A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! You guys are so awesome.
Disclaimer: Just. Yeah. Not mine.

Chapter Ten

June 23, 2012

59 Days Before

Kate opened the door to the loft and stepped inside. She lived there now; she didn't need Castle to let her in.

"Mommy, Mommy!"

Kate smiled and crouched a second before a small body crashed into her, tiny arms curling around her neck. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the toddler and stood up.

The boy was no older than two, a skinny little thing with bright blue eyes. His dark curls were damp and he was wearing his Lightning McQueen pajamas – Castle must've just given him bath.

"Hey, love," Castle greeted, smiling wide. He moved from his spot at the island, walking over to his girlfriend and son.

He wrapped an arm around Kate when he reached her, holding her close. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, not lingering for long, but long enough for her son to start giggling (he thought kissing was sooo funny.)

"Eww, kissy-face!" The little boy interrupted, kicking his spindly legs in protest.

Kate and Castle pulled apart, grinning at their giggling son.

They were a family; him, her, and the baby they'd created by accident that first night.

"Welcome home," Castle said softly, the love unmistakable in his voice.

"Home, Mommy," the boy said cheerfully. "Wel-ome home, Momma."

Home.

Home with her family.

Kate's eyes snapped open like she'd had a nightmare, and for a moment, she was extremely disoriented.

Where was – where was her baby? Where was the little boy with those beautiful blue eyes?

And then she remembered – the miscarriage. The tumor.

The perfect little world she'd created in the dream – it wasn't real.

That adorable little boy wasn't real.

He'd never be real.

A few tears escaped, but to her surprise, she didn't break down. Her chest ached for a person she'd never know, hollow and cold, but it didn't push her over the edge.

She turned over on her side, looking at Castle, who was laying on his side, not facing her.

She scooted closer, curling her body against him, tucking her knees underneath his. She buried her face in his shirt, focusing on him, inhaling his scent.

He shifted a little, murmuring sleepily, "Kate?"

"It's okay," she whispered. "Go back to sleep. You're still dreaming."

He fell back asleep.

Her thoughts drifted to him, as they often did in their dark, quiet bedroom, while he was sleeping and she was not.

She was hurting him. He wouldn't say so, it didn't show on his face (mostly), but she knew. How would he survive . . . this? She wouldn't, that was a given, but him . . . physically, he was perfectly fine.

She didn't want to hurt him.

But it wasn't something she could avoid.

Both of them were already in too deep. Too in love.

Another tear escaped the corner of her eye, disappearing into her hair.

The next morning, Kate woke up to cold sheets and an empty bed. She laid there for a moment, blinking away sleep and sudden tears.

This needed to stop. She didn't want to spend her last months weepy and emotional. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to smile and laugh and be happy with Castle, despite her fate.

Speaking of Castle – she got up, padded into the kitchen, and saw him making pancakes.

"Comfort food?" She asked, by way of greeting.

He startled, nearly burning his hand. He turned and smiled at the sight of her.

"Good morning to you too," he said, forced happiness.

She didn't call him out on it. She understood.

She walked over to him and pressed a light kiss to his lips. "Chocolate chip?"

"Of course."

She exhaled in an amused sort of way, smiling at his childishness. She didn't need a mirror to know she was looking at him with bright, adoring eyes.

"Are they almost ready?"

"Yeah. Five more minutes."

A few minutes later, they were eating in silence. She couldn't help but think that, two weeks ago, they would've been laughing, joking, and teasing each other at this point. The pancakes would've been a "thank so much for last night," rather than the "sorry your life's been turned completely upside down and I can't fix it" they really were.

She quickly glanced up from her pancakes and immediately dropped her gaze.

He was watching her. Not in the adoring way he usually did. No, today his look was full of concern.

Did he know about . . . ?

"You had a nightmare last night."

She looked up at him again. "Yeah. I did."

"The baby, or the tumor?"

"The baby."

A nod from him.

"How'd you know?"

"I didn't sleep much last night."

"You were awake?"

Another nod.

Silence.

Their roles reversed – he stared down at his pancakes, she stared at him.

They were silent for a long time.

And then came the hourly: "How're you feeling?"

"Fine."

Her head ached; her skin was covered in horribly itchy bumps; the pancakes were already unsettling her stomach.

But she was fine.

This was normal.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"I should quit."

Kate and Castle were watching a movie, later that night, after Kate returned home from work. The words escaped before she even thought them. They slipped past her lips with a mind of their own and settled over the two of them heavily.

He turned to her with wide eyes.

A pretty blonde on screen laughed; a high, ringing, irritating sound.

"Quit what?" He asked, even though he already knew.

"My job," she answered.

His expression was unreadable. He could be quite good at hiding his emotions sometimes, she realized.

"I . . . I think that's a good idea."

She nodded. "Maybe we could go up to the Hamptons or something. Have our . . . first vacation together." She faked a smile for his sake, the unspoken and last ringing in their heads.

He spoke quietly, "Sounds good."

And he, too, faked a smile.

Gates was understanding about Kate quitting. The detective resigned without trouble or fuss – there was no throwing her badge onto the captain's desk or dramatic declarations of 'I quit.' Their conversation was actually quiet, Gates more sympathetic than Kate thought the older woman was capable of.

Kate was reluctant to clean out her desk. She could feel the sad looks thrown her way, some of them stares. It wasn't often that cops knew with such certainty that a fellow detective was going to die, and had to watch them clean out their desk.

There was a cold, horrible finality about it that Kate hated.

This was the last time she'd see the precinct. There'd be no more late nights with the boys, desks crowded with paperwork and Chinese take-out. There'd be no more theory-building with Castle. No more staring at the murder board until her eyes burned and her sight blurred slightly. No more morning coffee from the espresso machine Castle had bought at the beginning of their partnership. No more teasing from Ryan and Esposito. No more trips to the morgue to see Lanie. It was all over. It wasn't part of her life anymore.

That was a scary thought.

Wow. She thought, running her thumb over the letters on her nameplate. I'm getting soft.

Thoughts?

-Ellie