At some point in the past three months, the 12th had found a new rhythm without the presence of Castle. The solve rate maintained a steady high even without the chair that used to reside by Beckett's desk. Detectives filtered in and out of the elevator doors and finally stopped looking in her direction, checking for the writer and examining Beckett's face for any signs of an impending mental breakdown.
At least four times a week she stopped by Castle's loft, never having to worry about being alone with him. They'd instituted a babysitting system: either Martha or Alexis had to be home at all times to monitor his phone and computer usage, not to mention to hide the keys. After bringing him home from the hospital, they quickly realized he not only had no control over what he said, but he also had a spending problem. They were lucky he'd made so much money, or they'd be out on the streets by now.
He'd slowly learned how to read body language more effectively and steer clear of embarrassing questions. They told him when he crossed a line, and while he at first would argue, he eventually accepted that he couldn't trust his own mind and had to trust theirs instead.
Each of Beckett's visits reflected how much progress he made from that day's therapy session at the hospital. He went from spewing his feelings and making everyone want to crawl out of their skin to remaining silent when his thoughts were too intruding.
Slowly they shared old photos and reminisced over the times they shared. Beckett shared some heroics from the precinct, but mostly watched from outside their circle, pleased to see him smile when Alexis made a point to let him know what a wonderful father he was.
Alexis had grown up a lot in three months. While Beckett and Martha both encouraged her to go out and have a social life, she felt responsible and would stay home most nights to watch over her dad. She obsessed over sharing every little thing she remembered, even going so far as to keep a diary with her so she could jot down her thoughts on the spot.
Beckett watched the youthful cheer fade from her expression, replaced by a heavy weight she carried with grace. She didn't share the burden willingly, wouldn't dare ask for help. In her mind, he'd taken care of her for her entire life. She wasn't going to let him down when he needed her most, even if it tore apart the life he'd worked hard to give her.
Martha stopped drinking a few days after he arrived home. The wine had to go anyway, or Castle would sniff it out and his tendency to cross lines would only worsen. The last thing this family needed was a tipsy grandmother on top of an incapable father and an over-burdened daughter.
They somehow made it through each day with a smile, rejoicing every small step Castle made in the right direction. Despite all evidence that he wasn't going to simply wake up and remember his life from BC (before coma), they went to bed with the hope tomorrow would be different.
Beckett knew better than to look on the bright side, though; it only blinded her, and that's when unpleasant surprises got in a blow before she could raise her fists. She carried on with her job, did what she could to help the Castles, and tried her damnedest to keep the nightmares away when she finally fell asleep at night.
Regardless of the display of strength, their system had many flaws, and it couldn't continue forever. They were behind on sleep for weeks at a time, and the guilt hallowed out Castle's cheekbones and darkened the bags under his eyes.
They all knew the day would come when their structured lives would fall prey to chaos. All expected it. All waited for it.
The waiting stopped with one phone call to Beckett's desk on a Tuesday morning, right as she sat down. "Beckett," she answered with a smile, recognizing the number as Alexis'.
"I need a favor." Alexis was hesitant, pausing in the short sentence more than was necessary.
"Anything," she assured her, confident it wouldn't be anything too huge. On more than one occasion Alexis had asked her to make a quick run to the store while Martha was away. Surely this favor would be something along those lines.
"Gram had to go take care of something at the bank and then run by her acting class, and I have a test in third period," she rushed, the request implied rather than voiced.
Beckett hoped she was jumping to the wrong conclusion, but the drop of her stomach had her grateful she was sitting down for this. "Yes?"
"I need you to watch him for a few hours."
The sound of her agreement seemed miles away; she was stuck in her own mind, eyes clenched shut as she tried to steady her breathing. He'd improved. Maybe he wouldn't be that bad.
But she knew that was just hopeful thinking. It was clear in the way he looked at her every night that he wanted to finish that conversation from the hospital, wanted to ask her questions about their partnership he'd learned not to bring up in front of his family. Now he would have his opportunity.
She hung up, sitting still for minutes before gathering the courage to walk out of the precinct and into a situation she swore to herself she would keep away from.
xxxx
Her stomach did an entire Cirque du Soleil performance on the way to Castle's loft. She tried convincing herself it would go well, but her mind knew better, and her stomach readily agreed.
Years of hiding her nerves helped give Kate the appearance of being cool and collected. She knocked no differently than usual, smiled when Alexis opened the door, and stepped in with no sign of trepidation. She casually scanned the room for Castle, but he was nowhere to be found.
"Dad's trying to write," Alexis told her knowingly. "The Wi-Fi is turned off, so you don't have to watch him." Grabbing her purse, she stopped with one hand on the door. "Gram will be back in just a couple of hours. You'll be fine."
Kate nodded, trying to convey she wasn't worried at all, though they both knew better. "Knock 'em dead," she told the young girl.
Alexis grinned and nodded before finally shutting the door, effectively stranding Kate with the only thing in this world she truly feared.
The silence that followed the door clicking shut disturbed her, sending chill bumps down her arms. In it hung the decision of whether she should approach him and end the awkwardness between them or if she should sit on the couch and try to ignore his presence.
She sighed, resigning to the inevitability of this conversation. He was seeking answers to questions he had every right to ask, and she'd stood by and given out the bare minimum as a response. Kate needed to walk in there and tell him the simple facts: there were feelings from both sides, but nothing had been done about it, and nothing will be done about it because everything is fucked up and confusing on a level she'd never come across before.
Bracing herself, she walked into his study, grateful that his back was turned so she didn't have to look at him when she started this conversation. He didn't appear to have heard her approach, which only disappointed her a little. This would be easier if he could address it first.
"Ahem," she coughed, smiling when he jumped in his seat, turning to face her in shock.
Once it registered that she was there while his family was not, the shock morphed into a massive sigh of relief. He set the laptop down and gestured to a chair opposite his desk, which she gladly sat in. "I'm surprised," he told her honestly, as was custom.
Kate blushed, a response far out of reach. Her eyes fell on a stack of paper near the edge of the desk. "What's that?" she asked with curiosity, though her only interest was in delaying the conversation she'd set off to have when she walked in. Without meaning to, she'd become a walking contradiction, an embodiment of conflicting emotions.
He stretched his arms above his head and sighed, pulling out the breath from deep inside. "My failed attempts at the next Nikki Heat novel."
Her eyebrows rose and fell without permission. "I didn't realize you were still planning to continue that." Her thoughts turned to the forgotten box in her closet and the layer of dust resting on top.
Castle shrugged. "I want to. I've read the first three books and all of my notes. Luckily I had the case outlined already, but it isn't doing much good. I can't feel it, you know?" His eyes searched hers for understanding.
"Hmm, yes," she offered in reply, sorry she'd asked and afraid he would ask to shadow her again. She hadn't gotten around to telling him he never could step a single, inspiration-seeking foot inside the precinct as long as she was around to stop him. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.
"Could you read it?" he asked, almost sounding nervous.
Kate studied his face and the stack of paper he now held out to her expectantly. "Sure," she agreed, handling the paper like a fragile, irreplaceable item he was entrusting to her.
Castle examined her reaction as she began to read, only to be stopped when she glared and asked for a little privacy. She could see the restraint he employed just to keep from watching her, and it gave her a little hope for how the morning would turn out. Maybe he could control himself when she finally managed to deliver her half-scripted monologue.
It only took her thirty minutes and a few more glares to finish. Her head fell on the back of her chair, eyes sliding shut while she thought on exactly how describe the way she was feeling. "You must have taken a lot of notes," she mumbled, rubbing her temple with the hand not still clinging to his work.
He was clearly unsure if that was a compliment or not. "I did," he said, drawing out the syllables in confusion.
"The mechanics are right," she said through tight lips, head still tilted back.
"But the characters aren't?" He didn't sound surprised, nor overly upset. He sat up in his chair, interested in whatever criticism she had to offer.
Kate did the same. "They're good characters, but they aren't the same. They aren't us."
He slanted his eyes. "I was under the impression they weren't supposed to be us, at least not exactly. If they are, then we really need to talk about some of the scenes I wrote."
That got a chuckle out of her, and some of the palpable tension dissipated, leaving her feeling more free to share her thoughts. "No, you're right." A hint of a smile remained on her face while she fought to explain. "They're witty and fun like usual. There's just something missing."
"The emotional undercurrent," he agreed, nodding his head sagely. "The humor is easy. I've seen it in the past few months. It's the emotion I'm struggling with." There was a question buried in that statement, and it wasn't a subtle one.
This is it, she told herself, arms crossing over her now very upset stomach. The moment she'd skirted around from their beginning over three years ago. This would define them.
"Tell me," he asked in a whisper, and she could tell by his glassy eyes he wasn't going to force her. This would be the last time he asked, but how could she say no? These were his memories as well as hers, and she had no right to keep them from him.
"We've never had this conversation before," she said with a shaky voice, and his kind smile told her how much he appreciated her opening up now. "God, I don't even know where to start, Rick."
"Alexis has told me what I told her. I know part of my side, but ¾ of it is still missing. You're the last piece."
His words hit her with a great force, launching her back in her seat as if she'd been shot. Her eyes flickered to the floor, but they were drawn back to his face time and time again. "There was this…" she struggled to find the right word, eyes widening when it came to her. "Energy. There was an energy between us."
"Yes?" he pushed for more. Unable to sit still now that this was finally happening, he paced behind his desk, eyes never leaving her for more than a few seconds.
She suppressed the urge to pace along with him. "It's like we were magnets, fighting against the pull."
"I can feel that. I could feel it when I first saw you after the coma. It was painful. Why did we fight it?"
Kate clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Fear, mostly, at least for me. We had all the time in the world, so no time seemed right."
He laughed at that, standing still for a moment to appreciate the irony. "What bullshit," he muttered. "All the things we missed. I guess it doesn't really matter, though. I wouldn't remember any of it."
She sighed and closed her eyes against the pain. "I wish they had happened. I would love to have memories like that to share." She hadn't intended to go this far. It should have taken a different course, one steered by her logical brain and not her emotional heart. And yet, she couldn't stop.
Castle abruptly moved from his safe distance away from her, stopping when there were only inches between them. "Why do you keep your distance, then? There's nothing stopping us."
No sooner were the words out and he'd seen her reaction than he wanted to take them back. She shifted in her seat, rising out of it nearly sideways to avoid touching him.
"Nothing stopping us?" she asked incredulously. "Everything is in our way. There are so many more important things to worry about."
In his heightened state of emotion, everything he'd learned about body language was thrown out the window. He approached her despite the alarms sounding in her eyes. "This worries me more than anything. I can see you retreating more week by week. I'm losing you, and I don't even remember having you in the first place." His eyes glassed over again, betraying the deep, longing sadness he felt.
"You never really did," she spat out, wanting to hurt him and comfort him at the same time. She saw the flash of pain in his eyes, making her regret the words despite their truth.
"No," he agreed solemnly, "but I could. I'm learning everyday how to be myself again, but none of it feels right when you won't so much as touch me. You're all that's missing, Kate."
His arms stretched out, leaving enough room for her body to fit between them and his chest, but she only shook her head at the gesture. "This won't help you. It won't help anyone. You just need to get back to-"
"Normal?" he finished, rolling his eyes but keeping his arms out in an open invitation. "We don't know if that will ever happen. This is all we have. This is our second chance, and you're ruining it."
He was right, and she knew it. The difference was she knew how much was at stake. Castle was in a fragile place emotionally. She didn't want to cause any waves in the stability they were trying to establish for him; it would slow his recovery.
She was stuck as the bad guy, telling him no for his own good and for the good of his family. Kate couldn't be selfish and give them both what they wanted; if it undid his work, if the shift was so big he couldn't rehabilitate to his full potential, she would be solely responsible.
He stared into her eyes and watched the warring emotions, getting fed up and slapping his hands down against his thighs. "Your silence is going to be the death of us. Just talk to me."
Kate looked at him – really looked at him- and took in every wrinkle in his worried face, every inch of him that was counting on her. Tears spilled against her will, and his arms once again reached out to her.
She collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and breathing him in like she'd been longing to. "There's too much at risk," she whispered into his ear.
He nodded, feeling her hair soft against his cheek. "Then what? You continue to keep yourself at a distance, watching me fight to get better? Watching me want you?"
Kate shook her head, rubbing her tears into his shirt. "I don't want that."
"What do you want?" His hands rubbed circles in her back, relishing what little he could get before she would inevitably slip out of his hold.
"It doesn't matter," she muttered bitterly. "What I want isn't what's best for you, or for Alexis." Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck.
Castle's heart tightened in his chest. "You're extraordinary."
She jerked away, but he wouldn't let her get very far. He held her elbows, looking into her surprised, watery eyes. Whatever he saw there, it told him not to ask why that sparked something in her.
"I think I'm going to watch some TV," she lied. As she tried to brush away the wet trails on her cheeks, he gently pulled her hand back from her face.
"No. You're not getting out of this so easily." His hold, though loose enough to give her free will, bound her to the spot.
"Don't," she pleaded, knowing full well how easily she would bend if he used his words. She wanted this too much to keep denying it to herself.
He moved his hands from her elbows to each side of her face. "I promise things will get better. I want you with me when it happens."
Kate shook her head some more, coming off as a petulant child. "You can't guarantee that." She pulled back from his touch, but he was quick to react.
She found herself once again firmly planted against his warm body. He wrapped his arms around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't be able to escape easily.
Removing any non-violent ways to escape made Kate more comfortable with staying there, her rationalization being that it wasn't her choice. But she couldn't rationalize the way she molded herself to him.
"I promise," he uttered again, repeating it each time she protested.
She pulled herself closer to him, as close as she could get and it still felt too far. She didn't want to hear his promises; there was no way he could really know, and she was sick of false hope.
"Kate, listen to me," he pleaded in a firm voice, gently cradling her to his chest. "I don't remember much, but I know what I feel. Maybe I'll never remember, but don't give up on me, because I know without a doubt that I love you."
The dam broke further, her tears soaking running down the skin of his neck while his fell into her hair. "Castle," she murmured breathlessly, torn between her will to run and the god-awful craving to hear it again.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear, and though he didn't remember why, he knew she was worth the battle to figure it out.
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I'm a little nervous about this one. There are a lot of emotions flying everwhere. Since this is the last chapter, it's your last chance to review. Aren't I subtle? Thank you for sticking with this story until the end.
Thanks to Res for helpful medical information, and to Andy, Jade and Eline for their help looking over this and convincing me to post.
a/n 2: I feel the need to defend myself after some of the reviews. Yes, this is a very open ending. No, he hasn't recovered all that much. No, you aren't sure what Kate decides. None of this was the point of the story. It was to see them get through an impossible time, to see how they change and move forward. I refuse to give this a fairytale ending. That would be unrealistic.
