Previously in Apples & Cherries…They sort of just bummed around in bed and flashed back to the events following the Feds picking them up. Castle called Alexis. Beckett called Lanie and the boys.
Chapter Forty-Nine:
Rick devoured the smell of New York. It was heavily tainted with the scent of the airport (something like a hospital mixed with feet), but through the ventilation gaps of the boarding Jetway, he could pick up the precious hints of New York air filtering in. Cooking pavement. Discarded cigarettes. The East River.
As much as he loved the peace of the west coast, he was a New Yorker in his heart. Turning his head, he caught Kate breathing it in and smiled. Something told him the same was true for her if the first thing they both did after stepping off the plane was sniff up any hint they could get of their dear city. Addicts fresh from a product low.
They pushed their way up the carpeted path at a slight incline, feeling it bounce very lightly with each step. He was still tired. Almost an entire day of sleeping next to Kate still hadn't been enough to recharge his batteries. He'd been running on straight adrenaline and the occasional meal for far too long now; even those tight jeans in the back of his closet were hanging loose on his hips now. He couldn't wait to just get home, cook a huge meal, and eat until he was big and fat and sleepy. Kate looked like she could do with a similar type of food therapy. Her cheekbones were more prominent than usual and the jut of her clavicle was sharp enough to poke out against her shirt.
"Wanna eat dinner with us tonight?"
He turned his head to meet her gaze, eyebrows raised in a "no pressure" invitation.
"If it's okay with Alexis and Martha. They may want you all to themselves for a bit. It's probably been…rough for them. Not knowing the details of what you were doing."
"They'll want you there too. And then we can both fill them in on what happened. Not too detailed, of course."
"Of course."
"But I don't want to hide anything from them either. I don't think that's what they need."
She nodded in agreement and they walked the rest of the way to baggage claim in silence. Neither of them had checked bags, so they simply passed the carousel with the ever-growing crowd and moved out into the muggy air of the late summer. Castle scanned the swarm of people, eyes on the small section of drivers holding up signs for their intended passengers.
He had debated asking his mother and daughter to pick them up from the airport, but it just hadn't seemed right. No matter how badly he wanted to see them, it could wait. The airport lobby was no place for a reunion and the ride home was no place for catching up. He'd called ahead and set something up with the car company he normally used. Spotting the sign for "Castle", he steered Kate toward the heavily moustached man, more than ready to get in the car and go home.
…
The ride was quiet between the two, just as the plane had been. Kate stared out the window, watching her city roll by, perhaps looking to see if it had changed in some way in her absence. Opaque with nighttime and car exhaust, the air weighed heavily down on them with the comfortable familiarity of an old friend.
Kate snuck her hand across the backseat and linked her pinky through his. He smiled and gave it a tiny squeeze, watching as the gesture made the very tips of her lips curl upwards. He was glad for that hint of a smile; it meant her silence was benign. The quiet snaps of raindrops against the windshield stood out amongst the noises of traffic deep in the city. He hadn't even realized the thick, grey sky had been holding back rain. It had felt like a security blanket, protecting the city of New York.
They'd just left the most notoriously rainy division of the United States only to be confronted with more. It seemed to follow them. He didn't mind, though. Castle had always enjoyed New York in the rain. He'd watch as the streets virtually emptied and people disappeared into jackets in shades of grey and umbrellas that jostled each other as they passed.
He liked the way it washed away the fine powder of tiny aerial flotsam from the surfaces, leaving everything clean—or as clean as anything ever really got on the streets of New York City. The world came out brighter after a rain. Relieved, revived, resurgent. His city knew how to rain unlike any other place. It could hit you with a monsoon with little more warning than a weighty clap of thunder and a shift in the wind.
He let his head fall back onto the headrest to stare at Kate. The smile that had plucked at her mouth was still in place. Perhaps she too was ruminating on the blessings of a good rain. The car slowed and the tires spun up small, wet tails from the disturbed, freshly laid puddles. They sat unmoving next to each other.
Home.
They were finally home. Together. Not one of them off on the wrong coast chasing after a deranged psycho with a penchant for ropes and revenge. After taking a moment to draw in the feeling of loose ends tying, they came to the mutual unspoken agreement to exit the car. The rain was still light enough not to soak them as they hitched their bags over their shoulders and Castle tipped the driver for the ride.
Kate slipped her hand into his and they walked side by side into his building, cold compared to the humid heat that swamped the streets outside. They made their way to the elevator and waited as it was called down to the ground floor. They still hadn't spoken to each other and Castle began to wonder if perhaps he should come up with something to say. After thinking emptily for a moment, he realized that the silence was most likely due to the fact that he simply had nothing worthy to say.
The elevator lifted them as they crowded closer together, ignoring the ample space allotted to them for the journey up. Her hand was an icicle and his was a furnace, giving each other exactly what they needed. Soothing and comforting for both. When the slight drop at the halting of the elevator toyed with their stomachs, he held her hand tighter and she looked up into his eyes with a smile before walking out.
They reached his door and he lifted his key to the lock, eager to enter. Suddenly, her hand stopped his, reaching out to press it down. She held the thick muscles of his thumb and his eyes watched hers, waiting for an explanation.
It never came.
She tugged on his hand, bringing him flush against her body before she pushed up on her toes, finding his mouth. She tasted like New York, if that was even possible. Dark and rich and full of possibility. Their hands released each other and found new holds elsewhere. Hers slid up to his jaw. His pulled on her hips. After years of watching her draw her lower lip between her teeth, it sent a rush of novel familiarity when she latched onto his own. The pinch and the pull of it seemed to tug up a whole new level of need in him.
He pushed his hand around and up her back, hiking her shirt up with it and driving her body harder into his. She moaned and he took the opportunity to brush his tongue to hers, strong enough to draw the moan out a little longer but brief enough to leave her wanting more. It was some special kind of wonder to have Kate Beckett want you.
He hadn't realized she'd been walking him backwards until his back bumped against the solid surface of the door. He felt trapped by her hands, her lips, her legs, her hips. He was the most willing prisoner in this cage of her body. Throw away the key, please. Never let him out. His hand dropped down to dip just slightly below the waistband of her pants, feeling the beginnings of the delicious curve there. He slid his hand further and squeezed.
She laughed even as she pushed herself closer into him, lips still devouring his. He was getting the impression that she had no more control over stopping this runaway train of a kiss than he did. Finally, the hand that had made it into his hair gave a rough tug, assisting her in the need to pull away. He kinda liked it.
"Ready?" she asked him, still breathing a bit heavily.
"Uh…"
She smirked at him, that sexy, I-know-what-I-just-did-to-you look ruthlessly teasing him from her eyes.
She patted his chest and fiddled around with the collar of his shirt, straightening imaginary asymmetry. "Can't kiss you like that in front of Alexis and your mother. But couldn't go all night without one."
"Uh…"
"Now come on, Rick. Are you ready for it to all be officially over?"
"Dear god, yes."
He shoved the key into the door and then let them both in, his heart still beating madly in his chest, wondering when the next time she'd kiss him like that would be. Hopefully soon. Now would be good. And then for every second of the next year or two.
"Dad!"
Alexis was already halfway down the stairs and by the time he was fully inside, she'd jumped the last three to skid towards him in her socks. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and she squeezed him back so hard that it almost hurt a little.
"Hey, kid."
She pulled back and smiled up at him. Her eyes twinkled, but he could still see a bit of darkness in them. Maybe it would never truly go away. Maybe her eyes would always be that half a tint darker blue from the things they'd been forced to see. Not to mention the blaringly obvious brown hair.
At least the eye twinkle was back, though. Bright sides. He had to look at bright sides.
"I thought I heard something at the door. You ready for dinner? Grams and I cooked chicken and veggies. Nothing fancy, but we made a lot of it. I'm guessing you're hungry?"
"Starved."
He released his daughter, stroking a brown bang out of her face and then turned to look back at Kate. His mother had walked into the room from somewhere upstairs and currently had her arm around Kate's shoulders.
"I swear, when my son called and said he was bringing you too, Alexis nearly exploded with excitement."
"Grams!"
"Well, you did."
Alexis turned to Kate, speaking in a tone of voice that was clearly trying to tamp down the embarrassment of being outed by her grandmother. "I'm just glad to be able to see you too. Dad wasn't the only one I worried about."
Kate smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad to see you too, Alexis."
Hoping to give both his girls a break, Castle clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Now what was that about chicken and veggies I was hearing?"
Martha rolled her eyes, but beckoned him into the kitchen, where the scent of dinner was stronger and made his mouth water. They all filled their plates and glasses assembly line style before taking seats around the kitchen table. The first few minutes of the meal were spent with no other noise but the scraping of metal forks against ceramic plates and muted chewing.
After Castle had finished his first round and loaded his plate up with seconds, he cleared his throat and prepared to start some conversation. Now that the gaping hole in his stomach was filled with delicious chicken, he could actually focus on something other than food.
"So how have the past couple of days been without me, sweetie? Everything run smoothly?"
Alexis spoke around her mouthful of chicken, hiding it from view behind her hand. "Everything was fine, Dad. We just watched TV and stuff. I wanna know about what you were up to."
The sounds of clinking silverware diminished as the four people at the table prepared themselves for the start of what would inevitably be an important conversation.
"Right. Well where do you want me to start from?"
Alexis' eyes bored into his, all traces of youth erased and replaced by something far more eager and needy.
"I just want to know how."
"How we found him or—"
"No. How he died, please."
Castle's eyes shifted over to Kate's. She was already staring at him intently, probably wondering exactly how much he would say. He wished he knew what would be best for Alexis' healing process. Tell her everything? Tell her the gist of it? Tell her that she didn't need to know the details, but only that he was gone forever?
"That's actually a bit difficult to explain. The mechanics of it were…complicated to say the least." Looking up and meeting only her unyielding blue eyes, he continued, "He'd lured us onto a boat by taking our waitress hostage then sailed us out to sea. He'd rigged up some sort of a…uh…"
"Trap. So that your father and I couldn't take him down without harming the waitress," Kate filled in.
"Right. A trap. Anyway, the thing malfunctioned and he ended up hanging himself over the side of the boat on accident. That's how he died."
Alexis let her body fall back against her chair, releasing a gusty breath that seemed to have been trapped there for ages.
"And the waitress?"
"Perfectly fine."
"Good. So he didn't hurt anyone else?"
He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He wanted to tell her the truth, he really did. He was always a strong proponent for sharing the hard truths with his daughter. Lies were just never worth it. However, the hope in her eyes that Tyson's second round of terrorism had been entirely victimless physically hurt him to see. He didn't want to contribute to taking away any single speck of her remaining innocence. He didn't want to do it.
He felt Kate's hand slide over his own, cool and calming.
"Actually, Alexis. An FBI agent was also killed in the line of duty. He went with us to help rescue the waitress and bring Tyson in, but Tyson got to him first."
Alexis' eyes were fixed on Kate and Castle could tell she was hanging on every word. While he could see that her shoulders slumped a bit more and the edges of her eyes were red, her chin was up and her jaw was set. She was accepting it. Grieving it, but accepting it.
"Oh."
"Speaking as an officer of the law, he died honorably. An honorable death doesn't make up for the loss of a life, but it's something."
Alexis and Martha nodded in sync and Castle squeezed Kate's hand in thanks. She gave him a close-lipped, sad smile in return.
Martha cleared her throat and set her water glass back on the table, giving them a slight nod. "So you two are official now, then?"
Castle gave a short but light laugh. Of course that's what his mother would pick up on during a conversation about the downfall of a serial killer. That he and Kate were holding hands.
"Yes, mother. We're together."
Kate's sad smile had morphed into something filled completely with amusement and relief.
"Well, I'm glad for the both of you. And for me, come to think of it. I don't have to keep dropping hints. It was getting very tiring, dear. Worked a hell of a number on my wrinkles."
"Ah, well that is the prime reason we decided to get together. To keep your face aesthetically pleasing."
She smacked his arm for his sass before standing up and retreating to the kitchen to refill her water.
"I, for one, wouldn't mind just sitting down and relaxing for the next half century." She walked her water glass into the living room and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, waving it freely in the air, "Anyone for some mindless TV? Rebecca Donnell managed to somehow snag the role of Carmen's estranged mother in And The World Turned and I'm just dying to find out how. It clearly wasn't her acting skill."
Rick saw straight through his mother's grand display of unflappability. Her makeup wasn't quite covering the deep impressions under her eyes and her hands had a bit of a shake to them. She was doing this for them: trying to help them heal in her own way by offering them an alley into normalcy.
"I take it you were up for the role?" he responded, standing from his own chair to join her and hearing Alexis and Kate follow suit.
"Oh, please. That role was far too beneath me. I'm simply astounded that Rebecca managed to get hired on a show with a female director. It's not like she could sleep her way onto the set this time."
Kate snorted a laugh and Alexis gasped out a "Grams!" Suddenly Rick was infinitely grateful that his mother was willing to put on this show of imperturbability for them. They all settled on various portions of furniture before he selected the episode from the DVR list.
Alexis had her feet curled up under her and her head lying on her arms over the back of the couch. She looked uncomfortably twisted, so he pulled at her elbow until she switched to resting her head on his shoulder. Kissing her hair and then her forehead, he wrapped his arm around her before turning his head to look at Kate.
She was sitting almost exactly where he'd woken up to find her that one night weeks ago after he'd shot Kack. That night when the blue light had flooded over her face like a weak fog and the shadows of her eyelashes had seemed to stretch on forever. It seemed like that night had been from another life entirely. So much had changed since then.
If the faraway look on her face was anything to go by, Kate was having similar thoughts. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss into the hollow of his cheek, lingering long enough for him to feel a single exhalation of her breath against his skin. Instead of pulling back to look at him, she simply ducked down and rested her head on his other shoulder, pulling his free hand onto her lap to hold.
He looked up to find his mother's attention far away from Rebecca Donnell and the melodrama on the screen. She had one of those rare and honest smiles just barely gracing her face, like she knew a secret that the rest of the world would never figure out. He smiled back at her and they shared a private moment in the dim lighting of the room.
…
Sometime during the second episode of the show, Kate had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He could feel each deep breath release against the fabric of his shirt, warming him with humid, gentle air. His mother still stood guard, her eyes locked on the TV, but obviously thinking about something a million miles away. Alexis was awake, but she wasn't even pretending to watch the show.
"Hey, kiddo," he whispered, "Want to come look at the skyline with me?"
"It's raining, Dad."
"Not that hard. We'll stay under the overhang so you don't melt or anything."
She gave him that adorable "I only barely tolerate you" smile and then stood in a tacit agreement to his compromise. He maneuvered himself from under Kate's head, letting her lie on the cushion of the back of the couch instead. Unthreading their fingers, he stood to follow Alexis out onto the balcony. The balconies of his building did not hang on the main street-side façade, but were wrapped around the back.
Alexis had left the glass door to the balcony open and was leaning up against the brick of the wall, looking out over the city. The lights of the neighboring buildings sparked in her eyes, which were dark as they took in the rainy night. Maybe it was her new hair, but she seemed far older than 17.
"You know, I love your red hair, but you look beautiful as a brunette too."
"Thanks, Dad."
"Are you going to keep it?"
"I don't know. Maybe for the rest of the summer, but I'll probably go back to red before school starts. The last thing I want is a hundred questions about why I dyed it."
Oh, that bait was way too tempting to leave alone. "Why did you dye it?"
She glanced over at him, before pulling her eyes back to the inanimate life of the New York skyline.
"I don't really know. Didn't want to be blonde. Red just reminded me of how I was…before. Brown was really the only other option unless I wanted something drastic like blue or purple."
"Blue woulda matched your eyes nicely."
"Dad," she rolled her eyes at his stupid joke.
He walked closer to her and pulled her into a hug, trying to channel all of his love into the circuit of his arms around her. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could form a sort of force field of love that would protect her from everything else.
"It's almost Beckett's color. Grams was right."
"I know. I figured if I was going to change how I saw myself in the mirror, I should probably pick a color that reminds me of strength. Resiliance. So I aimed for Kate's color."
Giving her a little extra squeeze, he continued, "Well, I don't give a damn what color your hair is as long as you are happy."
"Thanks."
They stood there wrapped up in each other, listening to the small river of rain funnel off of the roof and splatter to the ground below. He breathed her in. Not the baby smell of her infant years, not the strawberry jam from when she was a kid, not the weekly change of Bath and Body Works scents from middle school, and not even the apricot of her teen years he'd been most recently accustomed to. There was no artificial scent to her tonight. She just smelled like Alexis. Like his daughter. Like home and sunshine and potential energy.
"Are you? Happy?"
"I'll get there."
He let out huge breath and then peppered her soft hair with kisses.
"I hate this."
"I'm not a fan either. But I really am going to be okay, Dad. He can't hurt anybody else and I'm working really hard on healing."
"If you need anyth—"
"I know. You've got my back. You always do."
The depth in the meaning of her words did not escape him. He hadn't failed her. He'd pulled through. He'd saved her. He looked at her face and saw flashes of the young girl of his memories overlaid by flickers of the woman she was fast becoming. It was such a beautiful amalgamation that his heart broke a bit to see it.
…
The warmth beneath Kate's cheek had fled. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in her surroundings and trying to figure out why her cheek was no longer being supplied with a steady stream of heat. She lifted her head from the back of the leather couch, hearing the bones crack against each other in simultaneous protest and relief.
Stretching out her back to crack the bones there too, she turned toward the TV that was still playing the end of the episode they had been watching when she'd fallen asleep. Martha's eyes were still staring at the screen, but Kate could absolutely tell that the woman's peripherals were locked on her.
Kate leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, waiting for the silence between them to inevitably break. Martha looked like she was gathering thoughts and Kate would let her have all the time she needed. After a few more moments, Martha turned to her and mirrored her position from her chair.
"My son loves you."
Kate couldn't keep the smile from plucking at the corner of her lips. She couldn't help it. Rick did love her, and that was something to smile about. Bowing her head down slightly in a nod, she let the smile grow a bit more behind the veil of her hair.
"I know."
Martha nodded and then leaned so far forward in her chair that Kate wasn't sure exactly how much of her was still perched upon it.
"I mean he really loves you."
Kate wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond. She did know that Rick really loved her, didn't she? An affirmation was clearly not what Martha was seeking in this conversation. She settled for one of her favorite interrogation techniques: Shut the hell up and let them do the talking.
"I've known for a while that he cared deeply for you. A mother always knows these things. It was in his eyes when he told stories about you. It was the fact that every story was about you. But I had no idea…"
"Kinda hits you hard doesn't it? Finding out how much?"
Martha threw her head back and laughed, full and unrestrained. "Yes, exactly. It's more than love, though. There's not a word for it, my dear."
Kate drew her eyes downward, avoiding the truth radiating from Martha, but it didn't slow the woman from making her point.
"There's no word in any human language that could possibly hope to contain the meaning of what my son feels for you."
Kate's eyes lifted once again, unable to escape the gravitational pull of the words.
"He…we…Martha, I know that he loves me. I know what I've been given."
"Do you?"
"He's the best gift fate has ever handed me. I'd never throw that away. He means…he means everything to me."
Kate could almost see the relief wash across Martha's face, but the actress was far too in control of her expressions for Kate to be certain.
"He'd do anything for you, Kate. Follow you anywhere. To the ends of the earth. And I guess I need to thank you for following him right back. It's not enough, but you will have my eternal gratitude. I love Alexis and my son with every fiber of my being and I know I have you to thank that they are still here and home safe. So, thank you for going to the ends of the earth for them."
Kate leaned back against the leather of the sofa. This had by far been the most unique "treat my son right" talk she'd ever had. It was actually the only one she'd ever had. Martha had an amazing son and it was every inch within her right to protect him. Rick really did love her. He really was her shadow. He really would follow her anywhere. She softly repeated Martha's words to the darkly flickering air and to herself, a confirmation and an acceptance.
"…To the ends of the earth."
A/N: Alrighty then. It's been a while. Med school kinda got ACTUALLY hard there for a while, so I didn't have much time for writing. Thank you all for being such wonderful and patient readers!
The next and final chapter will probably hit the site later this week. I've already written it all, but only in my head. Don't you wish that counted?
I'd love to hear from you guys again with some reviews of the chapter, previous chapters, or what you might like to see in the next chapter. I've got a pretty solid plan, but there is wiggle room if anyone has awesome ideas. Have I mentioned how awesome you are, lately?
I really missed our interactions.
