Chapter Ten
Kate
A/N: Picks up from Kate's POV at the end of chapter seven.
She's combing through financial records when her phone rings, and her heart drops at the sight of the name that lights up the screen.
Alexis doesn't call during the day, not unless something's wrong.
She fumbles for the device with sweaty palms, leaving her desk for the increased privacy of the break room and trying to deduce the reason for the call.
They've all been adjusting.
Alexis and Castle have been learning how to navigate this new version of their father-daughter relationship while she's been moving into her new apartment, but she thought that things were going well.
Castle has been improving, and he and Alexis have been finding their way after their initial difficulties. At least, that's what she last heard, and she answers the phone afraid to learn that something has changed.
"Alexis?"
Her greeting is ignored, and Alexis chokes out words she never imagined could have negative implications.
"He's remembering everything, Kate."
She doesn't understand. She was under the impression that correcting his memory would be a good thing, but Alexis' tone suggests otherwise.
"He's been… off, these last few days. He hasn't been sleeping well; he's been skittish and moody… I kept telling myself I was overreacting, because I didn't want to admit that he might be getting worse, but I asked him about it this morning and all he said was that he remembers everything."
The absence of Alexis' usual positivity is a crippling blow, and Kate blinks away the tears that form in the corner of her eyes.
"He was so scared, Kate. All I did was ask him how he's been sleeping…" she trails off. "I've never seen him so terrified."
The broken bones that healed properly, the implication that Lydia took care of him… All the facts that never quite made sense are now reminders that he created his delusions for a reason.
"He won't talk to me about it."
She hears the helplessness in Alexis' voice and knows that all she needs is reassurance that she's doing the right thing in letting him work through this on his own. After confirming that he's still seeing his therapist, that he has someone to talk to, she assures Alexis that she's doing all she can.
The repeated reminder of the trauma he suffered makes her lungs tighten, and she tries to breathe through the knowledge that his memories have him so unspeakably terrified.
She just started believing Dr Burke's assurance that no one is at fault for what happened. Now her brain won't stop producing possibilities of all that Castle might have endured, and the flicker of guilt reignites because she is the reason he spent eight years in that prison.
She's the one who gave up on him.
It's a reflex, calling Dr Burke's office when her stomach is churning and she can't think straight.
She isn't able to see him until the end of the day, and by then she can almost articulate the reason for the turmoil.
She starts at the beginning, explaining every doubt that Alexis' call incited, the fact that all the work she's done in this room is starting to feel like a lie, because surely in giving up she traded her own sanity for Castle's.
Dr Burke is patient, his face impassive as he waits for her to finish. It's only then that he speaks, requesting that she state exactly what happened the day she stopped looking for Castle.
His words are familiar – too familiar – and the realisation that this isn't the first time they've had this conversation lands like a punch to the gut.
She relays every detail of that day, from the absolute fear in Alexis' eyes to the way she felt the mark on her throat tightening inexplicably with every breath, and she loses track of time as she repaints the memory.
When she's finished she can see it clearly, and Dr Burke doesn't have to tell her that it was never one or the other – she knows. If she hadn't let the case go, she probably wouldn't be here, and Castle still would have endured what he did.
She had no leads. Nothing. She wouldn't have found him any sooner.
She leaves more at peace with the notion than she's ever been, inhaling deeply as she remembers that he's here now.
They both are.
She settles into her new apartment slowly, and starts to remember how to be on her own.
Not that she's lonely.
Part of her yearns for any kind of relationship with Castle, but she knows that she can survive without it, that the other pieces of her life are enough.
Lanie isn't going anywhere, something she makes blatantly clear at every given opportunity, and the boys are supportive in their own way. Ryan makes a habit of inviting her to join Jenny and the kids for dinner, and Espo takes to accompanying her at the gym, inquiring casually about how she's doing, and pretending he's not looking out for her.
She spends a couple of nights a week with her father, speaks to Alexis regularly, and remembers that she can be perfectly content, even if her heart belongs to someone that can't give his in return.
Weeks pass with the ease of routine, and Alexis keeps her updated on Castle amongst the usual stories of Sammy and Elliot.
He's still struggling with nightmares he won't discuss – much to Alexis' frustration – but they both know it takes time.
He no longer needs the wheelchair, and she tells Alexis that the rest will come.
She isn't used to being the hopeful one, but it's easier than she expects, and as the assurances fall past her lips, she almost believes them.
When Alexis insisted upon giving her Castle's number "just in case", she saved it and refused to give it any further thought, afraid to nurture hope that had no basis in reality. Alexis' recent concerns gave her no reason to think that he'd contact her, and when her phone flashes with his name, her complete lack of anticipation has her heart thumping in her chest uncontrollably.
She's utterly unprepared to hear his voice.
He sounds so much like Castle, like the man she knew and not the one in the hospital bed that couldn't hold her gaze, that she can barely get words out.
He's similarly stunned, and it puts her at ease as he steers the conversation towards Alexis.
She follows his lead, replying instinctively, too distracted by him – his voice, that he called in the first place – to overthink her responses.
She tries to assuage the guilt in his words as he thanks her for looking out for Alexis, but he doesn't let her linger, focusing on what was clearly his reason for calling.
"I don't want to come between you and Alexis."
There's so much she wants to tell him, so much he needs to know, and while she can't bring herself to break this fragile olive branch by raising topics he is trying to avoid, when the conversation comes to an end she needs to know that this won't be the only time they speak.
She doesn't realise how doubtful she is that he'll agree until he repeats her words.
"Talk soon."
The corner of her heart that dares to hope jolts to life with unprecedented ferocity, and hope spreads like wildfire through her veins.
She allows herself a few moments of bliss, revelling in the fact that they conversed, before she calls Alexis and asks the question she hasn't wanted to consider.
"Why was he so adamant that he didn't want to change anything between us?"
Alexis sighs, filling in blanks Kate didn't know she was missing.
"We haven't talked about you – since we got home."
Alexis seems ashamed to admit it, explaining that she wasn't sure Castle could handle it after the way he reacted to her in the hospital, and that she didn't want to risk it.
When she told Alexis that she wanted to be the one to inform Castle of her breakup with Tim, Alexis suggested waiting until he was in a better place to hear from her. She agreed because she wanted a chance to properly explain it to him, and she trusted Alexis' assessment.
She didn't realise that he couldn't stand even the mention of her name, and in knowing that Alexis felt the need to conceal it from her, she sees Castle's concerns from a new perspective.
"You don't have to hide things from me," she says. "I can handle it."
She can.
She's strong enough now to hear the truth, even if she wasn't before, and she won't let Alexis cause herself extra stress in an attempt to protect her.
"I know, I just –"
The subsequent realisation is swift, and she interrupts Alexis as she gives it a voice.
"You don't have to hide things from him either, not for me."
It takes her longer than she intends to prepare for the conversation.
Her current relationship with Castle consists of a single phone call about Alexis and an enormous amount of optimism on her part, and she doesn't want to ruin it.
Her paranoia that Alexis was his only reason for reaching out doesn't help either, but ultimately she remembers his confirmation that they'll talk soon and reminds herself that she wants to be the one to tell him about the disintegration of her relationship with Tim.
She has the entire conversation planned. Every sentence, every word she'll use to explain that she's no longer engaged, that she and Tim broke it off because she loves him, but that it isn't his fault and she doesn't expect anything from him.
Then he answers the phone.
At the sound of his voice, the intricacies of all that she's trying to express elude her, and she blurts out what she remembers, hoping to appear calmer than she feels.
She spent hours agonising over every possible response he could have to the words "I couldn't marry him", but she's still unprepared for the mix of confusion and shock in his tone when he asks "why?"
She takes the time to collect herself, to ignore the burning behind her eyes at his assumption that the place he held in her heart disappeared when he did, and to explain clearly that she loves him, that she always will, even if they have nothing more than this tentative promise of a friendship.
It's something she's spent hours in therapy coming to terms with, and she'd be proud of the way she says it without breaking if she weren't so focused on his reaction, the memory of him pleading "go away, please go away" a taunting whisper in her ears.
When he doesn't respond, she's quick to assure him that it's okay. She needed him to know the truth, needed to clear the air for Alexis as well as herself, but if he's about to dispute her statement that they have something, she doesn't want to know.
Hope might be treacherous, but it's all she has, and she can't lose it.
She expects him to let the exchange reach its natural end, but instead he revives it with the one topic that has yet to cause tension between them.
"Would you tell me about Alexis? About her life?"
He sounds so regretful that she finds herself desperate to tell him everything he wants to know.
She lets him dictate the topic, and while she's surprised by his choice of Alexis' in-laws, she tries not to show it. Instead, she throws herself into the conversation, the familiarity of talking to him washing over her and pushing them through any awkward lulls.
The moment he mentions the monthly family dinner, she knows she's missing something, but she's distracted by the insinuation that she took his place in their family because it hurts. It took years for her to feel comfortable being such a significant part of Alexis' life without him by her side, and old insecurities flare as she attempts to explain that she wasn't trying to replace him.
"…I should have been there."
Her own thoughts are quickly drowned out by the guilt in his words, guilt that she won't let fester, because there is no interpretation of the last eight years in which he is at fault for his own captivity.
That he thinks she could blame him is a knife to her already fractured heart, and she foregoes the assertive approach, instead falling back on quiet honesty.
She tells him that she blames Lydia, that while she spent a long time blaming herself, she now understands that she isn't at fault for surviving, and neither is he.
In the silence that falls, any part of her that still doubted her lack of culpability slips away, and when she hears his soft acceptance in a single word, the relief is overwhelming.
"Okay."
In the weeks that follow, she notices the change in Alexis, even over the phone.
Alexis is more relaxed, and together they form a new normal, one where she exchanges greetings with Castle through Alexis when he's in the room, just as she does Elliot.
She hasn't spoken to Castle since she told him she and Tim ended their engagement – she hasn't wanted to pressure him to respond, but there's an openness present between them that wasn't there before, and it's enough for now.
She's speechless when she calls Alexis and Castle answers.
"Hey, Kate, Alexis is upstairs, she'll be down in a minute."
He sounds so casual that it takes her a moment to comprehend his words before she even thinks to reply.
"How are you doing?" She manages, trying to appear half as relaxed as him and failing miserably.
"I'm…" he sighs. "I'm running," he says, the contrasting honesty in his tone exposing his previous upbeat greeting as a facade.
She blinks, tries to reconcile the memory of the man who couldn't stand on his own with someone who claims to be running, and attempts to understand exactly what he means.
"Well, I'm trying to," he continues, laughing dryly. "I guess some days are better than others."
"The bad days will get further apart," she says softly, unthinking.
It's so easy with him, even with so much between them. Every time they speak he sounds more like the man she knew, and everything else fades into the background.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she confirms. "You know you can call me, if you want to talk," she says, but it comes across as more of a question than a reminder.
"Yeah, you too," he murmurs. "Alexis is here. Talk soon." He ends the conversation abruptly, and she's not even sure he's still on the line when she responds, echoing the hopeful sentiment that concluded their first phone call.
"Talk soon."
She shouldn't be so afraid.
She was less nervous when she called him last time, but then she had an actual reason to contact him, something other than an insatiable need to hear his voice, to see how he's doing.
While Alexis' concern over his state of mind has waned over the last couple of weeks, it is ever-present, and she can no longer control her need to check in, to hear from him directly.
She holds her breath as she waits for him to answer, and when he does she wonders briefly if she's called the wrong number.
He sounds … happy. Giddy, even, and she's too stunned to utter more than his name.
"Castle?"
"Kate." She can almost see the broad grin that she's sure paints his face, if his intonation is any indication.
"I want to tell you something," he starts, clearly realising that his mood requires an explanation.
"This is going to sound stupid," he says, but he's so excited, so much like the man she used to know, whose enthusiasm for the littlest things would always make her smile, and she feels her own heart rate pick up in response.
"No," she assures him. "I'm sure it's not stupid."
He clears his throat, dispensing with the majority of the excitement before speaking.
"I was held captive. For eight years, Lydia held me captive."
He says it with such acceptance that it makes her feel light-headed, and she falls back onto the couch, drawing her knees up to her chin.
"Kate?"
She remembers seeing him in that hospital, so withdrawn and broken and frustrated, remembers him pushing her away repeatedly, Alexis' words a painful soundtrack to the memory.
He thinks it was you.
She can't believe that he's now stating it so openly, that he's so at ease with the fact.
"Rick."
Her voice sounds weak, the tears in her eyes clogging her throat, and she wishes she could muster some kind of reassurance, something – anything – to say, but she can't.
"It's not much," he adds, and she shakes her head vehemently even though he can't see it.
"It's everything," she disagrees.
When he left New York without so much as a goodbye, she never imagined they'd get this far.
"I'm so proud of you," she presses out.
"Thank you," he returns, the weight of the exchange not lost on him either.
"Anyway, you called me?" He inquires, and she's so lost in the magnitude of what just occurred that she answers without thinking.
"I just wanted to hear your voice."
The silence returns, and she wants to gloss over it, wants to fill the void with something about Alexis, because this is too much too soon, clearly, but now words refuse to leave her mouth.
"I'm glad you called," he says, and she expels a nervous breath. "You were right."
She hears his hesitance and waits for him to continue, even as her curiosity piques.
"The bad days are getting further apart."
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