"You don't have to come, Kate," he sighs, feeling her fingers tighten in his as he uses the cane to determine the correct direction.
"You invited me," she reminds him, her teeth chattering quietly when a sharp gust of winter wind blazes past them.
"Jokingly," he counters, concentrating on the slowing sounds of traffic and the quiet ding of the lighted crosswalk overhead before crossing the street with her. "It's your day off, you should be inside, where it's warm."
She almost has him tripping in the middle of the road when she leans in to smudge her smile to his cheek. "You're warm."
"You're going to get us run over," he chuckles, picking up their pace across the street, grinning at her soft laughter.
"Besides, they're just going to check your eyes, right?" she asks while they brave the foot traffic consuming the sidewalk leading up to his optometrist's office and he nods his confirmation. "And you wanted to go Christmas shopping for Alexis afterwards?"
He nods once more and holds the door for her when his GPS vibrates in his pocket and he's certain they've reached the correct location. "Thank you for agreeing to help with that. Twenty year old girls are hard to shop for."
"We'll find something," Kate assures him, allowing him to lead the way through the quiet waiting room, up to the front desk.
He signs in like always, receives a murmured greeting from the nurse, and lets Kate choose their seats.
"It's empty," she informs him and he admittedly relaxes a little at that.
Everyone always stares at him when he comes here – when he goes anywhere, really – and he can always sense the burning gazes of those around him. He hadn't worried about that much for today though, not with Kate at his side to distract him. And likely glare down anyone who looks his way for too long. She doesn't like for him to feel objectified in public, he learned that when she snapped at someone who apparently couldn't look away when she took him out to lunch last week after their first serious discussion about this somewhat unconventional relationship they've developed. She's protective, but not overbearing, and it's one of the things he loves about her.
"Mr. Castle."
Whoa, wait. Did he just-
"Rick, is that your doctor?"
He can't love her yet. It's too soon. But he can love qualities about her, right? That's allowed and isn't-
"Ouch," he hisses when Kate pinches his arm, but she merely chuckles.
"Writers," she sighs, standing with him while he grabs his cane and leads her to greet Dr. Milton. "Daydreaming life away."
"Your fault," he grumbles before coming to a stop in front of Milton.
"How is it my-"
"Morning, Mr. Castle," Milton greets, extending his hand for Rick to shake. "Brought company for a change?"
"This is Kate," Rick introduces her with pride while he retracts his hand to place it on the small of Kate's back.
The natural tension in her spine seems to loosen under his touch and he listens with a small smile as she exchanges a brief handshake with his doctor.
Milton goes on about the weather while he leads them down the short hallway into an office Rick has never seen for himself. He's been Milton's patient for the last five years, ever since the accident, and he likes the man, despite his excessive need for small talk.
Castle pauses at the door, offering Kate the seat near the entryway while he makes his way to the examination chair he always resides in during his visits.
The routine eye exam is uneventful, boring as always, and aside from the verbal step by step narration Milton gives him of his actions, Rick has little idea of what's actually going on around him. As usual.
"No headaches or discomfort in the eyes?" Milton asks and Rick shakes his head, hearing the click of what he recognizes as the penlight mere inches away. "Look up for me."
Castle glances to what he assumes is the ceiling and blinks at Milton's command.
"Still no light perception, I'm guessing?"
"Nope," Castle answers. Milton asks the same questions every year during the brief exam, checking to be sure there are no developing issues – tumors, glaucoma, increased pressure – and Rick is always grateful to pass without issue, but the consistent assurance of no change also tends to weigh him down.
The small, hopeful part that still exists deep inside of him secretly longs for change.
"Well, Mr. Castle," Dr. Milton murmurs after only a couple of minutes, retracting the magnification machine he used to get a better look at Rick's eyes from in front of his face. "As expected, there's no visible alterations and you seem to be doing just fine."
Castle nods, like the doctor said, that was expected, and he knows he shouldn't ask his next question. He asks every single visit and he can already feel Milton's hesitance as his lips form around the words.
"And no news on the stem cell therapy option? Or, you know, any options?"
Milton exhales and takes a seat on a stool that creaks under his weight and Castle already knows his answer.
"I'm sorry, I wish there was something, but unless there are new developments…" Milton's sentence trails and Castle can hear the gentle breath Kate releases from across the room. "You've done a great job of adapting over these last few years."
Castle swallows, forces another nod, and listens to Kate rising from the chair, the staccato of her heels making a slow rhythm that grows louder with each step closer to him.
"So I should finally just accept it then?" Castle surmises. "Accept that I really will never see again."
Milton sighs. "Mr. Castle-"
"Why did you even tell me about potential treatment options if I never had a chance with any of them?" he questions, clenching his fists, loosening them when Kate's hand curves over his shoulder. "You knew there was never going to be any sort of cure for me."
"Because I was hopeful, I am hopeful," Milton insists. "Science is evolving with each passing day, more and more procedures are coming to light, but I never meant to get your hopes up too high before something concrete was developed, and for that I apologize."
Castle hears the sincerity in the man's voice, but his chest is tight with frustration, with the agony of having what he wants most in this world forever held out of reach. He'll never see again and he thought he had accepted this a long time ago, but the fierce disappointment consuming his chest says otherwise.
He doesn't know how to accept it.
"I need some air."
Kate's already handing him his cane and curling her fingers at his arm, but he shakes her off once he has his footing, mutters a 'thank you' to Milton that he hopes doesn't sound too bitter, and storms – well, kind of – out of his office.
"Castle," Kate calls after him, quietly so not to disturb the peaceful waiting room, but he can't face her right now. Not yet. "Castle, wait," she murmurs, catching him by the arm before he can escape out the door. "Hey, talk to me."
"About?" he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes - his stupid, useless eyes.
She presses in closer, one of her hands curling at his chest, latching onto the fabric of his shirt. "Rick."
"I'm sorry," he chokes out, shaking his head and trying to swallow back the sorrow climbing up his throat. "You shouldn't have come. You never should have-"
"Castle, stop," she whispers, nudging him to the left, where he feels something cushioned at the backs of his knees. Kate lowers him down to the padded bench only a few steps from the front door and he accepts his defeat, settling down next to her.
She doesn't ask him what's wrong, doesn't ask him to elaborate on what has him so upset, but she does wrap her fingers at his nape, giving him the contact he always secretly, desperately craves from her. Though, he doubts it's much of a secret anymore.
"I won't ever see you," he finally breathes out. "I've always hoped I would be able to see Alexis again, my mother, but at least – at least I have pictures of them, images stored away in my mind, but you… you're not there, Kate. You'll never be there."
The whimper that catches in her throat is inaudible, but he's become skilled at hearing, honing what he now considers his most valuable sense over the last five years, and he deflates with guilt at the pained noise. It's unfair, so unfair of him, to burden her with this, to make her share his torment.
"You should go," he murmurs, blinking against the tears swimming along the corners of his eyes. "I – I'll be better in a few hours. Just need some time."
For a moment, there are only the muffled sounds of the medical office around them, silence from the woman at his side, but then her hands are at his neck, skimming upwards to cradle his jaw, angling him towards her. He doesn't expect her to lean into him, to brush her lips along his just before fusing their mouths in a kiss that has his every working sense going into overdrive.
Castle coils his fingers around her wrists, following the lines of bones that lead up her arms until his palms are at her shoulders, her collarbones, and then the sharp bones of her cheeks. She hums, caressing the skin beneath his jaw with her sweeping thumbs as she kisses his bottom lip before she slowly pulls away, her breath coming in short puffs that fan over his parted lips.
"I may not be there," she concedes, circling two of her fingers over his temple. "But I'm here, with you, and I think I'm here too," she adds, lowering her hand to his chest, pressing those same two fingers to his racing heart.
"You're definitely there," he nods, feeling the dark noose of despair loosening from around his heart when she laughs softly, smearing another kiss to his eager lips.
"You still want to go do some Christmas shopping for Alexis and Martha?" she murmurs, her thumb at his ear now, tracing the shell, and he smiles.
"Lead the way."