Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the characters used in this story.
A/N: This chapter follows the main characters out to the Hamptons. There's not much plot development here, just two people trying to work things out. It you're looking for gregarious attorneys, sketchy exes, or remarkably insecure secure condo buildings, maybe next chapter. More below.
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"Can we go to the beach house?" Alexis asks, with Castle nodding before she finishes. "That's a good idea – get out of our heads after a rough day," he agrees. "What do you say, Beckett? Would you like to join us?"
Beckett slowly opens the door and creeps inside. The sun hasn't yet managed to wake, leaving only stars and a waning moon to provide any illumination. She can just barely make out the contours of the room and the outline of the bed at its center.
Moving stealthily, Beckett tiptoes to the far side of the room before perching on the edge of the mattress. Her target is now inches away from her. He's sleeping toward the right side rather than the middle of this monstrosity of a bed. The decadent comforter is pulled mid-way up his bare chest, protecting him from the whorls of air formed by the lazy movements of the ceiling fan. He looks so peaceful and serene.
But it's not enough to derail her plan.
She needs to wake him gently, quietly. Well, maybe that's an excuse, she admits, but one she's willing to embrace. Twisting in place, she reaches over and starts smoothing the palm of her hand in small circles on his chest. He's a furnace, emitting a seductive warmth that seems designed to pull her under the comforter. But she resists, content to continue the motions of her hand, though the circles she draws get broader, sloppier, and a little more vigorous.
"Mmmmm, Beckett," he mumbles as he tightens his arms and a small smile graces his lips. Then, suddenly, his eyes snap open. "Beckett?" he mutters in disbelief.
"Shhhhh," she whispers, aglow with satisfaction. It's nice to know that she haunts his dreams, since he's flitted into hers for … a long time. Although, it is interesting that he said "Beckett" rather than "Kate." Maybe the dream was set at the precinct?
Locking eyes with him, she continues rubbing circular patterns on his chest for a few moments as he comes fully awake. "You promised me a morning walk on the beach, Castle," she whispers. "Rise and shine."
"Beckett," Castle whispers back, in a gravelly early-morning voice that she definitely wants to hear again in different circumstances, "you realize it'll still be morning for another six or seven hours, right?"
"I've dreamed," Beckett replies softly with her hand coming to a standstill over his heart, "of coming here and walking on the beach with you – probably hundreds of times, Castle. Just the two of us, together, enjoying the peaceful, romantic solitude of the sand and the waves. I just can't wait any longer," she finishes, drawing out the last four words.
Lifting her hand from his chest, Castle doesn't break eye contact as he brings it to his mouth and place a gentle kiss on her palm. "Then let's go."
Beckett stands to allow him to slide out of bed, denying her curiosity by turning from him slightly to allow a modicum of privacy as he makes his way to the en suite bathroom in only his low-slung pajama bottoms. Speaking of dreams, there's another tub in there that's been the focus of some of her other fantasies. Those thoughts distract her until Castle emerges a minute later, probably setting records for his morning routine. She follows as he pads his way to the walk-in closet.
She catches his wrist as he reaches for the light switch. "We need to be stealthy – I don't want to wake Alexis or my dad," she whispers into his ear. "We'll see them for breakfast, but I want to spend time with you, first," she finishes with a kiss to his cheek.
Instead of the light, Castle uses the glow of his cellphone to find some clothes. In another minute they're sneaking into the hallway, trying desperately to be quiet. They'd be more sneaky if they weren't holding hands, but neither can bring themselves to break their connection.
"Shhhhh!" Beckett whispers after a flirty hip-check made Castle bounce lightly off the banister for the stairs.
Pulling her into a hug, Castle whispers into her ear. "This is so cool, Beckett. First time I've ever had to sneak past a dad to get out of the house to spend time with a girl."
With a nip to his ear and a light elbow to his side, they resume their escape.
When they finally make it to the ground floor, Castle stops them next to a closet. "It'll be cold out there," he whispers as he collects some insulated windbreakers and a stuffed duffle bag before escorting her to a sliding glass door.
Standing outside in the cool morning air, Beckett's immediately glad that Castle thought of the jackets. Donning them quickly, they are about to set off before Beckett catches Castle's elbow as he slings on the bag.
"Do me a favor?" she whispers into his ear. After his nod, she explains her request. "It was too dark to see your house when we arrived last night, and I'd kind of like to see it from the outside all at once. If I close my eyes, will you lead me down to the beach?"
"Beckett, you've known me for a long time," Castle whispers back. "And in all that time, I'd do just about anything for you. Well, it turns out that if you ask by whispering in my ear, I'll do absolutely anything for you."
"That's good to know," she replies with another kiss to his cheek. Then, with a beaming smile, Beckett steps back, closes her eyes, and extends her hand. Castle knows her well, knows that this is about more than just seeing his house. She doesn't easily relinquish control, so she's hoping that this simple, silly request can set the tone for their weekend. She's also hoping that their talk of romance will curb any devilish impulses that might otherwise lead Castle to walk her into his pool.
She's surprised, though she shouldn't be, that their walk isn't marred by the halting steps or murmured, bumbled directions that have marked the "trust walks" she's endured in college orientation and academy training exercises. They move gracefully together; Castle might as well have danced them to the sand.
After walking along the beach for a few yards, Castle stops with a gentle tug. Moving in front of her, he orients Beckett directly away from the house with a hand on each shoulder. "You won't ruin any surprises if you look now," he whispers, even though they're well out of earshot from the house.
Opening her eyes, she sees him in front of her with only sand and water as the backdrop. "Surprise," she says quietly before closing the distance between them.
This time, there is no marriage looming over them, no turned cheek. There is no guard, no shadow of captured colleagues or temporary distractions. It's just the two of them, free of all encumbrances, embracing each other at the dawn of a new day. It is glorious.
The need for air and reduced heartrates finally wins out as they separate, each wearing endearingly silly smiles. They lock eyes while they breath, sharing a moment easily as intense and intimate as their kiss.
"I love you," Castle says again, proudly, recalling their night at Vinnie's.
"I'm in therapy," Beckett replies, eyes widening in shock as she realizes what she said. Closing them slowly in mortification, her eyes blink open quickly at Castle's guffaw.
"I've imagined this thousands of times, daydreamed about the possibilities, the scenarios," Castle says mirthfully. "But, I can honestly say that I never imagined us starting with a statement like that!"
"Castle…," Becket moans, trying to regain control of this conversation.
"I mean, 'I'm in therapy'? Not a great confidence booster after a heartfelt declaration and a kiss I've been dreaming about since I met you, Beckett," Castle chortles.
"Shut up," Beckett says while failing to keep a straight face. "Your confidence will survive just fine. I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous about this. There are things that I want to tell you, things that we should talk about. I just got a little ahead of myself."
"Well, just two days ago I promised that I wouldn't tease you about anything I learned or make you uncomfortable around your dad," Castle says while retaining his good humor. "I suppose we can extend that deal for a bit."
"How magnanimous of you," Beckett says with rolled eyes and an indulgent smile.
"I'm good like that. Come on, let's walk," he says after giving her a quick kiss and grabbing her hand.
Wandering down to the shore, they walk together in silence as the sky begins to brighten. "So," Beckett says when she breaks the silence. "I know this will come as a surprise, but I'm seeing a therapist."
"I suspected so," Castle says seriously, running with Beckett's facetious lead-in. "Nothing escapes my finely trained observational skills. It's why Gates is so desperate to keep me at the 12th."
"You're right, I clearly shattered your confidence," Beckett retorts as she bumps his shoulder. Letting the humor take flight, she dives in. "Before I tell you about it, I want to apologize. Or, well, maybe not apologize, but explain." She's getting flustered already and they've only just gotten started. She's starting to tighten up – there's so much riding on this conversation that she needs to make sure she gets it right.
"Hey, Beckett," Castle says gently to catch her attention. "It's just me. You don't have to worry about wording things perfectly. Just talk, and trust that we'll get to where we were always meant to be."
It's almost maddening how simple Castle can make things, she thinks, despite his obvious talent for confusing her.
"I always pictured telling you about my therapy," Beckett dives in. "I'd build it up in my head, think about the different ways we could talk about it, how it would clear the way for something between us." At this, Castle gives her hand a squeeze but remains quiet. "In every scenario, you were the first person I'd tell. But, after hearing what Alexis had to say about me the other night, I wanted to talk to her. We had a good talk in the precinct yesterday, and my therapy came up during our conversation. I'm not sorry that I talked to her about it, but I am sorry that you weren't the first to hear the details."
"Oh, Beckett," Castle replies with a smile and a hint of exasperation, "don't ever apologize for treating my daughter with honesty and respect. Besides, I saw how you two interacted after that talk. If telling her about your therapy helped you find some common ground, I couldn't be happier."
"She's a wonderful young woman, Castle. And a fierce defender," Beckett says with an impressed huff.
"I love every aspect of my daughter, including the recessive acting and drama genes," Castle laughs. "But I don't need a defender."
"Yes, you do," Beckett says seriously. "Not to take sides here, but Alexis was right the other night – for someone who's been so good to the people he cares about, your feelings get stepped on a lot. Often by high-heeled boots," she confesses.
"I'm tougher than I look, Beckett," Castle says, echoing his response to Alexis. "But I'll tell you this: I won't mind if we're turning to a new, more tender chapter of our story."
"Wimp," Beckett replies while sliding her hand up his arm to grasp his bicep before leaning her head on his shoulder for a few steps.
After a few more strides on the sand, Castle picks up the conversation, surprisingly let her challenge drop. "Hey, Kate, we're being honest with each other as we get started here, right?"
"We're trying, Rick," she replies, acknowledging the more intimate use of her given name and following his lead. "It's a bit of a change, especially for me, but it's time for us to be more … real … about the way we are together. That's something you want, isn't it?" she asks, still a little insecure about where she stands and worried that she's misread Castle.
"Absolutely," Castle confirms. "We're just in the neighborhood of a touchy subject that I should share. Alexis wasn't quite right the other night when she was talking about my threshold for abuse. Things with Gina didn't really end because of the way she treated me. They ended because of the way I treated her."
This isn't what she expected and talking about Gina while they're walking on the beach at the Hamptons is probably the worst timing she can imagine. Still, if they're going to move forward, they need to get over these ghosts from the past.
"What do you mean?" she prompts.
"I put Gina in an untenable position right from the start," Castle admits. "Back then … Mother wasn't around, I was trying to juggle being a dad and an author, and Alexis started having obvious troubles that a mom could have addressed. As a dad, I was clueless. Not … menstruation or hormones," he says with discomfort as he waves his free hand around as if warding off evil spirits, "just the … feminine insight, I guess. I had hoped that Gina could be a good role model for Alexis," Castle trails off.
"And she wasn't?" Beckett asks after a few steps.
"She never really had a chance," Castle confesses, "because I never trusted her enough to actually be a parent to Alexis. I invited Gina into the family, but as a picture, an example, not as a mom or a real parenting partner." He pauses for a moment, probably caught on that last word. "Gina's not dumb. She saw the writing on the wall – she knew she'd always come second to a girl she wasn't allowed to raise. So, she made an ultimatum. It's no mystery which option I picked."
"Castle, she knew you had Alexis when she married you," Beckett defends. "Hell, as your publisher, she probably knew about your home life even before you became involved. She couldn't, well, she shouldn't have been surprised about your relationship with Alexis."
"Have you ever seen that cartoon with the bride and groom standing in front of the priest, just about to say their vows?" Castle asks. Beckett assumes it's a rhetorical question because this really isn't enough to go on. "The groom is thinking 'ten more minutes and I get to have as much sex as I want.' The bride is thinking 'ten more minutes and I never have to have sex again.'"
It's a cheap joke, but it still gets a little chuff of laughter from Beckett.
"That's what happened with Gina and I, but our disagreement was about her role in Alexis' life – she assumed it would change and I married her to keep it the same," he says quietly.
"And round two?" Beckett asks, skating at breakneck pace onto thin ice.
"Let's table that for a second?" Castle says. "We'll come back to it, but it takes us away from why I pulled us onto this topic in the first place."
"Tell me?" Beckett asks, following Castle's lead.
"Remember our dinner at Vinnie's?" he asks.
"I promise you, Rick, that I'll never forget it," she replies with complete sincerity.
With a chagrined smile, Castle nods. "Then you remember that we talked about how well I know you. And I do, Kate – I know you very well. Well enough to trust you, to love you, to invite you into my home. Well enough to constantly seek your advice on how to parent Alexis."
Now the direction of this conversation starts to come into focus. "You mean that…," Beckett trails off, growing uncertain and not wanting to embarrass herself.
"I mean that I actively blocked Gina's overtures to guide Alexis but sought out your help and advice," Castle confesses, pausing while they walk a little further down the beach.
"So, confiding in my daughter, being honest with her despite your discomfort? Don't ever apologize for that. It's been something I've wanted for a long, long time," he confesses. "I had to get you both out of there before I got teary right there in the precinct and tarnished my manly reputation."
"You trust me too much," Beckett replies after knocking shoulders with Castle, "and you give me too much credit. Alexis is a wonderful woman. You've done so well with her that it's hard to imagine there's much parenting left to be done."
"Ha! That's doubtful," Castle laughs. "Not all of her genes are recessive. No, she's a Castle, so she'll probably go off on a wild bender or drag home some shiftless drifter or move to a commune or some damn thing that will make me absolutely crazy," Castle chuckles. "And I'll get gray hairs for all the years it'll take off my life. Which is okay as long as it comes in here," he says while running his free hand through his hair from his temple back around his ear. "It'll help me look distinguished."
"If it stays in," Beckett chides, knowing that suggesting baldness is a cheap shot but unable to resist.
"Bite your tongue," Castle admonishes. "But, you're probably right, in a way," he sighs, picking up their discussion. "Alexis' trajectory is set and there isn't much I can do at this point other than cheer for her and catch her if she falls. That kind of brings us back to your question about Act Two."
"Let me guess," Beckett interjects. "If parenting disputes led to the first break-up, the theory was that parenting wouldn't get in the way with Alexis as a young adult?"
"That was Gina's theory," Castle admits. "Mine was a little less optimistic. Well, that's not right. Maybe it's more honest to say that my motivations were more about retreating than advancing."
"Demming," Beckett provides a single-word explanation to Castle's fumbling.
"I tried so hard to be happy for you," Castle says quietly. "And I tried to be honorable and stand aside, but I just screwed up the whole thing. Let me say this right now – it might have taken us two years longer than I'd hoped, but I'm ecstatic that you're here now. I'm sorry I made such a mess that it took us so long to get here."
"You didn't make the mess, Castle," Beckett disagrees. "I made my choice back then – I'd let Tom go and was ready to accept your invitation when Gina showed up." Still not thrilled with this topic, Beckett can't deny the feeling of catharsis from letting some of these secrets free. Maybe Castle's right – maybe they just need to get everything out and have some faith in their outcome.
"I know," Castle replies, jolting Beckett to a stop. When her stare makes it apparent that she's waiting for an explanation, Castle unslings the duffle bag. Withdrawing a towel for them to sit upon, he waits until she's settled next to him and then draws a blanket over their shoulders. The silence stretches out while they look out over the water, now illuminated by a sun that's almost fully risen.
Strength gathered for this next portion of their discussion, Castle begins with an explanation. "It took me a while, but I figured it out, eventually. The comments from the boys, the glares from Demming, the timing with Josh – it just hit me one morning. You noticed, actually," he says with a small huff.
"I did?" Beckett replies with surprise, not recalling any discussion like this.
"There's no reason you'd remember," Castle says with a small chuckle. "You know how we have those moments when we're building theory and everything just falls into place? That's what it was. I was sitting next to your desk and it just clicked. I went still and quiet, which obviously caught your attention."
"I bet it did," Beckett smiles. "I probably thought you were having a stroke."
"Heart attack, actually," Castle chuckles in reply. "You assumed that Ramirez had walked by and asked if I needed a defibrillator. You remember, the ADA who moved to Santa Fe?"
"I remember her," Beckett says with the smile slipping from her face. "It was practically a day of mourning when she left, at least among the men in the precinct. But, I find it interesting that you know where she went."
"We keep in touch," Castle says vaguely, "friends in common."
"She asked about you, back then," Beckett confesses. "I'm not sure that I gave you as glowing a recommendation as I should have, for purely selfish reasons."
"That's an interesting subject that certainly warrants further discussion," Castle crows, "but we're drifting off topic. I worked out our timing problem and realized that when I let Gina talk me into another try, I opened the door for Josh. It was like Demming all over again, except that it was worse because I pushed you at that damned umbrella."
"Umbrella?" Beckett asks, confused by this characterization. She'd expected Castle to go with the old nickname, or some new medical- or motorcycle-related epithet.
"If I 'love like a thunderstorm', what better way to describe him?" Castle asks.
"That's a pretty lame nickname, Castle," Beckett huffs as she pushes against his shoulder, "but a pretty accurate description of what he was. The longer we were together, the more obvious that became."
"We're entering old territory here," Castle says with a sigh. "I'm more interested in what happened after your shooting than before." As Beckett lets her head fall to look at her feet rather than the horizon, Castle jumps in as he puts an arm around her shoulder. "Sorry, that was too abrupt. I guess it's my turn to be anxious to get to some other topics. I know all of this is essential for us."
"Come on, Mr. Author, you've got to have a great metaphor to help us focus our effort, right?" Beckett teases in a bid to get back on track.
"I'm struggling a bit, obviously," Castle replies with a roll of his eyes and a squeeze of his arm. "You're not the only one who's daunted here. But, I'm trying. I've only got a trite agrarian analogy, but I'm sure I can come up with something that involves wizards, aliens, or Elvis if you give me a minute."
"Let's hear what you've already got, farm boy," Beckett requests quickly.
"Boring," Castle moans in reply. "But I'll play. We need to change positions first, though. C'mere," he says as he moves his legs into a v-position and pats the ground in front of him. Happy with his offer, Beckett scoots in front of him and leans back into his embrace.
"Much better," Castle says as he wraps his arms around her. Beckett agrees with a long, soft sigh.
"We're clearing our field," Castle explains. "Plucking the rocks, showing them to each other, then chucking them over the fence so they don't interfere with our harvest."
"Mmmmmm," Beckett replies, enjoying being wrapped in Castle. "What're we growing?"
"Old and happy together," Castle replies earnestly.
"I can't believe I walked right into that one," Beckett groans. "How long have you been waiting to use that line?"
"Since I asked you to come and cuddle," he confesses. "I figured it might make up for the field metaphor."
Turning her head, she rewards his playful optimism with a lingering kiss to his cheek. "I know we should be heading back and that we're got more stones to pull along the way," Beckett whispers. "But, can we just stay like this for a little while?"
"I think we've earned a break," Castle agrees, nuzzling her gently. "We're doing well here, Kate. Each painful memory exorcised, each missed opportunity recognized brings us that much closer. We'll get there."
Sighing and relaxing into him, Beckett again appreciates the hope that radiates from her partner brighter than the newly-risen sun. As contented as she feels, Beckett makes the effort to burn this moment into her memory – sitting on a beach, watching the water, lulled into a pleasant stupor by the whisper of waves and the comfort of Castle's embrace.
She blinks slightly in confusion as she looks again at the sun, which seems to have jumped higher in the sky.
"Welcome back," Castle whispers in her ear. Burrowing into him, Beckett's a little embarrassed that she fell asleep, but not surprised. It's hard to remember a time when she felt so comfortable and safe.
"Your back must be killing you," she finally says as she tries to lean forward, only to be stopped by an arm than bands around her, just below her shoulders.
"Just give me a minute," Castle requests, "I like to wake slowly from good dreams."
"You slept, too?" she asks in surprise, wondering how they didn't collapse in a heap right there on the beach.
"No," Castle whispers as he nuzzles her again.
"Castle?" she says after a few minutes. Receiving only a hum in response, Beckett takes a moment to enjoy the feeling before speaking. "I just want you to know that I've never felt as loved, as cherished, as you've made me feel. It's ridiculous, really," she says, surprising herself with a little chuckle, "that my most intimate moments just involve sitting with you, here on the beach or back at the loft with a hairdryer."
It takes Castle a few minutes to reply. In a voice as intimate as the scenes she's described, he whispers to her. "This is what I imagined, Kate, when I dreamed of us being together. I know there will be other dimensions to our relationship and I'm looking forward to exploring those," he says in a voice surprisingly free of bravado or suggestiveness. "But, this is the core, the heart of us."
"You were right, you know," Beckett whispers after she gets control of herself. "When you asked if my reaction to your dream was fear. I was terrified."
"I know, love, I know," Castle pauses for a beat, probably reining in his own emotions. "That was the biggest challenge to this whole Rogan scenario," he begins, leaving Beckett again amazed that Castle doesn't sound bitter or judgmental about her situation. "I thought that I'd have to move incrementally to get you used to the idea of a relationship. But the last two weeks haven't left much room for going slow."
"You pictured moving slowly?" Beckett says with some surprise. "I always thought that at some point we'd just look at each other and lose control." Then, in her own shy voice, she adds, "We've come close a few times."
"More than a few," Castle huffs out as a series of near-misses flits through Beckett's mind like an old-fashioned slide show. "And I'm kind of on the same page. I imagined an out-of-control explosion, too. Many of them, hopefully," he teases, finally letting his playfulness shine through and earning a little shove in return. "But, you know that I've dreamed about more. I started to worry that if we jumped before we were ready, that's all we'd have – some fantastic memories of obscenely aerobic exploits tinged with doubt about whether it would be enough to hold us together."
"You've come a long way, Castle," Beckett says as she leans forward and starts the process of getting them up and moving again. "That's not something I would ever have expected to hear from the guy who propositioned me on our first case."
"Best rejection of my life," Castle says as he stands and stretches to work out some kinks. "Don't get me wrong, Beckett," he says while casting her a devilish look before folding the blanket and towel before rolling them into a cylinder that slides easily into the duffle. "There were many, many times you had me panting. I was conditioned for our little refrigerator escapade by many cold showers, literal or figurative."
"Really," Beckett replies flatly as she burrows in for a standing hug, not willing to let him have sole claim to some frustration in their past. "I can't imagine."
"There's a reason that Southern California is still suffering a drought," Castle replies. Beckett's glad that her face is pressed under his cheek so that he doesn't see what she's sure is a radiant blush. She still thinks about that night…
"Come on," she says briskly, stepping out of his embrace and grasping his hand. "We need to get back before Alexis and my dad get worried," she says while giving his hand a tug, "and I still have some explaining to do. Someone keeps pulling us off topic."
"Go easy on me, officer," Castle replies, "it's my first offense. I promise to behave."
Knowing that such an offer has a limited shelf-life, Beckett decides to jump to the heart of her confession in case they get distracted again. "My therapy sessions are mostly about you these days," she says, immediately catching Castle's attention as he grows serious. "They started as a way to deal with my shooting, but I eventually got better, with the help of my therapist," she says while looking at Castle, "and you."
He's struggling to remain quiet and give her the space she needs to explain. But Beckett can see the exact moment when he decides on a compromise. Coming to a quick stop, he leans in and gives her a kiss, then pulls on her hand to get them back on pace.
Smiling gently, Beckett continues with a lighter heart. "As I dealt with my shooting, that left my unresolved feelings for you as the main source of confusion," she confesses. "So, Doctor Burke has been helping me. He's a good counselor, even when I frustrate him. And trust me, Castle, I have done, often. Especially lately."
"You, frustrating?" Castle can't help but interject. "Inconceivable!"
"'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,'" Beckett replies in a terrible Spanish accent, earning a radiant Castle smile in response.
"Besides, I'll prove it with two examples," Beckett challenges, to Castle's accepting nod. "Exhibit one," Beckett intones, trying to emulate Fitz's lawyerly tone but failing as the severity of the coming conversation swells, "my lie about not remembering my shooting or your beautiful words then."
Taking a moment to gather herself before she dives in to this topic, she risks a quick sideways glance at Castle. He's reserved, staring forward into the distance. It takes a moment to place the look, then she remembers him standing in front of the sink after their lunch on Thursday, still hurt from the conversation they'd had at Vinnie's. Seeing him so upset should freak her out, but instead it invigorates her. Like a doctor who's found the cause of a disease rather than the symptoms, she knows that if they can just come to terms with this they might be in the clear.
"I'm going to tell you why I lied, Castle. I'm going explain, as best I can, why I did what I did last summer," she promises. "But, before I start, I want to say two things clearly, in case I mess up," she says as she comes to a stop, then moves around to stand right in front of him. "So, just to make sure that there's no confusion, I want you to know these two things. First, your words were precious to me. When everything else was bleak, when I was so scared or in so much pain that I couldn't think, those words sheltered me." She feels a little guilty at this characterization and its excess romanticism, but she promises herself that she'll explain this more soon.
"Second," she says while looking into his eyes, making sure that she has his attention, "I know that I didn't treat you well, that I hurt you. I'll explain what happened, but please know that I'm not trying to rationalize or … minimize what I did. I'm so sorry, Castle. You deserved better."
Castle stares at here intensely for several long moments, then gives a silent nod. She's gratified that he didn't make a joke or refer to the Bundt cake story – he's let go of his most reliable defense mechanism and is totally focused on her.
Tugging on his hand to get them moving again, Beckett falls into place beside him. "I've never known the kind of pain, the kind of terror, I experienced when I was shot," Beckett says, quietly. "It's funny – in this job, you know your chances of getting shot are pretty high. But the longer you defy the odds, the more you convince yourself that if anything does happen, it won't be that bad," she scoffs. "It was horrible, Castle. Nothing made sense, everything hurt – light, sound, memories. The only relief from the terror was overwhelming pain. And shame. Shame that I was so weak when I'd convinced everyone I was so strong."
Looking at him again, she's shocked to see tear tracks on his cheek. She hasn't even gotten past what she was feeling and his heart has broken for her.
"I used your words, your love as a refuge," Beckett confesses. "When I couldn't hold on, when everything was a blur of pain or panic, I at least knew that I was someone who could be loved. I'm sorry, Castle, but I didn't even let myself think about the romantic importance of those words from you to me. I needed to heal and get stronger, and for that I needed to remember who I was before I was shot. Sometimes, all I could remember is that I was someone who could be loved."
"Someone who was, someone who is extraordinary," Castle says quietly but surely.
"But I didn't feel that way, Castle," Beckett replies. "I felt broken."
Her admission silences them both for several long moments, leaving them to their thoughts as they retreat internally, nearly unaware of their bucolic surroundings.
"Why didn't you call?" Castle asks in a small voice, failing to hide the sound of his heartbreak.
"I was so scared, Castle," Beckett explains. "I felt like I was fighting to reclaim myself, to get back to who I was." While she's tempted to stop her explanation here, she promised to be honest in this conversation. So, even though it hurts, she expands on her explanation. "And, as much as I wish it weren't the case, who I was before I was shot wasn't somebody who'd reach out to you for help when she was vulnerable."
Turning to look at Castle, Beckett's a little worried about what she'll see. At first, she thinks he's not reacting at all, hiding behind a poker face. But as she studies him, she can tell that he's thinking about how they treated each other back then. She can see the frustrated acceptance as he reaches the same conclusion.
"And who are you now?" he asks. It's a fair question.
"Now, I'm somebody who's almost healed. I'm somebody who's diving into a relationship with an incredible man while I'm myself, not some panicked wreck. I'm someone who's seen how wonderful this could be," she says while squeezing his hand, "and who's willing to fight for it."
"You've talked to your counselor about this?" Castle asks. It's hard to read him right now – his tone is guarded, so she can't tell if he's upset that she talked to someone else about this or not. She worries that his tone and temperament seem a little like Alexis' after their talk Thursday night.
"I have. Repeatedly. He wasn't impressed with my initial lie or my failure to own up to it," she confesses.
"So why did you? Lie, I mean. I think I understand what you were going through, the way you explained it. But I don't understand why you had to lie to me. I would've left you alone if you said that's what you needed," Castle asks, some frustration and disappointment bleeding through into his question.
"I didn't trust you, Castle," Beckett admits in a low tone. "That's my failing, with no reflection on you. But back then, I was worried that you'd try but not be able to give me the time I needed."
"Would that have been so terrible?" Castle asks plaintively.
"I needed to be me, Castle," Beckett struggles to explain. "Dr. Burke's helped me to realize that I don't have to be perfect, I get that. And I understand better now than ever that I don't have to solve mom's case before I can live for myself. But I didn't feel like me for months after my shooting, and I didn't want to start something with you as anyone but myself. If that makes any sense," she trails off, wondering if she's done anything other than cause confusion.
Castle looks like he's wrestling with something, leaving Beckett nervous about what's coming. She's running out of time – she's not exactly sure which house is his, but they've been walking for a while now so they must be getting close. Knowing their talk will be postponed once they're back among relatives, she's hoping that they can get to a good place before they arrive.
"I'm sorry, Beckett," Castle finally says. "I don't want to dwell on this or seem like I'm pouting. But I'm not sure when we'll be talking about this again and I know that I'll kick myself if I don't ask this now," Castle prefaces. "But if you lied to buy yourself time to get better, why didn't you tell me once you were back? Why were you so cryptic when we had our conversation on the swings?"
"Don't forget, Rick," she says, trying to drive the point home with her use of his first name. "I know I messed up. I'm not trying to justify what I did, just explain it. And I guess there are two explanations. The first is something I'm working on with Dr. Burke – how to accept that I don't need to be perfect before I let myself jump in with you. I went a little overboard on the getting healthy thing," she says with consternation. "So, I put off confiding in you while I was getting stronger, or thought I was. It was …"
"A misguided pursuit of unattainable perfection that conveniently justified procrastination?" Castle interrupts. He's still hurt, Beckett knows, but now some of the anger is starting to show through. Finally. Now they're getting somewhere.
"Dr. Burke is usually more oblique when he talks about it, but yeah," Beckett confesses sardonically. "And, yes, it became a stalling technique. He helped me see that."
"Did he help you before or after our dinner at Vinnie's?" Castle asks, still upset.
"He's helped me since I came back," Beckett confesses. "It took me a while to actually talk to him for real, rather than just say the things I thought he needed to hear to authorize my return to active duty. But I'm still seeing him, especially when I need help. And I needed a lot of help after the terrible things I said at dinner," she confesses again, trying to make sure he knows how terrible she feels about that conversation, "and what I learned about afterwards."
Castle still looks upset, but Beckett's worried that she's missing something. Fear making her bold, she decides to be as direct as he's been.
"Rick, I know I've made mistakes and I'm trying to get better," she says as a way to lead in to her question. "But it feels like there's something bothering you that I can't figure out. Are you angry that I talked to my therapist about this, about us?"
Castle looks forward for a few steps without responding. Beckett's getting a little nervous about his answer – she hadn't thought that Castle might feel upset or betrayed by her conversations with Dr. Burke. She's not sure what she's going to do if Castle objects.
"No," Castle says, breaking her thoughts. "I can only be happy, and grateful, that he's been helping you. I wasn't entirely joking earlier – I had noticed the changes in you since you came back and wondered if you were getting help. To be honest, I'm glad to hear that it was a counselor."
He couldn't really have thought that she'd confide in someone else, someone new, could he? Then again, how much insight has she really given him since returning from the cabin?
"Of course it was a counselor, Rick. I was trying to get stronger for us, remember?" she cajoles, trying to invigorate some faith.
"But I didn't know that then," Castle counters. "In fact, I'm not sure I'd know it now if not for your marital situation," he sighs. "I guess that's what's bothering me. Nothing you've said suggests that you were ready – we've just been reacting to outside circumstances for the past couple weeks. Tell me this," he says as he pulls on her hand, turning them away from the shore and signaling their imminent arrival at his house. "If not for Rogan and what we've dealt with lately, would you still be stalling?"
"I don't know, Rick," Beckett answers, knowing that it's not the answer that he wants to hear but hoping that he appreciates her candor. "It's like you said to Alexis – this thing between us has been getting stronger and stronger. I'm not sure when I would have confessed, but I think we would've come together soon even without Rogan."
"But maybe that's my point, or why I'm upset," Castle says. He's running his free hand through his hair in exasperation or frustration, which reminds Beckett that his other hand is still grasping one of hers. Given how the latest portion of their talk is going, his refusal to let go provides some comfort. "If we found each other before then would you still have confessed, or would you've figured that it didn't matter anymore and just remained silent?"
Beckett's out of time, literally and figuratively. They're approaching Castle's house and the view, as she'd imagined, is breathtaking. But now's not the time for a comment like that, despite the set-up at the beginning of their walk. They've also alit on a topic where Beckett doesn't have a good answer. She suspects that if she and Castle had started a relationship before she confessed about her lie, it would have been altogether too easy to convince herself that no good would come of dredging up old history.
"Castle," she says, coming to a halt so that they can have a last little bit of privacy. "I know you want to hear that I would've confessed soon, whether we were in a relationship or not. I wish I could give you that answer. But, we're being honest with each other now, even … no, especially … on our touchy subjects. I'd like to think that I would've been brave, but I'm not sure I would've been. The honest answer is that I don't know what I would've done. I would've been terrified that a late confession would end us before we started."
Looking at her sadly, Castle considers her words, then nods. She's not sure what that means. Just as she's about to ask, Alexis calls out. "There you are," she shouts from a balcony. "We've been worried! Get in here, brunch is almost ready."
After another long look, Castle leads them to the house. His firm grip on her hand bolsters Beckett's hopes her last statement hasn't already come true.
A/N2: A few folks suggested that I should follow through on the trip to the Hamptons after skipping past date night in Breaking Away. It didn't quite go the way I thought it would, but I guess there are more than a few things that these two need to talk through if they actually want this to work. The next chapter will pick up where this one left off, so we'll see where this goes. I'm out of sick days, so it's back to work with a road trip in the offing. Not sure if that'll mean more or less time to write, but I'm hoping to have the next chapter up by the middle of next week.
