Kate insists on cooking dinner that night, adamant that Alexis needs a break. And although his daughter does her best to put up a believable fight, Kate can tell the younger woman is grateful when she gives in, relieved to have someone else take over the kitchen.
Castle joins her at the kitchen island where she's laid out ingredients that might work for a variety of dishes. After some coaxing on her part, they decide on pasta casserole, so she hands him a knife while she heads for the stove.
"I know what you're doing," he murmurs while she boils a pot of water and he chops vegetables, but she merely arches an eyebrow at him without looking up.
"No idea what you're talking about," she answers, pouring the pasta into the water, maneuvering around him for seasonings. All while trying not to think about how domestic it all feels, how familiar. They did this dance over six years ago, when she started spending more nights at the loft than her own apartment, using his kitchen more than hers.
She used to spend a lot of time in this kitchen with him, doing a lot more than cooking, but she's trying not to think about that either.
"Well, I appreciate it," he says anyway, bumping her hip when she sets up beside him to begin mixing the sauce. "But this won't have to be a regular thing, you worrying about what food may trigger a panic attack."
"I know," she shrugs, even though she doesn't, even though she's been obsessing over the small clues he's already inadvertently dropped.
She has no idea what he went through, what the extent of his torture has been, only that his captor wanted to keep him alive and functioning. Keeping Castle healthy and in functioning condition seems contrary to the vivid scars on his back. Why beat a man near to death and then nurse him back to health?
All she does know is what Castle taught her over twelve years ago, early on in their partnership - there's always a story. They just have to do some searching to find this one.
"Just keep chopping, Castle," she murmurs, watching his lips quirk and feeling her heart swell.
He doesn't remember, is still living as if their scheduled wedding was only two days ago, this new life like an alternate universe for him in which he never left. But that doesn't mean he's okay. Those memories, whether repressed by the owner or the creator of them, are still there, just waiting for the next vulnerable moment to return.
But for right now, standing beside him in his kitchen, preparing dinner for their daughters, it feels normal again. It feels right.
And she allows herself to savor this for just a little while longer.
His mother comes over for dinner, but apparently not to stay. And he doesn't know why, doesn't understand, until he smells the alcohol on her breath when she embraces him.
His mother has never been a problematic drunk, often loosening up after a few drinks, growing tipsy, but never loud or obnoxious. Never an alcoholic but certainly toeing the line more than once over the years.
He wants his mother here, to have her in his life just as consistently as she was before his disappearance. He wants her happy, healthy, but in the meantime, he doesn't want this kind of example around the girls.
Though, Alexis seems to already expect it when her grandmother hugs her, burying her frown in the older woman's shoulder.
He wants to confront his mother about it right then, to pull her aside into his office and tell her to go back to the hotel until she's sobered up-
"My dad's going to help her dry out," Kate murmurs, catching his arm and his intentions in the kitchen before he can say anything. "Alexis and I called him this morning while you were sleeping. He's excited to see you, by the way."
The smile that flickers across her lips is small and fleeting, and Rick scrapes a hand through his hair.
"How long?" is all he has to ask. Kate sighs, crosses her arms over her stomach and casts her gaze to the women setting the table. Lily is busy chattering at Martha's side, oblivious to any change, and for that at least, he's grateful.
"Since she moved to Europe, I think. It - I had Lily to keep me going, Alexis dedicated herself to school, her career path, but your mom… she got lost," Kate explains on another soft sigh. "But she wants to get better. I know she does."
Castle squares his jaw and turns his back on the dining table, glares down at the island and the remnants of green bell peppers and tomatoes left on the cutting board.
"I ruined everyone's life," he mutters, hating himself for it, but Kate huffs her disapproval at his back, drifts in closer to stand at his side. "Seriously, Kate-"
"Because you chose to do this?" she questions incredulously, but he still refuses to look at her, can't yet. "Castle, regardless of what happened to you, how it happened, I know you would never have chosen to leave us. Not like this, not for this long. And no one blames you-"
"Well, maybe you should," he snaps under his breath. "Whatever happened to me was probably my own fault, probably some new Pandora's box I managed to open-"
"Stop it," she growls, finally earning the rise of his gaze, allowing him to witness the fire he's lit in hers. "You've never done anything without good intentions, but whatever reason someone took you, hurt you, it's not your fault. So save the self-pity."
"I'm not-" But she holds up a hand between them, flicks her eyes towards the table, where Lily is watching. Castle shifts, takes a moment to allow the heightened pounding of his heart to settle. "It's not self-pity," he bites out under his breath. "It's fucking anguish over seeing what I've done to everyone I love."
Kate releases a sigh, but grazes her fingers along his hand before dropping them back to her side.
"Don't you get it?" she asks, the fire in her eyes simmering into glowing embers, the hard lines of her features slowly beginning to soften. "You came back."
He averts his eyes to the ceiling at the infuriating threat of tears. He feels Kate brush her knuckles to the small of his back in a gesture of comfort he's missed so much.
"We may be a little damaged, but we're all going to be okay," she promises. "More so than we would've been if you had never come back, so it's worth it, Castle. Having you back is worth… everything."
"Momma, we're hungry," Lily groans from the table.
Castle chokes on a laugh, snags the hand at his back before it can fall away and presses a quick kiss to her knuckles before he can think better of it.
"Come on," he murmurs, nudging her towards the dining area. "I can't have our daughter thinking I don't take dinner seriously."
Kate isn't surprised when Lily doesn't want to leave later that evening. Though, she does surprise them all by clinging to Castle's side after dinner, curling up against him on the sofa instead of packing up her backpack like she's supposed to, and Kate excuses herself to the study before a potential tantrum can begin.
She makes the call she should have that morning.
"Kate, I was hoping to hear from you," the soothing voice of Doctor Burke greets her, already doing wonders for her nerves. After exchanging pleasantries and easing the door shut, she takes a seat in Castle's office chair, a deep breath, and tells her therapist everything.
She recounts every moment, from the call she received nearly 48 hours ago that led to the knowledge of Castle's shocking return, to the rift and potential end of her marriage. To Lily meeting her father for the first time, her refusal to leave him now - every single detail - until she feels utterly spent.
"I just want to do what's best for my daughter," she finishes on a trembling sigh. She drapes her forearm over her eyes as she tilts back in the leather chair, listening to the calming sound of Burke's contemplative hum.
"I understand your concerns in having too much occur too soon, but from what I've heard - and seen - of Lily Castle, she's quite tough and well-centered emotionally for her age," Burke explains. Kate exhales in quiet relief. She lowers her arm from her eyes, lets it fall to her stomach as she casts her gaze to the window at her side, the city lights glowing through the night sky. "I think the real question here is one I've asked you before."
Her brow furrows, but Burke answers before she can ask.
"Are you ready to accept Castle back into your life like this?"
"Accept him?" she repeats with a frown. "It's not like - he didn't choose to leave me."
"No, and I'm by no means implying that you resent him for something out of his control, but he did leave. It broke your heart, put you through a long process of grieving," Burke recounts.
Kate purses her lips, ignores the way the reminder scrapes at her already raw heart.
Burke continues. "A lot has changed since Castle was here. You had a child, got married, recently applied for the position of captain at the Twelfth. And those were all good things, Kate. What you have to decide now is if you want to adjust those changes to fit into your life with Castle. That is, if a life with him is what you want."
"He was gone for six years," she whispers, drawing her legs up onto the chair, her knees to her chest. "It shouldn't feel so… easy to be around him again. I shouldn't - I'm not the same and neither is he, what if we don't work anymore? What if we're just clinging to what we were? I don't want to put Lily through that."
"Why did you give Tom your ring back so quickly?" Burke inquires, throwing her off guard for a long moment. Kate tucks her hand into the collar of her shirt, gripping the chain around her throat and toying with the ring she still has. "Why not try to work things out?"
"Because… Castle is here," she answers, the first and easiest explanation that comes to mind. "Tom was wonderful, but if Castle never would have left, it never would have happened. Being with anyone else when he's here again feels…"
"Wrong?"
"Unfathomable," she confesses on an exhale. "But we can't just pick up where we left off, even he knows that."
"Good, because that would be impossible," Burke confirms. "It won't be easy, Kate. From what you've told me, Castle has undergone his fair share of trauma, to say the least, and you have too. It's going to take work and time, but if it's what you want, if it's what makes both Lily and you happy, then it will be worth the effort."
Kate closes her eyes, sways slowly in the chair and curls her fist around the ring at her sternum.
"This is the first time in the last six years that things feel right again," she admits in a whisper. "Not just okay or acceptable, but… like they should."
"Then, in answer to your original question, my personal opinion is that as long as you and Lily are comfortable with it, you should stay at the loft," Burke states, that reassuring tenor of confidence in his voice. "At least until Lily's developing separation anxiety subsides and she can trust in the fact that Castle won't disappear again."
Kate nods to herself. "Do you think a week would be an adequate start?"
"Do you?" Burke parrots and she huffs, hates when he does that.
"For now," she concedes on a grumble. She can practically hear that pleased smile that often spreads across his lips when a session is successful.
"It sounds like you know what to do," Burke appraises, waiting a beat. "Would you like me to squeeze you in for an appointment this week?"
"That'd probably be a good idea," Kate concedes, unfolding her legs from the chair. "And… will you let me know if you have any extra openings?"
There's a pause of curiosity before he figures it out. "I could certainly squeeze Castle in as well if he thinks therapy would benefit him."
"After what he's been through, what I've seen anyway, I want to let him know the option is there," she murmurs, standing from the chair. She remains behind Castle's desk, brushing her fingers along the picture frames. "Especially if more memories start to come back."
"I'll keep an open spot for him if he opts for a session," Burke assures her.
Kate sighs in gratitude, dusts her fingertips over the ultrasound of Lily that somehow made it from the fridge to his desk.
"Thank you."
"Anytime, Kate. Truly, I hope this all works out, but you know how to reach me if you need anything at all."
She thanks Doctor Burke once more, bids him a good night, and emerges from Castle's office to find Lily dozing against his side. Castle's arm is draped over her shoulders and it makes Kate's heart kick hard, forces her to stall and lean against the doorframe.
"Everything okay?" he asks quietly.
She hesitates for a second before she nods, ensures her heart won't send her to her knees as she pushes off the wall to enter the living room.
"Burke thinks that, for Lily's sake, it might be a good idea to stick around for a little while," she explains, watching the excitement flicker in his eyes despite his best attempts to blink it away. "So, if it's okay, I was thinking we could stay for the week."
"You never have to ask my permission," he answers without missing a beat, but his words are solemn, earnest. "This is just as much your home, hers, as it is mine."
Her lips threaten to twitch in the corners and she nods her acceptance, drifts in towards the two of them. "Well, Lily isn't going to leave your side and I need to pack our stuff. Come with us?"
"Sure," Castle accepts, glancing down to the little girl sleeping against his side. "Does she have a bedtime?"
"Eight on school nights, nine on weekends, but I've been catching her with a flashlight and a book lately when I go to check on her," Kate chuckles, rolling her eyes even as a proud grin splits Castle's lips open.
"Better hurry then, bedtime is approaching," he murmurs, shifting to wake Lily with that pleased smile still in place. Because, of course, he's thrilled to have another daughter who's willing to break the rules for a good book.
Lily's eyes peel open at the gentle nudge of Castle's hand on her shoulder. Kate holds her breath, waits for the reaction, but Lily only stares up at him for a moment before her eyes stray to find her mother.
"Do we have to leave, Momma?" she yawns, her head still resting against Castle's ribcage.
But Kate's already shaking her head, dispelling the prepared pleading from her eyes and watching Lily's smile bloom.
"No, Peanut," she sighs, exhausted but relieved to see her daughter happy, to see the echoing smile on Castle's lips. "We're staying."