Learn to Have Been

July 2014

X

It was five weeks after her son had been delivered safely to them when Martha Rodgers came down the stairs of the loft and happened upon a conversation that made her heart ache.

She hadn't been quiet, of course; she'd come clicking in her heels with a cloud of perfume and the thoughts on her mind also on her lips, but Richard and Katherine had been half in the study and half in the living room and they didn't hear her at first. They kept right on fighting.

"Let's just get married, right now. Forget all of this." Kate was pleading from the office; Martha only saw her son's face, the wash of panic flattening out to nothing.

Before Martha could interrupt, Rick said something, too quiet for her to hear, but loud enough for Kate.

"But why? Why won't you?" Katherine, furious and intent, came out of the study and stalked towards Richard. Martha rushed in because this was not something to be swept under the rug, not after all this, and she had to let her presence be known.

As always, Martha threw off the tragedy and donned the comedy instead, calling out loudly to them both, gathering her son and his fiancee to her and hugging them. "Darlings, you should. How wonderful would that be? Richard, listen to your mother. Don't let this - this event - postpone your plans. Life is short, and we all know it."

Richard's face was that careful neutral that still made Martha's words falter; she hated that face. This was not her son, she couldn't help thinking, this wasn't the man who wore his heart on his sleeve and could be a little immature in his self-centeredness (all her fault, she knew; she'd been his example) but who was, at the core, so compassionate towards others.

He was turning his head away from her, from them both, and Kate's quietness in the face of Richard's balk sounded a worrisome note in the air.

"Darling, what's wrong?" she said, letting the anxiety color her voice to knock Richard out of himself. And it did the trick, as it always did, always had, thank goodness, so that her son turned back to her and put on a smile.

"No, nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'm - grateful to be here. You're right; life is short, Mother."

"Then marry the girl."

Kate murmured something in resistance, her embarrassment acute enough to bring her into the conversation finally. "Martha. If he doesn't - it'll come. In time. It doesn't have to be today."

"But it will happen," Castle gave, his eyes flying to hers with such pleading that it turned Martha's heart funny. And it must have done the same to Kate, because she caught his hand in hers and squeezed it, stepping close.

"Of course, it will. Of course," she said, nodding and agreeing.

"You two should really talk about these things, you know," Martha huffed. They really should; she didn't like this, the way they kept circling the elephant in the room.

They were supposed to have been married. And now?

Martha had been afraid it was on Kate's side, not knowing how to adjust to Richard's... peculiarities of personality. Martha had been counseling herself to leave it be, give Katherine space, but the same did not go for her son.

"Darling, you and I-" she started, intending to sit him down for some motherly advice.

But he interrupted her with a step back, a grimace on his face that was then gone again. He didn't stumble - at least there was that; his walking was more coordinated, he was even undaunted on the stairs. It would come back. It would all come back in time.

"I'm going to rest," Richard said. "Physical therapy wore me out. An hour or so." He didn't even bother to check that it was okay with her; he turned to Kate instead and his pleading was all non-verbal.

And for things Martha didn't know about, couldn't fathom, but the look that passed between them said that there had been so much more to that conversation. More hurt than Martha knew.

"Then go," Kate said, and Martha had the feeling it was the wrong thing to say.

But Richard shuffled away from them, down the hallway towards the master bedroom, his head hanging with his exhaustion.

"My dear," Martha said softly. "Katherine."

Kate finally looked at her, teeth chewing her bottom lip.

"It's only a small bump in the road," Martha promised. "You'll get there."

X

"He looked like a little boy, so scared." Kate blew out a breath and looked away. "Of a wedding."

Lanie pressed the drink into her chest and shook her head. "What did you expect, Kate? It's been traumatic for him. He's still adjusting."

"But he's just not - not him," Kate whispered, closing her eyes. Lanie was surprised to see the tears squeeze out of her eyes; this was the end of the story, the happily-ever-after. At least to Lanie's thinking. Castle was alive, against all odds, a fairy tale ending.

"Feel free to tell me shut up, but... What do a few personality quirks really matter?"

Kate let out a breath and opened her eyes. She had a glass of scotch as well, but she wasn't drinking. Just nursing it, staring into her glass on their rare night off. Kate looked like she already wanted to leave, go back home, but she answered. "It's not personality quirks, Lanie. It's - his whole bearing. He's just so - he's nice."

Lanie lifted an eyebrow. "Nice. Hell, Beckett, ain't nothing wrong with nice."

"No, I know. I know." She said it like she was trying to convince herself.

"You're the one who told me he was an immature, egotistical, and self-centered jackass. You remember that? And that was after you two had gotten together. A little nice-"

"I'm not saying he's - you're right. I know. And I know Castle's - um - foibles. He is those things, but he's also - he's not this."

Lanie sighed and laid her tumbler on the coffee table, drew her knees up into the couch. They had to face this head on or it was gonna fester. She knew Kate. "Honey-"

"I don't even know if we..."

"That's not true," Lanie said firmly. "Don't even think it. You love him, and he loves you - despite being brain damaged, Kate. He's had a traumatic-"

"I know. I know. I know." Kate shook her head and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I know."

"What did the neuro say about it?"

Kate lifted her head, gathering herself again, nodding now as she went back to the bullet point list of what they knew. Always worked with Beckett; straightened her out, the facts at hand. "Well, for one, there's no lesion. Which is good; it is. I know. It means - at least they're saying that the possibility for full recovery is there. All the pathways are intact."

Lanie hummed. "There you go. That's good news."

"A full physical recovery anyway."

Lanie sighed. "He's not that brain damaged, Beckett. I talked to him. He's sometimes a little unsteady on his feet, but as you said, no lesions means he'll get that back."

Kate nodded, but she'd brought her hand to her mouth, was staring into space. She suddenly shook it off. "What about the forensics?"

Lanie offered a tentative hand to her friend, laid it on Kate's knee. "I told you. That blood splatter on his scrub-"

"Did you get a match?" Kate said, jerking upright.

Lanie winced. "No, honey. No possibility for a match. It's too degraded to know much other than the fact that it's male."

"So that's a dead end." Kate scraped her hand through her hair and closed her eyes again, but Lanie had already seen it, that flicker of calculation on her friend's face. Putting things together.

"No, not-uh," Lanie said, sitting up. "Go back. What was that?"

Kate swiveled her head to Lanie, blinked once.

"Kate Beckett. You're not getting out of this. What do you know? I see it on your face."

Kate bit her bottom lip and shifted her eyes to Lanie, but she could see that her friend wanted to tell. Needed to.

"Come on, Kate. You tell me what's going on. Tell me what you know."

Kate put her elbows on her knees and finally looked at Lanie. "Do you remember - the plastic surgeon? The woman who-"

"Left you guys that message in a ballpoint-pen? Kate, you said that was-"

"Tyson's girlfriend," Kate grit out. She shook her head, pressed her hands to her face again. "Or something. I don't know. It's twisted."

"But you're saying - are you saying that this woman came back for Castle?"

Kate lifted her head; she looked wrecked. It was the first time Lanie had ever seen her so completely out of control.

"Kate, honey, no. It can't be a woman. The blood splatter - we know it's male."

Kate's face twisted; she made a noise that she choked off with a shake of her head. "Not the girlfriend but - Tyson. I think it's Tyson," she whispered. "He's the one who kidnapped Castle."

Lanie stared at her for heartbeat, disbelieving, and then she schooled her features. "Tyson is dead. You shot him, point blank, and he fell off a bridge into that nasty water. Jerry Tyson has not come back for your boy."

Kate let out a breath, her eyes cutting to Lanie and then away. She looked uncertain, doubtful. She looked like she hadn't really been sleeping.

"Kate, honey, I know you're desperate for leads. But seeing things that aren't there-"

"No, I'm-"

"Listen to me. Right now, Kate, you need to focus on getting Castle better. Don't you think? That man needs to heal."

Kate bit her lip. "You're right," she breathed. "No, you're exactly right. This is about Castle."