In From The Cold

Chapter 6
Questions and Confessions

Castle returned from the bathroom to discover Kate Beckett right where he had left her, which really didn't surprise him. He hadn't really thought she'd go anywhere. There was still too much to discuss, least of all the elephant in the room that had yet to be brought up. She loved him. And the way she had told him, let him know that she had heard his confession. His heart swelled with joy over the news, but his mind shoved it back down, needing control until he learned the full story. Castle wasn't going to let his heart dominate his actions like it had in the past.

Beckett was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped up in her fluffy bathrobe. Her head was bowed, her blonde hair concealing her face from his wandering gaze. Her hands were in her lap, her fingers nervously twining together as she waited. Castle could practically see the tension radiating off her. It brought him a modicum of comfort to know she was just as anxious as he was.

Deciding to end her misery, Castle cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Beckett's head jerked up and she looked at him with what he could only describe as hopeful eyes. He returned her gaze, staring back, long and hard.

"I have some questions," he finally spoke, his voice a little rough.

"Of course," she bobbed her head, easily acquiescing to his request. "Ask away."

"First, how long have you been back?"

"In New York?"

He nodded.

"Two days," she answered, having the decency to lower her eyes. "Yesterday I was with my Dad. Thanks, by the way, for looking after him, making sure he didn't fall back into drinking. That would have been devastating."

Castle inclined his head in acknowledgement. Truthfully, it had been a team effort. Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie had also looked in on the grieving father. More so the latter than the former duo. Hell, even Josh had stopped by for a couple of months after the closed casket funeral. Now knowing the truth, Castle wondered what had been in that coffin they buried. For his part, spending time with Jim Beckett helped Castle greatly. However, he hadn't visited Jim as often over the last year as he had during those first two years after Beckett's apparent death. The two of them shared a lot during that time. Castle had confessed his feelings for Kate to the elder Beckett. Jim revealed that he'd already known, having suspected as much since their first meeting. And despite the fact she'd been dating another man at the time, Jim Beckett insisted his daughter had felt the same.

"How'd he take it, your sudden… resurrection?" Castle asked, an eyebrow quirking up, curious of the answer.

"Better than I'd hoped, actually," Beckett admitted, playing with her hands in her lap. "He had aged more than I had expected. But still looked in good health. We spent most of the time talking. He wasn't angry. I had thought he'd be mad. Actually, it would have been better if he'd shouted or something like that, but he didn't. He just sat there quietly, listening to me." She sighed. "It was hard. But in the end, I think we managed to make peace with what had happened, much like we had when after he returned from rehab. It'll take some time, but I think we'll move past it. I had to promise to pay for all the soda and hotdogs whenever we go to a ballgame. Lifetime rule, he stipulated." She looked up at him with a half-hearted grin. "I got off way too easy."

"You're his daughter," Castle stated factually. "Believe me, if I'd been in your father's place, I'd probably do the same."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said, inclining her head. "How's Alexis?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she held up a hand in apology.

"Sorry, I know, I have no right to ask," she said, glancing down dejectedly, like she'd lost the most important privilege in the world.

Following a long silence, Castle let out a sigh, moving towards the bed, and, after some hesitation, sat down, closer to her than he'd originally intended. He could tell by her expression that she was surprised. He was himself.

"She's good," he offered. "Though far too serious, for my liking. She's in college now, working hard on her studies." He smiled as he thought of his beloved daughter. "She's doing far better than her old man did, that's for sure. I really wasn't the studious kind."

Beckett let out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, Castle, I'd never guess that."

He glanced at her, his expression an odd combination of puzzled and indignant.

"Sorry," she said, crestfallen. Back before all this, Castle would have taken such jesting from her with glee, having a quick and witty comeback. But not today. Times were different. "Um… what college is she attending, if I may ask?"

"Columbia," Castle replied, puffing his chest out, always the proud father. "She had thought of going to Stanford, but after…" he left the rest unsaid. "Well, suffice it to say, she decided to stay closer to home." He lapsed into silence then, just sitting there, with Beckett beside him. The anxious energy was radiating off her. It was infectious. He was just as edgy.

This was all so surreal.

"I can understand her wanting to do that," Beckett said softly, breaking the silence, speaking from experience. "Even though we drifted apart before he sobered up, I still needed to be close to my dad." She shifted on the bed and glanced up at Castle with large, expressive eyes. "After I saw him, I knew the next person I wanted to see was you."

Castle didn't even bother to hide his surprise at that comment. He felt for sure Beckett would have wanted to see her team again, especially Lanie, at the very least visit the precinct, which had been her figurative home for the majority of her adult life.

"Me?" he questioned, dubious.

"Yes, you," Beckett said, feeling bold and scooting closer to him on the bed. He was so amazed at her statement that he didn't even notice her close proximity until he felt her hand upon his. "And you know why, Castle. I know you heard me."

His jaw dropped, but she shushed him.

"You don't have to say anything right now," she assured. "But if you believe anything I've said tonight, then believe that. I love you. I did back then, and I still do now."

Castle swallowed as he stared down at their hands. He watched, a passenger in his own life, as Beckett tentatively intertwined their fingers until their palms were kissing. Inside he was still conflicted, his mind and heart waging a battle for dominance. He let out a sigh of submission, surrendering to the stirrings of his heart, and squeezed her hand. Despite the conflicting feelings flowing through his mind, Castle couldn't help but allow himself to take some pleasure in the contact. His hand engulfed her smaller one, and he closed his eyes, head still bowed, as he concentrated on his tactile senses to experience the warmth radiating off her, proof that she was very much alive. He shifted his fingers, feeling her pulse, amazed at the rhythm.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she apologized again, voice hollow and insecure. "I know that must sound empty, but it's the truth." She held his hand tightly, bringing it up to clutch it to her chest. He followed the motion with his eyes, continuing up until their gazes locked. "And if you can forgive me, I'd really like to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

He frowned, the situation making him a little slow on the uptake. It took him a moment longer than under normal circumstances to register the implied meaning behind her words. "You really mean that, don't you?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly as he stared at her, scrutinizing every infinitesimal muscle movement along her perfect facial features.

"Yes, I do," Beckett affirmed, maintaining her hold of his hand over her heart. He could feel it, the rhythmic beat of it. Her eyes dropped for a moment, lingering on his mouth before returning. "I heard you," she said.

He gave her a quizzical look, not entirely certain what she was referring to.

"The day I was shot," she elaborated, clutching his hand tighter. His heart rate doubled. He'd wondered when they would discuss this. He just hadn't expected it so soon. "You surprised me. Yet somehow, I knew. I had always known. I'd just been too stubborn to accept it."

Castle drew in a quick breath, almost like he was reliving that day all over again. "I didn't want you to leave this world without knowing how I felt," he divulged. He swallowed and dropped his head. "Sorry I waited so long, when it was too late."

"Oh, Castle, it wasn't too late," she insisted, letting go of his hand to cup his jaw. She nudged his head back up so that they were once again looking at one another. And just as before all this, they shared so much in that simple look. "Your words, they kept me alive, not just during the operation, but afterwards, when the FBI came and put me into witness protection. Knowing that you… that you love me, gave me hope for the future when it was all done." She paused, and lowered her gaze, worrying her bottom lip. "I know I have no right to ask this, but do I still have that hope?"

He gave her a quizzical look.

"You came here intent on turning Nicole down, am I right?" she asked.

Castle nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "I really liked her. But now, knowing it was you all the time, I'm not all that surprised. I am surprised, though, that I didn't recognize you immediately. Some observant person I am!"

"You had no reasons to suspect it was me," Beckett protested. "You thought I was dead."

"That I did, yes," Castle bobbed his head. "It took me three years to reach a point where I thought I was ready to move on. To start something new with someone else. But…"

"But what?" she prompted when he fell silent.

Castle drew in a deep breath, and tilted his head up to look at her. "Apparently, I'm not over you. I thought I was, but I'm not."

Beckett offered him a small, tentative smile. "Can you forgive me for deceiving you?"

He stared at her for a long moment, contemplating his answer. By nature, Castle was a forgiving man. However, there were certain offenses that were unforgivable. Meredith cheating on him being a prime example. That had been the last straw. The question posed to him now was whether what Beckett had done was unpardonable. He furrowed his brow as he thought.

From what she'd said, faking her death had not been her choice. That decision had been made for her while she was unconscious. Yes, she'd agreed to go along with it, but that had been after the fact. And he couldn't fault her for being herself, for seizing upon a chance to bring her mother's murderer to justice when an opportunity to do so arose. Because that was the woman he'd fallen in love with. And, in the end, he knew there was no debate when it came to her. There was only ever one answer.

"Yes," he said, flicking his eyes up to meet hers. "It's all a lot to take in, but in the end, yes; I love you enough to forgive you."

"Love," Kate breathed out, astonished. "Present-tense."

Castle allowed himself to crack a smile. "Yes, Kate," he said, giving in to his desire to touch her as he reached up to cup her jaw. Her eyes immediately closed from the contact and she eased into his touch as the pad of his thumb caressed her cheek. "I love you."

"Oh, Castle," she sighed, canting into him, reaching up to clutch his shoulders. Their foreheads bumped, and she let out a little airy laugh of relief. "I love you, too. So much more than I ever thought possible."

He swallowed, his heart swelling with genuine joy at once again hearing proof that his feelings were not unrequited. There had been times he'd doubted Jim Beckett's words to him, thinking the older man was just trying to console him. But to have the actual woman of his affections declare her adoration was almost like a dream come true.

"You really do, don't you?" he asked, still stunned.

She inclined her head. "It's why I couldn't wait to see you."

"What do you mean?"

Beckett pulled back to look at him. She brought a hand up to brush her hair back from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. "Technically I'm not even supposed to be here," she admitted. "I was granted special dispensation to visit with my father, but other than that I wasn't supposed to leave his apartment."

"Is that why you kept up the Nicole Brennon charade?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Partly, yes," Beckett said. "The man responsible for all of this—my mother's murder, Montgomery's death, my shooting—he's in custody now. But he has allies. And even though it's been a few weeks since they arrested him, some of his associates are still out there and might take issue with what I've done to help bring their boss down. They agreed to my father because he was family."

"So you did it then?" Castle asked. Sometimes he wished he'd never persuaded Esposito into letting him look at that damn file. Doing so had put him in Beckett's doghouse for a little while. But he had worked his way out, regained her trust and friendship. He remembered how Dick Coonan, the man who had been hired to kill her mother, had taken him hostage in an attempt to escape custody. She had shot Coonan to save him. Afterwards, she'd told Castle that she wanted him there when she took down those responsible. And yet, because of this situation, he hadn't been able to do so.

As if reading his thoughts, Beckett reached out and clutched his hands, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "You may not have been with me in person, Castle," she said, "but you still were, in spirit. You were always with me." She let that sink in, before releasing his hands and leaning back. "Did you hear about Bracken?"

Castle jerked his head up, nose wrinkling as he thought. "William Bracken? The senator who was arrested last month?"

Beckett nodded. "It was him," she stated with satisfaction. "He was the Dragon. He was the one behind it all."

"My God," Castle sat back, stunned. "He seemed like such a good guy. Do you know he was going to run for president? Hell, I'd even considered donating to his campaign." He shook his head in astonishment, half muttering to himself, "Thank God I never got around to it."

They sat there in silence for a long couple of minutes as Beckett let Castle absorb the new information. It was a lot to take in. Not only was Kate Beckett—the love of his life—alive, but the man responsible for irrevocably changing her life had finally been brought to justice. Her entire adult life had been shaped by her mother's death. He wondered what she would be like now that that singular driving purpose was gone. Yet still there was more he wanted to know. Three years had passed, and Castle needed to know what had happened during that time.

He could feel her observing him, much like he used to watch her working at her desk in the Twelfth Precinct. He grinned and cocked his head to look at her.

"Tell me," he said abruptly.

She furrowed her brow, confused by his question.

"The story," he elaborated, with a soft smile. "You know how much I like learning the story behind a case."

Beckett nodded, immediately understanding his request. "Okay, I will."