Go Out Fighting 3: Never

The growling of his stomach woke him. He lifted his head, body shifting as he did, and she moved under him, letting out a soft sigh. Then she laughed, ran her hand up his back.

He was - uh - he was lying on top of her. "Sorry," he got out.

Kate squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay. I fell asleep. But it sounds like you're starving. I am too."

He nodded and shifted back slowly; she turned as if following him, her chin nestling into the crook of his elbow. Castle stroked her face, caught by the look in her eyes, his chest tight.

"Let's go eat," she said softly, and pushed on his shoulder.

He watched her get off the couch, moving slowly and carefully, then followed her up. She tilted her neck side to side and put her hand at her chest, wincing. He knew it got stiff when she slept, but he hoped he hadn't made it worse, falling asleep on top of her.

Kate saw his face and shook her head, reached out and took his hand. "Come on. It's already five."

He grunted and glanced to the clock to confirm that. He hadn't gotten very far on those phone logs. But he'd had that bright idea; he should tell her, run it by her for approval.

She stopped to slide her sandals on. He stuck his feet in flipflops and opened the door for her, his hand at her back to guide her out.

"Gotta talk to me, Castle."

He sighed. Yeah. He had things to say - when didn't he? - but his jaw was still tight, tense with pain. If he didn't move it, the pain abated.

Late afternoon sun painted the trees and flowers in a golden edge as they walked the path to the cafeteria. Kate lifted her hand and waved to Parker; the bodyguard nodded but kept his eyes roving. Castle was seriously happy with the level of professionalism these guys had showed, day in and day out, for the last five weeks.

"Castle. Talk."

"'Kay." He grunted with the crack of his jaw and stretched his mouth in increments to loosen it up. He felt her hand in his again, squeezing, and appreciated the encouragement. "Had an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Printouts. Hire someone to reverse - reverse look-up. All the numbers."

"Oh," she said softly. "I - that could be a good idea."

"Yeah." He felt her unsteady beside him and released her hand to take her by the elbow. He'd learned that trying to put an arm around her waist only made it worse, but this actually gave her some support.

"You know, you never did tell me a dirty story in the pool this morning."

He laughed, cut his eyes to her and saw that smug look on her face. "Huh."

"Kinda disappointed."

"Dirty story just sounds dirty. Like this." He felt that crooked grin lifting his face as she shook her head at him.

"Have to admit you might be right. Pained and halting isn't that sexy, Castle."

He lifted an eyebrow. Sexy? Dirty story wasn't the same as sexy. Even like this, oh, just give him a chance, and he'd show her sexy.

She laughed back at him. "That wasn't a challenge, Castle."

He smirked, shrugged.

"Actually, no. That was a challenge. Anything to make you use that jaw."

Heat flared in his chest and he looked at her, eyes wide and not at all innocent as images came to mind. All the ways he could use his jaw, his mouth on her.

But she didn't look all that shocked, in fact, she might have meant that.

"Don't tease," he said finally.

"Who's teasing?" Her hand drifted up, her fingers catching his tshirt and twisting, hanging on. He wasn't sure if that was to keep her balance as they walked down the path, or if she was actually trying to . . . tease him.

"Now who's talking dirty?" he husked, feeling his jaw muscles clench.

"This isn't dirty, Castle. I have yet to hear anything at all that would qualify. Just a lot of . . . innuendo. Think you can be more explicit?"

"Out here with Parker watching?" He felt the shiver of his jawbone, the rippling of muscle and tendon stretching farther than he meant them to, and realized she was doing this on purpose. She was getting him to talk. She was a master interrogator. "Damn."

Kate laughed and her fingers smoothed his shirt, brushed across his ribs. "Yeah, I got you, didn't I?"

He would stay silent in protest, but her laughter, the light in her eyes, was too good to resist. "Yeah. You did."

Kate and Castle separated at the cafeteria, each heading for a different line, different foods. She got stir fry again, loaded with vegetables, picked up two milkshakes, put them on her tray because he always forgot. The woman behind the counter added the protein powder and vitamin supplements without Kate even having to ask.

The place was crowded at five; they usually came earlier, around four or so, because healing and physical therapy sessions had turned them both into little old men. At four, they were mostly alone. Now she had to carefully wade through the crowds of people there for drug treatment, alcohol abuse. It was a dance and it already made her ache, her muscles tense just trying to keep her balance.

When she sat at their usual table, Castle was already there, mashed potatoes and pudding this time. No jello. No soup either. She frowned at him.

"No soup?"

He shrugged, but his eyes lit up when she set the milkshake in front of him. The gratitude sparked, and she nodded back, even though she'd promised herself she would make him speak from now on, not let him get away with that wordless communication.

Wordless communication which they did so well. So well that sometimes she felt like she wanted the unspoken more than the words, or maybe just that the silent touches made her more comfortable, the touches and the look in his eyes that told her all she needed to know.

Castle had yet to say it out loud, like he sensed that about her, like he knew.

She wasn't sure if she liked that. Wasn't sure if it was sweet of him to wait until she wasn't wretchedly exhausted every waking hour, or if it was frustrating to not hear Richard Castle, the man who never shut up, be silent on something as big and life-altering as this.

"No soup?" she asked again, unloading her tray.

He sighed. "It was lobster. Bisque." He shuddered and held his nose.

She presed her mouth flat, but she knew the smile was showing. "Smells bad?"

He nodded.

"What about apple sauce?"

He shook his head.

"Did you look for it on the salad bar, because sometimes-"

"Kate," he growled.

She shut up, but she wouldn't apologize. "Drink what you got then." She'd take a couple milkshakes back with them in to-go cups, since his caloric intake was so limited today. Small chunks of bear claw, pudding, and mashed potatoes weren't going to get rid of the skeletal look to his face. She'd never seen his jaw so prominent, his cheekbones standing so stark.

She didn't want him going home to Alexis and Martha like this.

As she ate, reminding herself she had to keep her strength up as well, Kate watched him struggle through his dinner. His mouth opened only a fraction of an inch, his tongue touched the spoon. He did a lot of slurping; she was surprised to realize she barely heard it anymore. She'd gotten so used to this laborious process he undertook just to finish a meal.

"Stop," he said.

She raised an eyebrow but didn't stop. Wouldn't. Because she couldn't tell him how much, how deeply it scared her to know that he was wasting away before her very eyes. Thirty pounds last week at the doctor's was probably forty now, the rate he was going. They had a medical infirmary here at the center, and they could probably give him saline IV if he got dehydrated, but anything more than that-

"Beckett."

She turned her eyes back to her plate and knocked a few pieces of broccoli to one side, smearing them in honey sauce.

Honey. If she could put honey on stuff - even the mashed potatoes - that would be some simple sugars, like the apple sauce. Fairly healthy, in the grand scheme of things, and good calories.

"Castle," she said and reached over the table with her fork, scooped up mashed potatoes, then smeared it around in the honey. "Try this."

When she glanced back up and handed the bite over to him, he was staring at her incredulously.

She glanced at the mashed potatoes now dripping in honey sauce. "What? You like to eat creatively. Try it."

Castle was still staring; he'd be speechless if he didn't already spend most of the day that way.

"Come on," she said, growing irritated with him, pushing the fork in his direction. "Open up."

He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you - feeding me - like a baby?"

Her mouth dropped open; she withdrew her fork, let it clatter back to her plate.

"You are," he hissed.

At the look on his face - something like betrayal, her heart began to pound. "I - it would be - there's . . ." But she didn't know how to defend herself.

Castle leaned forward and for a moment, she thought it was over, he was going to try the honey-drizzled mashed potatoes, but instead he pushed his chair back and stood up.

Then walked away.

And out of the dining room.

He was furious. That slow-burning anger he got when it came to her - partially ashamed at himself and thoroughly fed up with her at the same time.

So he walked.

She was treating him like an idiot. More than that, like a child. He could feed himself, for goodness sake. He wasn't going to die of starvation. She watched him all the time, and it wasn't even in a sexy I want you way; it was more of that guilt, more of the burden she carried.

He didn't want to be another burden for her, another person to champion, to feel responsible for. He wanted it to go back to how it was - equal, partners, watching each other's backs.

Castle stumbled to a stop on the path when he saw Parker in the distance. If Castle was here, then Parker or somene would have to follow. And who would have Kate?

Shit. This wasn't having each other's backs, was it?

He rubbed a hand down his face and turned around, headed for the dining hall. He was so limited by not having the ability to just talk it out, speak his mind, that he was using Beckett's own coping mechanisms. Wow. They were really rubbing off on each other. She was hovering and he was running.

He made it back to the cafeteria, opened the door, yanking it out of the hand of the person coming out - Kate.

His heart eased.

"Sorry," he started, his voice cracked and peeling, but she was already wrapping both arms around his neck and bringing her body flush to his. He embraced her back, trying to be careful of her still-healing wound, and buried his face in her neck.

"Don't do that," she muttered. "Don't do that to me."

"Sorry," he said again, kissed the soft skin of her neck where it met her shoulder.

She clutched him tighter, but he could feel her wince, curl in. He'd stretched her too far; she was on her toes, so he leaned in, hunching over her, and let her put her feet back on the ground.

"I'm sorry, too," she murmured, so softly he barely heard it.

He'd have said something to stop her apologies - he didn't need them, but he found he couldn't get his jaw to work.

"Sorry to make you feel like that, I just - I don't know what to do, Castle. I don't know how to help. I can barely stay upright sometimes and-"

He grunted and pressed his mouth over hers, feeling pain frisson through his jaw but not even caring. Still, she sighed against him, breaking their kiss, and ran a thumb along his lips, back and forth, so strange and erotic because he couldn't feel all of her touch.

Her mouth was gentle and brushed against him once more, then she pulled back, her thumb trailing so softly along his once-broken jaw. He sighed and captured her hand, squeezed.

"No more - feeding me," he said, then paused, tilted his head to think about that. "Or. Wait."

She laughed at that, biting her bottom lip. "Oh no. Too late. Feeding you is off the table."

He groaned and hung his head. Stupid move. "Ohh, what about-"

"Nope." She shook her head, then untangled her fingers from his to run her hand down his chest, snag the waistband of his shorts. "Too bad. I had such-" her voice dropped, "-plans for you."

Oh damn. Oh. Kate. And her hand was still there, just at his waist, fingers tucked in, and he seriously couldn't think. All gone. Adios.

She tugged, pulling him in close, and he realized there were two people trying to move past them in the little lobby of the cafeteria, get to the door. He stumbled into her, trying to keep from falling all over her in his clumsy arousal, caught her around her lower back before he could knock her into the wall.

The two residents were out the door, but he still had her. She was flat-footed but leaning back against his arm, her hand in his waistband, fingers curling, eyes dangerously sexy. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen that look leveled on him before.

"How much does your jaw hurt, Castle?" she murmured.

"Probably as much as this," he said roughly and stroked the back of his hand lightly down her sternum, over her stomach.

She sighed, leaned her forehead against his chest. "Yeah. Too bad."

"Soon, though," he said and slid his palm up her spine to the back of her neck, held her close. "Soon."