Chapter 2

Kate didn't move when Rick came through the door, but her eyes found him instantly and they smiled; he felt it as surely as he'd felt anything in his life. He crossed to the bed and gently touched her foot through the blankets, the second time he'd touched her during those dark hours simply because he wanted to, and it was intoxicating. "How is it, Detective, that you've managed to look better than I do after all of this?" he asked playfully.

She glanced towards the chair next to the bed and he took the suggestion, dropping into it with muffled giddiness as their eyes met steadily for the first time since those horrific moments in the grass. "What else is new?" she quipped, her voice hoarse from the tubes earlier extracted from her throat.

"Oh, now, that's very nice. Just for that, it's the green Jell-O for you tonight, not the red Jell-O. I have some pull with the nurses now, you know. I can make things happen," Rick teased, falling easily back into their comfortable pattern of banter. "In all honesty, though," he went on, a swift and marked shift in his tone, "I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful."

Kate opened her hand and he took it. "Thank you," she rasped.

"Just speaking the truth, Detective. I understand you cop-folk prefer that sort of thing."

She tried to squeeze his hand, but had little strength to bring it to pass; still, he sensed her effort and acknowledged it with gentle pressure of his own. "Thank you," she told him again, "for saving me."

Rick grinned as her eyes fell closed. "Always," he said into the stillness of the room.

xxxx

Jim brought Kate home after a sixteen-day hospital stay, insisting she agree to let him spend nights at her apartment for at least a little while in order to keep an eye on her, while Rick promised he'd be available during the day if she needed or wanted anything at all. There was much work to be done in terms of rehabilitation and strengthening, both physical and emotional and none of it easy, and neither was going to allow her to go through those processes on her own, no matter how much, in expected form, she insisted she could.

Rick unlocked the door to her place on her third afternoon home, his hair and clothes dripping wet from an unexpected late-spring storm and his hands filled with bags from the market down the street. He'd had a copy of her key made that morning so she wouldn't have to be up to let him in and to lock up after him all the time, and his first use of it, despite its entirely practical application, brought him immeasurable pleasure.

"You aren't dripping on my floor, are you?" Kate called out from her position on the couch as Rick pushed the door shut with his behind. "It's pouring out there." She could see the grin on his face as he stepped into the kitchen, and she matched it, his appearance comical in its dishevelment.

"Honey, I'm home," he beamed, setting the groceries on the center island. "And, is it? You know, I hadn't noticed." He shook his head and water droplets flew everywhere.

"Stop enjoying this so much, Castle," she said, reacting to his intimation of their domesticity. "This is all temporary - very temporary." Her voice was sleepy but her words strong. "I'm already so sick of this place, I could scream," she mumbled, intending the words for no one at all.

Rick stopped unpacking the bags and looked up at her, her expression overrun with frustration. "Hey, I know you hate this. I know you hate being away from the precinct and being taken care of, but, Beckett, your body just came through an unimaginable ordeal and it's going to need some time." He hated it for her, too, he did, but he also couldn't deny how good it made him feel to be there for her in that way.

"Thanks for the news flash, Castle," she hissed, tossing her book onto the coffee table - recommended reading from one of her nurses about processing traumatic events and their resulting injuries. "I was there."

It wasn't the first time she'd snapped at him, but he'd been prepared for that part of it and he understood it wasn't her talking. "So, I got a bunch of good stuff at the market," he told her, steering the moment as best he could with the tools at hand, "and you'll be happy to hear I put down the cookies before I got to the checkout and tossed a couple of extra grapefruits into my basket instead." She met his eye with furrowed brow and he knew he had her. He swiftly pulled the secret package from one of the bags and headed towards her, terribly pleased with himself for providing a moment of fun.

"Never joke about oatmeal cookies, Castle," she said, accepting the gift from his outstretched hand. "They're serious business."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, once again feeling his Kate looking back at him after a moment away.

"It's 'Yes, Detective,' got it?" she corrected whimsically, tearing into the package.

xxxx

It'd been over a month since the shooting, and they hadn't talked about that day at any length yet, not with each other at least, and Rick honestly wasn't sure if they ever would. Kate had her therapist, someone to turn to - by choice or not - but absent a nudge, she'd never really been one to open up and share, and despite his profound desire to know where the future of their relationship stood, his concern over pushing her too far, too fast had thus far won out.

Jim had stopped spending nights on her couch, a decision more hers than his, and that night Rick brought over some movies for them to watch; sometimes Kate appreciated company more than conversation, and the compromise was usually served well by a couple of old films and a shared bowl of popcorn. She'd grown more accustomed to him spending so much time in her space, not that she'd said so, but like their time together at the precinct, he'd felt something of an ease settle in.

"You seem quieter than usual tonight," he said, Kate seated close on the couch. "You feeling okay? Can I get you anything?" She didn't offer a response, but he waited and watched, the animated light from the television granting him the ability to see her face. "Well, I think I'm going to go get us some more popcorn," he continued, moving to stand.

Kate reached out and grabbed his hand, catching him entirely off guard. "Can we go somewhere, Castle?" she said, closing her fingers around his.

He could see it in her eyes; they were practically begging for his acquiescence. "Is it…is something wrong?" he asked with audible concern.

"Nothing's wrong, Castle, I just want to take you somewhere, okay."

He glanced down at his watch, not that he could see much. "Should you even be-"

"I don't care, Castle, please," she interrupted. She hadn't let go of his hand, clinging to it even tighter as she awaited his response.

Rick tugged gently on her hand to help her up. "We can go, of course. I'll take you wherever you want to go, Kate."

She nodded thankfully and disappeared into the bedroom. He had no idea what to think or if he should be worried or if he should've agreed at all; he could only sense that whatever it was that was going on inside of her was more important than any of those things.

Kate appeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and carrying an empty canvas bag. It was the first time he'd seen her in weeks that he actually forgot she'd been shot. It was as though she'd been suddenly energized and the force of it was radiating off of her. "I just need one more second," she said, heading for the small closet in the hallway and filling the bag with whatever it was she'd found there of use. "Castle, can you come carry this?"

"I can," he said, clicking off the television. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Just let me show you, okay?" She headed for the door and he followed, as he always did.

xxxx

Rick pulled the car over and parked along the stone wall at Kate's direction. His was one of only a couple of cars along that stretch of sidewalk, and Kate reached into the small pocket of her t-shirt and pulled out her badge, setting it up in the front windshield in case a patrol came by and wondered what the car was doing there. "I like your style, Detective," he said, pressing the button for her seat belt before freeing himself from his own. "Maybe I should get one of those. Think the NYPD would go for it?"

"I think there aren't enough forms for you to sign to convince them to give you one of those, Castle, but I guess that's what dreams are for, right?"

"Yeah, I'll add that to my list right under having my own monkey, thanks," he replied, tossing the sarcasm back her way. "One more of those jabs and I might not help you out of the car."

"Door, Castle," she grunted in a voice he knew well.

"Right," he said, quickly climbing from the driver's side and appearing at her door, her smile swallowed before he was able to appreciate it. "Be careful," he cautioned, ever cognizant of her healing body, as he offered his hand.

"I'm tired of being careful," Kate said, almost in a whisper. "Grab the bag and let's go."

Just a few feet away stood tall gates made of decorative iron, their beauty masked but not entirely obscured by the dark of night. Insects fluttered against the bulb of the single street lamp nearby, and they could hear their concentration of wings against the quiet spring air.

"Kate, is this-?"

"Come on, Castle," she said, moving down the sidewalk as quickly as her body would comfortably allow. She was eager, excited, more so than he'd seen in a long time, and he walked proudly along with her without hesitation. When they finally came to a break in the wall, she stopped. "Here, we're going in here. There are flashlights in the bag."

Rick pulled out one for each of them and stepped inside behind her. He wanted to ask so many things, but he was there for her and he wanted whatever this was to be on her terms, so he took her lead and remained silent. The air around them smelled of freshly cut grass and night-blooming jasmine, and it was peppered with the sounds of nature in all its nocturnal glory.

"How are you doing? Do you need to stop and take a break?" he whispered, not sure why but sensing it appropriate, somehow. He couldn't believe how she was moving. It quite astounded him, really.

"It's just over here. We're almost there," she answered but not answered, making the final push up a notable incline along the path and coming to a stop in a place she clearly knew well. "Castle," she said, out of breath yet not at all hindered by it, "I want you to meet my mom."