Rick doesn't close the elegant double doors of the en suite bathroom because he's the empty space of her bedroom offers enough privacy. He braces his hands atop the edges of her pedestal sink, squeezes his eyes shut against the building headache between his brows.
He knew it would only be a matter of time before Kate dove into his case, and it isn't that he doesn't want her involved in it, he just… wanted some time to simply be with her before he became a victim in a case she has to solve. He doesn't remember enough about his time with Tyson (and supposedly Nieman, because yeah, she has a good point about her being involved), can't yet remember how he survived each day, but he knows that Kate was a driving force, that the idea of coming back to her must have been one of the few things that kept him going for so long.
And now that he's back, slowly regaining bits and pieces that he lost without even knowing, he just wants the opportunity to savor this second chance at having his life back. He wants to not think about Tyson, about all of the damage that he now carries both internally and externally because of the man. He doesn't want to answer questions every minute of the day, doesn't want to spend his time dragging himself back through that terror and pain; he wants to be with his family. He wants to be who he was before he was abducted on his wedding day, before he spent six years practically dead to the world.
He wants to not be afraid anymore.
They could come back.
She's right, he knows that too, but he can't live his life with this gut wrenching paranoia. Every damn day he finds himself on the verge of falling apart and he just can't handle one more thing.
Rick sighs, feels the scars across his back stretch with the expansion of his ribs.
At least, he thinks, the entire FBI must be on a manhunt searching for the serial killer and his potential accomplice by now.
"Castle?"
He opens his eyes to the mirror, watches as Kate appears in the doorway behind him. He can see the regret on her face, remorse drawing down the corners of her mouth.
"I'll be right out," he sighs, straightening up in front of the sink, but she continues inside anyway.
He turns with an objection on his lips, doesn't have the energy to fight about this tonight, but Kate is striding up to him with familiar intent in her eyes.
And oh, he knows that look.
Her hands are cradling his face before he can process it, her body surging like a wave and crashing into him. And then her mouth is draping over his, warm and firm and all he's wanted since the moment he woke up in that hospital bed.
Castle sighs into her kiss, wrapping his arms around her body to spin them around. He pins her against the sink with his hips and a moan catches in her throat - god, he's missed that sound.
Taking advantage of her slightly parted lips, he tentatively touches his tongue to the seam of her mouth, earning the curl of her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer and pressing her chest firmly against his.
He nips at her bottom lip, relishing the soft sound of her gasp as he slides his hands down her sides, feels the shudder wrack her bones. In one fluid movement, he lifts her onto the edge of the sink, stepping between her parted thighs before she can dig her heels into his flanks. His fingers thread through her hair before returning to cradle her face, savoring the sharp edges of her jaw working against his palms as she kisses him with a devastating ardency.
"Kate," he breathes, his heart thundering so hard in his chest, he has to catch his breath at the corner of her mouth. She turns her head, seeking even as he grazes his lips along the slash of her cheekbone. "Dinner."
"I know," she gets out, tightening the taut muscles of her thighs at his waist and hooking her ankles at his back. "I just-" Kate tilts her chin, their noses bumping and breaths shared. Her lips are brushing over his, her eyes fluttering shut, lashes like butterfly wings against his cheeks.
Savoring, just like he is.
"This is real," she finally exhales.
He withdraws ever so slightly, stares into the ink pools of her eyes, liquid and golden and intent on him. Her arms are hooked around his neck and her fingers bridged at his nape, every part of her holding on.
Castle touches his mouth to hers once more, sighs out at the wet heat of her tongue, the caress of her lips so soft and delicate over his. One of her hands rises to his cheek, fingertips dusting along his jaw, lingering on his chin.
"This past week - you have no idea how much I missed this," he confesses into the altar of her mouth, resisting the urge to suck her bottom lip into his mouth, lave his tongue over it until her hips do that thing-
"Yes, I do," she murmurs, unhooking her ankles, her legs falling to a loose twine around his. "And if our six year old daughter wasn't in the next room, probably almost finished with the egg roll I set her up with, I'd show you."
Her voice is a low husk, dousing him in gasoline. Castle lets out a choked breath, drops his forehead against hers before he does something stupid like place an open mouthed kiss to the gorgeous skin of her throat, the sensitive spot behind her ear…
"Sorry," she chuckles, cupping his face in her hands and exhaling a deep breath that fans out across his lips. Still not helping. "And sorry for overstepping, for being so… headstrong about Tyson and Nieman, your case-"
"I don't want you to be sorry," he murmurs, untangling his fingers from the waves of her hair, doing his best to comb through it, tame the disheveled locks. "Headstrong, that's who you are, who I fell in love with, and I don't want that to change."
"But?" she whispers.
His nostrils flare. "But I just don't want it to be all that matters."
"It's not," she insists, their lashes twining once again when she looks up to see him. "I'm just… I'm so afraid of losing you again, of Lily losing you. Fuck, Castle, I've never been so scared in my life. You think you've missed this. You've had a week. I've had six years. I can't survive it again."
Castle bands his arms around her, hugs her so tight that their ribs crush together and he can feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest. But Kate seems to welcome the embrace, pressing her chin to his collarbone, her face buried against his throat.
"It won't happen again," he promises, even though he knows he shouldn't, that it's not fair to. But the tension in her shoulders loosens at the reassurance and Kate pulls back with a quiet sigh, layers her hands at his chest. "I'll meet with that agent assigned to my case this week, amend my statement. Or, well, actually give one since that last one was kind of lackluster."
"Only if you're ready to talk about it." She unwinds her arms from around him, her legs too, and he steps back to allow her the room to slip from the sink, back to her feet. She returned to the precinct today and she's still wearing her work clothes, a fitted white blouse and black slacks that trail slightly past her heels without her shoes. "I know it's all still fresh, that there's still more to be remembered, and I just want you to be okay as they come, Castle. No pressure," she murmurs, reaching up to smooth down his hair and he can't help but grin.
Kate Beckett mussed his hair while they made out on her bathroom sink. Life suddenly isn't so bad.
"Thank you," he answers belatedly, swaying forward to seal a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, that cherry lotion that blends with her shampoo and seeps into her skin. "Now, before Lily comes searching…"
Kate hums a laugh against his chin and reaches for his hand. She slips her palm to press against his in a firm kiss and laces their fingers, leads him out of the bathroom, her bedroom, to join their daughter for dinner.
Two days later, she's standing beside him in the elevator of the Twelfth, acutely aware of the déjà vu pricking at her senses. The precinct has been both hell and heaven through the last six years. His absence was a palpable thing, piercing through her every time she stood alone at the murderboard, let her eyes slide to the empty chair beside her desk. But it's the place that kept her hope alive, where she was able to find those vestiges of strength to continue the search.
Ryan and Esposito have been on her side from the day Castle disappeared, searching for him in their groomsmen's tuxes, leading task forces to find him in the weeks that followed, and working privately with her when the FBI resources went away within a few months. Lanie provided her the same unwavering moral support, staying up with her countless nights on the phone, sitting beside Kate in her living room, doing her best to offer comfort and hope. Letting her cry.
"That man is so in love with you, girl. He'll fight through hell and highwater to get back to you," Lanie assured her one night during those first few months of him being gone, flicking her gaze to Kate's stomach. "He'd be fighting even harder if he knew about baby Castle in there."
But even though her best friend smiled softly at the small bump of Beckett's stomach, it was an ongoing struggle for Kate herself to enjoy her pregnancy. Every surge of excitement was smothered by the sorrow evoked by his lack of presence, every milestone passed without him there.
It was a quiet experience overall, a melancholy nine months sprinkled with rare moments of joy, but after giving birth, it was no longer possible to keep Lily a secret. She did manage to keep her out of the press, though, and apparently out of Tyson and Nieman's line of fire, and that's all that matters.
Having an entire division of cops claiming Lily as family doesn't hurt either.
Initially, she didn't let anyone aside from her father, Castle's mother and daughter, and her immediate family at the precinct know about her pregnancy. She was lucky to have had a bump that remained small, easy to hide beneath thick sweaters and bulky coats. It allowed her to persist in showing up to work on Castle's case, until Gates quietly forced her into maternity leave.
Not that it stopped her from coordinating with the boys from her apartment up until the day of Lily's arrival.
"You sure you'll be okay with all of this?" Kate asks him in the elevator. He shoots her another baleful look, because really, she's being ridiculous and even she knows it.
He's improved so much since their first, unsuccessful attempt at an outing nearly two weeks ago. The noises of the city, the bright lights and unrelenting slew of people no longer paralyze him with panic; his confidence is returning, slowly but surely. She just doesn't want him to become overwhelmed in the next few minutes, especially by those who love him, have missed him.
"I'll be fine, Kate," he assures her, snagging her hand before they can reach the Homicide floor and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles that has her heart skipping beats.
The doors part and he moves to release her hand right away, but she twines their fingers, leads him out of the elevator and into a room full of officers and detectives. New and old faces both. But it's Ryan who notices them first, his blue eyes twinkling as he jumps up from his desk, bounds over to meet them.
"Hey, Castle," he greets excitedly.
Beckett lets go of Castle's hand so he can receive Ryan's embrace. He hugs the other man back for a long moment, his eyes suspiciously shiny, before releasing him as a crowd begins to form.
She feels Castle tense up just a little at the influx of human contact, the low roar of chatter, but he maintains his composure, loosening when she presses her shoulder to his.
"Ah, Mr. Castle, back and causing a ruckus in my precinct once again," Captain Gates sighs, officers parting for her like the red sea while she approaches from her office. A gentle smile is on her lips as Gates draws him into a quick hug, and Kate bites back a smile of her own at the startled express claiming Castle's face. "I never thought I'd be so glad to have you back."
"Thank you," he replies once she pulls away. "I think."
When the huddle around him begins to disperse, Gates chiding softly for everyone to get back to work, Castle looks over to her with relief and a hint of pride.
"Your desk still in the same place?"
"Of course," she murmurs, bumping his hip and nodding towards her work station.
Castle practically trots over, surprise igniting in his gaze when it lands on his chair.
"You kept this."
Kate follows after him, leaning her hip against the edge of her desk while Castle takes his time lowering himself into his chair. He stares up at her with far too much wonder once he's seated, clutching her heart without even trying.
"I wouldn't let anyone move it," she admits. "Besides, it's a good spot for Lily to sit whenever she's here with me."
At the mention of their daughter, Castle's eyes stray to her desk, finding the framed photos he was likely hoping for. He isn't able to examine them for long, though. Agent Mark Stephens is already emerging from the elevator, walking towards them with a polite smile that has always felt like such a contradiction to his intimidating stature.
The tall agent with dark skin and even darker eyes possesses a domineering presence, commanding the entire floor's attention through his stride across the bullpen. She thinks it's what makes him so good at his job - wielding a great deal of power in his appearance alone, yet proving likable in one on one interactions, empathetic with the victims of his cases. Like Castle.
Kate touches the small of Rick's back as he rises from the chair, keeps it there during their moment of reacquaintance with the FBI agent. He's here to speak with Castle again, listen to what he's remembered since their last interview in the hospital.
Stephens leads the way and Rick obediently follows the man towards the conference room with Kate at his back.
"You sure you don't want me to go in with you?"
She's not trying to hover, to listen in, she just... doesn't want him to feel like he has to do any of this alone.
But when Castle turns in the conference room doorway, it's his turn to reassure her.
"I'll be fine," he repeats, squeezing her hip before he steps inside.
"And he won't be long, Detective," Stephens promises her, following Castle into the room and shutting the door.
She trusts him. She actually likes the agent; he's done his best to remain on Castle's case, provide her with resources, and for as long as possible. He's the only agent who has actually given a damn even when all of his colleagues (and most of hers) lost interest, lost faith in the idea of Rick even being alive.
Kate takes a deep breath, reminds herself that he's in good hands, and turns away from the conference room to start back towards her desk where Esposito is waiting.
"Hey, where were you during the welcoming committee?" she questions with a quirk of her eyebrow, but her teammate, her friend, doesn't look amused. "Espo, what's wrong?"
Esposito purses his lips, straightens from his propped position against her desk. "Has Castle been able to tell you what happened yet?"
Her brow falls into a slight crease, not sure where this is going, but she shrugs one of her shoulders.
"He's had a few flashes. Nothing concrete aside from his certainty that Tyson is the main perpetrator, the one who tortured him," she recounts, information Esposito already knows. She hasn't gone into detail with the boys, but she has filled them in on the basics, put 3XK and Nieman back on their radar, and it has definitely lit a fire under Ryan's ass to find the serial killer. "Why?"
"You guys looked pretty cozy coming in here. I'm assuming you're back together?" Esposito prompts.
Kate crosses her arms over her chest, squares her jaw. "What's with the interrogation, Espo?"
He takes a step closer to her, lowers his voice. "I'm just trying to look out for you here, Beckett."
"Look out for me? For what?" she questions, utterly confused now.
Esposito's nostrils flare with the rise of his chest.
"This guy disappears on your wedding day, is missing for six years, and then suddenly comes back out of nowhere, no memory or nothing, and it's been what now? Two weeks and he's broken up your marriage, probably gotten Lily attached to him-"
"Esposito," Kate growls under her breath, not liking what he's insinuating. She knows that Javier has always been the more protective of her boys, the big brother beatdown type, but this is Castle. "What you're implying is way out of line."
"Is it, Beckett?"
"Hey, Javi," Ryan cuts in, his eyes darting between them. "There's no need to do this right now."
"Come on, bro. He's playing her, playing us all," Esposito snaps.
Kate balls her hands into fists, cuts her nails into her palms.
"You think I'm stupid enough to get played?" she questions, doing nothing to hide the bite in her voice. "You think I didn't explore the option of him choosing to leave when we started this investigation six years ago? You think I didn't ask every question imaginable to try and understand his disappearance?"
"I think that your judgement got clouded. Like it usually does when you're too close to a case," he mutters and Ryan sucks in a breath, positions himself as if to step between them.
"You didn't see his face when he realized what happened, when he realized how long he's been gone," she snarls out in a whisper. "You haven't seen his body, what he went through-"
"What he could have made it look like he went through," Esposito challenges.
She could slap him right there, her blood beginning to boil, but Ryan insinuates himself partially between them then.
She sidesteps him. "There is no motive," she grinds out. "No viable reason that he would have done this, no reason for him to come back if he had."
"It's too convenient," Esposito argues. "It doesn't make any sense, none of it, and if you were acting like the detective I know you to be, you would see that, see that you're putting yourself and your kid in-"
"Enough," she growls and Ryan places a hand on Esposito's shoulder.
"Lily doesn't need some deadbeat dad."
"Yeah?" Kate snaps, no longer trying to lower her voice, ignoring Ryan's distressed gesturing, and glares back at the man who's like a brother to her but is stabbing at her heart with his words. "Well, she doesn't need a jackass uncle throwing accusations at her father either."
Suddenly, Esposito's eyes flick over her shoulder and Kate follows his gaze with dread, finds Castle and Stephens standing behind them. The agent is dutifully looking elsewhere and Castle is staring back at Esposito with shock and… so much hurt.
She doesn't waste another breath on Esposito, stepping forward and hooking an arm around Castle's waist, nodding to Stephens and coaxing Rick to walk with her towards the break room.
"They… think I faked it?" he whispers, glancing down at her with the confusion prevalent in his gaze.
Kate shakes her head.
"No, Esposito is just - paranoid," she mutters, but it doesn't seem to register. "And a bully."
"But I didn't," he mumbles as they enter the break room. Stephens has followed them and settles at the table, waits patiently while Kate closes the door.
Castle leans against it. "Kate, I swear I-"
"Rick." She moves to stand in front of him, cups his face in her hands and urges him to look at her, holding his troubled gaze. "I believe you. I never said I didn't."
"Good, because I wouldn't. I'd never do this to you, to Alexis, my mother, Lily," he presses on, curling his fingers at her wrists.
"I know," she whispers, brushing her thumb to the smudge of purple beneath his eye, the lack of sleep showing up in evidence along his skin. No matter what anyone says, no one could fake this, the exhaustion, the nightmares.
No one could fake that terrified look in his eyes when she finds him after a bad dream, drenched in sweat and horror atop his bed or huddled in the bathroom.
"You're not a suspect, Mr. Castle," Agent Stephens adds solemnly from the table. "We ruled out your compliance quite early on in the investigation."
The deep crease in Rick's brow fails to relax, the downward curve of his mouth evoking the parenthesis of his frown lines. They're far more prominent than they were six years ago and she brushes her thumb to the distressed indention.
"Come on," she murmurs, lowering her hands from his cheeks and taking one of his arms, encouraging him to join her at the break room table with Stephens, who waits with the file already open in front of him.
She listens as the agent goes over the FBI's official investigation notes from the last six years, compared to all of the information Castle just relayed to him during their meeting in the conference room. But she can tell that Castle is only half-heartedly paying attention, his eyes continuously blinking, distracted.
"We don't have too much on Tyson, barely anything on Nieman aside from what you've given us, Detective Beckett, but we'll keep digging. Just having suspects at all makes a huge difference. Thank you for having the courage to share with me, Mr. Castle," Stephens offers, his voice never losing that gruff quality she's sure has intimidated many suspects in the past. Despite that, it holds an underlying layer of kindness for Castle.
Rick forces a lift of his lips, nods in response, and automatically gets to his feet beside her as Stephens gathers his things to leave.
"I'll call you if any new information comes to light, or if I have any follow up questions," the agent states, reaching across the table to shake both their hands. "Feel free to do the same."
"Sounds good, thank you," Beckett returns while the man makes his way to the door.
She waits until it's shut behind him to turn back to Castle, sighing at the stricken look still carved into his face.
"Castle-"
"I just never thought people would think that I - but especially someone who's my friend, who feels like family," he says, more to himself than her, roughly working a hand through his hair and staring down at the espresso machine that hasn't seen much attention from her in recent years. "How could he think I'd leave you? Our daughter? Since when have I ever been a deadbeat-"
"Rick." She silences him before the tenor of his voice can rise any higher, stepping in closer to curl her fingers at his hips, using the familiar anchor of her touch to her advantage. "I'm not excusing Esposito's behavior, I'm honestly still resisting the urge to go punch him in the face," she mutters, smirking ruefully at his startled huff of laughter. "But I think he's just angry at the situation, at… what he saw me go through, and it's easier for him to blame you, especially when there's no concrete evidence for him to rely on."
Castle nods reluctantly, but his gaze falls to the surface of the table. The hurt of those accusations remains, still so prominent and bleeding in his eyes, and Kate eases her fingers to the small of his back. He glances down at her in question when she untucks the navy fabric of his button down, slips her fingers beneath, his throat bobbing as her hands splay across the middle of his back, over the worst of his scars.
"I know you," she states with conviction, sweeping her gaze over his face as she brushes her thumbs over the rod of his spine. "And I know that you would never willingly disappear, that this-" She smooths her hands up to his shoulder blades. "Could never be faked. Everyone who matters knows it."
"Esposito doesn't," he grumbles, his lips forming a pout.
"Yeah, well, screw Esposito," she proclaims under her breath, guiding her hands back down to his waist, and he grunts.
"Better not."
A breath of laughter bubbles past her lips and she buries it against his cheek.
"Okay," she chuckles, works to tuck his shirt back into the waistband of his slacks. He's all dressed up today, reminding her of the years when they used to work together, when everything felt so normal and easy. When planning a stupid wedding was the worst of their problems. "Let's go. I promised Lanie I'd take you by the morgue before your physical therapy appointment."
"Can we get coffee on the way?" he asks, grazing his knuckles once to the base of her spine before she can finish adjusting his shirt.
She takes a step back, straightens her own blouse. "Sure, I owe her one of those too."
Kate loops her arm through his and walks with him out of the break room, remaining on his right, a barrier between him and Esposito's glare. Today is one of her days off and she nods her goodbye to Gates through her captain's office window while the other woman is on the phone, sends Ryan a strained smile. She averts her eyes from Espo, manages to corral Castle into the elevator before he notices. But she thinks he's avoiding looking in Esposito's direction as well and it makes her chest ache.
He has enough shame, enough guilt. He doesn't need anyone else adding to it.
"Lanie will be excited to see you," she tells him with a quirk of her lips, leaning into his side as the doors slide shut. "She still wants to kill us both for making her diet so hard to fit into that bridesmaid's dress, but she's just as glad that you're back."
Castle turns his head, presses a kiss to her temple, his lips spreading with a gentle smile. "Thanks, Kate."
She tugs on his arm as the lift stops on the lobby floor, drawing him out of the elevator with her. He has nothing to thank her for, but she returns his smile nonetheless, fits her fingers into the crook of his elbow as they step outside and he instinctively huddles a little closer.
"Anytime."