May 19, 2011
He had been home for no longer than five minutes when he received her text.
Cap needs help with something, not sure how long it will take. Will see you tomorrow x
He sighed heavily, tossing his phone onto the kitchen counter.
Of course, the captain needed her help. Of course, it would be something of the utmost importance and needed to be handled immediately, putting an end to their too short streak of spending each night together.
"Thanks, Roy," he muttered sarcastically as he pulled open the refrigerator door.
He was tired and grumpy, evidently, and nothing in the fridge seemed at all appealing. So, he opted to skip dinner and go straight to bed.
He picked up his phone, reading over her message as he walked toward his bedroom, again and again as if it were some code to decipher.
Cap needs help with something, not sure how long it will take.
Something about this just didn't sit right with him.
Not sure how long it will take.
Had Montgomery not given her any information when requesting her time? Not even enough a rough estimate of how much of it he would be needing?
That was kind of a big ask, given the hour. It was already late.
Which took him back to his earlier thought: why now? And why her?
She was a good cop, sure, but it was no secret that Montgomery favoured her.
They had a special relationship; one that went beyond the professional, beyond a mutual respect for one another. But it wasn't something that he ever questioned.
That wasn't like him. Why had he never questioned it?
Maybe because it benefitted him, too. Montgomery's oddly undefined relationship with Kate was, after all, the reason he was allowed to shadow her. They shifted the blame to the Mayor every chance they got, but Montgomery was the real puppet master here. For whatever reason, he saw Castle as a good thing for Beckett. So, no, Castle didn't ask questions. And something told him it would be wise not to start now.
He read over her message one more time, just to make sure nothing screamed I'm under duress, send help!
He was about to put it away, shut down that niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach that got obstreperous every time she wasn't with him, when the device began to vibrate in his hand.
The name appeared on the screen in large letters, accompanied by an image of the Twelfth Precinct insignia: Captain Montgomery.
His stomach dropped and that niggling feeling turned into all out dread, a sickening ache overwhelming him.
"Is Beckett okay?" he asked as soon as he answered the call - he had no time for pleasantries.
"I need you at the hanger," Montgomery ordered in a tone that Castle knew not to question, but he couldn't help it.
Why was she at the hangar?
Was Montgomery with her?
Was she in danger? Hurt?
His heart was racing, felt like it was creeping up his throat with every beat. He tried to swallow it back down to where it belonged, but he couldn't.
"Is she okay?" he repeated loudly.
Why wouldn't Montgomery just give him an answer?
"She will be, but you need to get here fast."
"What's goin-" he barely had the words out before the line cut out.
Castle arrived at the hangar in record time, breaking more than a few laws in order to do so.
As he pulled up behind the metal shed, he noted Kate's car was already there.
How did this happen? How did, in a matter of minutes, they go from Cap needs help with something to you need to get here, fast?
He entered through the side door, leading him into a small side room that was evidently used for storage. Navigating through boxes, he could hear voices talking.
He could feel the tension in the air as he lingered in the sidelines, listening.
He heard Kate's voice, measured, strong and steady.
"Did you kill my mother?"
His stomach churned, what the hell was going on?
"No, that was years later," a man answered. Castle recognised the voice as Montgomery, but his brain was struggling to compute what exactly was going on here. "But she died because of what we did that night."
Castle halted, the realisation hitting hard.
What we did that night.
Montgomery was the third cop.
He shook his head. Obviously there was some misunderstanding.
All this time, it was him?
All those years of working alongside Kate, watching her lose herself in this case, knowing all along.
He should have asked questions earlier.
"Then who killed her?"
He could hear the poorly disguised anger in Kate's voice. The seething venom bubbling within her.
All of her progress, all of the hard work they had both put into getting her to where she was, was in jeopardy.
Because beneath the venom was a scared girl of just nineteen, finally getting the answers she needed. He could hear the confusion, the desperation, the fragility.
"Give me a name," she demanded. "You owe me that, Roy."
Castle inched closer, still unable to see them. Please, for the love of God, do not give her a name.
She wasn't ready for that, not right now.
"No, Kate. I give you a name, I know you, you'll run straight at him. I might as well shoot you where you stand."
"That's why you brought me here, isn't it? To kill me?"
His chest tightened, breath faltered. Is that why they were here? Was Montgomery going to kill them, both of them? Silence the only two people who knew of his involvement? It could be easily done.
He crept through the door, trying to get a visual, but he couldn't do so while remaining hidden.
He moved away from obstruction and into plain view.
Kate's back was to him, but he had Montgomery in sight. His eyes drifted down, noting the pistol, the race of his heart kicking up a notch.
"No, I brought you here to lure them," he explained.
Montgomery looked every bit the broken, regretful man Castle now knew him to be. Tears filled his poignant eyes.
She was being used as bait.
Montgomery looked out across the tarmac. Castle's eyes followed the path until he found what had drawn the Captain's attention. In the distance, a car pulled up and cut the headlights.
It was them. He had no doubt in his mind. This was it, this was the end. And, as they stood right now, this wasn't going to end well.
"And now they're coming." Montgomery's voice broke. "I need you to leave. They're coming to kill you and I'm not going to let them. I'm going to end this."
Castle was filled with a deepened sense of urgency, seeing the car start its slow approach, barely visible in the darkness of the night.
He started to move toward Kate. He knew why he was called here now: to remove her from this situation, whatever it took.
"I'm not going anywhere, sir," she argued.
Stubborn, as ever. She was going to get them all killed.
Montgomery pulled his eyes from Kate, settling on Castle for only a second before returning to the distraught woman in front of him.
His mentee, someone Castle knew the captain had grown to care a great deal for, was a broken woman because of his mistakes. Montgomery's guilt was written all over his face.
"Yes, you are," he said firmly. "Castle, get her out of here."
Castle approached her cautiously, conflicted. He had an intense rage burning through his body, a rage he had never felt the likes of before.
But he also felt sorrow, guilt.
Montgomery's intentions were unmistakable: he was going to end this the only way he knew how.
"Captain, I –"
"Don't argue," Montgomery cut him off. "That's why I called you. Get her out of here, now!"
The captain's orders were clear: save her.
Castle reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged, pulling herself further away from him.
"Captain, please, just listen to me," she pleaded desperately. "You don't have to do this."
"Kate." Castle reached out again, but she shrugged him off again.
With her body turned toward him, she begged: "No, please! No."
She turned back to Montgomery. "Sir, I forgive you."
She was desperate: desperate to be heard, desperate to rewrite this ending, desperate to not have to say goodbye to another mentor, another friend.
The Captain shook his head, swallowed his fears.
"I forgive you!" she cried, her trembling voice betraying her as the words caught in her throat.
"This is my spot, Kate," Montgomery asserted. Kate paused, his words sparking recognition within her. "This is where I stand."
"No." She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes. "No!"
"Castle," Montgomery begged, help her!
But he didn't know how.
"No!" The break in her voice sucked the air from the room, making it hard to breathe. "No, sir, please listen to me!"
Castle's attention was pulled from Kate, his heartbreak temporarily put on hold when he noticed the car approaching the hangar at an increasing speed.
"You don't have to do this!" she tried to rationalise.
There was another way, surely. But they were running out of time.
They had seconds, at most, before Lockwood and his lackeys would be here. Seconds, at most, before they wiped out anyone standing in their way.
"Castle!" his attention snapped back to Montgomery. "Get her out of here, now!"
She extended her hand behind her, haphazardly keeping Castle at a distance.
"You don't have to do this, sir–"
Her pleas were cut short when Castle stepped up and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
They wouldn't be standing in Lockwood's way.
Pulling her back against him, he carried her toward the door he had entered through, using her flailing legs to push it wide open.
"No! God, Castle!" she cried, struggling to free herself. "Let me go!"
She fought against him as he carried her away from Montgomery and out of sight of the approaching vehicle.
"No! Let me go! Please!"
The desperation in her pleading weighed heavy on his heart.
He didn't want to be doing this, didn't want to leave Montgomery to try and fend off Lockwood alone.
But he didn't have a choice.
He knew it wasn't a fair fight, that there was no winning this.
He knew in his heart that this was goodbye, that Montgomery wasn't making it out of that hangar alive.
But he would do everything in his power to make sure she did.
Even if it killed him.
Even if she hated him for it.
With her arms pinned under his, her feet inches from touching the ground, she had no choice but to relent. She was too weak, too tired to continue to fight against him.
He pushed through another door, exiting the metal shed, and she hung her head back against his shoulder, freeing the pained cries that sat heavy in her chest.
The chilled night air burned in her lungs with each laboured inhale.
"Rick, please," she sobbed.
He lowered her feet to the ground and she took a few unsteady steps before instantly trying to get away from him, weakly pushing his hands from her body as she spun back toward the hangar.
He pushed her backward until she leant against the side of his car, gently pressing his body to hers. He was careful not to hurt her, but used enough force that she wouldn't be able to break free.
She collapsed against the car, the only thing keeping her upright was Castle's body against hers. Her cries grew louder, uncontrollable as the waves of emotion ripped through her entire body.
He feared that they would hear her, that her pain would give them away.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he brushed his fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry."
And he meant it, wholeheartedly.
But his best efforts to sooth her were not enough, as another wave had her shuddering beneath him, crying out, a pain he knew he had never known and would never comprehend fully. She had suffered so much loss.
He placed his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he repeated, again and again, his voice breaking a little with each repetition. He wished he could take away all the pain she carried with her each day.
She touched her fingertips to his face, wiping the drop of his own heartache that had spilled from his eye, sharing their pain, their burden.
A gunshot echoed through the air and her body tensed under his weight. Another shot rang out. Then another, and another. With each shot, her body tensed more.
He moved his hand from her mouth, pulling her head forward into his chest.
Another shot had her fisting the material of his shirt, shoulders shrugged uncomfortably high as she tried to bury herself away from it all.
And then there was silence.
Seconds passed, and nothing. Nothing more than her sobs and his shaky breath.
Her body relaxed in his arms and she slowly lifted her head, loosening her grasp on his shirt.
They waited, listening.
Another gunshot echoed and they both flinched, clinging to one another.
With that final shot, they knew it was over.
She was drawn toward the carnage, pushing past him as her legs began to move of their own accord. With each step, she upped her pace until she was running toward the hangar.
He stayed, stuck in one spot, for several seconds before he managed to swallow his fear and run after her.
He wasn't ready for whatever they were about to walk into, but he knew he couldn't leave her to face it alone.
Just a few steps behind her, he entered the hangar, spotting Montgomery's lifeless body not far from where they had left him.
He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath.
This was the final straw for her, and he knew it. She was too fragile for this, he should have protected her from it.
He opened his eyes again, watching as she dropped to her knees beside Montgomery's body, leaning over him and touching her forehead to his as she sobbed uncontrollably.
Castle walked toward her, slowly, allowing her those precious seconds of privacy. He wanted to comfort her, but he just didn't know how.
He reached out, placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to pull her away from Montgomery's body.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, pushing him away with the force of her entire body.
He took a few steps back, giving her some space.
She fell back to Montgomery's side, one hand cradling his, the other over her heart as she curled into herself as if she was trying to hide herself from the pain.
He could see it clearly: her pain and her anger were crushing her, her sorrow drowning her.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialled the only people he could think of.
"Yo, Castle, are you with Beckett?" he answered on the third ring, his voice a mix of angry and sad. "She's not answering her phone."
Castle stayed silent, watching as Kate continued to break.
"Castle, it's important," Esposito's harsh voice was pleasant in comparison to the scene he was watching. "It's Montgomery-"
"He's the third cop," Castle interrupted, finishing Esposito's sentence, his voice devoid of all emotion. "We are at the hangar. You and Ryan should get here as quick as possible."
He paused, Esposito's worried voice echoing through the phone speaker fading away into nothingness.
He didn't want to say the words, didn't want it to be real, but he had to warn them. He couldn't let them walk into this blind.
"Montgomery is dead."
By the time the boys arrived, she had shut down completely. Weak and exhausted, she just didn't have the energy for this, for anything.
She had given up.
Not that anyone could blame her.
She remained by Montgomery, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, hugging them as if her life depended on it. But she no longer looked at him. She wouldn't look at anyone, she just stared off into the distance.
She was covered in Montgomery's blood; on her hands, in her hair, a smudge across her face where she had wiped away her tears. He could see patches of her clothing, a darker shade of black than the rest, and he could only assume that too was Montgomery's blood.
He couldn't even begin to imagine how she must be feeling right now.
Betrayed, surely. Montgomery was one of the few she trusted entirely. And to find out he is, was, a part of this - a big part of this - Castle couldn't begin to understand what this meant for her.
Montgomery had known who was behind her mother's death the whole time and he let her run around in circles for years.
And then he talks about some bogus second chance, his goal to protect her, as if that justified his silence in any way.
Hell, Castle felt betrayed by this man. And he could see it in Ryan and Espo, too. They had all built up an image of this man, only to find out it was built on lies.
On the other hand, though, she had just lost yet another esteemed person in her life. Someone she considered a role model, a friend. Someone who had shaped her life so greatly had been taken from her so quickly. Everything she had ever known about him torn down in a single moment. The image she had of him, shredded completely.
Yet another wave had crashed over her head, and this time Castle wasn't sure she would find her way back to the surface.
"Kate..." He stood over her, holding out his hand.
He learned from before that it would be best to wait for her, to not force his way into her focus. She needed time.
She slowly turned her head, looked up at his hand with tired, hollow eyes.
"The boys have got this," he relayed their message to her. "Let me take you home."
She reached for his hand, tried pulling herself up but her limbs were weak.
He lowered himself slightly, placing his other hand under opposite elbow and pulling her, so that she didn't have to use as much energy.
She could barely function, the simple task of standing upright had her swaying.
"Are you right to walk?" he asked, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes but she turned away from him.
She took an unsteady step forward.
He stepped quickly, catching her before her legs had the chance to give way underneath her.
"I got you, it's okay."
With his hands at her waist, he led her to his car.
Not a word was exchanged on the drive back to her apartment. Not that he didn't have a million things he wanted to say, he did. He just didn't know where to start.
Even if he did have some idea, he knew any words would fall on deaf ears.
She hadn't so much as looked at him. The last time their eyes met was when she was pushing him away, yelling at him to not touch her. Since then, any look in his direction hadn't met his eyes but had fallen straight through him, as if he were a figment of imagination and not actually there to be seen.
Even as he guided her to the car - much in the same way he was now guiding her toward her building - she had been zoned out, like he didn't exist.
As they stepped out of the elevator and approached her door, he realised he hadn't thought this far ahead.
"Ah, do you-" He stopped her, turned so that he was facing her and tapped his hand to the pockets of her pants. "Do you have your keys?"
He hadn't thought to check her car, to grab anything she might be needing: bag, phone, keys.
"Kate." He cupped her face, forcing her attention to him. "Keys?"
She looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language.
"Keys," he repeated.
She pat her hand along her thigh and hips, searching herself as he had done, before pulling the key from her back pocket and passing it to him.
He unlocked the door, pushing it open, and for the first time in over an hour, she moved of her own accord.
She entered the apartment, slowly, scanning the surroundings as if they were unfamiliar to her.
He followed, sure to stay close by just in case she needed him.
Her eyes settled on the couch, and she seemingly had made her decision.
She began to walk toward the light grey fabric sofa and, as much as he wanted to give her this, as much as he wanted to let her flop into it and sleep the nightmare events of today away, he knew that he had to prioritise for her.
He took a quick few steps, overtaking her and blocking her path.
"Kate, you need to clean yourself up first," he urged, pulling her away from the couch.
She shook her head but words refused to follow. He could see her eyelids growing heavy, the energy draining from her body at an alarming rate.
He could see that she wasn't able to do this herself.
"Come on."
He positioned himself behind her, supporting her by her arms to guide her toward the bathroom. They fumbled with each step they took together, tired and uncoordinated, and when they finally reached the bathroom and he released her from his grasp, she slumped against the wall.
He stepped toward the shower, looking back over his shoulder to her. Maybe a shower wasn't the best option right now - not when she could barely hold herself upright.
He changed direction, walked over to the bath instead. He turned the faucet on, holding his hand under the stream of water as he adjusted the temperature.
He moved back to her, grabbing her hands and slowly pulling her away from the wall. He stepped back, taking small steps to ensure she could keep pace, bringing her closer to the tub. Moving his hands to her shoulders, he manoeuvred her until she was standing in front of the toilet, then lowered her slowly to sit on the closed lid.
He knelt in front of her and began removing her boots. She didn't say a word, just stared at the ground as he slowly undressed her. He reached up, his fingers slipped under the chain that held her mother's ring. As soon as he touched it, she grabbed his wrist, halting his movement. Her eyes pierced into him defensively as she clasped the ring in her closed fist.
"You want to leave it on?"
He backed off, leaning back on his haunches.
Her eyes softened as she released her grip on his wrist, nodding slowly.
"Okay, we can leave it on."
He shifted, knees digging into the cold tile beneath him as he positioned himself between her legs. He grabbed the hem of her shirt, it was cold and sticky, confirming his assumption that it had been soaked in blood.
"You ready?" he asked, and she nodded.
He lifted the shirt, pulling it over her head, exposing her torso, also sticky and stained. He tried to resist the urge, but he couldn't; his touch was drawn to the swell of life that grew within her. He touched his fingertips to the small patch of skin stained red from where Montgomery's blood had soaked through her shirt, silently thanking the universe that it wasn't her own and that the life underneath the marking had remained unharmed. He didn't want to think about how the events of this night could have played out.
With closed eyes, he tried to fight off the mental images of Kate lying beside Montgomery, bleeding out. He swallowed the fears that rose like bile in his throat, threatening to choke him.
He lowered his head, resting it in her lap. He focused on the taut skin under his fingertips, allowed the hope he held for their future to creep back in and smother every negative thought.
She was here with him, physically unharmed. Right now, that was all he would focus on.
Her fingers brushed through his hair. Her touch, comforting.
He looked up at her, her eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling unevenly from the cries she tried to hold back.
He cupped her cheek, supporting the weight of her head in his hand.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered, ignoring the heaviness he felt in his heart, the doubt that was smothering him.
He had no way to know that for sure, but he had to have faith that Montgomery had succeeded, that Montgomery had ended this for her. If he didn't have faith, he had nothing.
He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him, his hands gripping her arms to keep her steady.
Once he was sure she was stable enough to hold herself up his hands moved down her arms, making their way to her front.
He undid the button of her pants, slid them from her hips until they dropped to the ground, pooling at her feet. He held her waist as she stepped out of them, and he kicked them to the side.
He took a few steps back toward the bathtub, still holding her so she would follow.
He reached down, dipping his fingers into the water to test the temperature before turning off the faucet.
He stood upright again, turning his direction back to her. Her eyes hadn't left him, still hollow, burning into him. She had made no attempt to rid herself of her remaining clothing, no attempt to move toward the water that would cleanse her.
"I'm going to help you, okay?" He wiped her tears, waited for her to acknowledge him, but she didn't.
He reached around her back, fingers lingering by the clasp of her bra.
"If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?"
Her bottom lip trembled as she squeezed her eyes shut. After taking a sharp, shaky breath, she nodded.
He unhooked the clasp, slipping her bra off and tossing it aside before removing her underwear, too.
With his hands at her elbows, he pulled her closer to the edge of the tub, supporting her weight as she stepped in and lowered herself into the warming embrace of water and suds.
Immediately, she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. She turned her face away from him as she rested her head on her knees, her hair falling across her shoulder, saturating the ends as they hung in the water.
He watched as her body shook with the tears she was trying to hold back.
He stood, grabbed her loofah from the shelf in her shower, the body wash from beside it, before returning to his position by the tub.
He ran his fingers through her submerged hair, watching the crimson swirl of blood mingling and diluting into warm water until all pigmentation vanished from sight.
He added the familiar smelling vanilla bodywash to her loofah and began to massage the day from her skin, but with her body curled in on itself, there was only so much he could do for her.
The silence was unnerving, with nothing but the gentle lapping of water against her body and the sounds of her soft sobbing to fill it.
"Kate," he whispered, wiping slicked strands of hair from her temple. He wasn't sure if it was sweat, tears or bath water that had them clinging to her face. "Kate, can you look at me? Please?"
She hugged her legs tighter, letting out a heavy, shuddering breath.
"Can you talk to me?" he pleaded. "Just say something, anything at all."
He waited, giving her time: to gather words, to gather strength, whatever it was she needed. She didn't move, didn't say anything.
He had never felt such a deep sense of helplessness. He wanted to help her, to make everything alright again, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He just wanted to make this easier, but he didn't know how.
"Are you going to be okay alone for a few minutes while I sort some stuff out?"
He waited, again.
Seconds passed in silence before she nodded, still turned away from him.
He leant across the tub and pressed a kiss to the back of her head before leaving.
He made his way to her bedroom and began gathering some clothing for her. From her dresser he pulled a pair of sweatpants, a cotton tee and clean underwear.
He stared at the clothes he held, watching his hands tremble as he clutched the material. He needed her to say something, to tell him that she was okay.
He needed her.
His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, bringing him out of his trance. Shakily, he pulled it out, answering and pressing it to his ear without so much as glancing at the caller ID.
"Castle." His name fell from his mouth, a bitter aftertaste.
Castle! Get her out of here, Montgomery's voice echoed in his mind.
No! Castle, let me go!
He sucked in a shaky breath, trying to fight off the memories.
"Dad?" The worried voice grounded him, reinforced his wavering composure. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Pumpkin. I'm alright."
He leant his elbows on the dresser in front of him, using it to hold himself steady.
"What- uh, what's up?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain as steady as possible. "I thought you'd be in bed by now."
"You left in a rush before, I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I am. I, um," he paused, looked around the room. For what, he wasn't sure. "I'm going to stay with Beckett tonight but I, uh, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
He could hear the hesitation in her voice, the concern, the need for reassurance.
"Dad, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm okay." He smiled, knowing she wouldn't be able to see it, but hoping by some miracle she could feel it. "I love you."
"Love you, too, Dad."
The line cut off. His phone dropped to the dresser with a loud thud before slipping over the edge and onto the floor.
As his phone fell, so did his composure. He kept his weight balanced on the wooden drawers, hanging his head to rest on his wrists as tears began to fill his eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to keep the waterworks at bay.
He hurt: his head pounded, his throat was dry, his heart had shattered.
He wished he could just curl up in bed and go to sleep. In the morning, the sun would rise on a new day and he could convince himself this was nothing more than another bad dream.
A nightmare.
A sob escaped from him without permission, and he fought hard to regain himself before he passed the point of no return.
He stood upright, sucking in a deep, shaky breath, filling his lungs to capacity. He closed his eyes again, letting the breath out slowly.
He inhaled again, held the air in his lungs as he counted, then released. Again and again, until the heaviness in his chest was no longer as defined.
He picked up his phone, stuffing it back into his pocket before making his way back to the bathroom.
He placed them on the vanity, ready for her, before sitting on the cold tiles.
He knew she probably wanted some space right now, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave her.
He sat, watching, waiting for her to need him. That moment may never come, but if it did, he would be ready.
May 20, 2011 (9w2d)
He leant his forehead against the wood grain of her front door, taking a second to himself before opening the door.
They'd have questions, no doubt. Questions he wasn't sure if he could answer.
He stood upright, took a deep breath and scrubbed his hand across his forehead. Tucking away his own hurt, he pulled open the door.
"Come on in," he said, stepping aside to let Ryan and Esposito into Kate's apartment. He closed the door behind them before leading them to the lounge. "She's, uh, she's just getting herself cleaned up. She shouldn't be too long."
He looked toward the partially closed bathroom door: she had been in there too long now. The water would be cold, she would be starting to freeze, fingertips pruning.
He considered going back in there, checking in on her. He didn't want to hover, but he had never seen her shut down quite like this and, he couldn't lie, it scared him.
"How is she?" Ryan asked, his voice barely loud enough to pull Castle from his panicked thoughts.
He turned his attention back to the boys, trying to form the words he needed to answer. In all honesty, he didn't know.
"She hasn't said a word since we left the hangar," he informed them, his concern for her completely unmasked.
"What were you doing there?" Esposito asked.
Castle recognised the tone from the many interrogations he had observed. Esposito - much like Kate - was quick to don the emotional armour, to bury his grief under his cop persona. But he was hurting.
"Montgomery called me, told me to be there." He crossed his hands in his lap, trying to ease the compulsive urge to fidget. "She was already there when I arrived."
"Internal affairs took over the scene," Esposito began to explain. "She's going to have to give her statement. They'll probably call her first thing," he warned.
"What did you tell them?" Kate asked as she inched her way out of the seclusion of her bathroom, dressed in the clothes Castle had left her, wet hair drenching the collar and shoulders of her shirt.
Castle rose to his feet. The sound of her voice after too much silence was like music to his ears. He fought off the urge to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and hold her as long as she would allow. Her need to persevere was too evident to ignore.
"Kept it brief," Esposito told her, standing beside Castle. Ryan also stood, turning his attention to Beckett. "Received a call, caller was in distress and we weren't aware of what we were walking into."
Her eyes scanned their faces, trying to read their expressions.
"Good," she said, moving toward the group.
"Good?" Ryan repeated, questioning her statement. How was any of this good?
"No one outside this immediate family ever needs to know about this. As far as the world is concerned, Roy Montgomery died a hero."
"Beckett," he began to counter.
"We owe it to him," she cut off his protest. "All of us."
"He lied to you." Ryan's voice was shaky and barely audible. "How do you just forgive that?"
Her eyes dropped to the floor. She hadn't forgiven him, it wouldn't be that easy. She wanted to hate him - every fibre of her being wanted to hate him - but she couldn't.
Montgomery would have known this day was coming; the second he found her going over her mother's case file, all those years ago, he would have known that she might actually eventually find something. But he never tried to stop her. Every time she went down this rabbit hole, every time she opened old wounds and found herself digging around the case, he was there making sure she had whatever resources she needed.
He knew this day would come, sooner or later.
"He made a mistake."
"A mistake?" Esposito angrily repeated her absurd justification.
"A colossal mistake," she corrected herself in an attempt to appease the boys' apparent need for outrage. "And for the past decade he's been trying to right what he made wrong. He died trying to make it right."
"Aren't you angry?" Ryan asked, a tear escaping the duct of his right eye.
She let out a huff of air, a paradoxical laugh.
"Angry doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. What I'm sure we are all feeling."
She watched as Ryan tried to calm his emotion, swallowing hard and wiping frantically at the tears threatening to fall.
She knew she was asking a lot of them, too much. She stepped forward, pulling Ryan into her comforting embrace.
"Go home," she whispered as she squeezed him tight. His arms tightened around her in response.
"IA is going to want to talk to us all." She pulled away from Ryan. "We should all try to get a little sleep before then."
Castle didn't miss the flicker of her eye in his direction. She was still trying to avoid meeting his gaze.
He lingered as the boys said their goodbyes and left.
Once they were alone again, he approached her, determined to address the tension.
"Kate-"
"I'm tired, Castle." She cut him off, voice stern, eyes watering.
He had been so worried that she was shutting down but apparently she was just shutting him out.
He had stood in her way, stopped her from taking her stand by Montgomery's side. But didn't she see that he didn't have any other choice?
Anger flurried in his chest as his jaw clenched.
He tried to bite his tongue, to swallow his argument, but he wasn't ready to be painted as the bad guy.
"You know what? Be mad," he growled. "You're alive. I did the right thing."
He turned, ready to make his escape, too cowardly to face any sort of response from her. He couldn't handle her hating him, not right now, not when he needed her so desperately. Run, avoid, delay the inevitable - that was his plan, it's what they did best, right?
Her grip on his forearm stopped him in his tracks. She pulled gently, guiding him back toward her.
"You did the right thing," she assured him, locking her eyes to his. "I did the wrong thing."
He hadn't expected that. "What?"
"I promised-" Her sentence was cut short by the emotional break of her voice. She swallowed hard, trying to rid her throat of the lump forming within. "I never should have gone to the hangar. I just-"
She took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions, but she couldn't fight them off.
"You trusted Montgomery," he finished her thought for her, and she broke.
Tears fell, an impossible amount. Surely the well would run dry soon.
He pulled her into his arms, her face buried into his chest as she cried.
"I'm sorry, Castle," she said as she sucked in a breath. "I'm so sorry."
He held her close, brushed his fingers through her hair.
"Please, don't leave me."
"I'm not going anywhere." He pressed a kiss to her hair. "I promise."
