Jane Doe


Kate jerks awake in the middle of the night, heart pounding, and for a moment she doesn't even know who she is. The room is not one she recognises, the mattress beneath her more comfortable than any she has ever owned. And then she remembers; she's in Richard Castle's bed. She married him, and it's her bed now too.

Laying back down, Kate presses a palm between he breasts, over the scar from the bullet that ripped its way through her chest. Earlier tonight, after she stopped crying, after the strange mixture of grief and release abated a little, she had sat up on the couch and managed a watery smile for Castle. He had wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs and kissed her cheek, before another yawn had overtaken him.

Right now, he's asleep in the guest room. She's making progress, actively trying to be open to the idea that she was once in love with this man. And really. . .she could have done a lot worse. He's handsome, kind, funny and loving. A wonderful father, and already she can see that she's very lucky to have him. That of all the people she could have woken up married to, it's him.

A noise from the baby monitor on her nightstand cuts through the swathes of darkness and she realises that this is what must have woken her initially. Her little boy, crying out for his mother upstairs. Only, she doesn't know if she can be a comfort to him. Kate sits up and swings her leg out of bed, rests her feet flat against the floor and waits to see if Marlow's father will wake and go to their son.

There's nothing, only silence in fragments interspersed with Mal's upset. Castle got no sleep in the hospital the night before and so she knows he must have been wiped out, is probably dead to the world right now. Kate stands up and grabs a robe that's lying draped over an armchair in the corner of the room. Tugging it on, she pads in socked feet all the way through the living room and up the stairs, moving as quietly as she can down the hall.

When she nudges open the door to Marlow's room, her son is sitting up in bed and the blue glow from the nightlight next to his bed makes him look almost garish, an alien. For just a moment, and then he sees her and reaches out and Kate hurries to his side and scoops him up, taking the blanket with him.

She wraps it around her son's little body, limp and heavy with sleep as it is, and she moves to sit in the rocking chair over by Mal's window. Tugging the cord on the blinds, she opens the slats so the moonlight can come streaming in and she wipes at Marlow's tears, holding him as close as she can. "Shh baby, you're okay. Mommy's here, shh."

"Mommy." Mal chokes out on a sob, burying his face against her and his tears soak through the oversized jersey sweater she's been sleeping in, her skin prickling at the wetness.

Kate strokes her fingers through his hair and lets instinct take over, tries not to think too much about it as she rocks them in the chair and kisses Marlow's forehead, his cheek, the end of his nose. "I'm here, my sweet boy. I got you. What happened? Did you have a bad dream? It's okay, Mommy's here."

"I scared." Mal mewls, rubbing his nose against her collar bone. He's heavy like this, curled up close against her chest, and she shifts her arm underneath him to get a better grip.

"You woke up and you were frightened?"

"Yes." Her son whimpers, but already he's coming down from the crying jag. She rocks him, keeps carding a hand through his hair and rubs his back with her other as his breathing starts to even out. Kate stays there for a long time just holding her baby boy, letting him feel the warmth and the closeness of her body.

It's amazing, to be able to bring him so much comfort just by being here. Just being Mommy for him is enough, and she's so glad. Mal asks so little of her, and so far it has been easy to slot into the role of mother. She just wishes she could offer as much comfort, as much love, to Castle too.

Kate feels the exact moment her son falls back to sleep, his body going slack in her grip. Marlow's head is pressed against her neck and he snuffles, his fingers opening into a starfish shape at her collarbone. She sits perfectly still for a long time, just holding him and marvelling in the life of this child in her arms. He's a beautiful boy, and he's happy. Both Castle and her father told her that she's a good mother for her son, that she's doing a good job, but she couldn't quite believe it until she saw Mal for herself.

Eventually, she stands up and eases Marlow back down to the mattress, drawing the sheets up around him and making sure his stuffed giraffe toy is close by in case he reaches for it in the night. Kate brushes a kiss to her son's cheek and finds his ear, murmuring for him. "I love you more than anything, my sweet boy."

When she stands and turns around to head for the door, a patch of darkness detaches and comes towards her and her heart leaps into her throat a moment before plummeting, pounding hard against her ribs. Kate closes her eyes and sucks in a startled breath, opening them again to see Castle watching her intently. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. He alright?"

"Yeah. Just a bad dream." Kate murmurs, turning to look at their son again. Marlow has rolled onto his stomach, the giraffe clutched in his grip and his mouth open as he drools onto his pillow.

When she glances over at her husband again, he's smiling tenderly at their son and he comes to stand at her side, their shoulders almost brushing. "He has those, yeah. Usually only needs Mommy or Jolly Tall to make him feel better though."

"Jolly Tall?" Kate lifts an eyebrow, watching their son as his chest rises and falls, heavy with sleep. His cheeks are pink, his hair a little damp and matted with sleep-sweat, but she doesn't think she's ever seen anything so beautiful.

"Yes. Jolly Tall is the giraffe's name. Did you ever see Old Bear Stories when they used to be on television? Alexis loved them; she had all the books too. And then she read them to Marlow, and Jolly Tall got his moniker."

Kate huffs a laugh, and then she swallows her pride and tips her head to the side until her cheek meets his bicep. His arm wraps around her shoulders immediately, an automatic reaction, and he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. And it's. . .nice. Kate has never really been a snuggler, hasn't tended to seek comfort in the closeness of someone else's body.

But Castle's fingers are smoothing up and down her arm and he's warm and he smells great and they made a person, together. She thinks maybe it could be okay to need him, to want him close by. "He's amazing, Rick."

"He is." Her husband agrees, squeezing her a little and drawing her in closer against him. "I'm sorry I didn't wake up for him. There's no monitor in the guest room, and the walls are pretty soundproof up here."

Shrugging, Kate glances up at him, and then she does a very brave thing. She stretches up on tiptoe and she brushes a kiss to Castle's cheek. Not anywhere close to his mouth, more the kind of kiss Aunt Theresa gives her every time Kate sees her father's sister, but it's a step in the right direction. "He's my son too, Castle. I don't mind. It was nice to be able to comfort him."

"You're comforting me, too." He blurts out, seeming to surprise even himself. Marlow stirs a little and the two of them freeze, watching until he settles again. He does, body going slack, but Castle untangles himself from around her shoulders and snags her hand instead, leads her out of the room with him.

They head for the guest room, the sheets all crumpled up where Castle has slept in them, and they sit together on the end of the bed. The loft is quiet, but outside the open window the city swells and spills over with life, even in spite of the late hour.

Castle scrubs a hand over his jaw and Kate's mouth goes dry at the sight of his stubble, a baser part of her imagining what it would feel like if he dragged his lips over her skin. "When we first met, Kate, you had a wall inside. And I was. . .a jackass. You didn't like me very much, and I don't blame you. So I guess, when you woke up and you didn't know me, I thought you would be like you were then. But you're not. You're here."

"Well, Castle, if you're a different guy than you were then I guess it makes sense that I'd react to you differently." She shrugs, chewing on her lip. Honestly, she can't really imagine not liking this man. He's been so wonderful to her, even when she's been cold and angry and she's yelled at him.

He smiles, thumb stroking over the back of the hand he's still holding. "I think I was halfway in love with you inside of five minutes." He laughs, shaking his head at himself. "But I made things difficult for you. Not always on purpose, but I did. It took a while to earn your trust."

"I trust you now, Castle." She says, surprised to find how much she means it. Yes, she doesn't really know him. But they have a son together and she married him and she let him help with her mother's case, and all of those things stack up as evidence to prove that this man, her husband, is someone she can rely on.

That seems to have startled him and he stares at her, face steadily unravelling into shock as she watches. He swallows a couple times and then he manages to get himself together, clutching her fingers tight in his own. "You do?"

"I married you, didn't I?" She huffs, arching an eyebrow at him. "I wouldn't have done that if you weren't someone I could trust." A yawn barrels its way into her and Kate presses a hand over her mouth to hide it from him. "Sorry."

"It's late. We should go back to bed." Castle says through his own yawn, apparently having caught it from her. He smiles at her, catching her around the wrist before she can stand up to hold her in place as he leans in and brushes his lips to her cheek.

So very much closer to the corner of her mouth than she dared earlier and it makes her blood rush, means she has to sit for a beat longer than she might have done if her legs hadn't just turned to water beneath her. And then she gets to her feet as gracefully as she can manage and squeezes his shoulder on the way past, heading downstairs and back to bed.


Castle wakes with a sharp jerk and a gasp of his breath, sits up against the headboard to see the door of the guest room nudging slowly open and his son slinking inside and tottering his way up to the bed. He snags his phone and checks the time, sees it's just past seven.

At the side of the bed, Marlow stretches his hands up and Rick swings his son up onto the mattress and tugs the sheets up around them both, draping his arm heavy over Mal's back. Neither of them is really awake yet, and so Castle is content to laze just a little longer. His phone flashes with a message alert and he unlocks it, pulls up the text and sees that it's from his wife.

I'm at the precinct. Didn't want to wake either of you to say goodbye.

His stomach churns and Rick draws their son closer against him until Marlow's breath curls out against his neck. Since their boy was born, Castle has gotten used to his wife being around in the mornings. If there's an active case, an early warrant to serve, then sometimes she'll be gone. But she doesn't drag herself out of bed to be at the precinct for six in the morning anymore. Instead, she's the one to get up for their son and either bring him back to bed to curl up with both Mommy and Daddy or cook breakfast with Mal's help and wake Rick when it's ready.

He supposes it makes sense. This is 2008 Kate, and it's default for her to drag herself out of bed at five and stumble into the shower, be ready to go before the sun manages to struggle over the horizon. At least, he thinks inanely, she remembered that they're married and that she needs to text him. He can't imagine what he would have done if he'd woken up and found her gone.

Yesterday afternoon, when Kate was asleep, Castle had called the precinct to tell Captain Gates what has happened. Tell her that her best detective is missing ten years of her life. The captain had asked that Beckett come to the precinct at some point today to discuss where they go from here, what kind of revaluation Kate might need to undergo. Rick had dutifully passed along the message, and Kate had said she was fine, at least physically, that she wanted to go back to work.

It's a more familiar environment, he supposes, one that she actually remembers. Even so, he wasn't expecting her to head out quite so early. It's been two nights, only two, but his whole body aches with a desperate yearning to have her close. To sleep at her side where she's warm and snuggly and she orients towards him, works to keep him close.

"Daddy." Marlow says insistently, struggling to escape from underneath the arm that Castle still has laying over the boy's body to pin him to the mattress. Usually he likes it, giggles with delight to find himself trapped, but now he's frowning and shoving at Rick's forearm with both palms. "I gotta go potty."

"Oh, sorry, my man." Castle says, swinging his son out of bed and following close behind, watching as his son barrels down the hallway towards the bathroom. They both use it (Mal hops from foot to foot and giggles hysterically while he waits for his father) and then Rick swings his little boy up into a piggy back and carries him down to the kitchen.

They're just finishing up breakfast when the door to the loft swings wide open and reveals his mother standing in the threshold with bags all around her ankles. She throws her hands up and Castle releases Marlow from the high seat and sets his son to the floor, lets him go charging for his grandmother.

"Hello there, my darling. I've missed you terribly." His mother says, lifting Mal right up into the air a moment before she draws him in close. She's seventy five years old, but she has aged with grace and with resilience. Every time he gets maudlin, thinks about what life might be like without her, Kate huffs at him and insists that there's plenty of life left in Martha yet.

Rick comes to join his mother and son at the entryway, shifting her luggage inside of the loft so he can close the door behind her. Cupping her elbows, he kisses her cheek and receives a brushing of her lips right back. "Mother, I wasn't expecting you home so soon. There are another three weeks left of the tour, I thought?"

"That's right, darling." His mother says warmly, Marlow at her hip now. "But I withdrew from the remainder of the production. My understudy is more than capable, and I'm needed here."

He wants to tell her she isn't, that he's handling it, but he really doesn't know that he is. Marlow is oblivious, both of his parents somehow managing to keep afloat for him, but Rick is floundering. Grieving his wife, really, even though she's right here in front of him.

He can't help but feel as if he's lost her already. That she's just biding her time, and one day she'll disappear on him and take their son with her and he'll lose the two most precious things in his life. Just the thought drags at him, makes him want to crumple to the floor, but Mal is reaching out and so he has to take his son instead.

His mother notices, of course, but she says nothing. Not until a while later, Mal playing upstairs in his room and the two of them free to talk. "Darling. You were very vague on the phone."

Rick drops his head to the back of the couch and presses his palms against his eyes, doing his best not to groan or snap or cry. None of this is his mother's fault, or Kate's, or anyone's except the jackass that rammed into his wife's car. It's Neanderthal of him, he knows, but he can't help feeling like he's the one they all rely on, the three women he loves the most. And he can't lose it in front of any of them.

"I said that Kate had been in an accident."

"You also said she wasn't hurt." His mother frowns, grabbing for his hand and squeezing tight. Hers are fragile, thin with age, and it makes his throat close up to feel the delicacy of his mother's grip. "Richard."

"She hit her head. And. . .she thinks it's 2008." He says it so quietly, but he knows that she's heard because she goes completely still and the very air seems to vibrate around the shock of her gasp for a long, drawn out moment. "She doesn't remember anything of our relationship."

His mother – for perhaps the first time in her life – is utterly speechless. She gathers him in for a hug and he goes willingly, his head against her chest and his eyes closed. He feels brittle and vulnerable, not at all how he imagines Marlow must feel when he's cradled against Kate.

But then, his son is two. Not rapidly approaching fifty. "Mom, I don't know what to do. What if she doesn't ever remember?"

"Don't you dare give up on that woman, Richard, because in all the years you have been together she has never given up on you." His mother says, almost stern, but he's so grateful. He needs it, needs someone to tell him to stop moping and get on with it, that everything will turn out alright.

That person is usually his wife. "She's trying so hard, I can see that she is. But she's more the woman I first met than the woman I married. And I'm afraid-" He cuts himself off, can't even manage to voice his worst fears.

"That this time around, she might not fall in love with you." His mother says slowly, and he bows his head under the blow of the words. "Darling, do you know how ridiculous that is? Kate adores you. And even if she doesn't get her memories back, you're still the man she loves."

"She's doing so good with Marlow." He admits, lifting his chin to meet his mother's unwavering gaze.

She smiles at him, squeezing his hand in one of hers and waving the other as if to say see. "Richard, I know Katherine. You two are right for each other. I'm sure she'll see that. In the meantime, just keep being there for her."

"That's all I want. I just don't know if she'll let me." He's trying not to be morose, really he is. It's just so damn hard. All he wants to do, all he's wanted for nine years, is to be allowed to love her. And for six of those years he has done, and it has been glorious.

He adores Katherine Beckett, feels the truth of it deep in his soul, and all he needs is for her to be close by and to take care of her. "Well, Richard darling, she came home with you didn't she? She's trying, at least."

"Yeah. She is. I guess I just wish that she didn't have to. You've seen her, how naturally she fell into life with me. My wife is very good at being in love, and this Kate isn't that woman." Admitting it tastes sour in his mouth, but it's true. He loves her, of course he does, but he feels like he has to work at it where he didn't before. "I don't know what to do."

"You do what you've always done." His mother says, as if it's obvious. "You stay by her side, and you show her every day that you love her. In the small ways, and the big ones."

Right. He is trying, really he is. It's just that it's an automatic reaction now, to kiss her whenever she's near, to tell her he loves her every time he wants to, to drag her body against his and palm her ass. He doesn't trust himself to be able to hold back around her. "I miss her. And I feel like an idiot for it, because she's right here, but I do."

"Darling, that's completely understandable. Is she going to visit her therapist again?" His mother asks, her hands clasped now and pressed between her knees.

He shrugs, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the past few days smack into him. "I don't know. I guess I should talk to her about that. Let her know the option's there."

"Yes. And, Richard? I think you should consider seeing someone yourself. This is a lot to process."

Immediately, he recoils at that idea, but his mother knows him well. She doesn't try to push the issue, just gives him space to figure it out. To see that actually, she's right. "I suppose that's probably a good idea. Maybe I can figure out how to be better for her."

"Richard." His mother says sharply, frowning at him. "You are so good for her. Please don't tear yourself apart trying so hard and getting nothing back from her. I watched that happen to you once and I don't want to see it again. Katherine is a grown woman, a wife and mother. And yes she doesn't remember it, but she still has those responsibilities."

He nods, says nothing. Because he isn't about to tell his mother that he's afraid those responsibilities are the thing that is going to make the woman he loves run from him.


A/N: I don't usually leave author's notes but I have a few things I need to say so it's happening on this chapter I do apologise. Firstly - THANK YOU! The reception for this fic has been just incredible and I'm so grateful for all of the tweets and the reviews and all of your kind words. That being said, some of you have questioned things or been confused and have said so in reviews, but because you've been guests I haven't been able to clarify! If you have a question and you want to be anonymous, please come and leave me an ask on tumblr so I can actually respond. I'd be very grateful.

Secondly, my exams start a week today and finish June 12th, and it's pretty unlikely that there will be an update until after they are over. I have to focus on studying for the time being, rather than writing. But I'll be back and things will be back to normal after June 12th, if you guys can be patient with me until then.

Lastly - today is my three year anniversary of writing fanfiction! I've learned (and improved) so much in that time, and it's the enjoyment that all of you get from my writing that makes me want to keep doing it, so thank you!