Reminiscence

Chapter 13

Kate sits by the fireplace, body bundled up in two layers of blankets draped over her shoulders, bare feet and hands angled toward the crackling flame just behind the metal fire screen. She watches wistfully as the fire dances in front of her, swaying left and right, always haphazardly switching directions, never remaining in the same shape for very long. Occasionally it sputters with a bright flame when it burns into a trail of tree sap or the remnants of a leaf, other times it dims with a slow burn until reigniting when it's fed by a new section of the log. The sight of it feels so familiar to her.

"Warm now?"

Castle appears beside her, nudging a mug of hot cocoa into her hands. Just another one of the many items he'd gotten on his little shopping spree this morning, and one that she accepts from him readily.

"Mhm," she hums as he takes a seat beside her. "Very much so."

"Another s'more?" he asks, dangling the bag of marshmallows in front of her.

"No, I'm good. Thank you, though."

They sit quietly for a moment, basking in the orange glow, and then Castle turns to her, a question in his eyes, one not yet making it's way to his lips.

She tilts her head toward him, looks at him expectantly. His mouth opens, closes. He shakes his head.

"What?" she prompts, shifting her cloaked body around to face him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something," she notes. "It's written all over your face."

"Really, it's not that important. Just me being ridiculous."

"That's nothing new."

"Kate—"

He draws out her name on a whine of a voice, shifts nervously under her gaze. She reaches her hand out, sets it over his and turns back to the fire, still dancing powerfully in front of them.

"Tell me anyway."

He takes her hand in his, follows her line of sight to the orange flame.

"This," he starts, squeezing her hand lightly. "This isn't going to be one of those things we do and never talk about again, is it?"

Her eyes arc back to him, flicking briefly down to his mouth and back up to his eyes.

"No," she says resolutely, squeezing back. "Actually I...I want to talk about this. Us."

"You do?"

He turns to meet her eyes again, a bit thrown when he finds her pulling her hand from his, shifting uncomfortably now under his watchful eye.

"There's things I need to say, things that I should have told you a long time ago," she takes a deep breath, dips her chin down onto the knee she's curled up into her chest.

"Things you might hate me for."

Castle licks his lips, swallows nervously.

"Hate you—? What is that supposed to mean, Kate?"

She's gone over this scenario in her head hundreds of times over the past several months. She's come up with dozens of what-if's and possible fallouts. None of them good. Not even remotely. How can she soften the blow? How can she give him the honest truth without shattering his heart?

She can't. Can't come up with a single solution.

'The truth can never hurt you.'

God, she hopes her mother is right on this one.

She sets her mug down, turns to him, palms flat against her thighs she's now crossed in front of her. She holds herself steady, then lets the truth be set free.

"I heard you."

He stares at her blankly.

"I didn't say any—"

"When I was shot. When I was on the grass in your arms. I heard you. I heard everything."

The realization sinks into his features then, his eyes going wide, his jaw falling slack.

"You remember?"

"Not what I said."

"You never forgot." Not a question.

"Last memory before I passed out, first memory when I woke up."

Their next words come out in unison.

"I lied to you—"

"You lied to me—"

"I knew it."

Kate stiffens, chances a look up to his eyes but quickly turns them down again, shamefully.

He runs a hand down his face, scratches anxiously at the hairs at the back of his head. Then he rocks forward, stands.

She was expecting this. It's just one of many outcomes she'd conjured up in her head. He's going to get up and leave. Storm out of here, angry as hell.

"Go ahead. Yell at me."

"What?"

"Don't hold back. I deserve it," she says dejectedly.

His mouth goes slack.

"What are you—Kate, I'm not going to yell at you."

"You should. You have every right to be angry with me."

"I'm not angry."

She snaps her eyes back up to him in surprise. Not angry? Bull. He has to be. That's not—

"How...is that even possible?"

"I've had my suspicions for a while now."

He's had his suspicions. He's not angry.

The calmness in his voice is unnerving.

"How...?" she repeats, the only word she can consciously recall, only thing she can verbalize.

"I was furious with you, those three months. And it hurt. It still hurts, but—"

"I never wanted to hurt you," she interjects then, shaky fingers grabbing onto his pant leg, still damp with snow.

"I know that's exactly what I did by pretending I didn't remember, that I didn't hear you, but Castle I..."

"I know," he says gently, kneeling back down, cupping a hand to her cheek.

She stares at him in disbelief.

What?

"You tried to tell me what you were feeling, what you were going through. I just didn't hear you. What you really meant, what you were really trying to say to me. I couldn't see the full picture. Not until we started working together again. Not for a while."

They had never talked about that either, but thinking about it now, there's no way he could have missed it. If she didn't remember the shooting, being shot, how would her PTSD have manifested in the face of a gun pointed at her? And especially so strongly in the sniper case?

He's suspected all this time, even when she kept lying to him. He still said nothing. Never pushed. Just waited, supported her however he could.

"I was angry over the summer, madder than hell at you. I was still mad when you showed up at my book signing. I was a mess those three months apart but then there you were again, trying so hard not to break when everything was still tearing you apart."

He brings his lips to her forehead, kisses her softly, lingers.

"I didn't then, but I get it now, Kate. Maybe not completely, but I do."

She feels the need to explain now, best as she can.

"Montgomery was dead. I almost died, too and the guy who shot me is still out there," she sighs, smiles glumly, apologetically. "And I was still hiding behind Josh with you there, holding out for something I couldn't give you. Something I couldn't reciprocate yet."

He nods, understanding.

"You needed time to figure everything out." He laughs wryly. "A lot of time."

"I'm so sorry. If I could—"

Castle shakes his head, brushes back strands of hair behind her ear.

"What about now? What's different now? Where do we go from here?"

She looks at him thoughtfully.

"Now I...I want to change."

"What do you mean?"

"I've just been walking around as this shell of my former self, this incomplete mess of a person, making selfish decisions and hurting all the people around me. I run and I hide. It's all I've ever known to cope when I'm hurt, when I'm scared."

The blankets fall off her shoulders as she darts out of them, gripping the lapels of his jacket tightly and pulling herself flush against him.

"I'm all twisted up inside, Castle, but I don't want to go back down that rabbit hole anymore."

His arms come up around her, enveloping her body.

"So, your mother's case? You don't...you're not going to pursue it anymore?"

She shakes her head.

"I want to solve my mom's murder. I want to give her the justice she deserves."

Castle's eyes widen when she lifts up, nestles in close to his cheek.

"But not at the expense of my life. I want to be whole again. To be happy."

She brushes her lips across his skin, stopping just above his unsuspecting mouth.

"You make me happy," she murmurs against his lips before she slants hers over them.

Castle curls an arm around her lower back and gently eases her back onto the blanketed floor as they kiss.

"This is so surreal," she whispers when they pull apart.

"Hmm?"

"Of all the possible outcomes I thought of coming clean to you, I never dreamed this would be the one."

Castle laughs, gives her a quick peck on the lips.

"What, do you really want me to stomp out the door in an angry tirade?"

"No. Well, yes." She laughs, too. "Sort of?"

"I'll do it if it makes you happy."

"Castle I just...I want you to be sure. I don't want you to have any doubts about me after what I did. I want us to be happy. Together."

Sliding off to the side of her, his elbow to the floor, he props his chin up with his hand. Curling a finger in a ringlet of hair that frames the side of her face, he looks down upon her affectionately. So beautiful, this woman before him. So beautiful and all his.

"Just answer me one question, Kate. Confirm something for me."

"Anything."

Whatever it is, she'll answer it. No holding back. Absolute honesty now.

"You know I love you." Her heart flutters at his words. "Do you love me?"

There isn't a moment of hesitation, not even the briefest fraction of time before the answer lights up on her face. It starts in her eyes, ends in the beaming, uninhibited smile, teeth and all.

"With all my heart," she admits honestly, "Mangled and torn up as it is, I do. I love you, Rick. I love you."

He sinks back down to her, foreheads and noses bumping, arms cradling her sides as she folds her own around his neck, burrowing into the soft flesh beneath his chin. They both sigh contentedly, wrapped around each other.

"Then I'm the happiest man alive," he says before he leans in to kiss her with every ounce of that joy.