of casual wear from yoga pants and sleep shirts to swimwear and lingerie. This caused her to think to herself "I'll have everything but my furniture moved in here at this rate..." and for once that didn't seem to frighten her like it would have even a year ago.
She set the thought aside as she felt the irresistible pull of the shower as she adjusted the water temperature to her taste, stripped off her clothes and stepped inside. The hot water felt heavenly against her skin, the massaging spray of Castle's shower working her tired, sleep slackened muscles. She grabbed her cherry scented body wash and lathered up cleansing her body, if not her mind of the previous day's events.
She knew that Rick was going to want to talk, she knew he had questions, she could see it in his eyes. She could see the questions he wasn't asking on his lips, and she knew he holding them back by sheer force of will, because he thought that was what she wanted. She didn't want to hide things from him anymore, didn't want him to feel he had to restrain himself from asking things of her any more, but she didn't want to appear weak either.
She knew he would back off if she asked him to, but that had been their problem for years, something would happen and she would pull away and he would back off and let her. No matter how badly it hurt him. They had been doing this danse macabre around their true feelings for years, to the point where it had infected every part of their relationship and they were paying a heavy price for it now.
She had always been waiting for the right moment, the perfect right time to discuss things that were on her mind, only she never seemed to find that perfect moment to discuss her fears and misgivings and was only now realizing, there was no such thing as the "right" time, she just needed to dive in.
She knew it would take a conscious effort for her to change her part of their dynamic, it was why she had broached the topic of couples therapy. Only she knew now that she had also done it again, tried to make it safer for her than her partner, tried to put the ball in her court by choosing a therapist she had already invested in. Hadn't thought through what this process would cost Rick emotionally...just like she had when she took the job interview in DC and hadn't told him...had actively lied about it to him. It had backfired on her, because Carter Burke had seen her choice for what it was and actively worked to level the playing field, not once letting her off the hook.
Now she was finally beginning to realize that if she truly loved Rick, which in her heart she new she really did in spite of her insecurities, and she wanted a real shot at a future with him then that needed to stop. She needed step up more, and shoulder her share of the emotional risk by putting her cards firmly on the table.
She needed to stop running and hiding, stop pretending things didn't bother her needed to own up to her own feelings and share them with the one man she would ever want to share her heart with. Even though it scared the shit out of her. What they had together, what they could have if they were both willing to work for it, was worth facing her own fears.
The Kate Beckett who stepped out of Rick's bedroom twenty minutes later was a different creature from the quiet, small broken one whom Rick had led inside and dressed for bed the night before. She was rested and resolute and had steeled herself to do what was necessary to protect her future with the man she loves.
"Is there something about yesterday's session you want to know?" Kate asked quietly "Anything I can clear up for you?"
"I wasn't going to ask, you would tell me when you were ready." Rick murmured.
"You weren't asking very loudly." she replied, a ghost of a smile graced her lips at the memory of an elevator ride a long time ago when their relationship was not quite so complicated, as she lowered herself onto the couch pulling her legs in under her.
Castle looked down for a moment, a wan smile twitching his lips at the same memory. A time before the secrets and lies came between them, before things got complicated. It was gone when he lifted his head to meet her eyes.
"I went to see your dad today." Rick whispered, noting the flare of indignation that lit up Kate's eyes which she quickly quashed, she was no longer surprised by his need to know the whole story.
"I'm sorry, Kate, but I needed to know, and you were in so much pain that I couldn't do that to you again." Castle whispered quietly, but she could tell he wasn't sorry, he had scratched and clawed for everything he had known about her for years. It was what he said next that surprised her, even though it probably shouldn't.
"As a father, I needed to know his side, how he could do such a thing to his only daughter. I needed answer only he could give me. Only he didn't have any, and I was so angry."
"Please, Castle, tell me you didn't hurt him." Kate whispered, an almost pleading tone in her voice. It had taken her years to come to terms with what he did, to let herself love him again.
"No, Kate, I didn't hurt him, but I wanted to...especially after he showed me the file...and the pictures."
"File?" Kate breathed
"The one documenting your injuries, Royce had given it to him...as incentive to get help." Rick told her, his voice cracked, but didn't break. Kate was keeping her composure by sheer willpower alone, but he could tell she was rattled.
"I need to know, Kate," Rick asked, kneeling at her feet, taking her hands, "There were no signs of defensive wounds of any kind, why didn't you fight back?"
Kate's face fell as she dropped her head, looking down at the floor, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
"I don't know," she whispered, "when he first hit me with the bottle, I was in shock, and then he just kept hitting and kicking me. I screamed and I whimpered and I begged him to stop, but he didn't. He just kept hitting me till he was done. When I came to and locked myself in the bathroom I was ashamed...that I didn't stop him...that I couldn't get through to him...that I never fought back and let him beat me. That this was all my fault, that I was to blame, I wasn't good enough..."
Before she could finish her self flagellation, Rick pulled her into his arms in a fierce embrace.
"Kate...no...none of this was your fault...you didn't do anything wrong." Rick whispered in her hair.
They spent the rest of the day on the couch together, giving and accepting comfort from each other. Rick soothing away the last vestiges of her unearned guilt and her tears as she wept for her lost innocence, and Kate helped him sooth away his anger at a father who had failed to protect his daughter. They communicated almost without words, with only the gentlest of touches as they drew strength from each other.
They would be ready for the next session with Dr. Burke on Monday, but they would take Sunday just for them to decompress before getting back to it.
