Author's Note: Massive thank you to all of your for your kind words and support. I apologize for the lack of individual replies to reviews, but know that I appreciate every one of them.
Chapter 12
Kate rises early the next morning, needing to head back to her apartment to shower and change before heading into the precinct and having the two conversations she's not looking forward to at all.
They crawled back into bed after their middle of the night chat with a large space between them once again, Kate lying awake for at least another hour before finally rolling over, curling close to Castle, to the warm cove of his body, and succumbing to the pull of sleep. If he hadn't already been asleep, she'd have expected him to turn away from her, to increase the distance once again, and yet sometime in the night, Castle's arm made its way to her. The limb is now draped heavily over her waist, pressing her into the bed, holding her to him, and she smiles, because at least his sleeping self still wants to be close to her.
She allows herself a moment of respite, a moment in which she allows herself to believe that everything is okay again, that they're back to how they were, able to smile and laugh and love without hesitation. But work calls, paperwork left over from the case that she dumped on Ryan and Espo, and she's not proud of the way she left things with them. Or with Gates. Her captain still doesn't even know that she's decided to turn down the position and remain at the Twelfth.
She doesn't foresee Gates being overly thrilled with her decision, if for no other reason than the fact that the woman apparently gave her a glowing recommendation.
And so Kate gently slips from beneath the comfort of Castle's arm, her toes curling against the cold wood as they hit the floor. She makes her way to the bathroom, quietly goes about brushing her teeth, splashing some water on her face, taming the tangled mess of hair that hangs limply down her back.
When she emerges, Castle is awake, having rolled over onto what's become her side of the bed, his face half-buried in her pillow. He lifts his head as she crosses the room and she smiles gently, perches on the edge of the bed.
"Morning," she offers.
"Are you leaving?" He speaks at the exact same time.
"Going into the precinct," she clarifies. "I need to take care of a few things."
He hums a noncommittal response.
"Meet me there in an hour?" she questions hopefully.
But Castle shakes his head. "I need to finish up a couple chapters." It's not untrue. He has the emails from Gina to prove it. But he also isn't sure he's quite ready to be back at the precinct where he'll have to face prying eyes and pretend everything is fine. He's not sure he can do that today. Not yet.
"You can just tell me if you need space."
"It's not..." he works himself into a seated position, the covers falling down to his waist, and she can see the definition of his biceps, the muscles in his chest, taught and defined beneath the thin white fabric of his t-shirt. "I really do need to write," he says.
"Okay," she concedes, though she can't hide the disappointed sigh in her voice.
"Kate..."
"What?" she asks harshly, getting to her feet.
"Just give me today. Please."
She crosses the room, retrieves her discarded clothes and quickly changes into them. Her back is to him as she fastens her bra, pulls on her pants and shirt, but as she tilts her head to toss her hair over her shoulder, she can't help but notice Castle's eyes on her, gaze tracing the curve of her hips, and a swell of pride flares through her, because at least he's still noticing her.
Kate smiles smugly to herself, a barely-suppressed grin, and when her eyes catch Castle's again, his head is cocked, expression curious and confused.
"What?"
"Nothing," she replies automatically.
His eyes narrow in reproach.
She swallows hard, forces herself to talk, to be honest. "I just...I miss you, Castle."
Kate closes her eyes, drops her head into her hands. She misses the way he used to kiss her like he couldn't get enough, the way he couldn't keep his hands off of her. She misses the beautiful stories he used to spin for her, be they for a case or a random person on the street. She misses the love that used to radiate in his eyes when he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room.
She misses her best friend, her partner in every sense of the word.
She wants to take back all of the lies, the decisions she's made. She wants to un-break his heart, undo the damage she's done.
She just wants him back by her side.
"I'm sorry," she says again. "I'll go."
"Kate, no..."
"I just..."
He shakes his head as she trails off. "God, what happened to us?"
"I don't know," she admits sadly, inching closer and sinking into the bed once more, eyes fluttering rapidly to suppress the tears of anger and sadness and insecurity and disappointment that she's been holding back for so long. "We went from spending every night together to me dancing half-naked in your shirt and getting turned down, and..."
"Kate..." he interrupts, has to coax her eyes back up to his. "Look at me." When she relents, steels her resolve and meets his eyes, he reaches out, runs a finger gently down her cheek. "You're stunning," he murmurs. "And I love you. I'm sorry that I made you doubt that, and I apologize for the way I treated you that night. But the truth is, I play video games. And when I do, I get sucked in. I'm not asking you to like it," he adds quickly when she opens her mouth to protest. "I'm just asking you to not keep holding it against me."
She blinks slowly, nods. It stung at the time, and the memory still does. But he's right. She's not being fair. She's going to have to get over it, and she may as well start now. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he answers automatically, though they both know it's just a knee-jerk response.
"It's not," she counters. "I shouldn't have assumed."
He cocks his head curiously.
"I felt like we were plateauing. Or that you were..." she shakes her head, trails off. "And then all of the sudden, you wanted to marry me."
"It wasn't sudden."
That captures her undivided attention. "What?"
"It wasn't sudden, Kate," he repeats, softer this time. "I'm in this. I want you in my life. But..." he trails off.
"But what?"
"I didn't think there was any hurry," Castle admits, and he was obviously not incorrect in his assumption. "You loved me, and that was enough."
"And now it's not," she states.
"No, no, it is," he assures her genuinely. "It always will be. As long as it comes with the promise that you're as committed to this as I am."
"I am," she replies without hesitation.
She doesn't expect two words to convince him, but maybe they will kick-start the process, both in her mind and her actions. Because the truth is, she loves him. She wants the future that his ring signifies. But a part of her, the part of her that still bears wounds from losing her mother, is terrified. She's been on the other side of this, and she knows how much it hurts. How completely debilitating it can be if things fall apart.
But she's also gradually coming to learn that some risks are meant to be taken. And that in the end, it'll be worth it no matter what. It's not been an easy or rapid process, but she can feel that she's slowly getting there.
"I have to go," she says softly after a minute. She's been avoiding the precinct, partly due to the need to smooth things over with Castle, but also because she's dreading the conversations that need to be had.
But just like it's time to face these conversations with Castle, she needs to face the others as well.
Kate starts to leave and Castle settles back against the pillows, but she pauses at the last minute, dashes back to him. She rests a hand on his bicep, eyes searching his. "I love you," she whispers, and the words still feel foreign leaving her mouth, only the third time she's spoken them. But they feel right, too. "And I'm sorry that I've been terrible about showing it lately."
He snags her arm as she leans back, pulls her close and lifts his head to press his lips to hers. It's been days since they've kissed. And in spite of everything else, he's missed her. So much.
And she loves him. She's not standing on a bomb and they're not screaming mad at each other. But she loves him. He can work with this.
Kate lifts a hand, cups his jaw, lingering. He doesn't move to deepen the kiss and she doesn't push, but they're slow to separate. When she opens her eyes again, Castle is gazing at her tenderly, and she can't help the smile that spreads across her face. Because this is the most normal things have been all week.
And as she finally steps back, makes her way out of the room and, subsequently, the loft, she feels the hope blossom in her chest.
They'll make it through this.
Thoughts?
