Lifeboats
"You want to get dinner after my shift?" Kate says into the phone, sotto voce and her face turned away from the scrutiny of Ryan and Esposito. Her partners have been teasing her mercilessly about the fact that she's sleeping with her favourite author and childhood friend.
Well, until Esposito asked her if they ever role play as their ten year old selves and she had to cut him down with a remark so scathing that neither of the boys has mentioned her sex life since.
On the other end of the phone line, Castle's voice is tinny and strange-sounding but still low and soothing where it sinks straight into her gut. "I'm not sure. Alexis has a project that I promised I'd help her with."
"Okay, well. . .I could come over to the loft and help out as well?" Beckett chews her lip and signs off on the paperwork in front of her, wary of the scrutinous gaze Captain Montgomery sends her way.
There's a pause, and Kate grits her teeth to focus on the snap of tension in her jaw rather than the choke of tears in her throat. Something's not right with him and it kills her. All she wants is to be the person that he relies on, be the one he turns to.
"I don't think that's a good idea. She gets totally distracted when you're here. My kid is in awe of you, Kate, and that's great but it's not conducive to schoolwork."
Shit, okay. "Right. . .I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Sure. Bye."
"I love you." She blurts out, but the dial tone is her only response. Damn it.
It's so much easier to say than she thought it would be, easier to admit to. Of course she loves him, it never really went away, but saying the words seemed to be this indomitable fortress that rose above her and cut off any chance of moving forward with Rick at her side.
The first time she ever said it they were cooking dinner together and he offered her a taste of his pasta sauce and then pushed her up against the counter and took from her mouth until she gasped when she told him his culinary talents are one of the many reasons she loves him.
Sometimes still Kate catches herself laughing at inopportune moments when the scrunched up nose of his daughter in mock disgust comes to mind. There've been a handful of times since then when she's said the words, breathed them out against his cheek as they fall asleep together in his bed or thrown them at him on her way out of the door to head to work.
And yes, he's said them back. But everything else about him smacks of something close to panic, the sucking withdrawal of almost all his affection leaving her gasping for air. Kate scrolls through her contacts until she finds Lanie and dials her best friend's number, leaning into the padded back of her chair and raking her free hand over her scalp.
"Hey girl, what's going on?" Lanie's voice offers an immediate comfort and Kate rolls her shoulders to ease some of the tension, already feeling a little better.
"Hey Lanie. Are you busy tonight?"
There's a moment's hesitation where Kate imagines her best friend checking the calendar on her desk. Lanie has quite the social life and Beckett knows it's distinctly possible that the medical examiner has something planned with Esposito tonight, but it's worth a shot. "No, I'm not busy. You want to go out? What's the matter, Writer Boy blow you off?"
It shouldn't sting so badly, it really shouldn't, but Kate winces and bites hard at her bottom lip. "Uh, yeah. I don't really want to go out. Would you come to my place? I'll feed you of course."
"Alright honey. I'll see you at eight? And I'll bring the wine." Lanie laughs softly, but there's something apologetic about it, as if even through the phone she can sense how much Beckett is hurting.
"Okay. See you then." Kate says, and this time being hung up on is not so bad. At least she'll see Lanie later. At least Lanie's not missing the outpouring of Beckett's deepest heart.
Kate puts her phone in the drawer of her desk – it's on vibrate so she'll hear if it does ring - and focuses her attention on the paperwork with renewed vigour. Partly out of guilt for slacking so much lately, but mostly to stave off the crippling grip of panic at her insides.
God, she loves him. Losing him is more than she can bear already and he hasn't even really gone anywhere yet. If he ends it with her, that's it. She doesn't know how to come back from that.
Rick bends over the sink and splashes icy water against his face, hopes it can sink below his skin and rouse him somehow. The excuse he gave Kate wasn't an outright lie; his daughter really does need help with a project. They both know that what he said about Detective Beckett being a distraction is bullshit, though. Alexis idolises Kate to a degree that scares him, but his baby girl would work extra hard to impress her father's partner if she were here.
No, he just. . .can't handle the guilt that consumes him every time she kisses him, every time she tells him she loves him. Whenever they sleep together. It's all so good, so amazing to be with her, and so he's hoping that at least this way he'll be able to quit gradually rather than having to go cold turkey when he tells her.
Which he needs to do. And soon. The radiotherapy isn't working as well as his doctor had hoped, and they want to start him on chemotherapy next week. So he has to tell her before Kate is confronted with a bald Rick Castle the next time she comes to the loft.
Loving her is just another drug in the cocktail that floods his system, but he's a selfish, horrible person and he doesn't want to do without it. Without her.
Heading back through to the living room, Rick finds his mother settled gracefully on the couch with her legs crossed at the ankle and a glass of wine cradled in one hand. At four in the afternoon, but honestly it doesn't even faze him anymore. "Mother."
"Richard, darling, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Katherine just now." His mother starts, lifting a hand to silence him before he manages to even get his mouth all the way open in protest. "Frankly, I think you're being ridiculous. Give the poor girl some credit; you really think she's just going to walk away when she finds out that you're sick?"
"Don't you think she's lost enough already? I can't do that to her again." He grits out, sitting down at the other end of the couch. His body sinks, a too-heavy thing long past his control and he drops his head against the back of the couch, his eyes slamming closed.
The touch of cool fingers comes to his knee and his mother squeezes as if in reassurance, despite the fact that they both know there's only one person's touch that really helps him now. "You can't make that choice for her. You have to tell her."
"I know." He grunts, a thousand different possibilities for how that conversation might play out rushing through his bloodstream and dragging nausea in their wake. "I just figure if I can make her stop loving me first it'll hurt her less."
"Richard, love is not a switch. You can't just turn it off." His mother says softly, the slightness of her body coming in close at his side. It's not fair of him really, to do this to her, but he's too selfish to try and moderate the spill of his thoughts from his mouth.
They both know that between his daughter and Kate all of his capacity for pretending is sucked right out of him and he just doesn't have the energy to do it for his mother too. Somehow, astoundingly, his astute little girl hasn't figured out that he's really sick. And by some miracle she hasn't mentioned his lump to Kate.
A gift, he can't help but think. One that will allow him to at least break the news with as much tenderness as he can muster.
"Darling." His mother says softly, her hand falling to hold his and her fingers curling up against his palm. "Go over there tomorrow. It's her day off, right? Go, tell her and explain why you've lied to her for so long and let her decide for herself whether she can handle it or not."
"Okay. I- you'll look after Alexis?"
"Sure. We'll have a girls' day. I've never seen you so happy as when you're with Kate. And that girl just lights up around you. I don't think for a second that she'll walk away."
Castle swallows, the scratch of resistance at the back of his throat a long-forgotten annoyance, and he manages to nod. "I had no idea I'd fall in love with her so hard, so fast."
"Oh, Richard." His mother releases a breath of laughter. "You never stopped loving her."
Kate makes Lanie wait until after they've eaten to bring up anything heavy. Jokes about indigestion aside, it's a sort of unspoken rule of theirs that whatever the problem is, however sharp the hurt, it can wait until after they're both full and at least somewhat contented.
All too soon though, they're scraping the bottom of their takeout cartons. Lanie pours them each a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching quietly as Kate paces in the kitchen with her own glass cradled in a palm. Eventually though, the medical examiner's thirst for knowledge takes over and she breaks the fragile silence.
"Kate, honey, what's going on? Last time I saw you, you couldn't shut up about how amazing Castle is and how happy you are with him." There's no judgement there, only a carefully crafted cocktail of concern and compassion.
Beckett crashes against the counter and drops her elbows to the reclaimed metal surface, head bowed in defeat. "He's different. It's like he's pulling away."
A gentle hand comes to rest at Kate's forearm and the comfort of Lanie's touch gives Beckett the strength to at least meet her best friend's eyes. The frown that mars Dr Parish's face sparks a fresh wave of grief in Kate and it must show because Lanie slides off of her stool and comes around to rest her palm between the stark wings of Kate's shoulder blades.
"Oh honey, it's okay." The medical examiner murmurs, arm sliding around Beckett's waist as Kate drops her head to Lanie's shoulder. "That man adores you. It's all over his face whenever he looks at you. Have you asked him about it?"
"No." Kate grits out, standing up straight again and heading for the couch with Lanie following behind. "I'm scared of what his answer's gonna be."
"Maybe it's not you, babe. Maybe it's something with his mother or his ex-wife." Lanie offers, wrapping an arm around the top of Kate's shoulders and tugging her best friend in close. "He's crazy about you; I don't doubt it for a second."
"When we're together he's so amazing and attentive and wonderful, Lanie. But lately I get the feeling he doesn't want to spend time with me." Kate manages, chewing on the raw patch of her bottom lip to try and hold back the wave of emotion that lies in wait. "He keeps making excuses to avoid seeing me. It's only been two months; I didn't think he'd get bored of me this quickly."
It's her biggest fear, the thing that made her most hesitant to start something with him, and speaking the words unleashes the torrent that has been building for a couple of weeks now. The tears dive down her cheeks in scalding rivulets and she chokes on a sob, crashing into Lanie to bury her face at her friend's shoulder.
Lanie's fingers card through her hair over and over again, her mouth finding Beckett's ear and murmuring reassurances there. "Shh, baby. Don't cry. It'll be okay."
"I don't know what to do." Kate whimpers, feeling pathetic. Feeling like a child. She wants her mom here, the gaping maw of grief opening up in the pit of her stomach. How much she longs for her mother's advice. Johanna would know what to do, would show Kate how to grab hold of Castle with both hands before she loses him altogether.
Lanie is a pretty good substitute though, and even as the pain claws at her Kate fills with gratitude for her best friend. "You have to talk to him, honey. You have to ask him what's wrong."
"I'm scared."
"I know." Lanie soothes, managing to extract herself from underneath Kate and guide her to stand. "Come on, let's get you to bed. And tomorrow, you call him and you ask him to come over and you don't let him leave until everything's straightened out and you're back to having the best sex of your life against the front door."
That draws a laugh from Kate, as wet and disgusting as it is. She feels awful, her face swollen and red from crying and her head pounding too. "Thank you, Lanie."
"Any time, Kate." Lanie says quietly, ushering Kate into the bathroom and turning on the faucet to run the water. She fetches a flannel and dampens it, wipes away the rapidly-drying salt from Kate's cheeks.
In the bedroom, Kate climbs right between the sheets in the yoga pants and oversized shirt she wore at dinner. Lanie smoothes her hair away from her forehead and flicks off the bedside lamp, drawing the quilt up around Kate's body.
"It'll be okay, Kate. You guys love each other so fiercely; all the rest of it will fall into place."
Even though her body is heavy with exhaustion and her bed is deliciously comfortable, it takes hours for the solace of sleep to come for Kate. It doesn't matter how tired she is, how snug, the stark absence of Castle's body next to hers makes it next to impossible to relax these days.
It's absolutely, one hundred percent too early when Castle shows up at Kate's door in the morning, but he knows she'll be up. She's an early riser, always has been. He can count on one hand the amount of times he's actually managed to wake before her and draw her up into consciousness with the temptation of breakfast or coffee or the touch of his mouth.
The door looms, omnipresent and suffocating and it takes him at least five minutes to muster up the courage to knock. There's an enormous possibility that this will be the last time he ever gets to knock on her door, ever gets to see her. So he'll savour it.
When he eventually manages to rap his knuckles against the wood it opens almost immediately and he's met with the gorgeous, delighted smile of his girlfriend come partner come everything. "Castle, you're here."
"I'm here." He grins back, can't quite seem to help himself. Kate's body is clad in just a robe and her hair falls in damp curls over her shoulders, the supple strength of her calves so very enticing as she moves towards the kitchen. Just expecting him to come inside and lock the door behind himself, and the level of comfort and familiarity they have with each other already never fails to amaze him.
"You want something to eat?" Kate throws over her shoulder, happiness still flirting at the corners of her mouth even as she schools the rest of her face into something resembling neutrality.
Rick shakes his head and comes up behind her, framing her legs between his own and bumping his hips up against hers until she crashes into the kitchen island. "No. I want you."
His mouth trails a scalding path down the slope of her neck and he sucks at the thin skin of her shoulders, his arm coming around her waist to pin her against him. She's trembling already, and Castle's glad for the support of her body against his. It's been too long since they've done this; they're both already so close.
He hopes to make love with her one last time before she cuts him loose, but she surprises him. Turning in his grip, Kate leans back against the counter and gentles him with tender kisses, her fingertips stroking over his cheeks as if she's collecting cobwebs.
Eventually she pulls back entirely and frowns up at him, one palm splayed over his heart as if to anchor herself to him. "Castle. . .is everything okay?"
"Never better." He lies, nudging his hips against hers and drawing a smile from the place deep inside where he stores the feeling of her every touch for moments just like this. He wants so badly to truly mean it when he looks at her this way; the least he can do is scrape together some semblance of truthfulness.
"No, seriously. Talk to me." She implores, and the realisation sinks heavy into the pit of his stomach. There's no way to avoid it.
He rests his forehead against hers a moment and drops a burst of a kiss to her nose, managing by some miracle to step back from her. "Can we sit? My back's killing me."
"Sure." She nods, looking so grateful for anything he has to offer that guilt freezes him in place and it takes the skim of her hands down his sides for him to move again.
They settle together on her couch and he notices the two wine glasses on the coffee table, nods his head towards them as he tangles his fingers with hers. "You have a guest last night?"
"Mm, Lanie came over. We talked a lot about you, actually."
"Oh really?" He lifts an eyebrow, darting closer to kiss the ripe rosebud of her mouth and draw her in to his chest.
He feels the work of her jaw as she swallows, her whole body alive against him but somehow still tentative. "Yeah. She was helping me figure out what to do."
"About what?"
"About. . .the fact that I feel like I'm losing you." She grits out, and his body surges with irrational pride. He knows her, knows how hard it is for her to speak frankly about her feelings, and more than anything he wishes he could offer her some reassurance. Instead he stays quiet, waits for her to offer him something more. "Something's wrong, and I don't know what, but I just want to fix it. I want to fix us, Rick."
"You- uhm." He has to take this opening. No more hiding, no more putting it off. This is it. "You're right. Something is wrong. It's not my back that's killing me."
"What are you talking about?" She says it so quietly, as if she's afraid that affording the words any more volume will be the thing to break them. "Please don't talk in riddles. Just tell me."
Rick kisses her, hard and bruising because this is his very last chance. Drawing back, he sucks in a breath and carefully untangles his hand from her own, dropping both of his to his lap and somehow managing to meet her eyes. She's doing a terrible job of hiding her panic, her whole face is contorted by it and he can feel it rolling off of her in waves that threaten to drown him. Castle opens his mouth and works his tongue, takes a moment to taste the shape of the words before he releases them.
"Kate. . .I have cancer."
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