Her smile warms him, and after a night without sleep in a chilly hospital waiting room, he’s grateful for the warmth. He actually made her chuckle a few minutes ago, but her resulting gasp of pain and grimace have taught him better now. No funny business, just smiles. 

So they talk about what on earth she’s going to do with her 15 bouquets of flowers, the grumpy nurse who left a few minutes back, and the clown he saw in the ER on his way in here. Well, he talks and she nods, occasionally adding in a word or two. Sometimes when she smiles at him he swears she must have heard his declaration of love, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up so he continues to elaborate on the deranged clown.

He is in the middle of a sentence when her eyes clamp shut and she lets out a small gasp. He falters at the sudden sound, and looks up at her.


Her eyes pop open, and she gives him an innocent look.


“You okay?”

“Fine,” she gets out, but her jaw is clenched and she’s blinking fast, and damn, she doesn’t look fine. 

“And?” he presses.

“And a little tired." 

She looks it and he doesn’t doubt it, but he doesn’t let the matter go. 


But she doesn’t get to answer.

Her face screws up against her chest throbs once more.

He panics, and reaches for one of her white hands, which currently clasp the bedsheets with fervor. 

Instinct takes over and she grips back without hesitance.

She doesn’t cry, or even whimper, but she doesn’t speak either. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You have to breathe, you know,” he reminds her gently. 

The breath she was holding comes out with a puff, but she sucks back in almost instantly.

After a few minutes of drawing calming circles on her thigh, he realizes that her grip has slackened tad and her breathing has evened.

“Better? he whispers.

"Mmmm.” Her eyes blink open and she glances over at him sheepishly. “Sorry.”


She shrugs.

“Comes in waves,” she answers, avoiding the question.

He nods dumbly, the glassy sheen in front of her eyes reminding him yet again of what she’s been through today.

“Thanks,” she adds.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I mean, of course." 

Her comment about waves hits him, and he realizes with a pang that she must have been lying awake for some time before he got here, dealing with the pain alone. Where is Josh? He was here before she got out of surgery; he has a bruise on his chest to prove it. And where are the nurses? Surely if she’s struggling this much she should be on more meds. After all, she just got out of a major surgery. 

"Uh, Beckett?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is soft and strained.

He doesn’t even hesitate, just reaches up and stabs the button that calls the nurse.

There was some light protesting, but in the end she lets the nurse up her dosage. In minutes, she’s relaxed and drifting off. 

He’s got one hand entwined with hers, the other on her thigh, and his eyes on her chest as it rises and falls in a steady rhythm when he walks in on them. Josh.

His heart quickens and he stands hurriedly, feeling both guilty and protective at the same time. 

Kate, who doesn’t seem to have heard the door, stirs lightly with a moan that draws both men’s eyes. He must have jostled her when he stood.

Her hand tightens slightly around his own, and his eyes flicker downwards at the movement. Josh follows his gaze, and if he didn’t already look mad, he does now. 

But before either man gets a chance to talk, Kate cuts in with a sleepy drawl.

“Don’t- don’t leave." 

His eyes meet Josh’s.

"Please Castle?” she pleads, her voice barely a whisper. 

He can’t remember her ever saying please, but she’s begging him to stay now. His heart burns, and he swallows the lump in his throat, prepared to tell Josh that he isn’t going anywhere. That he can't go anywhere.

But Josh is already shaking his head and turning around and shoving the door back open. And then he’s gone.

Castle settles back into the chair at Kate’s side, hoping that he’s seen the last of Josh. He knows the guy has never been a fan of his partnership with Kate, but he didn’t expect him to just walk out without a fight. Then again, he’s never been a fan of the way Josh treats his Kate. 

His Kate? Well his mind certainly seems to think that Josh is gone. Oh, what a beautiful blessing it would be to be able to love Kate freely.

He glances over at the heart-rate monitor, and gets lost in the repeatedly spiking line. He’s glad that she is able to sleep, but he cant shake the way her unconsciousness reminds him of the way she laid motionless and bleeding out in his arms just a few hours ago.

A tear slips out. He’s so stupidly in love with her. Does she even know?

She’s alone in bed for the first time in weeks. Her body writhes, muscles clenched in agony and it’s all she can do not scream out.

She couldn’t even stay with the police long enough for them to put out the car. It hurt too much. They had taken her back to the beach house and she had staggered up the stairs towards their room, blindly hoping that by some miracle he would be there waiting for her, just like he always was. Just like he had promised he would be. She had tripped over the white gown she had yet to remove and landed at the foot of the bed. Scrambling to the top of it, her fumbling limbs had found his pillow. But to her horror, she had found no trace of his scent. It had been so long since they had come here, to this house. The sheets were clean. No wisp of his cologne, no smell of his shampoo, no trace of him.

And it was then that she had broken completely, the snap that led her from numb disbelief to this moment: atop their bed, on their wedding night, all alone. The tears stream without pause but it does no good. The shudders and gasps come but though they do not leave room for air, they do not stifle the pain. The agony. The man that saved her in more ways than she could count couldn’t save himself. 

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Castle suspects that kate is pregnant and ask her

The first time it happens, she’s standing over a body at a crime scene, after a perfectly normal morning, when it hits her: the wave of nausea crashing into her unsuspecting stomach swiftly. Her eyes bulge with realization that she needs to get out of here and now. 

Five minutes later, Castle is standing next to her, leaned up against a wall around the corner from the scene. He’s talking of saltine crackers and how she should have eaten breakfast this morning, and if she thought she could open her mouth without feeling even worse, she’d be fighting back.

The second time it happens, it’s later that day when she dashes for the precinct bathroom. He doesn’t notice, but when he hands her a coffee mug five minutes later and she cringes and doesn’t take it, he knows. He gets straight to the point.

“Kate did you get sick again?”

She huffs but doesn’t answer, as though sickness is beneath her. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being sick,” he chides, reading her perfectly.

“I am not sick. I don’t get sick.”

"Okay well if you’re not sick, then what do you propose is wrong with you?”

"It’s probably just something I ate.”

“All you had this morning was coffee.”

She glares. She’s always grumpy when she’s sick. And yes, she does get sick sometimes, no matter what she says.

“I don’t know maybe it was the milk.”

His nod and pause follow, and she just begins to think that the conversation is over when he starts again.

“Okay so you’re not sick, then.”


"And since I’m pretty sure they have regulations on the milk thing in coffee shops, I don’t that was it either.”

“What’re you getting at, Castle?”

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there leaning on the arm he’s got placed on the edge of her desk. He’s got this self satisfied smirk plastered on his face, and there’s this weird twinkle in his eyes. She realizes that he’s gotten to some kind of realization that she must be missing. And that’s frustrating because he’s not the one who’s paid to notice things and-

Her head whips around.


"No what?” He

“I know what you’re thinking and that’s not it.”

“How you know you’re not-”

“Don’t say the "p” word.“

"What about-”

“Or the "b” word.“


“Are you sure?”

She hesitates. And in that moment, he pounces. 

“You’re not sure?”

She groans, stands, grabs her purse, turns on her heel, and stalks toward the elevator. Naturally, he grins and follows. He’s taking the woman to a drug store if he has to drag her there.

"We’re going home.” She says it like it’s final. 

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m sick.”


They’re spinning around the dance floor when she grips their already entwined hands and pulls. Hard. She’s off, stringing him along behind her, giggling while he does his best not to step on her train as it trails behind her and over the grass. She uses her other hand to grab as much of the flowing white tool as possible, before breaking into a steady jog, which is quite an accomplishment considering the whole ensemble she’s got going on.

His whole being is so free, so ecstatically happy, that he doesn’t even care where she’s going, as long as he can come too. He’s so busy being caught up in the way her hair bounces in the wind, the way she her laugh resonates into the air, that he almost runs into her when his feet unexpectedly find sand. 

They stop and stand side by side, pawing at the sand with their toes.

“I love the beach,” she whispers.


“Mmmm. You know, it’s just so peaceful. And reliable. And infinite. Like… like us, you know?”

When he starts making gagging noises instead of answering, she looks over. He’s making fun of her. The king of dragging on the fluffy relationship scenes in his books is making fun of her.

“Castle,” she barks as she slaps his arm.

He breaks into a smile and chuckles to the point of a wheeze.

The streak of anger leaves her fast. She’s too happy right now to be mad at him, and the way his eyes wrinkle when he laughs just makes her want to smile too.

Castle,” she whines.

He whips her into a backwards hug and crushes her against his chest.

“My Katherine Beckett, the sap.”

“I’m not allowed to be sappy on our wedding day? You’re a sap everyday of the week.” She’s scolding him now, and it feels oddly right because it’s just so them. The waves crash before them and she quiets before continuing, “And it’s Castle.”


“Katherine Castle.”


He spins her again so they’re facing each other.

“Really?” he asks again.

His eyes glisten and yep, he’s back to being the sappy one again. This is the third time he’s cried today and he cannot find it in himself to care.

“Yes,” she breaths, threading her hands around his neck and leaning in. “Castle you saved me and I could not be any more happy to be your wife and to take your name.”

Okay well now he’s crying.

“I love you Kate. So damn much.”

“Love you too Castle.”