Trigger warnings for pregnancy loss

Secrets.

Lies.

He was so fucking sick of it all.

She'd lied to him for months, probably laughing behind her back at how pathetic he was. How he'd followed her around in some piteous attempt to fit in, trying to be something he wasn't. She'd known for months how he'd felt, and had lied to his face about her own memory of the event.

He'd been so angry that he'd willingly cast her aside for Slaughter—a move that he now conceded had been a mistake. However, just because he'd made an error in following someone so unlike the great Detective Beckett didn't mean that he was wrong for being so mad in the first place.

It had hurt—made worse by the feelings that he had for her. Feelings that she clearly didn't return. He was determined to forget her, to move on. His mother was right about love not being a switch, much as he'd love to turn off the unrequited emotions.

The best thing to do was to stop putting himself in situations where he couldn't help think about her. He still wanted to continue to do police work, if he could. This desire had been one reason he'd thought Slaughter was a good candidate to replace her: he caught interesting cases, and there was no chance he'd fall in love with him.

In the end, it had been the values she'd taught him that'd kept him questioning everything that Slaughter did. Not his basic moral code—he'd had that instilled in him as a child by his mother. But Beckett had taught him how to do an investigation the proper way, and that even if the outcome weren't what you wanted, the truth was all that mattered.

Slaughter wouldn't have recognized the truth if it had hit him over the head. Not if it didn't give him the outcome he wanted: Vales in jail.

So, after the boys both left him hanging, he'd gone to Gates. She'd been her usual unapproachable self, and had listened to his concerns without saying anything until he'd trailed off. For a sickening second she'd stood there silently and Rick had imagined that she was about to send him packing. However, she'd just given him a nod (dare he imagine a respectful nod?) and summoned Karpowski to help him. Between the two of them, they'd managed to figure out that Glitch couldn't have been killed by Vales.

After that, it was a matter of digging through traffic cam footage and walking the scene, where nothing made sense until they found a pay phone nearby. That broke the case, as they found that Glitch had called his father. Ultimately, it was the grizzled mob veteran trying to clean up after his mistake-prone son one too many times that proved to be the murderer. Brian had had enough, and made sure Glitch never made another mistake again.

It'd been such a relief to have discovered the real killer; he hadn't even minded so much when Slaughter had punched him in the gut—a little parting gift. Payment for the mistake of following him around, perhaps.

The worst part, though, wasn't Slaughter or the fact that a father killed his son for being an incompetent criminal. Those were both bad, no doubt. But the very worst was that he was thinking about Kate Beckett more than ever. Something was off, and since he was at the Twelfth for long hours as they wrapped up the case he could feel the tension and the anxiety that pervaded the precinct—it was almost palpable.

The boys were barely seen—just a glimpse here and there of them grabbing something from their desks or closeted with Gates. Their visits so brief that he'd just see them passing by as he and Karpowski worked on something: there were no opportunities to catch them and find out what was going on.

Karpowski herself was as clueless as he was, or at least claimed to be. Nothing she said or did disabused him of that notion, so he didn't push her. He was just glad she was helping him.

Beckett was nowhere to be seen. The more he thought about her absence, the more certain he was that something was going on with her. It would fit with Espo and Ryan's odd behavior. Just thinking about her made his blood boil: he'd promised himself he would forget about her, yet she occupied his mind as much as before. It pissed him off, and he'd taken stronger measures to forget—distracting himself with all kinds of activities. Only to find as the case had wound down that she was still gone.

None of it had been any use. He had to know.

So here he was, once again trying to figure out the great mystery involving Beckett. The big secret that everyone was keeping from him. Asking someone directly would violate his decision to move past her; forget about her. And it was probably something stupid, anyway—he was just building it up in his head with his writer's imagination turning a molehill into a mountain. He cursed himself for a fool, but he couldn't drop it. It was tearing him apart, just like the other secret she'd kept from him.

The woman would be the death of him.

The beeping wouldn't stop. It was like the tone from an alarm clock, but too slow and persistent to be one. She tried to ignore it, tried to remain asleep, but it wouldn't go away. It tickled her memory—she'd heard something like it before.

The irritation of figuring out what it was sent her towards wakefulness. Her body felt heavy, her mind unnaturally slow. It was all very familiar, just like…

After her shooting. With the realization, her eyes flew open. Sure enough, the pale walls and mysterious equipment of a hospital room surrounded her. She tried to move her left arm—wipe her eyes so she could see better—but it felt as though a lead weight were holding it down.

A muffled groan escaped her lips, which in turn made her cough. Agony shot through her belly , but she couldn't suppress the need to clear her lungs. What the hell had happened to her?

"Kate?" Lanie's drowsy voice sounded from the right side of the bed. "Are you awake again?"

Again? She didn't remember being awake, period.

"Water," she croaked, and her friend appeared with a small, white Styrofoam cup and straw within seconds. It tasted like sweet nectar to her parched throat.

The waves of pain from her belly were ebbing slowly. Looking down her body, there was an odd lump over her abdomen, though it was covered by her hospital-issued gown. She looked back over to her friend, who was now sitting in a plastic chair next to her bed. Lanie's eyes were boring into her.

"I'm so glad you're awake again," she rushed out. "You look so much better, this time. Do you remember anything?"

Kate shook her head. It was a complete mystery to her.

"Well, last time you were just awake for a minute or two. Your dad was with me, then. Before that, it was just a second or two of opening your eyes, and then you were gone again. Everyone's going to be so relieved!"

Kate's throat constricted. Whatever had happened seemed serious. Had she been shot again? The need to know overwhelmed her.

"Lanie?" This time her voice was less scratchy, though it was still deep and unfamiliar sounding. Lanie reached over and grabbed her hands, giving them a tight squeeze. "What happened?"

Lanie's eyes immediately fell, and she tried to withdraw her hands, but Kate held tight—a life raft in a sea of the unknown. Her friend looked up at her, surprise and sorrow mingling in her gaze.

"Do you remember anything?"

Kate cast her mind back. She'd been sick…,"I talked to you. I was having some abdominal pain."

Lanie nodded. "I told you I'd check on you later, but you didn't answer my calls."

Kate hesitated, not sure what was real and what was part of the hazy dreams she could barely recall, the gossamer of their existence not strong enough to withstand full consciousness. "I went into the bathroom, and had started my period. But when I bent down to get a tampon…I was so dizzy. I fell down." She stopped, closing her eyes at the memory. "There was this sudden pain—in my belly. Then it all went dark." She opened her eyes again, looking at Lanie with the need to know begging from her eyes. "That's all I remember."

"I got worried, so I made Javi come over with me to your place. We ended up breaking your door down, and I found you unconscious in the bathroom. We called for a bus, and you were rushed here."

"How long?"

"Two days ago."

Kate gasped and the electronic beep recording her heart rate sped up. Two days! She'd lost two days, somehow. "What happened?"

"You had to have emergency surgery. You were so sick afterwards: they kept you on a ventilator because your blood pressure was pretty low. You lost a lot of blood. But, they took the breathing tube out this morning, and we've just been waiting for you to wake up all the way."

Kate's thoughts froze on the word surgery. Why did she need surgery? "Was I shot again?"

Lanie's eyebrows rose and she frowned. "Shot? No, you weren't shot. Why do you think you were shot?"

"I had surgery. Wait. Was it…was it my appendix? I thought it was gone."

Lips pressed together, Lanie turned her head away before turning back with a pleading look. "Kate, did you know why you were sick? Why you were vomiting and felt nauseous?"

Kate's brow furrowed as she thought. Nodding, she explained, "Dr. Burke told me it was part of the anxiety I had over Ric…Castle's change in behavior.

"Well, I guess that might have been part of it, but it wasn't the main reason." Lanie looked at her, waiting for an epiphany that Kate just didn't have in her.

"Lanie, I'm tired, in pain, and probably drugged after surgery. I can't think straight, let alone figure out what on earth you're trying to tell me. Just spit it out, ok?"

Taking a deep breath, her friend squeezed her hands again. "Sweetie, remember telling me about the night that Castle called you? It was about six weeks ago. He'd been drinking?"

Bowing her head, Kate thought back. What did that night with Rick have to do with anything? Unless…no. No. No, it couldn't be.

"You slept with him. Now, I don't know everything about your sex life, but I'm pretty sure he's the only guy you've been with. Time frame fits. You were pregnant and…"

A loud roaring sound filled Kate's ears as she watched Lanie's mouth keep moving but couldn't hear anything she said. Pregnant. She was carrying his child.

"I'm pregnant?" Her voice trembled and a warmth flooded her body, as if she'd swallowed a tiny piece of the sun. Golden rays radiated through her and she felt lighter, almost floating in place. A baby. His baby.

She wanted kids, someday. Wanted them with Rick, for sure. This would obviously change things between them. He'd have to be told about the baby. She was sure he'd want to be involved, even if the two of them couldn't work out their personal life together. He was an amazing dad—she wouldn't keep him from being one again.

But, a flare of hope sprang up from the suddenly fertile ground surrounding her. Perhaps this was what they needed. They'd be forced to talk, to be more honest and open with each other. Maybe this would be the catalyst to finally getting on the same page.

"Does he know?" she quavered. It had been two days; maybe he'd already been told. She'd have liked to see the excitement in his eyes; to have been the one to tell him. But she'd been here, wherever here was, having some sort of surgery.

"Does who know? Castle? No, he doesn't know." Lanie was giving her an odd look. "Only the boys and Gates know, besides your dad and me. I told the boys not to say anything, since you were unconscious. I was just trying to protect you: protect your privacy."

"Have to tell him now. A baby." Kate couldn't help the small smile that escaped as she thought about the tiny life she was harboring. A little boy or girl who might look like him. Or her—or a perfect combination of the two. An image flashed into her head of a little girl, brown curls and blue eyes and she knew, as sure as she could be, that she carried a little girl. A beautiful girl who'd have them all wrapped around her tiny fingers as soon as she was born.

She hoped Alexis would be okay with the news. Her own father would be shocked, since he had no idea she'd been…involved with anyone. But once he was over the shock, she was confident he'd be ecstatic. A grandchild, someone to spoil. And Martha. Martha was sure to be thrilled for them as well.

She just had to figure out where Rick stood with her. Could they be together? Or would he still reject her? He'd accept the baby, of that she had no doubt. But whether the two of them could be more than amicable for the child's sake remained to be seen. All she knew was that she had another chance, and she had to try. Had to make him see how great they'd be together, if he'd just try with her.

"Kate, were you listening to what I told you?" Lanie didn't look happy—not at all. She had tears in her eyes and her hands were shaking slightly as she clutched hers.

"What? What is it, Lanie?" Kate's stomach rolled and a sour taste filled her mouth. She shivered, suddenly feeling a chill that emanated from within as the warmth that seemed to radiate from her core abruptly flamed out, leaving only cold ashes behind.

"Kate, I said you were pregnant." She paused and Kate watched as tears tracked down her friend's face. They glittered like snowflakes in the light. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

A sharp pain erupted in the back of her throat; she couldn't swallow. She was drowning in her own tears. "No! No, no, no. No, Lanie, please."

Lanie was openly sobbing now, but tried to wipe some of Kate's tears away with a gentle hand. "I'm so, so sorry. There was nothing they could do. The egg implanted in your Fallopian tube. It ruptured as the embryo grew. You nearly died, Kate. You nearly died."

*ducks and slinks out of the room*