May 21 (9w3d)

She strolled aimlessly through the park for a while, knowing she was far earlier than necessary.

She had woken before the sun, tossed and turned for almost an hour before deciding that trying to get back to sleep would be a worthless exercise. Not wanting to wake Castle, she snuck out of the loft, opting to shower and ready herself for the day in her own apartment.

But even with that detour, she had almost a half hour of time to fill in. The drive from the city usually took around forty-five minutes, but she caught minimal traffic on the way and has arrived in just a little more than thirty.

The golden rays of sunshine that peaked through the tree tops warmed her face. Summer was creeping in slowly and soon enough the morning breeze would lose the last traces of its springtime freshness. She inhaled deeply, savouring the tranquillity that the inner-city parks lacked, even in the early hour of the morning.

She walked one of the jogging routes - part of it, anyway - until she came across a coffee cart. Checking her watch, she decided that enough time had passed and, if she bought coffees now, they should still be hot by the time her father arrived.

With two freshly-made coffees in hand, she made her way to the field that they had agreed to meet at. She sat at a bench, sipping on her decaf while she watched the early morning joggers pass by one by one.

It started off fine - half a dozen people passing her over the span of several minutes - but as the morning crowds began to roll in, each new stranger in the vicinity felt like a looming threat.

She hadn't expected her anxieties to creep back in; slowly at first, and then all at once. She could feel her heartbeat quickening, the gentle ba-boom in her chest now resembled something more akin to a herd of galloping Mustangs. She looked down to her hands, watched as the cardboard cups seemed to vibrate in her grasp.

She breathed out, shakily. "No," she whispered to herself. "No, no, no."

She inhaled. Hold for five seconds, she instructed herself, but she couldn't.

One... two... three... and her lungs were screaming to release.

She puffed out the air, sucking in another breath instantly. It was sharp, shaky and entirely ineffective, triggering another and another, until she was on the verge of hyperventilation.

She cricked her neck, the air under her collar suddenly feeling about a hundred degrees too hot. The light cardigan she had worn now felt heavier than a thick winter coat.

She rose to her feet, striding toward the trash can mounted just a few yards down the pathway. She tossed both cups into the trash, shrugging the cardigan from her shoulders as soon as her hands were freed.

Overwhelmed, it took more energy than she would care to admit just to stop herself from crying. She tucked her cardigan under her arm and scrubbed her trembling hands over her face.

The world around her began to fade away as the steady beat and whoosh of blood rushing through her ears became the only noise.

She focused on her breathing again, put the effort into forcing each breath to slow. In and out, hold for three, for five, and eventually for ten.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before his voice broke through her barrier.

"Katie!" She heard him call from some distance away.

She turned, following the sound of his voice.

The smile on his face as he approached was the motivation she needed to pull herself together. She forced a smile as she rushed toward him.

"Hey, Dad."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

It was exactly what she needed, a security blanket of sorts. As he held her, her body calmed.


She replaced the coffees that had been sacrificed during her panic. She purposefully avoided the vendor she had originally purchased them from, not wanting to risk the possible back for more conversation and have to explain to her father what had happened just before he arrived.

He worried about her enough, he didn't need to know that she wasn't exactly emotionally sound right now.

Once they had their beverages, they began their leisurely stroll through the park, and she began to fill him in on the events of the past few days.

Jim stayed quiet as she spoke, allowed her to get everything out. He understood her struggle with these things, understood that her mind could be chaotic and that sometimes she just needed a minute or two to gather the words she needed.

She had always assumed that his mind was very much the same.

She told him everything, knowing that she would never forgive herself for giving him anything less than the whole truth.

"I let her down," she thought aloud, a succinct summary of the more dominant thoughts amongst the chaos of her mind.

"Don't say that," he warned, his voice harsh with emotion. He placed his hand on her forearm, effectively ending their stroll. "Don't you ever say that."

"My captain is dead and he took the only lead I had with him." It was cold, but it was true. "There's a good chance I will never find out who was behind her murder."

"That's not your job-"

"Finding murderers is quite literally my job, Dad." She forced a weak laugh through the pain that filled her.

She had never been resentful of the fact that she had brought closure to so many other families, until now. But she just didn't have the strength to fight it off anymore. Her eyes began to cloud.

"You were just a kid," he reminded her, trying to ease her conscience.

"I was nineteen."

"Just a kid," he repeated, hoping his message would sink in.

Nineteen was too young. Too young to have her world turned upside down, too young to have to learn to live with such pain, too young to have been let down by the detectives that had been intrusted to solve this case. Too young to take on the responsibility of doing what they had not.

And far too young to have been let down by the only parent she had left.

"The case had been cold for a decade, but you found him. You found the man that took her from us and you stopped him. And for that, I know that she would be so proud of you."

She wiped her tears before they had the chance to fall. She may not fully believe it, but hearing the words spoken out loud meant everything to her right now.

"I'm proud of you, too, just so you know." He smiled and held his arms open.

She stepped toward him, into his comforting embrace.

"I don't know if I can do it," she said softly.

"Do what?"

"Move on," she answered honestly. "I don't know if I can go to the funeral, look his family in the eye and act like I'm not... angry and hurt."

Jim pulled back so that he could look into his daughter's eyes. "Then don't."

"It'll look bad if I don't go. The whole precinct will be there."

"I can go with you," he offered. "Pay my respects to the man who laid down his life to protect my daughter."

"Out of guilt."

"I don't care why he did it. You're here, safe and sound. Nothing else matters now. Not to me."

She wished it could be that easy for her, too. She wished she could see Montgomery's final act of selflessness as something more than a guilty man paying for the choices he made, but she was too clouded by hurt.

"Just think about it, okay? I'm here for you if you need me."


She had left the park feeling conflicted.

Telling her father about Montgomery had felt like too much and yet, at the same time, not even close to enough. Like trying to convince them both that this was over, with no sense of closure at all. And yet he accepted it, with gratitude. Something she was trying so desperately to be able to do.

She was starting to question her commitment to this charade, the charade she had convinced everybody else to go along with.

There was a fury inside of her that wanted to recant, that wanted the world to know of Montgomery's betrayal, of the lie he had lived.

She wanted justice: for her mom, for herself, for everyone who had been dragged into this, hurt by this. But Montgomery was dead. She couldn't hurt him like he had hurt her. Only his family, and they didn't deserve that.

Another part of her - the bigger part, she hoped - missed him already. Over the years he had become so much more to her than a colleague, a superior. He was a mentor, a friend, a confidante. She wanted, more than anything, for those good memories to remain intact, untouched by her current sadness. She knew she was going to have to fight for that.

She knocked on the door in front of her; the hard wood entrance to her new safe haven, a place where none of the negativity of the outside world could reach her.

"Hey," Castle greeted with a smile as soon as he opened the door.

She stepped forward, wordlessly, falling into him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

His arms encased her, pressing her securely into his body.

She buried her face in his shirt; his scent, his warmth, the gentle hum of his voice as he tried to sooth her, all worked together to erase every last fragment of chaos in her mind.

"Everything okay?" he asked, quietly.

His fingers combed through her hair, massaging her scalp.

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she nodded, tightening her arms around him.

"You sure?"

She could hear the concern in his voice.

"I just missed you," she assured him, pulling away and offering a small, reassuring smile.

He wasn't entirely convinced, but didn't want to push too far. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I missed you, too." He placed his forefinger under her chin, guiding her closer and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "You left early this morning," he commented, pulling from her embrace to close the front door.

"Uh, yeah. I wanted to catch Dad before he started work," she explained as she walked further into the loft.

He moved behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the kitchen. As she took a seat on one of the counter stools, he dropped his hand and kept on his path into the kitchen.

"Did you have breakfast?"

She shook her head, no.

He held up a pack of bagels, eyebrows arched in silent question.

"No, thank you," she answered the unspoken question, but apparently not correctly.

He shook his head, scowling as he pulled two bagels from the pack and popping them into the toaster.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and placed it on the countertop, needing it to be visible as she awaited a call from IA, informing her of her future. She knew she probably wouldn't hear from them yet, but she felt more comfortable with her phone in sight, just in case.

"How is Jim?" Castle asked as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing the necessary items for their breakfast.

"He says hello," she said with narrow eyes. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"This seems like a lose-lose situation for me, so I'm just going to go make myself a coffee. Would you like one?"

She rolled her eyes at his avoidance. "No thanks."

Castle busied himself with the task at hand, scooping out perfectly measured amounts of several different types of coffee grounds, making his own unique blend. It was obvious he did not want to discuss the past interactions between her father and himself but, for once, she was the one who just couldn't leave it be.

"My dad still feels like he needs to protect me," she said, starting the conversation he was trying to avoid.

"It's only natural that we want to protect the people we love from the bad in the world," he justified with a shrug.

"I'm not mad at him for it," she clarified. "I just... he didn't have to go behind my back, you know?"

He stopped what he was doing, moving his attention to her. "What would you have said if he had been the one to ask you to take a step back?"

They locked eyes. She didn't have to answer, they both knew exactly what she would have said.

I'm fine.

I've got this.

You don't have to worry about me.

The usual rhetoric that no one actually believed.

She looked down, locked her eyes to the countertop in front of her, desperately trying to avoid his steely gaze.

In front of her, a single crumb captured and held her attention for the longest time, while Castle went back to preparing his coffee.

"Seriously, though; is everything okay?" he asked once he had started up the machine. "You seem... deflated."

She pushed the crumb along the countertop with her nail, focusing on the long, slow scratching sound that was barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine whirring.

Exhausted - that was the word she would have used - both mentally and physically.

She could feel his presence looming on the other side of the kitchen island. Looming, but not in a threatening way. She felt safe.

"I think I had a panic attack," she confessed, looking up to gauge his reaction.

He tensed, visibly. "What? When? Are you alright?"

The questions came at rapid-fire pace. His concern for her was heart-warming, to say the least.

"In the park, before Dad arrived. Everything was fine, I was waiting by the benches and then all of a sudden it-" She thought back to the moment it hit, trying to find the words to describe what she had experienced. "-it was like I couldn't breathe."

Couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could barely move.

"Are you okay now?" he repeated.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled to reassure him. "It passed pretty quick and I felt fine while Dad and I were walking through the park."

She was fine. Now. But in the moment, she was so scared.

"I just, I don't know, it came on so suddenly. It was horrible, I felt-" She looked down to her fidgeting hands, picking at her fingernail. "-I felt like I was dying."

She didn't know how else to describe it, nothing else felt accurate.

"All I wanted was to be here, with you." She ended her confession, fighting back the seemingly unlimited supply of tears.

He rounded the counter, pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'm glad you're here now," he whispered into her hair.

He understood, even without her explicitly saying so, that this was a monumental step for her. Coming to him when she was scared, allowing herself to need someone instead of retreating into solitude, was unfamiliar to her. And yet, here she was, confessing her vulnerabilities to him because she trusted him entirely.

He had been afraid that Montgomery's death, that the revelation of his role in what became the darkest parts of her life would catapult her in the opposite direction, would cause her to spiral and hide from him, from the world. It would be naïve of him to think she hadn't considered it, and he knew better than that. But that knowledge made her presence here - in the loft, in his arms - all the more significant.

He pulled back, looked into her tear-clouded eyes.

"Kate-"

The two bagels popped up in the toaster, and they both looked toward the appliance silently cursing the interruption.

He looked back at her, tucked her hair behind her ear and offered a small smile.

"You should eat something."

She nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her around the bench. Despite her total lack of appetite, she would eat for him.

She knew that, between her lack of appetite and being sick, she was barely getting the calories the baby needed. Now was not the time to let her control issues bleed out into her diet.

He dropped her hand, only when he had to. After grabbing two plates from the overhead cabinet, he placed a bagel on each and passed one plate back to her.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they prepared their food. Castle spread a generous layer of peanut butter on both bagels as Kate sliced up a banana.

"You ever eat the peanut butter straight out of the jar?" Castle asked as he dug a spoon into the jar in his hands.

"No," she said with a laugh.

He dropped his smile, glaring playfully at her. "Never?" He didn't believe her, not for a second. "Everyone has done it at least once," he claimed.

"Okay." She smiled, looking at him through the corner of her eye. "Maybe once."

He gasped dramatically. "Disgusting!" he joked.

"You just said everyone has done it!"

"Everyone except for me," he said proudly. "It's unhygienic."

"I've seen you squeeze whipped cream, straight from the can, into your mouth. I don't believe you."

She grabbed the spoon from the jar and scooped out a small amount of the peanut butter.

"Try it." She held the spoon between them.

"I have it on my bagel."

"It's better by itself," she insisted.

He shook his head. "Add banana slices and honey, that's my idea of delicious."

"Come on, Castle. You know you want to."

He turned his body so that he was facing her and she could see the playful glint in his eyes. He grabbed the spoon from her, slowly bringing it toward his mouth.

He took her by surprise when he twisted the spoon between his fingers, turning it to face her and quickly swiping the dollop of butter across her nose.

"Castle!"

She swiped her fingers across her face, wiping the spread from her skin before launching herself into action and trying to wipe it onto Castle.

She managed to swipe her sticky finger across his chin before he grabbed her wrists and held them away. She struggled against him, determined to get him back, but she started laughing so much that she couldn't focus properly.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed through his laughter as he backed himself against the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry! I surrender!"

She stopped fighting, stopped resisting against his pushing her away, and took a step back. He followed her lead, stopped pushing but didn't release his hold on her wrists.

He stared into her eyes, cherishing the pure joy he saw there.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, the words falling from his lips without thought.

But he wanted her to know that. He wanted her to know that she was the most extraordinary woman he had ever met and that her smile was his favourite thing ever.

She leaned forward, closing her lips over his.

She kissed him slowly, tenderly, in a way that would never be forgotten. Never before had a kiss felt so... ethereal.

He dropped his hands from her wrists, searching out more contact. One gripped at her waist, pulling her into him as the other climbed, curving around her neck as his thumb brushed delicately against her jawline.

She moaned, melting into his touch.

Across the kitchen, her phone began to vibrate against the countertop, the ringtone echoing out soon after.

"Are you kidding me?" Castle groaned, his mouth still pressed to Kate's.

She laughed as she stepped away from him.

"Can you grab that for me, please?" she asked, holding up her sticky hands.

She moved to the sink and pushed her wrist against the tap to turn it on.

Castle rushed toward her phone to grab it before it rang out, his sense of urgency fuelled by the knowledge that she was awaiting a call from the Internal Affairs investigators, but his pace slowed when he saw the familiar face lighting up the screen.

"It's, uh- it's Josh," he said, lifting the phone from the bench, holding it so that she could see the screen.

She dried her hands on the tea towel before taking the phone from him. She stared at it for a moment, unsure if she was ready for this conversation.

"You want some privacy?" Castle asked, bringing her attention away from the small screen.

Did she want privacy? Or did she need him here, need him as moral support, need him to keep her from the cowardice that had crept in the last time she attempted this?

She shook her head - no, she didn't want privacy.

She pushed the answer button before she could fully convince herself to just let the call ring out. It was now or never.

She forced a smile as she held the phone to her ear. "Hey, Josh."

Castle watched as she donned her armour. He watched as she listened to whatever Josh was saying on the other end of the line. He could hear the droning of Josh's voice through the speaker, but wasn't close enough to actually make out any words. Judging from the smile still plastered on Kate's face, one could assume the conversation was off to a relatively pleasant start.

He tried to ignore the frustration that invoked, reminding himself that he wanted this to go well. She needed this to go well.

He grabbed some paper towel and began to clean the peanut butter off his face.

Kate moved around the kitchen island, returning to the stool she had been sitting in before.

"Sorry I didn't get back to you earlier," Josh's voice sounded directly into her ear. "I've been working crazy hours. I got your message while at work and I fully intended on calling you as soon as I finished but I got home and just crashed."

"Yeah, that's- I understand what it's like, there's no need to apologise," she assured him.

There was a short silence, a hesitation from him, that filled her with anxiety. She could feel the shift: the small-talk portion of this phone call was over. It felt entirely too soon.

"Kate, I-" He stopped again and she could almost feel his nervousness through the phone. "I saw on the news... about Montgomery."

The compassion in his voice almost broke her. Just months ago it would have. She would have fallen into his arms, cried until she had no tears left to cry.

He was safe, he cared, he understood how hard she fought to keep it inside and he never made her feel like that was the wrong thing to do, he just offered her somewhere safe to let it all out when she needed, when she was ready.

She looked at the man who offered her that now, with tears in her eyes. It was hard to believe how much had changed for her in such a short amount of time.

"I'm fine," she said softly, swallowing the emotion that had settled heavy in her throat. "I was just hoping that we could talk."

"Yeah, of course we can."

"Can we, uh, can we meet somewhere?" she asked nervously, gauging Castle's reaction to her request. He didn't so much as bat an eyelid.

"Is something wrong?"

She could hear the change in his voice. He knew.

"No," she answered, too quickly. "I just, I'd rather talk face to face, you know?"

Silence lingered, again. Seconds passed impossibly slow.

"Josh?"

"You said you needed time, so I gave you that."

There was no anger in his voice, and that made his words hit harder. She had already known that she had messed up, made everything worse than it had to be, but his disappointment was like a knife to the heart.

"If you're done..." His voice trailed off, but she knew he wasn't finished, so she waited. "If there was nothing left to fight for, you should have just been honest."

"It's not that simple. I'm sorry, I just- please?"

"I don't need the courtesy of a face-to-face rejection," he said, bitterly. "I don't need to see the pity in your eyes when you tell me you're choosing him. All I needed was the truth, Kate."

The truth, if only it were that easy.

"You could have at least given me that instead of letting me think you wanted this, too."

She knew she was going to have to do this now, going to have to rip the band-aid and lay it all out there for him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but he didn't say anything. "Josh, I'm pregnant."

The line was silent.

"Josh?"

She pulled the phone from her ear, checking the screen; call ended.

She sighed, closed her eyes and hung her head low.

"Fuck," she groaned as she scrubbed her hand over her face.

"He hung up on you?" Castle asked, a defensive anger seething in his words.

She shrugged. "I think he hung up before I told him. That was a disaster," she complained, straightening her posture and taking a deep, calming breath.

Castle shrugged. "Or..."

She turned in the stool so that she was facing him. "If you can see the silver lining here, please share."

"Well, you wanted a clean cut, right? You wanted him to know that things were definitely over. I think it's safe to say he knows now."

She narrowed her eyes at him. His silver lining didn't make her feel any better.

"And, now, you can wait for the test results without having to feel like you're keeping this from him. You tried, he didn't want to provide you the opportunity to tell him. You're off the hook. You might never have to tell him."

She eased her glare, took a deep breath.

"I still feel like a shitty person," she moaned, although his logic did make her feel slightly better.

"It'll pass." He stepped closer, wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I promise."

She weaved her arms under his, wrapping them around his waist and leaning into him.

"I had an idea, but I wanted to run it by you first," Castle said after a few minutes of silence.

She leant back, looking up to gauge his expression, trying to get some sort of read on where this could be headed.

"Mm," she hummed, appropriately cautious.

"Don't be so quick to assume it's something bad," he accused, and she simply smiled in response. "I was just thinking that it might be nice for everyone to get together for dinner tomorrow night."

She didn't need him to clarify who everyone was.

For a brief moment, she wanted to say no. She was already less alone than she wanted to be, being in the loft with Martha and Alexis coming and going in addition to Castle's more permanent presence.

But she knew how healing it could be to share in your sorrows, to grieve alongside those you love, those who are grieving too. And the idea of the team being together before the funeral - dinner, easy company, no expectations to be anything more than together - she liked that idea.

"Here, at the loft?"

He nodded his confirmation, assuming the loft would be most comfortable for everyone.

"Yeah, I think that would be nice."

"Good, because I already talked to Lanie-"

She shook her head and let out a huff of air. "I should have known this was a Lanie idea."

"She thought that you might not be comfortable with everyone being here while you're staying here."

Kate smiled. "I'm okay with that."

"Yeah?"

"I mean, unless you were planning on keeping me your dirty little secret..."

He shook his head. "Never."

He pressed a quick peck to her lips before reaching across the counter, grabbing her plate and dragging it until it sat in front of her.

"Eat," he instructed. "I have a big day of relaxing planned for us both. You'll need your energy."

"Yeah, sounds like it," she said with a smile and a playful roll of her eyes.