Jane Doe

After the horror of that case, Kate's team has the next couple days off. Kate has Sunday off every week anyway, which means she has three days stretched out in front of her, blissfully interrupted. This might be one of her favourite things about the life she's woken up into. Back in 2008 she hated taking time off, had nothing to fill it with other than laundry and cleaning and menial tasks that did little but make her realise how desperately lonely a life she was trudging through.

It isn't like that now. She has her father still, of course. And a husband and son, quasi daughter and wonderful mother in law. And further than that even, her beautiful nieces, the sisterhood offered by Lanie and Jenny.

She woke early this morning, the sun struggling its way over the horizon as Kate's own circadian rhythms dragged her into consciousness. When she went to check on her son, the twist of nausea still in her guts as she remembered the tiny, fragile victims of the man they caught only yesterday, Marlow had been sitting up in bed surrounded by action figures.

Stooping to kiss him, Kate settled cross legged at the other end of the mattress from her little boy and joined in his game, guided by him. It had helped immensely, more even than the comfort of Rick's embrace last night. After how much she's forced herself to cut back on the physical affection she can't help but want to show him, the way he held her had been a blessed relief.

Kate hopes it can be a turning point. That he won't be so damaged by her touching him now, and she can do it more readily.

God, she misses holding his hand.

And yes, that's ridiculous, because it's been what? Seven weeks since she lost all of her memories. But in that time she's grown to care deeply for her husband. Last night was not the first time she's come home and cried because of a difficult case. But it was the first - that she can remember - when the whole world didn't seem like quite such an awful place. Not with the scent of him smoothing over her skin, the drugging lull of his breathing beneath her ear.

Eventually, Mal had gotten bored with his game and come crawling into her lap instead, his arms around her shoulders and then his legs wrapping at her hips as well, clinging like a newborn animal. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe Kate's son really did sense how badly she needed a hug from him, but the last of the tension in her slipped away as easily as her little boy's hand tangled in the neckline of her shirt.

She had suggested that they make breakfast in bed for Rick and Mal had giggled his agreement, tottering ahead of her down the hallway. At least he slowed down before he got to the staircase, took those awful hazardous steps slowly.

Every time she watches him make his way downstairs her heart lurches, the fear that he'll fall through the gap between the steps clutching at her. He didn't, of course, and now they're hovering outside the door to Kate's bedroom.

She's got the tray with the breakfast things on and she nods at her son, gives him permission. Mal flings the door open, his excitement spilling over, and he charges for the bed and climbs right up, landing heavy on his father's stomach.

Immediately, Castle's eyes pop open and he groans dramatically, his arm landing across their son's body like a falling oak to pin the squirmy toddler against his chest. "Hey buddy. What's going on?"

"Mommy and me did make you breakfast." Mal beams in delight, wriggling around on top of his father. From beneath their son, Rick struggles his way upright and leans back against the headboard, glancing towards Kate where she hovers in the doorway and offering her a tender smile.

It's all the encouragement she needs and she comes right to the bed and climbs into it on her knees, the tray gripped tight in both hands. "Mal baby, come sit with me. Give Daddy some space to eat."

Their son spills out of the loose hold of Rick's arms and comes to sit at his mother's side instead, burrowing close as Kate hands the tray over to her husband.

"Wow!" He beams, and it seems genuine. Not like he's playing up his delight for the benefit of their little boy, but rather that he is actually delighted. "Look at this. It looks delicious. Mal, which is the yummiest part? What should I try first?"

"Bacon." Mal erupts with laughter, crawling across the sheets to nudge his way underneath Rick's arm. He stretches his legs out in front of him, arms pinned tight and he looks so overjoyed to be sat beside his father, like he's trying to look so grown up, that Kate laughs and snags her phone from the nightstand to take a picture.

"Do you two want some of this?" Rick lifts an eyebrow, glances at Kate before his eyes drop back down to the food in front of him.

She may have gotten just a little carried away. Gratitude makes her silly for him, made her dance around the kitchen with her son like a fool. "We ate as we went, but he can have more if he's hungry."

Kate shifts to cross her legs underneath her and watches her boys have their fill of breakfast. After a couple of minutes she hears the click of the coffee machine coming on and heads to the kitchen to fix a mug for herself and her husband.

As she waits for the liquid to drip down into the pot she hears Rick and Marlow chatting together, too quiet to make out any of the words but it has her grinning wide, a hand coming up as if to capture some of that joy. She comes back with the coffee and sets Rick's mug down on the nightstand, cradles her own in both hands as she settles to sit again.

Inevitably, Mal gets bored with the food and with sitting in bed and disappears off towards the living room. They wait in silence for a moment until they hear the sound of one of his toys clicking on, the music flaring to life and jarring them both.

After a few moments of quiet, Rick sets his cutlery down and shifts the tray to the nightstand, drawing his legs up to mirror the way Kate is sitting. "I was thinking we should see about getting him into preschool. I love being his dad, I really do, but I miss being at the precinct. I miss working with you."

"Don't you usually have to get them on a waiting list before they're even born?" Kate asks, not sure from where she even acquired that knowledge.

Her husband nods, but he's reaching for his phone and fiddling with it, handing it to her with the web browser open. "Usually, yes. But Kate. . .we have a lot of money. A lot of places can be persuaded by that."

"Okay." She says slowly. It still takes her by surprise, weeks later, when he refers to them as we. Not as much surprise as when she checked her bank accounts and found a joint account with a completely ridiculous amount of money in it. "What do we need to do?"

"I made a list of the places I think would be good for him. You look at it and let me know which ones you think work, and we'll call and see if we can visit."

Well, that seems easy enough. And it makes her happy to have an action plan, makes her feel secure in the knowledge that whatever it is, she'll get it done.

It took them almost all of the time Kate had from work to look into possible preschools for Marlow, in between actually taking care of the boy himself and heading over to Alexis' apartment to help her redecorate and all of the other little things they did.

Kate went back to work yesterday and landed a fresh body not five minutes after she stepped off of the elevator; she had sent him a grumbling text message that made him laugh loud enough to earn an inquisitive look from their son.

By some miracle, they secured an appointment to look around the preschool at the top of their list. It's for this evening, five o'clock, and Alexis just called to tell him she's on her way up from the lobby. His daughter, his eldest baby, is going to hang out with her father and her brother this afternoon and then babysit Marlow later while Rick and his wife visit the school.

Marlow's name is already down on the list for kindergarten at Marlowe Prep, the school Alexis attended. They hadn't even realised the coincidence of their son sort of, almost, being named after his big sister's school until they had enrolled him and it had made Kate huff and roll her eyes.

Back then, Rick didn't know how hard it would be to not be at the precinct. Alexis never had a nanny or preschool; he loved being her daddy and sharing the magic of every day with his baby girl. But he misses his wife, misses his quasi career as Assistant Volunteer Homicide Detective, and he wants that back.

And anyway, Mal is such a social little thing, always making friends with whoever they stumble across when they explore the city together. He needs interaction with kids his own age, and Rick has resigned himself to the fact that that's something he simply can't provide.

The loft door swings open and Rick stands to greet his daughter, wraps her up in a bear hug that makes her groan loudly and wriggle to get free. Alexis catches her little brother when Mal charges at her and swings him right up into the air, scatters his face with kisses.

"Hello there, Marlow." Alexis grins at her brother and Rick hovers for a moment even as the two of them move further into the loft, choked up at the sight of his two beautiful children. He's blessed, and he needs to try harder to remember that when things with Kate get rough.

They settle down on the couch, his kids, and Marlow giggles and squirms as Alexis fishes the television remote from between the couch cushions and scrolls through the DVR until she finds some movie Kate must have recorded for Mal to watch.

Rick grabs snacks and blankets and joins his kids on the sofa for the movie, both of them burrowing into him and snuggling close. Time passes quickly, without their notice, and as the credits roll Rick checks his cell phone and is startled to find that it's ten to five already.

Kate should have been home twenty minutes ago. Panic lurches in his stomach and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, closes his eyes. It's not the same.

Only seven weeks since her accident; he can't go through this again. Can't lose her again. Dislodging himself from the all-over affection of his children, Rick heads for his office and closes the door carefully, dials his wife as he paces next to the window.

She picks up on the fourth ring, hassled and maybe even a little out of breath. "Beckett."

"Kate, thank god, you're alright." He gasps, collapsing into the couch beneath the window. Pressing his cheek to the glass, he stares out at the city and tries not to drop his phone as the thick rush of relief makes him tremble.

There's a sigh across the line, but he knows it isn't him that she's annoyed with. Just. . .frustrated with the case. With whatever it is that's holding her up. "Yeah, I'm fine." A pregnant pause, and then she speaks again. "Listen, Castle. . .I don't think I'm gonna make it to the preschool tour tonight. The case is crazy, and-"

"Did you even try." He cuts her off, surprising even himself with the steel in his voice. "Did you even ask the boys if they could cover for you or did you just decide that the case is more important than your family, than our son."

He's yelling, by the end of his sentence, and through the bookshelf walls he sees his daughter take Marlow and head upstairs, protecting the boy from having to witness Rick's anger.

"Castle, this is my job. You know how important it is." Kate says quietly, but there's no apology there. "And I'm still figuring out how to balance family and work. This is new for me, Rick; it isn't easy."

"Like hell it isn't." He finds himself growling, shoving a hand through his hair hard enough to make him wince. "You're managing just fine with the fun parts. With pretty much everything, in fact, except being my partner."

"That's not fair." Kate says. There's a sound like a door closing and he imagines she's shut herself away in the break room to hash this out with him. "I'm doing my best. I've only known this is my life for seven weeks. Only known Mal for that long."

Rick sighs, his free hand coming to cover his eyes. "I know you don't remember him, but you're still his mother and you still have to take some responsibility."

His voice is quieter now, but all the more deadly for it. Ice cold and measured, and Kate gives it right back to him when she replies. "I have responsibilities here too, Castle. My job matters. I can't just toss the case aside."

He needs to hang up the phone and calm down. He needs to not be yelling at her. It's completely unfair to just unleash the anger that has been bubbling inside him since Kate's accident. Anger at the universe for doing this to them again, trying to rip them apart, and he absolutely shouldn't be yelling at her. But he's started now, and he can't seem to stop.

"You know I could have gotten him into preschool weeks ago? But I waited, because I thought you would want to have a say in where he ended up. I thought you would care about our child's future."

"Rick-"

"You know what, Kate? Forget it. I'll figure it out by myself. Good luck with the case." He says, and swipes his finger across the screen to end the call.

Shaking hard with a cocktail of rage and guilt, Rick stalks through the living room to the bottom of the staircase and calls up to his daughter. "Alexis, I'm going to the meeting. I'll text you when I know what's happening."

"Okay." His little girl calls back down to him and he yanks open the door of the loft and steps through. It takes everything he has not to slam it on his way out.

Kate creeps inside the loft, shame heavy on her shoulders, and sheds her coat by the door. All evening, her husband's words have been circling around and around in her head. And, in that wonderfully ironic way the world has, she has been completely useless at work entirely because she can't stop thinking about the spit of rage in his voice.

She's been waiting for this; Doctor Burke even told her to expect an outburst from her husband at some point. That he had a lot of anger about the situation and he wouldn't be able to hold it in forever. Even so, she feels sick with guilt and terror both.

He's been so patient with her, so willing to wait. Has stuck by her side even when she woke up not even knowing him, let alone loving him the way a wife ought to. But what if this is his tipping point?

Padding through to their bedroom, Kate changes quickly and slides underneath the sheets. Rick has his back to her, his body a great immovable thing, but she knows he's not asleep. She waits a moment, and then she reaches out and touches her palm to the line of his shoulder blade, so stark even through his shirt.

"Rick, I'm so sorry." Her voice cracks, and she doesn't bother trying to hide it. "Please don't leave me."

He rolls over at that and turns on the lamp on the nightstand, supporting his weight on his elbows and frowning at her where she lies next to him, her body scrunched up tight. "What are you talking about? Why would I leave?"

"We fought. I hurt you." Kate whispers, shame making her voice like a shadow of how it was earlier at the precinct when she had their killer in the box, was tearing into him. "I should have stepped back from the case. You and Marlow are so important. The most important things in my life."

His face opens up in surprise then and he stares at her, slack-jawed. "I'm important to you?"

"Of course. You're my husband. And an amazing man." Kate manages a smile, somehow, and the relief when Rick returns it is like a hit straight to the chest. "I hate fighting with you. I hate hurting you."

"Hey, come here." He murmurs, and then he wraps an arm at her shoulders and draws her against him for a sideways hug. He presses a kiss to the side of her head, his fingers warm at the bare skin of her bicep. "It's okay. Yes, you hurt me. And I've hurt you, too. It happens. We get over it."

She nods, swallowing back the stupid clog of emotion. "Okay."

"Kate. . .you were really worried that I might leave?" He asks, so very gently. His voice is laced with disbelief, too, as if he can't imagine how she could be so foolish.

She doesn't know how to even begin explaining that the fear has been nibbling away at the base of her skull almost since she woke up in the hospital. Even when she didn't know him at all she had been worried that he'd leave her floundering, alone in this strange new world.

"It was. . .a bad fight, Rick. Pretty brutal." Mostly on his part, but she doesn't say that. Doesn't see the point in making him hurt over it.

He chuckles, kisses her again and Kate's heart leaps in her chest. His mouth isn't even making contact with her skin, only the curling mass of her hair, but still she feels giddy and a little bit like liquid. "Kate, we fight. Before we got together, even, we had some awful fights. But as much as you might have hurt me, nothing hurts as much as being without you. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." She smiles, a little sheepish. Adrenaline recedes in waves and Kate lets herself relax against him, her whole body going limp. "How was the school?"

"Oh - amazing!" Rick grins, shifting them both around in the bed and clicking off the lamp again, plunging them into darkness. "The security is really good, the staff seem excellent. And there are so many activities and things for him to be doing. I think he'll love it there."

"Did you ask them if they have spaces?"

"I said I would pay double the fee and make a generous donation to the school and they said they're sure they can squeeze him in somewhere." Rick chuckles, his palm moving from her bicep to the curve of her waist instead.

There's still some awkwardness, neither of them quite ready to let go of the sting of the words exchanged over the phone earlier. But everywhere they touch, there's forgiveness too. "So this is the one?"

"I told them it seemed fantastic, but that I would want my wife to see it too before we make any final decisions."

"It does matter to me, you know." Kate says, so quietly that for a moment she thinks he hasn't heard. He makes a soft noise of recognition and she closes her eyes even in the darkness, thinks through her words before she opens her mouth. "I guess I threw myself into the case today because I know I'm good at that. And I'm so scared of failing him. Letting both of you down."

"You won't fail him, Kate." Rick assures her, hissing when her feet accidentally brush his underneath the sheets. They're cold - her hands are too, always - and the shock of her touch has him wincing and grumbling into her ear.

"And you?"

"Not me either. It's only been two months. Every day, I'm amazed by how much of yourself you're willing to share with me. You're so different to the woman I first met." He sounds almost in awe of her and it makes her blush, half wanting to roll over just in case he somehow sees.

"You make it easy." Kate shrugs, gathering the courage to rest her palm against his chest. He goes still when she touches him, fingers spread wide over his chest, and for a moment she thinks maybe she's pushed him too far.

And then, so slowly, Rick's hand comes up and settles over hers, holding her in place. There are several long beats of silence, each of them hyperaware of the progress their fight seems to have nudged them towards but not daring to put words to it.

Somewhere above her head, she hears him swallow and she goes still, waits for him to speak. "I really thought I lost you. That I'd never get my wife back."

"You won't lose me." She assures him, a little startled herself by how desperately she means it. When the accident first happened there were moments when she thought I can't do this, when she wanted to run into her daddy's arms like a terrified child.

But now. . .now she can't imagine walking away. Can't imagine going back to how she used to be, closed off and so lonely. Rick Castle - her life with him - was a surprise, that's for sure. Something she never would have guessed for herself, way back in 2008.

No. She wouldn't have imagined a life like this, all that time ago. Didn't think it was possible for poor, damaged Katherine Beckett to bloom and flourish and not just survive but live. How surprised she has been to find that this is her reality.

And oh, how good it is too.