Rocket Man Chapter XVI

I am soooo sorry it took me so long. Work has been crazy.

As always thanks to the fabulous BBB's for commiting so much time into this.

Disclaimers:

They are not mine. I'm not keeping them, just borrowing, although I wouldn't mind to keep Castle. ;-)

She stared at her picture on the screen, her face on his personal murder board. All the details of her shooting, and her mother's case. What was going on? He had put it all up there, everything they knew, and even more besides she noticed, as she skimmed over the information. She stared at the closed door to his bedroom. He had been working on it? Why hadn't he told her? There was something, a feeling she couldn't name, brewing inside of her, so confusing, too strong to name. Why? The question ringing loud and clear in her head, demanding an answer. Why? She couldn't ask him, not now, he wouldn't even know why. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. Why were there always complications, There was always something. Why couldn't it ever be easy for them?

Kate couldn't think, couldn't clear her head, and she knew she needed to get out of there. Away from this murder board, away from the cases she had tried so hard to leave behind, and she needed to get away from him.

She switched the murder board off and turned, freezing when she saw Martha standing in the doorway, looking at her.

"Kate," her voice was soft, comforting. "We need to talk."

Talk was the last thing Kate wanted to do, she wanted to go home, crawl into bed and shut the world out. But she also wanted, no she needed, answers so she nodded and followed Martha back into the living room. As she stood in front of the couch, unsure of herself and where she should sit Martha tugged on her hand, pulling Kate down next to her.

"What is that?" Kate finally asked, glancing back at the office.

Martha took a deep breath, "I really shouldn't be the one telling you about this, but I guess in the circumstances …" She trailed off.

Kate tried to smile, but failing miserably.

"He started it after the new Captain kicked him out last summer," Martha started to explain, "After finishing Heat Rises it was more or less all he worked on, while waiting for you to call, but … ."

"I didn't," Kate stated, flinched with the recent understanding of the effect her total lack of contact had really had on him. "But why keep it a secret?"

Martha took a deep breath, knowing that what she would say next would be hard on Kate. Telling her that a friend of Montgomery's had called Castle after Beckett's return to work, explaining he was in the possession of documents which could guarantee both hers and Montgomery's family's safety; under the condition she stayed away from the case.

"He received those documents after you were shot," Martha stated, answering Kate's unasked question, as she finished her explanation.

Kate blinked against the tears she didn't want to cry, she needed to be strong. He had no right to keep this from her, no right to get himself into danger. What was he thinking? If they wanted her dead for digging around, they wouldn't spare him. How could he do this to his mother, to Alexis? To her?

"Kate, he couldn't risk losing you again and he knew you wouldn't stop. He'd tried to make you let it go once before."

Kate remembered all too well how he had begged her to walk away from her mother's case. And he was right she wouldn't have stopped, not back then, and not after her return this summer.

"But he also knows how important this is to you. That you need closure more than anything." Martha continued, trying to reason with her.

Kate started as Martha's last words hit home. Deeply. How could he think?

She looked at Martha, eyes stern and determined, "And that's the part he's got all wrong."

"Kate, I know I can't make you do anything, but please try to understand him. I don't know how he will take it if you stay away now. And I sure don't know how to explain it to him."

"Martha, I need some time," Kate replied, getting up.

"Kate," Martha's voice was heavy with worry, worry she would again disappear for months without a word, and Kate couldn't blame her.

"A day," she quickly said. "Give me a day to process this. I will call him tomorrow, let him know I won't be able to make it and I'll be back the day after tomorrow." She saw the hesitation, the unwilling distrust in Martha's features, so she said it again, her voice certain, "I'll call tomorrow and I will be back. And Martha," she stopped on her way to the door, turning around once more, "This needs to stop."

"I think the only one who can make him stop is you," Martha replied and Kate nodded, knowing she was, and she would.

As the door shut behind her, the tears fell and she wiped them away furiously, struggling to contain them until she was home, hiding alone in her bedroom. How could he? How could he do it without her, without telling her? And how could he think solving her mother's case was more important to her than his life? Than the life of his family?

Arriving home she made it to her bed and crashed down on the comforter, not holding back anymore and letting the tears fall freely.

Kate didn't go into work the next day, instead she called in sick and stayed in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking. She didn't call him either, not trusting her voice, but sent him a text, explaining she wouldn't be able to come and see him today due to a special assignment. He texted back minutes later, unalarmed and saying he would manage a day without her, though just barely.

After reading his words, she returned to staring at the ceiling, lying on her back on the bed, thinking. After thinking it through, once, twice, then again and again, Kate finally and slowly began to see the truth. He'd had no choice. She couldn't be angry at him for trying to save her life, and there was no question he did. She would have lost her head, running into it and getting not only herself into danger, but Montgomery's family as well. Kate knew she couldn't be angry at him for working on it behind her back, realizing she hadn't given him a choice. She'd told him she needed to solve her mother's case before she could be free to move on. And he had tried to give this closure to her, because she had shut him out, not letting him in on her wish to be more. Her desire to live without the burden of her mother's murder. Her determination to let go to give them a chance, to be able to be with him and make it work. And still it hurt.

Castle wasn't concerned when he got Kate's text. After all she had a job and her own life and she was definitely not his personal nurse, although he certainly wouldn't complain if she was. His mother was another matter entirely. She thought he didn't notice the worried glances she shot him throughout the day, but he did and she was starting to freak him out.

He and Alexis had spent the day together, strolling through Central Park for an hour and he had enjoyed his first real time out, since coming home from the hospital. More and more of his memory was returning, and with them details of his relationship with Kate. It dawned on him that their relationship had always been complicated, but there were still too many pieces missing for him to get a clear picture.

Over dinner his mother kept eyeing him, and he would have asked her what was going on, if he wasn't sure he wouldn't get an honest answer anyway. He was more than beat after they finished another movie and excused himself to go to bed, feeling his mother's eyes on his back as he left the room. If she didn't stop tomorrow, he would have to discuss it with her, as it was unsettling.

Sleep had come quick, but it wasn't peaceful. Castle tossed and turned, images flashing through his mind he couldn't place. A cemetery. Kate. And blackness again. The images kept returning, becoming clearer until a shot rang out and the last image before he woke up with her name on his lips, his heart pounding and a fear he had never felt before, was her lifeless body in his arms.

He was out of bed in a second, sprinting up the stairs and storming into Alexis' room, needing to know she was okay.

"Dad?" Alexis' sleepy but alarmed voice reached him, calming him but not enough to make the panic recede.

"You okay?" He breathed, his right hand cradling her face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Alexis sat up, "What's going on?"

"Mother!" Castle yelled, not wanting to leave his daughter's side. "Mother!"

"What the hell is going on?" Martha demanded to know, appearing in Alexis' doorway, tying her robe. "Richard?"

"Are you okay?" Her son ignored her, giving her a thorough look over.

"Yes, of course." She stepped into the room, glancing from Alexis to her father.

"Dad?" Alexis's voice full of concern, though he had seemed to calm down slightly.

"I had – Kate!" The panic was back. "Where is Kate?"

"At home, I suspect," Martha replied. "Why?"

"She was shot, there was so much blood," Castle's hand ran frantically through his hair, breathing raggedly. "She didn't move. It was so real. I need … I need. Where is she?" He was desperate, unsure what to do.

"Richard, Detective Beckett is okay."

"There was so much blood," he repeated, obviously not hearing what Martha said, who nodded at Alexis in a silent order to get Kate here. "So much blood." Castle's voice had become a repeating whimper and all Martha could do was sitting down next to him, pulling him close, while Alexis went to get her phone.

Kate had finally drifted off, startling when her phone on the night stand pulled her back to consciousness, she answered groggily without checking who it was, thinking it was the station.

"Beckett."

"Kate, you have to come. It's Dad."

She was out of bed and dressed in a pair of sweat pants and an old sweater, before Alexis even had a chance to explain what was going on.

"I'll be right there," was the last Alexis heard from her father's partner before the call disconnected.

Kate made it to Castle's loft in record time, storming out of the elevator and through the already open loft door.

"What happened?" she asked, finding Martha and Alexis sitting on the couch, worried expressions on their faces.

Martha walked up to her, placing one hand on her forearm. "He dreamt of your shooting." She said gently and Kate's hand flew up to her mouth.

"Oh God," her hand tightening around Martha's wrist.

"He still doesn't remember anything of what happened after the cemetery, so he's confused and panicked. And he thinks you're … ." Martha couldn't bring herself to say it.

Kate needn't to hear more, dropping her bag on the floor she rushed through his office and into his bedroom.

"Rick?" She found him sitting on the edge on his bed, feet on the ground as if needing to feel solid ground. His head hanging down, supported by his good arm, his back towards her.

Her voice made him turn around and the tears she saw shimmering in his eyes carried her towards him. Kneeling down in front of him, her hands cupped his face, her thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. "I'm here., I'm okay." She breathed quietly, and still she saw the doubt in his eyes.

She took his hand, placing it over her heart, "I'm here. Can you feel it."

"There was so much blood," he choked. "You were …," he couldn't say it.

"I came back," her voice was a gentle caress. "I came back." And then she pulled off her sweater, leaving her only clad with a white singlet and her bra. Pulling at the front of the fabric, she saw his eyes widen, not understanding what she was doing.

She pulled until the scar between her breasts was revealed, taking his hand, which was still resting over her heart, guiding it between her breasts, she let him feel. "I'm here."

He let out a staggering breath, "Kate."

She moved up into his good arm, which pulled her close. Hers crept around his waist, holding him to her. "It's okay. I'm okay," she repeated over and over again.

"I thought I'd lost you," he finally managed to say.

"You haven't lost me," she whispered and pulled back, kissing his forehead.

"You're here," he stated, the truth sinking in.

"I'm here," she smiled unable to take her eyes off of him, her smile brightening with his.

"You're here," he repeated on an exhale of breath, getting lost in her eyes and unable to contain himself any more. He leant forward, closing the distance to touch his lips to hers. His hand found its way into her hair, sneaking to the back of her head and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Her arms slid around his neck, bringing her even closer as his lips worked on hers, his tongue gently begging for permission to enter her mouth. With a moan escaping her lips, she granted it. Their tongues touched, dancing and battling. Castle groaned when her hands ran through his hair, her firm body pressed against him, chest to chest, pressing his injured arm into him, but he couldn't have cared less. The sensation running through his body was making him forget everything else.

She pulled away suddenly, startling him, leaving his body aching for contact, for more.

"Castle," she choked out, sounded shocked. "I'm sorry."