She doesn't mean to pry, absolutely doesn't mean to eavesdrop openly.
She woke up to a growling stomach, the strong smell emanating from the kitchen rousing her with a harsh pang of hunger. She had gotten out of bed too fast and the room had spun around her, her legs too wobbly to support her weight and she'd collapsed back onto the mattress with a groan. She'd cursed under her breath at the blinding flare at the back of her head and for once - she'd swallowed the pill and downed the glass of water she had found on her bedside table.
She knows Castle had put it there, though ignores when exactly, but it could have only been him. She's still fairly mad at what had happened this morning, still has no idea how to manage being here, but the sweet intention had brought a small smile to her lips nonetheless.
She's about to take a first step down the stairs when she hears it. I like her, too. A lot.
Her legs freeze, the upper half of her body canting forward with the abrupt move, her blood turning to ice and while the words draw her eyebrows together, they're not the catalyst for the tide of emotions that overcomes her, hits her full force like waves crashing into a rock face with a roar. It's the naked anguish that strains the traits of his face like she's never seen it before, how dull and yet full his eyes are even from where she stands. It's the strangled sound that follows and the small, detached sigh he gives his daughter.
He looks pained.
She watches him and Alexis, and while she feels like she shouldn't be here, intruding on the intimate, heartwarming scene, she's rooted to the ground, her eyes drawn to the sweet picture of father and daughter. Yet, her stomach rolls as the weight of denial sits heavily on her shoulders. Remorse clogs her throat, the swell of emotion making her slap a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob from reaching them, still, it cracks chest open with the harsh realization that once again, she messed up - in more ways than one.
Their relationship, her job, herself.
Her stomach twists the moment she hears Castle promise his daughter he'll check on her, and she's running back up and locks herself in the bathroom before he can take another step. She releases a stuttering breath once her back hits the door, sacks against the hardwood, her eyes drifting closed. Her heart is lurching too hard inside the wrecked shack of her chest, her pulse hammering so hard that she feels it beat at her temples, in her belly - everywhere - and she's going to be sick. He'll be here in a minute, asking too much and not enough all at once, and only she can determine where this is going now. She braces herself on the slick edge of the sink, her hands clenching hard even as her head drops between her stiff arms, blowing a slow puff of air in a tentative attempt to find her bearings before she can blow it all off - again.
She needs to get a hold of herself, needs to stop letting the voices inside her head get to her - drive her around like she's just an empty vessel. She's shaking with the overwhelming sense of failure; everything keeps falling apart around her, and it wasn't supposed to go this way. Back at the academy, she'd pictured what it would be like to finally be a cop and she'd been so -so- wrong. She'd thought it would make it easier, thought it would be the key to counter her twisted grief. But it's worse, the need to get there is consuming, fills her mind day and night until she can't think straight. She doesn't have room for him, her whole energy is devoted to climbing the ladder as fast as possible, but when she's with him - that drive clashes with something stronger that she hasn't wanted to admit is real, and it scares the shit out of her.
It's easier for her to drown in what she can control than to fight and face something she has no control of at all, but now she's sinking them when he's always been there to pull her up.
"Kate? You in there?"
Her breath hitches the moment his muffled voice cuts through the door, her chest heaving with each sharp breath that comes as a nail-biting wave of panic floods her body.
"Ah- Kate. Please, what's going on?"
She almost laughs at the inquiry, would have if it weren't for the distress in his voice. Instead, she lifts her head up and stares at her reflection, shivers when she almost doesn't recognize herself.
"You're-" The short utterance falls apart or never makes it up to her. Either way, she doesn't know what to say to him, not when the eyes staring back at her are dark and vacant, lack whatever answers he's looking for.
She blinks out of her daze, staring at the blue-ish crescents branded under her eyes, how hollow her cheekbones are, like bottomless pits.
"Where's-" His voice cracks, so does her heart - still, she waits for it. "Where's the woman I met under the roof of my bookstore?" The desperate query makes her choke around the thick lump in her throat, the room suddenly too small, the air too dry. "The woman who fought with me over a book and didn't bat an eyelid when finding out who I really was. Where's the woman I lo-" the word never comes, hangs over her head like a sword of Damocles - unspoken but undeniable. "I don't know who you are, lately..."
The bitter laugh escapes her in one burst, though her heart constricts at the defeat in his voice like a breathless sigh. "Funny, neither do I," she snarls, pushing herself off the sink and facing the door as if expecting to see him.
"Kate, please, open the door." The plead drives her forward and when she pulls the door open - he's there, standing a little unsteady, his hair disheveled, his eyes a little lost but quicky coming to life when he realizes they're face to face.
His eyes bounce all over her frame before settling on her face and while his lips part- he comes up empty. The pang of guilt jolts her forward like a vicious current snaking through her system, and she crashes into him, nearly topples them over before either of them can tell what's happening.
He catches her with a groan and clasps his arms around her, keeping her close. "I'm sorry," she mutters against him, breathes him in - He smells of fresh laundry...and cheese? "For...freaking out on you and running away."
She feels him shake his head, his chin dipping into her hair, the warm breath that escapes his lips rousing a fierce line of goosebumps along her neck. "No, Kate, I understand-"
Her arms clench around his waist with something stubborn that she feels rising from deep inside, the protest swelling inside her chest like a thick cloud about to burst. She doesn't want him to understand. "No!" she cries out, pushing herself off him just far enough to catch his startled eyes. "No, you don't and you can't," she explains as his own frown mirrors hers, his hands trailing to her shoulders, cupping the rounded bones. "And that's on me."
He blinks slowly, confusion like a thick fog veiling over his eyes. "I don't understand."
Surprisingly, her stomach doesn't convulse through a wave of nausea, nor is her chest so stuffed that she feels like tearing her shirt off. It feels right in a way she never experienced it before. What she thought would be a painful task feels like a much-needed deliverance.
Her lips form a small smile as she sighs and moves to the bed, sits on the edge and pats the mattress in invitation. He pivots and his eyes widen just a little, but he doesn't say anything - just walks over to her and sits quietly. Appreciative of his silence, she lets her hand wander, her fingers curling above the hand he has between them. His gaze on her is so deep and strong that she feels it holding her together, fueling her with just enough courage. "Few years ago, my mom, dad and I were supposed to meet at the restaurant," she recounts, her eyes on his face even as everything blurs around. "She was running late, but we just figured she had lost track of time again. My mom constantly had herself nose-deep in a case, she and my dad used to fight a lot because of that." He smiles sadly at the chocked laugh that tumbles past her mouth, her lips pressed as her eyes roams over his face. He's listening, but not only - he's there with her. "But she wasn't," she croaks, her eyebrows drawn together at the pain flaring under her skull, the grief anew, like a wide gaping hole spreading from the middle of her chest. "We went back home and the police were already there."
She'll never forget, the visceral pain.
"Kate."
Just like his voice is right now, desperate and powerless. He turns his hand, his palm fully encompassing her own; the gesture gives her just the strength she needs.
"She was stabbed, Castle. She was left to die alone in some alley and- god, Castle, ever since that day, all I've wanted to do is find the bastard who did this." Her words are mere whispers by now, vanishing in the stillness of the room, yet she sees their impact on his face. She cannot quite decipher the look on his face as if he's torn himself, his body is leaning toward her just slightly, his eyes clearing.
"The Police Academy."
She nods, smiling as she sees the pieces coming together before his eyes. "Yeah. My dad drowned in the bottle and I...I hid in your novels - and academy training."
"You did?" The silly wonder that rocks him closer and has his eyebrow shoot up to his hairline propels a short laugh out of her, the awe shining in his eyes making her lips quirk up and her heart flip.
She hums. "They were a reminder that it wasn't too late to find justice for her death, still are. Each time I thought I wasn't strong enough, they- you - helped me keep sight of why I was doing it," she reveals, watching as his chest heaves up with a sharp intake of breath. Awe and wonder are long gone and although she can't name what comes across his face, he's reaching for her and pulling her back into his arms - halfway on his lap - before she can have a chance at finding out.
It doesn't take her long to relax in his warm embrace, his smell soothing her nerves with an ease that ceased to surprise her. His arms are holding her against him firmly, but mindful of her injury, his mouth pressed against the side of her face and - he's clearly moved.
"I'm so sorry I ruined everything," she mumbles in his neck, his swelling chest and tense arms an omen of his dawning disapproval.
"You didn't ruin anything, Kate," he grunts against her skin, his fingers digging into her back.
"I hurt you."
"It happens."
She huffs at the dismissive statement and moves off his thighs to stand before him -too ansty to remain still when everything within her is screaming.
"I was so angry, Castle. I broke into the archive room, that night. I was looking for my mom's file, but I got caught before I could get my hands on it," she explains, residual anger making her voice crack just slightly - her hands shake enough for him to notice.
"Kate-"
She shakes her head, brushing-off his attempt to reassure her before it even comes. "It wasn't just someone. It was the Captain of Homicide. I screwed up so bad, Castle," she moans, turning away from him in self-inflicted shame, both trembling hands flying up to cover her face.
She doesn't hear him stand and before she knows it, he's in front of her and reaching for her hands.
"Hey, you don't know that," he scolds, curling his fingers around her own and dragging them off her face.
She looks up at him, blinking lazily as she suddenly notices how much taller he is. Her heart in her throat, the look on his face makes her fingers grip his. He's fierce, protective of her - against herself - his eyes burrowing into her so deep that she just gives in, shows that vulnerability that always lurks.
"And then today- Rick. What if- What if I can't do this? They all look at me like I don't belong, and I've been trying so hard-" Her eyes shy away from his face, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper with each word as the bitter insecurity builds up and winds her guts painfully.
He tugs hard on their intertwined fingers, jolts her forward just enough that her eyes startle up back on his. "Hey, stop," he growls, dropping his forehead to rest on hers so that she can't escape him - his hard, magnetic gaze. "Don't let anyone make you think you're not fit for this. Kate, you're- you're so young, you've got to give yourself some slack."
The sincerity that bleeds from his lips stains her mouth and burns her throat. "Cas-"
"No, listen to me." The hairs at her nape rise at the devotion that burns in his eyes like a self-consuming star, her skin warming up when he lets go of one of her hands to cup her jaw, swipes his fingers across her cheek. "You can do this, you could do anything you'd set your mind to. You've got such a beautiful heart, Kate. But not only, I look at you and I can see the hard edges of your strength in your eyes, the fearless determination in every single move you make. They're lucky to have you and one day, you're gonna make one hell of a detective."
She'd probably choke on the sizzling ball of emotion that takes up all the room within her chest if only the air could reach her lungs. Instead- she's stuck, her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows drawn together as his own rise in a 'got it?' kind of way. The words thank you are somewhere trapped under her tongue, so she nods dumbly.
He smiles softly down at her in answer, brushes her nose with his before taking a step back. She wants to tell him not to go, but the hand that stays in place at her jaw, his fingers twirling a fine strand of her hair, shuts her up.
"And Kate, I would never reject you. That's not what I-"
Oh, god. "I know," she jumps in, tugging on his hand. "I know, Rick," she repeats more calmly, allows the sincerity to color her words.
He nods, his chest lifting up under a deep intake of breath. "I want to date you, do it properly, Kate Beckett."
The air returns to her lungs as quickly as the startled laugh burst out, her eyes dancing between his eyes. He's smirking, just a little shy but confident, and that's enough for her heart to pound with a new fervor.
Her thumb absentmindedly draws circles over the paper-thin skin of his hand as she cocks her head at him with a smile she can't quite contain. "Always the romantic," she laughs, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
He shrugs, returning the soft caress on the back of her hand. "I'm serious, I want to do this right. I want this to work," he presses with a conviction that makes her hold her breath for a second. Just when she gets it back, he steps back into her - slowly, steadily.
"I do, too," she mumbles, heat creeping up her neck as his hand cradling her jaw skids back to palm the back of her head so carefully and feather-light that she barely feels it. But since it's him, the delicate touch is enough for her throat to dry - so is his darkening eyes.
"Good," he whispers over her lips, the wash of hair almost tearing from her mouth what would have been a very pathetic moan. He's so close, the draw is too strong - her lips closing the remaining gap by their own accord.
Their lips meet again, slow, exploring and nothing like the last time. She winds an arm around his neck, the move pushing her body deeper into him and the chase only grows in intensity. He strokes his tongue just right, sucks her lip inside his mouth as though he can't get enough, his hands gripping her hair and this time, the moan escapes her before she can do anything about it - both in pain and pleasure.
The moan is loud enough that it breaks the kiss, mouths breathing deep puffs of air over each other's lips. "Good," she parrots, a little breathless.
"So, Dinner?" he asks, looking back at her with a quirked eyebrow.
Just like that, she's got no doubt that they will be okay.
Thoughts?
Once again, thank you for your support, this one really was a hard one to squeeze out. No delay this time like I thought there would be, but def one before next chapter.
Speaking of- Concerning the Guest who reviewed me about my shitty pace: Yes, seven days is a lot - I get it - but please keep in mind that this story should have ended five chapters ago, and therefore I'm writing it as we go and life happens ; I've got very little time to write. As for the lack of action, I did warn you at the very beginning that this would be pretty much just romance and rather plotless. Sorry it disappointed you, but it was always planned this way. You've got great authors out there who writes action - I'm not one of them!
'Til next time x.