Mist

xxx

"You all strapped in?" Kate turns around to face their kids, gets a nod of affirmation from each of them and pats her husband's thigh as a signal for him to pull out of Aunt Theresa's driveway. The sedan is roomy, especially in the back, so at least their squabbling children are separated for the drive back to the city.

It's been a great weekend, catching up with her father's sister. Some of Kate's cousins stopped by as well, fawned over Beckett's children. She was always the baby of the family; her next oldest cousin has ten years on her.

The reminder of her wider family, her children's family, has been good for her. And Castle knows it, keeps giving her these looks as if he's desperate to talk it out with her. In deference to that, Kate leaves her hand on his thigh as he drives.

It's been thirteen years since they got married, but Rick is still pretty terrified of Aunt Theresa. It took him most of the weekend to drop his public persona and just relax around her. "Hey? Thank you."

"For what?" He smiles, flicking a glance at her before he returns his attention to the road. She likes driving, that's no secret, but she really does love when her husband drives too. Loves the shift of muscle in his forearms, the things concentration does to his face.

"Letting us do this. I know Aunt Theresa isn't your favourite person to be around." She shrugs, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the kids aren't hanging on her every word the way they do. It's late, the night like a shroud around the car, and Bea's eyes are already drooping closed. Could mean she isn't listening; could mean her hearing is even more heightened than usual.

"It's not that." Her husband hurries to assure her. "I just don't think that she thinks I'm good enough for you."

The terrible part is that it's sort of true. Aunt Theresa hates Castle's public persona, hates that he's somewhat famous. And the way she bristles towards him makes him hide behind the shield of his celebrity status, means he's never himself around her. It's a vicious cycle that Kate has been trying to break for years.

"You're right. She doesn't think mystery novelist Richard Castle is good for me. But that's not you." He snorts, self-deprecating the same way he always is when they visit Kate's aunt. Another way he tries to mask the true hurt. "She doesn't know the Rick parts of you. She doesn't know that you're the person I trust more than anyone in the world. That you're the best possible husband and father to our children that I could have asked for."

"I just want her to like me." He murmurs, his forehead creased with dismay. Kate smoothes two fingers over his skin, scrubs away at that upset until she earns herself a smile.

They're on a road that winds through the countryside now, and mist is rolling in from all sides. It makes her pulse kick a little harder, the spooky feel of it distracting her from her husband's pain momentarily. When she looks at him again he glances right back at her and grins, makes his eyebrows dance.

"Kids, look outside. This is the perfect time for scary stories, right?"

"I have one." Kate says, twisting around to see both kids straining forward in their seats. Hanging on her every word, and she swallows. Even at ten and twelve, they still love their father's stories. Mom's are still good, but she can't always compete with Castle. "It's good."

She closes her eyes, tries to remember the story exactly the way that Maddie told it to her all those years ago in high school. Pretty soon, she gets swept away in the careful crafting of the story and it trips out of her mouth easily.

There's a hushed – terrified – silence in the car. Even Castle isn't interjecting like he usually would. When Kate reaches the end of her story the quiet seems to push up against the windows. With the mist, and the wind ripping fiercely through the trees, Kate has spooked even herself.

Turning back to face her kids, she sees that Jack has put on a brave face, but his bottom lip is white where he bites down hard on it. Bea's face is almost totally obscured by the stuffed animal she clings to, and Kate swallows, turning back to look at her husband.

"Too much?"

"Just a little." He snorts, raising an eyebrow even as he drives. "Kate, I swear, if something comes out of the mist right now. . ."

"Nothing's going to come out of the mist." She rolls her eyes, turning back to face her kids again. "Stories are just that. Stories. They can affect us, they can make us feel things so deeply, but they're not real. And anyway, I have a gun."

"Yeah, at home." Castle moans, hamming up his fear for their children. It makes both of them laugh, and then Bea leans forward in her seat to awkwardly pat her father's cheek.

"It's okay, Dad. Mom can still kick butt without it."

"That's right." Kate grins, holding out her hand for a high five from her daughter. Bea returns it, settling back in her seat again but at least looking a little less freaked out now. "That's our job, as Mom and Dad. We keep you safe, no matter what."

She will move heaven and earth to protect these kids. From the monsters in stories, and from the monsters that walk the streets of their city. Castle's driving one-handed now, his other curled around her knee as if in protection.

Yes. . .she'd give her own life for him, too. The three people in the car with her now are the most precious thing she has, the thing she loves most. "Babe." Her husband says, squeezing her knee. "Come on. There's no tragedy. Not today."

Right. No tragedies today.