The drape of his mouth over hers is quick and unexpected. She taunted him, forced the truth from him with her own, but she wasn't prepared for him to have the courage to actually follow through, to tend to her lips with the reverent press of his, the skim of his tongue to the seam of her mouth, breaching and dragging a mewl from her mouth.
Castle's fingers slide into her hair, the cradle of his palm at her nape, and she finds hers rising to curl in the soft fabric of his robe, tugging to bring him closer, to brace her body against his. She wants to slip her hands past the barrier of thin material, seek warm skin beneath the flat of her palms skating up his sides and around to his back.
He breaks the kiss to touch his lips to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, traveling over heated flesh until he's branding the beat of her pulse, trailing down her throat to nip at her collarbone.
Her abs are quivering, doing everything in their power not to jolt and ripple, heighten her pain level and allow it to rupture past her lips, convince him to stop. She doesn't want him to stop.
"Don't let me hurt you," he murmurs, the vibrations of his voice shuddering through her.
Kate grips him tighter and shakes her head. "You won't."
She's been wearing his button downs to sleep in and he pauses with his nose at her neck to dislodge the first in the row with his fingers, undoing just one more to reveal the angry red knot of the scar between her breasts. She was just able to have the stitches removed the yesterday, just in time for Christmas, and she's grateful now, grateful his first time seeing it won't be with threads of black lacing through her flesh.
He dusts his lips to the spot and she raises one arm to band around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and burying her gasp in his cheek when he ventures back up the line of her sternum, the column of her throat.
"Richard," his mother's voice rings from just outside his office and Kate stiffens harshly. "Are you up?"
The band of his arm at her waist steadies her, stops her from jerking with surprise at the call of Martha's voice.
"Castle, my shirt," she breathes, hiding her face and the pink flush of her cheeks against his neck.
"It's okay," he soothes, sounding far too calm as he rubs a gentle hand down her spine, coaxing the sway of her body into his. "Just lean against me."
It's easy to find rest within the cove of his body, her galloping heart slowing to a less excruciating pace when it's sealed to the wall of his chest.
"Darling," his mother sing-songs from the office before she pokes her head inside. Kate is unable to see her face, to read Martha's expression, but she does hear the concern in her voice the moment she speaks. "Is Katherine alright?"
"She's fine, Mother," Castle promises, his voice an easy reassurance. "She just tried to get out of bed a little too quickly."
"Oh, poor dear," Martha sighs. "I'm just on my way out for the performance, do either of you need me to pick anything up for dinner before I return later?"
"I think we're good," Rick murmurs, his cheek lifting with a smile against Kate's temple. "But break a leg at the play."
"Thank you, kiddo. And do feel better, Katherine."
Kate gingerly draws her face from the cover of Castle's neck, enough to see his mother, offer her a grateful lift of her lips.
The older woman is shimmering in a red and gold dress, a brilliant emerald necklace around her throat, a matching ring glittering on her finger. It has Kate smiling a little wider.
"Thank you, Martha. You look amazing, by the way."
"Oh, this?" His mother twists, allowing the dress to catch the sunlight seeping through Castle's bedroom windows, the rays glinting off of it and sending dazzling ripples of light across the room. "Thank you, dear. I've been dying for a chance to wear it. But ah, I don't want to be late. See you both tonight!"
Martha waves her goodbyes with both hands and spins on her heel, sauntering out of his room and to the front door. Kate waits until it opens and closes with finality to take a deep breath.
"Well, Christmas Eve morning is definitely off to an interesting start," he mumbles, brushing his lips to her hair. "You okay?"
Kate lifts her head, tilting back far enough to stare up at him. It almost feels like she's cheating, skipping over two years of history while he's stuck wading through their past, sorting through the then and now of who they are, but even if she isn't able to recover her memory, she doesn't want to give this up.
She doesn't want to go back to a version of them that she can't remember, a version of them who left too much unsaid, who apparently only spoke in subtleties and half truths, who only kissed for the sake of a ruse.
Kate unhooks her fingers from their tenuous grip at his waist, snagging them in the lapel of his robe instead. His hand covers hers, warm and reaffirming, the uncertainty she could spot flaring to life in his eyes simmering down again.
"Yeah, Castle," she murmurs, the corner of her mouth twitching up for him. "I'm okay."
His mind is still reeling.
After his mother's departure, he helps Kate to the bathroom and prepares the shower, leaving her to bathe while he goes to check on Alexis. His daughter is already out in the kitchen, a bowl of cereal and some fruit in front of her at the bar, and a smug grin on her lips.
"What?" he asks, but Alexis only shakes her head.
"Oh, nothing. Gram just left, let me know you and Kate were having a moment."
Castle rolls his eyes, but his heart is still fluttering hard, his lips still tingling with the touch of hers.
"I was just helping her get out of bed."
"Dad," Alexis chuckles, swirling her spoon around in her cereal. "Gram told me she knows what a cover up looks like. She also said you and Kate were both blushing way too hard."
He huffs, that heated blush climbing right back onto his cheeks. "I was not blushing."
"Just like you aren't right now?"
"Eat your cereal, go get ready for your magical day of ice skating with your boyfriend and without your father to supervise."
Alexis's smile grows wider as she hops off the stool, circles around the bar to bound up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a quick hug. "I'll miss you guys today."
And oh how his hard leaps at the plural, the possibilities his daughter's approval provides to pop into his head. Maybe he really would get to take Kate ice skating in the park with his daughter next year.
"We'll miss you too. But you'll have fun, Pumpkin. Then you can come home and tell me all about it during Christmas dinner," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head and giving her a smile that's genuine as she pulls away.
After Kate was shot, his lips felt like they were destined to reside in a permanent frown, but in these last few days, he's remembered what it feels like to smile so hard his cheeks hurt again.
"Of course," Alexis answers as she draws away and strolls back for her breakfast. "Hey, will you ask Kate something for me?"
"Sure," he replies, curious, maybe a little nervous too.
"I know it's kinda tradition that we get all dressed up for our Christmas Eve dinner. I don't know if Kate has something, so I was thinking… Gram will be done with her play around the same time Ash and I should be done skating, we were talking about grabbing her a dress and then I could help her get ready," Alexis suggests, biting her lip in a habit he knows without doubt has been acquired from the woman currently in his shower. "Only if she wants to though. I don't want her to think there's any pressure-"
"I think that's a great idea, honey," Castle assures her, his heart swelling with it. "I'll run the last part by Kate, let you two surprise her with the dress, if you want, and then shoot you a text."
"Perfect," Alexis grins back at him, her face practically glowing. So much better than the tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes from last night. She catches him staring a little too long, a little too fondly, of course, and softens her smile for him. "Love you, Dad."
"Love you too, baby bird."
Alexis leaves to meet Ashley not long after and Castle returns to the bathroom to aid Kate in safely exiting the shower stall, a task they've performed a handful of times since the day she was released from the hospital, but one that never gets less awkward.
He holds out the same robe he wore earlier for her, slipping it over her shoulders while he pointedly keeps his head turned.
"Thanks, Castle," she murmurs, cinching the oversized robe at her waist and bracing her hands at his forearms as he guides her out of the shower stall.
"Anytime. Want me to comb your hair?"
She's usually too stubborn to let him do it, letting her hair go wild and untamed instead. But today she looks up at him, dripping hair falling around her cheeks and soaking the shoulders of his robe, the corner of her mouth quirking for him.
"I'd like that."
He grabs her usual attire of a button down and sweatpants, leaving the duffel bag that holds the rest of her belongings that resides in his closet inside the bathroom while she changes, and waiting for her to emerge to lead her back to his bed. She perches on the edge of the mattress while Castle arranges himself behind her with a comb.
He only manages to brush through a few tangles, smooth out the length of her hair, before she's swaying on the spot. Castle places the comb down on the bed, runs his fingers through a few times.
"Putting me to sleep," she mumbles, finding his hand at her side and instinctively fitting her fingers through the spaces of his.
"You didn't get much," he reasons, shifting to give her the opportunity use his chest as support for her back.
She takes it, her shoulder blades expanding against his sternum. "I don't want to sleep anymore."
"What if we go out to the couch and we can watch a movie while I get the last of my wrapping done?"
Kate hums, squeezing his hand. He doesn't know what he's going to do if she backs away from this increased level of contact initiated while she was in the hospital, if she stops indulging in the opportunity to touch him whenever she pleases.
"Sounds good."
They migrate to the living room and he sets up Kate on the couch with another protein smoothie and half of a sandwich that she's able to consume a few bites of. They turn on a Christmas movie about Santa and the magic of believing; he wraps two gifts, letting Kate place the bows on top, before she falls asleep curled up in the corner of the sofa.
It's how Alexis and his mother find them when they walk in hours later.
"Dad, you never texted me," Alexis whispers, holding up two large shopping bags. She places them on the floor and begins to dust the snow from her shoulders, shaking it from her hair.
"It's alright, we managed," his mother waves it off, strolling through the room. "My play concluded by lunchtime, Alexis parted ways with Ashley not too long after, and we've been shopping through the Christmas mayhem ever since."
"Well, we had some lunch and did a little Christmas wrapping and movie watching before Kate passed out," Castle defends, explains with a shrug. "She needs the sleep."
"Castle," Kate groans as if on cue. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"
"You don't even know what time it is," Rick huffs from the other end of the couch.
"I can tell it's been too long," she grumbles, shifting from underneath the blanket. "Help me up."
"Yes, help her up because it's time to doll that girl up," Martha announces, clapping her hands together. "I'll begin setting up your bathroom for primping, Richard."
"Wait, what?" Kate murmurs, her brow furrowing as Martha strides past the sofa.
"Well," Alexis chimes in, hanging her coat in the front closet and snagging the shopping bags from the floor. "Dad was supposed to inform you of our plans to help you dress up for Christmas Eve."
"Dress up?" Kate's fully awake now, staring at his daughter with that deer in headlights look he doesn't see quite as often now but knows well from the last two years. "For what?"
"Just for dinner," Castle shrugs, extricating her from the cocoon of blankets and easing her into a sitting position. "Nothing serious, just something we have fun doing every year."
"Grams is usually ready by morning," Alexis informs her. "As you probably saw today. But I still have to go get dressed and then I was going to help you. I thought - well, I was hoping we might have fun with it. I could curl your hair if you want while you do your makeup. Or - or if it hurts to lift your arms I could help with that too. Well, maybe not with the eyeliner, but everything else."
His daughter gives her a shy smile, a hopeful one, one they all know Kate's not going to say no to.
Kate glances warily to the shopping bags in Alexis's hands and sighs, giving in. "Fine."
Most of the cooking was done while Kate slept, some of it prepared a day or two in advance, so he does the last of it while the girls are holed up in his room, sets the table alone, and is only allowed into his own bedroom to change.
It's dark outside and his stomach is growling by the time Alexis and his mother finally emerge.
"We're all ready," Alexis announces, spinning around in her own plum colored party dress and walking in high heeled shoes that remind him how grown up she's really becoming. "Kate's a little stiff from sitting, so she may need to walk around a bit, but…" Alexis purses her lips with excitement, hooking her arm with her grandmother's to draw them both aside from his view. "It's time, Kate."
It takes a handful of seconds, but then she's walking into the living room in a red dress that has his heart stopping.
She isn't able to show off the outfit like his mother and daughter, with curls and high heels, wearing ballet flats instead of the stilettos he knows she'd prefer. Kate takes careful steps into view, the lace of the dress hugging her curves and drifting down to her knees, her wrists, leaving her legs and shoulders exposed.
"Wow," he whispers, stumbling against a dining chair as he strides forward to meet her, prepared to take his customary position at his side. But he stops before he can reach her, standing in front of her to admire the loose curls of her hair, the light layer of makeup. "You're beautiful."
"Castle," she mumbles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He covers the last of the distance to place his hands on her waist, bracketing her hips in his palms, and releasing a sigh of gratitude when she sways into him. Her fingers curl in his dress shirt, her eyes alight as she looks up at him.
"Best Christmas gift ever," he whispers, drifting in to dust his lips to between her brows.
"Shut up," she huffs, tilting her chin to nudge her nose to his. "It's all thanks to Martha and Alexis."
Rick glances back over his shoulder, catching his mother and daughter watching with intrigue and pride, and maybe a little amusement too.
"Not all," he murmurs, turning back to admire her once more. "You're naturally breathtaking, Kate. Always have been."
"Rick." Her smile is lovely and small and brushing against his cheek. He drags his knuckles down the line of her spine, savors the warmth of her so close. She sighs, the heat of her breath a pleasant burn to his jaw. "Do you mind walking me around a bit after we eat?"
"Of course. I'm starving so I'll eat fast and you just let me know when you're ready," he murmurs, moving his palm to splay at the small of her back. "Now, time for Christmas dinner."
Castle's happy to assist her in shuffling around the loft after dinner, complaining about how he ate too much and needs to walk it off anyway. The later hours of the night are approaching as they circle back to the living room, Kate taking her usual seat on the couch as his mother and daughter join them to say goodnight.
"Have to be in bed before Santa comes," Alexis teases, hooking her arms around her father's neck and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Martha gives Kate's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you so much for allowing us to help you prepare for dinner, darling. You look stunning."
"Thank you," Kate smiles up at her, accepting Alexis's tentative embrace while Martha exchanges one with her son.
"I'm glad you're here," Alexis whispers, releasing Kate with a small quirk of her lips.
Kate ignores the subtle prick of emotion in her eyes and nods. "Me too."
When his mother and daughter are upstairs, Castle starts to dig under the tree, coming up with a Christmas present.
"Stop giving me things," Kate growls when he drops it in her lap.
"It's Christmas," he groans, plopping down beside her. "And again, this is inexpensive and personal, it's why I'm asking you to open it now."
She rolls her eyes. "Are you expecting this gift to earn you a makeout session too?"
"Beckett," he chokes, making her laugh. "Just open your Christmas present."
Kate snickers and lifts her hands to the wrapping paper, sighing as she begins to take it apart.
"You never like me to buy you things," he says as a preface, watching her open his gift with anxious eyes. She peels away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath, flipping the lid open to draw the item out from inside. "So when Alexis and I did our yearly pottery making day this year, I just..."
Kate holds the hand painted coffee cup up to the light of the tree, turning it in her hands to examine the simple purple mug, the yellow stars decorating the circumference of it.
"I -I know it's kind of dorky and please don't feel obligated to keep it, I just - well, coffee is kind of our thing and I figured you wouldn't mind a new mug."
"Coffee is our thing?" she echoes, cradling the cup in her palms, tracing her thumb over one of the stars. How did he know her favorite color is purple?
"Yeah, I bring you a cup every morning. Grande skim latte, two pumps of sugar free vanilla," he recites proudly and she lifts her gaze to him.
"You know my coffee order?"
"Of course I do," he chuckles. "I'm a writer and… and well, I want to know everything about you and bringing you a cup of coffee every morning always puts a smile on your face, even on the harder days."
"Possibility for joy," she murmurs, glancing back down to the cup, smiling softly. "Thank you. I love this."
"You do?" She sneaks another look at him just to catch that lopsided grin on his lips, the true excitement in his eyes. Yeah, even without the coffee, he's definitely her possibility for joy.
"I do," she sighs, chewing on her bottom lip. "Castle?"
"Yeah?"
"All I wanted for Christmas, all I want in general, is to remember you, but - but if I can't…"
He's quiet for a moment, but shifts closer to her on the sofa, concern radiating from his frame."If you can't?"
"Can't we just start over?" she whispers, mustering up the courage to meet his gaze. He's staring back at her with those sparkling blue eyes. "Because I don't want to give this up. I know I have walls and that I can be destructive, selfish, but I really don't want to give you up."
"Kate." He reaches forward to cup her cheek in his palm, already shaking his head in denial. "After all this, there's no way I'm giving you up."
She presses her cheek into his palm, turns her head to smear a quick kiss there.
"Like you said the other night," he mumbles, his thumb stroking along the bone of her cheek, the corner of her eye. "I could never give you up."
Kate curls in a little closer to him on the couch, lets his hand slip to the side of her throat. "What did you mean?" she asks suddenly, that brief conversation in the early hours of the morning still fresh on her mind. "When you said you couldn't solve me?"
His brow creases for a moment before the memory must strike him as well.
"Something I told you before, not too long ago," he murmurs, propping his elbow atop the back of the couch, resting his cheek against his knuckles. "What I thought when I first met you, that you were a mystery I was never going to solve."
"And now?"
"And now," he sighs, the weight of his palm warm and reassuring at her neck. "I'm still amazed by the depths of your strength, your heart, and your hotness." He throws in a wink and she rolls her eyes at him, but he isn't done. "I told you once, closer to the beginning, that you were extraordinary, but I had no idea back then."
The frustrating sensation of memories trying to form, breach the block in her brain, surge up again, pounding like a headache through her skull. Stronger than usual.
"You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she whispers, prepared to smirk up at him, but she jerks back suddenly. His hand falls away from her, sending a cold shiver down her spine, the swirl of images through her mind. It's blurry, barely intelligible, but it's him, a memory of Castle. Castle… closing a door, her heart in her throat and sinking to her stomach as he eases it shut. "A door? Why am I seeing a door?"
"A door? I… Kate, I don't know what you're talking about."
"You closed the door," she pressing, clinging to the memory as if it could leave her at any moment. "We were in this room, somewhere else and you told me - told me what you just said and then we got up, I went to my room, closed the door, and when I opened it again, yours was closing too and I was... I was crushed and relieved at the same time."
Clarity blooms through his eyes before remorse flushes his gaze and his mouth parts in what looks like shock. "You - you opened your door?"
"Yeah," she whispers, her heart dropping for different reasons entirely. That was a secret she just let slip.
She drops her gaze, her eyes falling on the mug in her lap.
A flash of memories like a movie play through her mind, memories of him, the feeling of hot coffee warming her hands and her soul sweeping through her senses, the flush of gratitude that filled her every time he placed a cup of it in her hands. Every morning like a good morning kiss. How he loved her.
"You brought me coffee every single morning," she breathes, cradling the cup closer. "You always made me feel better with coffee, even after it was so cold… why were we so cold?" A world of ice all around them, her body huddled against his, freezing to death.
"We nearly die frozen in each other's arms," she echoes his accusation in an argument he's already told her about, one that now reclaims its spot in her mind, the anger of it, the ache, flaring fleetingly through her chest, causing her scars to scathe with fiery agony. Castle swallows hard, but doesn't reply.
Thank you for being there.
Always.
The same thing she said to him after he punched the sniper, Hal Lockwood, in the face until the other man bled. The same thing he said to her.
Her eyes fall shut.
Thank you for having my back in there.
Always.
"Always," she rasps, her eyes flaring open, flashing up to him. He's watching her, beaming at her, but not saying a word. He's holding his breath through every moment, every memory coming back to her.
It's so swift, so fast and sharp and damn near painful that she has to clutch her chest, squeeze her eyes shut against the overwhelming rush of it all flooding back in like a tidal wave. Every moment from the second she walked into his book party to the day he jumped in front of a bullet to try and save her life, ended up bowed over her instead, begging her to stay and telling her he loved her.
He loves her.
"Kate," he says softly, a gentle hand coming to rest on her shoulder, climb her neck to twine through her hair. "Breathe, love, please take a breath for me. Is it your chest? Do I need to-"
"No, no," she chokes out, forcing herself to look up, to meet his worried gaze. To tell him what they've both been waiting for. "I just - I remember."
