Chapter 12

With the appropriate cleaning brush in hand, Castle popped on his sunglasses and headed out the back door towards the grill, which had been woefully ignored since their July 4th celebration a few days prior. He'd been negligent on his cleaning duties due to a variety of reasons, not least of which being on the actual day of he'd gotten a little bit drunker than he'd intended. Thankfully, that just resulted in him passing out on the couch at seven and being effectively worthless for the rest of the evening. Fireworks woke him up around ten, but who wanted to clean the grill in the dark?

In the day's since, he had been struggling if he was being entirely honest. When the stay-at-home order started in early May, not one of them could have predicted that it would last to the mid-summer holiday or beyond. Yet, there they were, with the orders extended through Labor Day, hospitals filled with dying patients, and many more suffering due to financial or social hardships.

Rationally Castle knew that he was extremely fortunate compared to most. He had a home that not only allowed him distance from the worst concentration of the virus but was large enough to keep his family and friends safe as well. Plus, they could be outside on the deck or in the yard without fear of contracting anything, whereas back in Manhattan they would have been entirely confined to the apartment. Despite this, as the Independence Day milestone passed, he felt sadness and disappointment creeping in.

He'd had so many plans for that summer, including going on a little road trip with Alexis up to Maine and perhaps taking a week-long trip to somewhere else beachy and interesting. Typically, in July he took a break from whatever book planning he was doing and spent the month doing research on a new subject that interested him knowing he might or might not use it in a book, but he liked the opportunity to further his knowledge. That was still possible for him to do, of course, but he felt weight down by the monotony of the same day-to-day routine. He was just bored of it. He wanted to do something that wasn't cooking a meal or sitting in his own back yard even if he knew that was terrible because so many of his friends in Manhattan didn't have a back yard to sit in.

Though he'd yet to find something that successfully pulled him out of his funk, he knew without question that the one bright spot of his situation was Kate. No matter how bored he felt of the four walls in his office, catching a glimpse of her smile made his heart feel like he was soaring high above the waves and sand. It always had, but now even more so. They were living together, a notion that sometimes he even struggled to believe. True, it wasn't in the romantic sense, but even in his wildest fantasies he could not have imaged them cohabitating the way that they currently are. (Granted, his wildest fantasies didn't really involve global pandemics—or Kate taking a bullet to the chest.)

Now that her shooting was two months behind them, he could see small improvements in her every day, from the way she walked to the number of smiles she gave him. He also figured that the therapy she was doing with her NYPD shrink aided in all of that. He was genuinely proud of her for everything she had accomplished in both her physical and mental recovery and grateful for the pandemic situation for affording him the opportunity to experience both those things with her. Though he felt guilty being happy about any part of an even that left tens of thousands dead across the globe, it was literally the only scenario in which he and Kate would have been able to spend as much time together as they had.

As Castle scrubbed the grill, he thought about what activity he might partake in that might be interesting enough to pull him out of his funk. He wasn't much into crafts and had never really picked up on the sewing skills his mother tried to force on him during his youth. He had plenty of electronic toys like cars and flying helicopters, but none of them sounded interesting. He thought perhaps he could order more jigsaw puzzles as their quartet had already gone through the ones they kept stored at the beach house, but he'd also heard they were sold out most places.

He was still contemplating ideas when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw Kate approaching from the dune wearing an army green tank top and denim shorts, carrying one of their disposable masks in her hand. The wind whipped at her hair, blowing it back into her face and she used her free hand to brush some of it out of her eyes. Without being able to go to a salon safely, her hair grew wild and long with the sea air causing it to curl beautifully. God, no matter how many times he saw her he was always captivated, and he hoped that never changed.

He turned back to his scrubbing for a moment, but then caught sight of his watch and realized it was nearly lunchtime. He thought back for a moment about when he'd last seen Kate and immediately felt concerned. How long had she been walking on that beach? Yes, her stamina was steadily improving, but that didn't mean he was not still worried about her recovery.

"Hey," he called out as she ascended the stairs to the deck. "Are you just getting back now? How long were you gone?"

Flipping her hair out of her face once more, she gave him an irritated look. "Not that long Dad. Hey, did you go taller while I was out?"

He twisted his lips to the side, mirroring her expression. "I was just asking a question, Katie," he threw back at her.

She laughed. "I was gone, I don't know, about an hour, but I wasn't walking that whole time—I was sitting by the water. See," she said pointed as she spun around and showed him the rear side of her shorts and legs, both of which were coated in sand.

"Okay, okay," he sighed. Though he still worried what her ratio of walking to sitting was during that time, he decided to drop the subject.

As he finished cleaning, she walked over to use the hose on the deck and rinsed off the backs of her legs. Then she spent several minutes smacking at the back of her shorts to get the sand off before sitting in a chair near the grill.

"So, what will you be grilling today?"

"Oh…nothing. I just didn't want to put off cleaning this any longer," he explained. "I actually have a pork loin marinating in the fridge; figured that would be dinner."

She hummed. "You know, I am equal parts jealous of and impressed by your cooking skills."

He laughed. "Well…it's taking me decades to acquire my skills—literally. I started in my early teens out of necessity. One can only suffer through so much food poisoning without finding a better way. Or, in my case, also being mildly paranoid Mother was actually trying to kill me."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," she said. He gave her a look and she laughed. "Okay, maybe it was."

"You're right though—I do enjoy it. I find it, relaxing, oddly enough. Though…admittedly I haven't done quite this much of it…ever." He finished with a laugh.

"Well, maybe someday you can teach me some of your skills," she said casually. Then, she walked back inside leaving him on the deck, watching her go, and sending out a silent wish to the universe that one day that would actually happen.

As she turned the page to the next chapter in her book, Kate grabbed the bookmark that was sitting in her lap, stuck it in, and then shut the book. She'd been waiting until the end of that chapter to take a break and use the bathroom, but it had been surprisingly long and now she really needed to get up. Without much thought she uncrossed her legs, planted her feet on the floor and moved to stand but immediately groaned and flopped back down. Good lord, why were her legs exceptionally painful?

For a moment, she began to panic, wondering if the searing pain in her calves was some bizarre, delayed side-effect from the heart medication she hadn't been on for six weeks. She wiggled her fingers and toes searching for other symptoms when the real reason for her pain dawned on her: her near hour-long walk on the beach across uneven sand. She'd felt some burning in her calves as she walked, which was why she'd sat and taken a several minute break to watch the waves, but then felt mostly fine on her way back to the house so she hadn't thought much of it again. Now it appeared the muscle soreness was setting in.

Kate grumbled to herself as she tried to stand again. She knew she'd pushed it a little hard on her walk that morning, walking nearly double the amount of time she had been doing. It had just been such a beautiful day and she felt good with regards to her cardiovascular stamina. She was never short of breath or felt the need to rest due to exhaustion, just because of a little tightness in her legs, which made sense. As a New Yorker she was used to walking several miles a day just to complete her regular routine. Since she had been shot she'd hardly walked a fraction of that, so naturally her legs weren't used to the exertion. She thought maybe they'd be a little sore, but this was ridiculous—she could barely walk!

She managed to hobble her way to the bathroom, each step more painful than the last. She stared down at her legs as though she might find a magic button to take the pain away. Sadly, none existed, so while she washed her hands she thought about her plan of action. Ibuprofen was obviously step one, but then what? Perhaps some stretching might help loosen the muscles up. Either that or she'd just curl up in bed and hope that the rest would make them feel better in the morning.

Exiting the bathroom, Kate began the slow trek into the foyer so she could get the pain meds out of her room, but the mere sight of the stairs made her breakout into a cold sweat. God, if flat ground was this difficult, how was she going to go up. She was contemplating going back to the method of going up the stairs while seated that she was forced to use during the early days of her recovery when she heard the most unfortunate sound.

"Kate? Wha…what are you doing?"

Castle, who had evidently been in his office, came into the hall and spotted her mid-hobble.

She spun around, trying her best not to wince, and said, "Oh, I'm fine. Just a little sore."

He arched one brow. "A little sore?"

She shifted her feet and winced at the sharp pain in her leg. "I, um, may have overdone it walking a bit. Turns out walking across sand is a lot harder on your calves than walking in the driveway," she added with a light laugh.

"No kidding," he quipped. Then, concern crossing his face, he said, "Do you want me to help you upstairs?"

"No, no I'll be fine. I, just, um, was going to take some pain meds and then…sit somewhere and not move for awhile." She forced a laugh while dusting her hands across her brow, feeling embarrassed for her predicament and also recognizing that it was a little bit ridiculous.

"I can massage your legs if you'd like?"

"Ah, no," she began, feeling her face and neck flush, "That's…that's weird, right?"

"Not if you leave your clothes on," he said then immediately cringed. "Wow, sorry, that was supposed to sound more jokey than creepy."

She couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. "Well, um, thanks for the offer, but it's fine. I'll just—ah!" She let out a little yelp when she took another step and felt her calf completely seize up.

"Suffer unnecessarily?"

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. She wasn't even sure if a massage would be helpful or more painful at that point. Besides, Castle rubbing her legs seemed quite intimate and they weren't intimate…were they? Well, no, not in the traditional sense because they didn't have sex or even kiss, but they certainly had some level of closeness. They were friends—trying to get back to the best friends place they were in before things had fallen apart. Did best friends massage each other's legs? She thought about that possibility with Lanie and decided it would be weird. Then, after two more steps of agony she began to reconsider.

Almost say if he'd heard her thoughts, Castle sighed out, "Beckett."

Turning, caused her to wince again and she said, "Well, um, maybe just a few minutes?"

He smiled and said, "Go take your pain meds; I'll be up soon."

"Oh, don't rush; it'll take me awhile to get up these stairs," she quipped.

Kate's first step on the stair told her it was going to be a difficult journey. She tried her best to pull herself up with her right arm on the banister rather than pushing up with her feet, but she knew that wasn't good because she was still supposed to use only limited resistance on her upper body, even on her "good" side. She then had the idea to go up the stairs sideways, which would allow her to lift her leg more with her hip and keep her foot flat. While that still didn't feel great, it was an improvement. It was also a slow process, so Castle caught up to her just as she was finishing her ascent.

"Don't laugh at me," she grumbled upon sight of the smile he was clearly trying to hide.

"I'm not laughing."

"Yeah, but you want to." She sighed once she reached the second floor and began the agonizing trek to her bedroom. "I'm so out of shape, Castle."

"You've been recovering from a serious injury," he reminded her.

"I know, but…" She huffed out a breath at the lingering frustration she felt. She knew all things considered she was doing well. She was able to walk, dress, and bathe by herself. With each passing day she felt less tired and weary. She'd been cleared to use up to five pounds of weight in each hand and had incorporated that into her physical therapy workouts, which made her feel stronger. Both her doctors and therapists continually told her how pleased they were with her progress and right from the start her cardiologist had warned that it could take six months or more for her to be back to the place she was before the shooting. While she understood she was moving in a good direction, she did feel a bit frustrated that she couldn't simply go for a walk on the beach without deeply regretting it.

"I know it's frustrating, Kate, but you've been doing so well. We're all so proud of you. You'll get back to where you were—it'll just take a little more time."

She smiled at him, appreciative of his words, and then walked over to the nightstand where she kept the bottle of ibuprofen. She took two pills and then looked at Castle expectantly. As the massage had been his idea, she figured he was the one who would dictate how to execute it.

"Why don't you go ahead and lay down—however you're comfortable," he suggested.

Kate knelt down on the bed and grabbed one of her pillows. She lay on her right side with the pillow against her chest and her left arm draped over it. It was a bit of a strange position for sleeping, but she had adapted to it as it made her left side feel more comfortable. She did generally sleep mostly on her back, but she knew that wouldn't be as easy for him to access her calves for a massage.

"I can use this lotion over here, right?" he asked. She lifted her head and saw he stood in front of the chest of drawers where there was a bottle of lotion Lanie had sent in her "get well soon" package shortly after she left the hospital.

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Great."

She felt the end of the bed sink slightly with his weight and then a moment later his hands were on her left calf. Her gut reaction was to yelp in pain.

"Woah sorry—too much pressure?"

"A bit," she whimpered. "They're just very tight."

"I'll go slow then." He returned his hands to her legs, that time starting around her ankle and very, very softly making his way up towards her knee. She still felt a little bit of discomfort, but it was tolerable, and she hoped his actions would help loosen up her legs, so she didn't say anything.

As his hands worked, the citrusy scent of the lotion hit her nostrils and she thought about Lanie and what she might say about Castle's massage. She imagined it might be along the lines of, "It's about damn time." Imagining Lanie's sassy tone while she said those words made Kate smile.

Unfortunately, due to the horrors of the pandemic, the morgue and thus her good friend was as busy as ever. Due to Lanie working extra hours and the physical and emotional exhaustion that came along with it, the two friends had not had many opportunities to catch up over the prior few weeks. They would send a few texts back and forth every few days, with Lanie checking in to make sure her recovery was going well, but that was the best that they could do. Kate hadn't even been able to get Lanie's full reaction to the fact that she was effectively living with Castle, which disappointed her because she knew it would be amusing. All Lanie had said on the subject was that she was so glad Kate was able to leave the city in her vulnerable state.

"Is this pressure okay?" Castle asked softly as he moved from her left leg to her right.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed.

As Castle's fingers tried to work the kinks out of her other calf, Kate's thoughts once again drifted to Lanie and how horrifying her job was at that moment. She thought about what her life would have been like if she had been back in the city—if Castle hadn't offered to take her out to the Hamptons or if simply if he hadn't another place to go other than his apartment. She would have had to go to her father's place since it had two bedrooms and there was no way she would have been able to be alone those first few weeks out of the hospital. Presumably, he would have had to leave to pick up food and other supplies and it would have been terrifying each time. She imagined they both would have been constantly worried about catching the virus and probably very frustrated with each other since they were effectively living on top of each other.

Thinking of that potential scenario and the surrounding anxiety and unpleasantness it would have brough, Kate felt an overwhelming gratitude for Castle and his family for allowing her and her father to stay with them. It was entirely possible they had saved her life by doing so. At the very least, they saved her from more suffering and unpleasantness, for which she would always be grateful.

As these thoughts filtered through her mind, Castle moved his massaging from her calf area to her foot. When his thumbs pressed against a sore spot near her arch she didn't even know existed, she let out an involuntary moan. When the sound she made hit her ears her eyes popped open for it had sounded a little more "sexual" than "relaxed." Since Castle's fingers had stopped moving, she figured he had interrupted it similarly, so she lifted her head to look at him. When their gazes met, both burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," Kate said immediately.

"No, no it's fine—I'll take it as a compliment."

"You should."

He hummed and continued to rub her feet.

"Thanks for doing this Castle. It actually feels really good."

"You doubted my skills?"

She shook her head. "Not at all—I meant from my end. I…don't always like massages. Rather, I don't always find them to be relaxing, but this is nice." Though she never would have spoken the real reason aloud, she did acknowledge it to herself. Part of the reason she struggled to relax during a massage was the element of trust, which she typically did not have with a complete stranger. With Castle, however, her trust and faith in him was unwavering, so it made sense she could fully relax with his hands massaging her body.

"Then maybe you should close your eyes and keep relaxing," he said pointedly.

She gave a smile then did as he asked. "Okay…for a little bit…," she said, but within just another few minutes she had fallen to sleep.

A/N - thank you to everyone for all your kind reviews; i really appreciate it!