Another take on this episode - what if she was telling the truth? What if she really didn't remember?
Chapter 53: 4x1, Rise
I don't remember much of anything.
Her whole body is just limp, heavy, her arms like sandbags at her sides. Her hair is greasy and her face is oily and if she could just move, she would shower for days.
Kate's always loved her dad's cabin, but now her feelings are mixed. The drive up to the cabin sapped the energy she had. Now she's on the big cushy old sofa, watching impatiently as her dad carries her suitcase in. "Dad, you don't have to -"
"Shh. Katie. Let me get it."
She sighs, scrubbing her face with one hand. "I hate this, Dad."
He pauses, watching her thoughtfully, and then he surprises her. He sets the suitcase down and comes to sit with her on the sofa.
"Katie." He fixes her with the calm gaze, the one she knows so well. "I know it's frustrating. I know you're tired, and sore, and I know you want to be back to yourself. But just think how far you've come."
"I know. I just -"
"Now, I want you to listen." There's a sharp directness in his voice, something she wasn't expecting. "You cheated death, Katie. You got shot in front of me. I had to watch my only child dying." His eyes are glittering. "So don't you for one second forget how well you've recovered. I don't want you giving up."
Kate lets out a shaky breath. Her eyes are stinging. Her dad wraps his arms around her, in what seems like the thousandth hug since the moment she woke up in the hospital feeling like an anvil was crushing her chest.
That evening, she lies down in her old bed, staring out the window at the rich, colorful glow of the sunset, and she wants to sleep but she's still too tense.
She remembers bits of things, strange details like the cool grass tickling her face, the flowers at the plot next to Roy's. A family had walked past right before the service started, two parents with a little boy who couldn't have been more than five.
She never saw the shooter.
The rest of it is a blur and she doesn't mind the haze. What she does remember is pain. Shooting, burning, ripping pain. Shouting.
Voices, saying words, but she's not sure what was real and what her mind conjured up out of nothing.
Kate surprises herself; she's hungry the next morning, a healthy feeling, better than she's felt in a while.
As her father cracks eggs for omelets, she sips at her orange juice. She knows he doesn't want to relive that moment.
But she needs to know.
"Dad." She swallows. "That - day - "
He pauses, takes a deep breath, but keeps it together. "Yes?"
"Castle - he tried to knock me out of the way. I remember that."
"That's right."
"And - he stayed there?"
"He did." Her dad clears his throat. "Stayed with you till the paramedics came."
"Dad." Her fists knot in her lap. "Did you hear him say anything?"
"Say anything?" He frowns quizzically. "What do you mean? While - you were there?" She nods. "I don't think so. Did he say something?"
Kate takes a deep breath. "I don't know. I thought - maybe. I'm not sure if I heard it or not."
"Heard what?"
She looks down at her glass, her face getting warm.
"I don't know."
Something important.
Scary as a bullet, but in a different way.
The next day, she waits till she knows Lanie's off work to call her best friend.
"Kate Beckett. Girl. I'm so glad to hear from you. How's the cabin?"
"Too quiet."
Lanie laughs. "Course it is, city girl. How are you feeling?"
"Better. Still sore, but it's not so bad."
"Glad to hear it. I told you not to check out of the hospital early, though."
"I know, I know. You're always right."
"Damn straight." Lanie's got a note of something in her voice. Of course. She knows me too well. "Kate, are you really okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"Something's bothering you. I can hear it in your voice. Go ahead, spill."
Kate sighs. Lanie's tenacious. And she's not going to stop until Kate comes clean.
"It's about - the day I got shot."
"Oh." Lanie pauses, which isn't like her. "You want to talk about it?"
"It's not - it was right after, when Castle was there, when I was on the ground." Kate takes a long breath. "Lanie. I think - I think I heard -"
She stops. No. it's stupid to even say.
"What is it, Kate?" Lanie's voice is gentle. She knows this is something deep. Something important.
"He said he loved me."
There's a long pause.
"Oh, Kate."
"But I don't know. It's hazy. I don't know if he said it or I just imagined it. And I can't say anything, and I just -"
"Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"Not to make light of this, sweetie, but his being in love with you is basically the worst-kept secret ever."
"Lanie -"
"Hon, okay. I don't know. I didn't hear if he said anything. I wish I could help you. But Kate? There's only one person in the world who can answer your question."
"I know."
And he's giving her time. Because she said she wanted it.
She can't sleep.
It's warmer than usual, more humid this evening, and Kate rolls over a dozen times, stares out the window, tries to read, and finally just picks up her phone.
Castle's phone only rings once.
"Hello?"
She can tell she didn't wake him up, but she's at a loss for what exactly to say, so she goes with, "Sorry if I woke you."
"You didn't." He doesn't offer any other explanation. She hears background noise - a chime she knows is his laptop. Of course. He was writing. "I'm glad you called."
"How's the city?" Do you miss me?
"Hot. Loud. Normal." He lets out a noise that sounds like a chuckle. "Ryan and Espo are sick of me. They invented a new game called 'Run Away From Castle.'"
"I'm sure that's not true."
"No, they actually explained it to me. Basically every time I try to bother them, they -"
"- run away?"
"How'd you guess?"
Kate laughs. Something in her chest loosens. Not the physical pain. Some phantom ache she hadn't even realized she'd been holding onto since he walked out of her hospital room.
"Where are you, anyway?"
"My dad's cabin. Upstate."
"A cabin? Like a log one? Are there wolves? Are you wearing your hair in pigtails like Laura Ingalls?"
"It sounds like you're too excited about this."
"Is that a yes on the pigtails?"
It feels so good to laugh. Castle saying ridiculous things, just being Castle. She's missed it so much, the way his eyes sparkle, the way his whole face just opens up when he smiles because she's pretending she doesn't find him adorable.
She doesn't want him to worry. So she tells him about the cabin, the forest, the little pond she's planning to hike to once she's strong enough. "I wish I wasn't so cooped up. I'm going stir crazy here."
"At least it sounds pretty."
It's lonely.
Kate lets out a breath.
"It is. I'm just tired. You could - " she pauses - "you know, you could come out here. If you wanted to."
There's a beat, a moment of breath, and she wonders if he's trying to politely decline. Maybe that was too much. Too soon.
"You mean it?"
"Yeah."
It feels like forever, but then he speaks again.
"I'd like that."
To his credit, her dad seems perfectly nonplussed when she tells him Castle's coming out to the cabin. He just smiles, says it'll be nice to see Rick again, and heads out to get more groceries.
She's sitting on the little front porch, a worn copy of Persuasion lying open and forgotten on her lap, when finally she sees the little silver car winding up the narrow, rocky road.
Castle climbs out of the driver's side and she can't stop the smile from crossing her lips.
She would normally go out to meet him, but she's been sitting too long and she's sorer than usual. So she just sets her book aside, watching her partner come bounding up the path. His eyes are sparkling.
"Hi." Her heart rate is thrumming wildly in her chest, a rapid tattoo that fills her whole body with energy.
"You're looking well," he beams.
"I'm glad you could come."
"Are you kidding? An excuse to get out of the city? I wouldn't miss it." He grins. "I'm assuming you'll be sporting the pigtails and apron tomorrow?"
It's been so long since she laughed with him. Seen him laugh.
She's missed it.
Her father appears from the kitchen while she and Castle are sitting on the porch. "Rick! Son, great to see you. Thanks for coming out."
"Nice little place you've got here, Jim. Very pretty."
"Very kind, Rick. Now - Katie did warn you about the grizzly bears?"
"Ha. Funny." Castle laughs, but slowly stops when he sees Jim's not laughing with him. "Wait. No. There aren't bears out here. Are there?"
Kate shoots her dad a contrite look. "I forgot to mention it."
"What?"
"Well, it's not your fault, son. You didn't know. We'll have to burn your clothes to get rid of the smell."
Castle stares at her dad until Kate can't help but snort. "Castle. Your face."
Dad chuckles. "No grizzlies, son. Sorry. Couldn't resist."
Castle huffs. "I'm beginning to think two Becketts are the real danger here."
"Don't worry, Castle." Kate nudges him with her shoulder. "I'll protect you."
As much as she tries to hide it, Kate's fatigued by the time the sun sets. Castle seems to notice; he makes a production of yawning and explaining to her dad that he's tired from the trip. Dad doesn't say much, but his eyes are sparkling.
He helps her to her room as Castle gets settled on the couch and kisses her goodnight.
"Night, Dad."
"Sleep well, Katie." He grins. "Protective guy, that Rick. He cares about you."
Her face gets warm. "Dad -"
He holds up his hands. "Just saying."
In her room, Kate lies awake, trying to calm her jittery nerves. It's so quiet at night. Her thoughts seem louder. And now she's lying there thinking about the man sprawled on the couch, about what she thinks he might have said. Castle. How can I ask?
Eventually she drifts off. But sometime in the wee hours, she wakes up in a panic, her breath caught, her chest seizing, her whole body taut and sweaty. Shit. Shit.
It doesn't happen every night, but it still happens more than it should.
She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing in through her nose, and talks herself down. It's okay. It's the cabin. Dad's here. Castle's here. It'll be okay.
Her pulse is starting to slow, her body relaxing, and she's wishing she could just flip a switch and turn these panic attacks off forever, when there's a soft tap at her bedroom door. "Beckett? You awake? You okay?"
Kate swallows hard, scrubbing her face with her hands. "I'm fine, Castle. Sorry if I woke you."
There's a pause. She holds her breath, waiting for the creak of footsteps back towards the living room, the soft whoosh of the cushions as he lies back down.
"Is it okay if I come in?"
She should say no. She probably should. But then again, Dad's right down the hallway. It's not a big cabin.
"Yeah."
The door creaks open slowly and Castle pokes his head in, cautious, like he's afraid she doesn't really mean it. "I'm sorry for intruding."
"You're fine."
He stands there looking kind of uncomfortable, and Kate finally lets out a soft chuckle. "You can sit down, you know."
Of course, there are no chairs - it's a small room - so the only place for him to sit is her bed. He settles cautiously on the edge, facing her, and even as broken and tired and sore as she is, Kate finds herself biting back a crack about never thought it'd be this hard to get you into my bed, Castle.
"Are you really okay?"
The question catches her off guard, as much in its tone as in its words. His voice is soft, gentle, and in spite of herself, Kate can feel her throat getting tight. Because he may be asking, but he already knows the answer.
Castle's watching her. He's trying to be subtle, but she knows what he's thinking. He's wondering where this rag doll came from. He's not used to seeing her like this, and even in the darkness, Kate feels uncomfortably exposed.
The moonlight pouring through her window lends a softer glow to the humble room, silvering the unfinished boards and the plain old bedspread. The air between them seems lighter somehow. Thinner. Fainter. Everything is quiet, and in the cool night shadows, it feels like she can say things, ask questions, and somehow it won't count against her.
"Can I - can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
She swallows hard. "When I got shot -" she doesn't miss the flicker of pain that crosses his face - "I remember you. Trying to push me out of the way."
"I wasn't fast enough."
"It's not your fault," she whispers. This is the talk they didn't have in the hospital. She's regretted that tiny, quiet, horribly contained fight since that moment. She pushed him away and she's never, ever been able to figure out why she did it.
She was still smarting from that, a tightness in her sternum that morphine couldn't dull, an hour later when, after a fight she shouldn't have picked, she told Josh to leave and not come back.
"Castle - " she's so tired, so tired it's hard to get the words out - "it's - all kind of a blur. I don't remember much."
He doesn't say anything, but his face is very sober. Her eyes are stinging, her throat tight, and she can't fight it because she's sore and tired and she missed him. So much.
"Did you say something?"
His eyes get wide. "You remember that?"
"I don't know." She takes a slow breath. "I just remember fragments. And - I thought - I thought I heard you say something."
Talking - really talking - is as scary as any bullet. But she needs to know.
"Do you love me?"
His eyes go wide. "Kate?"
"I don't - Castle -" Her chest gets tight. This was a mistake. She shouldn't -
"Yes."
She catches her breath.
"What?"
Castle shrugs. "I love you. You're right. I said it."
Her ears are ringing, and she's oddly, uselessly aware of the dull ache in her chest. Which, till now, she'd thought was just from a bullet.
"I didn't really think it was a surprise, Kate." He gives her a rueful smile. "I'm pretty sure it's the world's worst-kept secret."
Kate can feel her heart rate creeping into a panicked tattoo, her whole body shaking, and she rests her forehead on her knees, counting her breaths like the physical therapist taught her. One. Two.
(Kate. I love you.)
She can feel his hand on her back, tracing gentle circles, and at this point he's seen enough to know just what a mess she is, so she just gives up and lets the tears well up in her eyes. This isn't what she wanted. Nothing is what she was hoping.
"Are you okay? Kate?"
Kate takes a long breath through her nose. He loves her. He's here.
"I love you."
The words slip out before she realizes it. She feels him freeze, his hand warm on her shoulder. "Kate?"
"Yeah." There's a warmth pouring through her veins, liquid heat spilling into her chest, and this strange, too-quiet night in a tiny room might be the first time she's breathed since spring. His eyes are locked on hers, and even in the darkness, it's mesmerizing.
As prosaic as his admission was, now that she's said it, he looks like he's not far from tears.
She puts her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and it's not really romantic, not poetic, because she's exhausted and sore and sweaty and her face is oily and she doesn't know what she's doing. But his palm curves over her jaw tenderly, and she lets out a breath and then she's kissing him.
It's so tentative, so soft. Almost chaste, just his lips on hers. His hands frame her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. It's too much.
She's still broken and sore and sweaty. But here, like this, if just for the moment, it's not so bad. He's here. And he loves her.
She wants to smile and cry and whatever else she can't think of.
He's strong, broad-shouldered, and she leans into him tiredly, enveloped in an embrace he's trying to keep gentle for her sake. She half-thinks this is a dream.
"Stay."
"But - your dad -"
"Castle."
"All right! All right. But you can't let him hurt me."
Castle obligingly curls up beside her in the small bed, letting her settle against him until her ribs are comfortable. Sleeping is still an issue, but she manages to stretch her body out without twisting her sore abdomen.
"Don't worry," she murmurs into his skin. "About Dad. Or grizzly bears."
He presses a soft kiss to the edge of her jaw. "My hero."