The Path to Recovery

Set on the Fourth of July, this is one possible look at Castle and Kate's summer so far, following the season three finale.

I own nothing except my deep and abiding love of this show.

Kate made exactly one trip from the patio to the kitchen, carrying nothing more than a mostly empty bowl of potato salad, when Castle lifted it from her hands and pointed back to the porch with a slight smile that left her rolling her eyes. Though wordless, his message was clear: Go sit down.

Sighing with the frustration of feeling utterly useless, Kate resigned herself to virtual helplessness once again. To her credit, she didn't argue. The two weeks she'd been under the same roof with Castle had taught her any effort to do so was futile. She knew he had her best interest at heart, but it was just so hard being prohibited from doing anything, even menial tasks like clearing the table. But feeling the twinge of pain in her chest as she sat was a rude reminder that her pride was not worth her health and that maybe Castle had a point.

Lanie came over and took a seat next to her as Ryan and Esposito laughed over some story Jim Beckett was telling them. Kate hoped it wasn't about her. Alexis had disappeared to a bonfire down the beach with Ashley and some friends, Martha had remained in the city for the weekend, and Jenny was the only one stubborn enough to insist on helping Castle clean up the dishes. It was the first time Kate, Castle, Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie had all been together somewhere besides a hospital room since the night before Capt. Montgomery's funeral. While all were profoundly aware of that fact, they were also grateful for each others' company and were taking advantage of the Fourth of July to try and recapture some of the old ease and camaraderie that had defined them for so long. When Castle offered to host a holiday picnic, Kate's initial response was to tell him it wasn't necessary. But before the words left her mouth, she met his eyes and saw the same need that was lurking in her own. She wanted her friends around and was glad for the excuse to see them. And so here they all were, eating spare ribs, potato salad, baked beans, and cole slaw, drinking a few beers, and waiting for the famous Southampton fireworks display that Castle promised was not to be missed.

"So, pretty nice of Castle to have us all up here like this for the Fourth," Lane began.

"Yes, it was," Kate agreed.

"I had no idea his place was so nice. Then again, you don't get too many fixer-uppers in this part of town."

"No, I suppose not."

Kate wasn't trying to avoid conversation; she just didn't know what to say. So much had happened that it seemed idle conversation was still beyond her. So, the silence stretched between them as they watched Castle make several trips to and from the kitchen, arms laden with plates and platters. It was well into evening, and the sky was quickly darkening over the Atlantic as the sun moved farther in the opposite direction. The sporadic fireworks from various houses along the shore would soon begin in earnest as the last of the daylight faded away.

Despite Kate's noncommittal responses, Lane was not giving up her attempt to get her friend talking. Since random topics weren't having an effect, she switched tactics. "Okay, so spill. How are you doing? How's the recovery going? Because I gotta tell you, I didn't know what to expect after seeing you when you left the hospital, but girl, you look good."

Kate smiled, grateful to have someone besides Castle tell her she was looking better. "Thanks Lanie, I feel good. Well, considering I was shot in the chest less than two months ago."

She gave a weak smile and thought back to how she looked, even to herself, only two weeks earlier when she'd packed her few belongings from her hospital room and caught sight of herself in the mirror wearing normal clothes instead of hospital gowns and sweats. He face had been drawn and pale, and the jeans and t-shirt had hung on her thin frame. She's lost fifteen pounds in the weeks after the shooting, mostly in the form of muscle mass from being in bed so much. She had only begun to put it back on in the few days before her release when the PT had gotten a little more strenuous to prepare her for life outside the hospital. The result was that she'd left the hospital looking like a pale imitation of the person she was before the shooting.

But two weeks in the clean air of Southampton, enduring physical therapy for two hours every day and working on her own as much as her doctor (and Castle) would allow her, had given Kate back some healthy color and had put ten of those fifteen pounds back on her thin frame. Though she was still a long way from doing chin-ups and running a six-minute mile, she felt lucky to be able to walk from the patio on the back of Castle house to the water. Her hair was full and wavy again, rather than hanging in limp strands around a gaunt face, and her capris and tank top were far more flattering than they'd been even a week earlier.

Kate took a deep breath, savoring every millimeter that her lungs were able to painlessly expand. That hadn't been the case when she taken her first deep breath of the warm coastal air the day she'd arrived.

"How about the scar?" Lanie asked, indicating the puffy skin that peaked over the neckline of Kate's shirt. "How is it healing?"

"Fine. Still tender and a little raw – and not the prettiest thing to look at. But I'm getting used to it."

Lanie raise a skeptical eyebrow, to which Kate insisted, "Really, Lanie, I'm not ashamed of it. Okay, so I might not strut around in a bikini – "

"Like you ever did before – "

"But, I'm not going to hide behind turtlenecks for the rest of my life. This scar is part of who I am now, and it symbolizes everything that happened … that's still happening."

Lanie couldn't stop herself from asking softly, "Has he seen it?" indicating Castle.

For a moment, Kate didn't answer, then nodded. She didn't elaborate though, and Lanie, for once, respected her silence, sensing from the look in Kate's eyes that there was deep significance to the story. And while Kate intended to keep that memory private for now, she found herself floating back to that afternoon several days eariler. She saw herself looking in the mirror in her room, about a week after arriving at the house. She was examining her scar in a rare moment of vanity, wondering how much it would fade, and debating whether she wanted to have plastic surgery to cover it up or flaunt it like a badge of honor. She traced her finger along the left edge of the scar, just over her heart. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing just enough of the valley between her breasts to expose the the branded area.

"You're beautiful, Kate."

She spun around at the soft voice, pulling the lapels together as she tried not to appear self-conscious. She wanted to be angry at Castle's intrusion, but the tender look in his eyes was too powerful. "I didn't see you there," she said, for lack of anything better.

"I saw the door opening, and I thought you were coming out." He nodded toward the open window. "Must have been the breeze." Without an invitation, he walked over to her, feeling as though each step was weighted with lead. He paused directly in front of her and brought his hands to hers as she tried with shaking fingers to button her shirt. At the time, it still hurt too much to lift her hands over her head to put on a regular shirt without assistance, so she stuck to button-downs as much as possible. Only now, her fingers refused to navigate the buttons with Castle looking at her so intently. The air seemed to solidify around them as Castle's eyes lowered slowly to the deep v created by her open shirt.

"Please," he said softly, knowing she understood that he was asking to see her scar. Her pulse was racing, and a part of her wanted to tell him to leave her alone, but she could sense this was important to him, that it was both impossibly difficult and cathartic at the same time. It was another way for him to confront everything that had happened and to reassure himself that she was okay, though no longer exactly the same. Those few days in May had changed both of them, but she was the only one whose scars were physical as well as emotional.

Slowly, she brought her hands down and allowed him to part her shirt enough to see the raw skin that was still swollen and bruised, though finally sealed. The first and last time he'd seen it, Kate had asked him for help moving the bandage to see her wound for the first time about three days after she woke up. It was a moment of such profound trust neither had dared acknowledge aloud. Both of their eyes had filled with tears at the sight of the angry, red wound caused by both the bullet and the subsequent surgery to remove it and repair the damage.

Five weeks of healing had worked miracles in his opinion. Tenderly, he placed his finger at the top and followed the path of the scar as it curved downward. The tightening in her chest and the shortness of her breath were not from any pain he caused – he couldn't have been any gentler – but had everything to do with the feel of his fingers on her skin. The intimacy of his actions was breath-taking, and Kate didn't know whether to look at his face or at his fingers as they gently skimmed over her skin. While there was nothing overtly sexual about it, and he never once ventured to the left or right of the healing area, she knew that at this moment she was more vulnerable and exposed than she'd ever been with another person.

Castle marveled at the raised skin, at the power of the human body to heal itself, but he also couldn't help but notice the contrast to the smooth, pale expanse that disappeared under the edges of her blouse. He thought to himself that it was probably a very good thing Kate didn't know how badly his fingers begged to part her blouse and reveal what was hidden beneath it. With great effort, he checked his impulse and simply caressed the marred area, knowing he would never forget the sight and feel of it under his fingers.

Reluctantly, he tore his hands away and met her eyes. Her skin blazed with the imprint of his touch.

"I better get dressed," she said thickly.

He turned to leave, barely trusting himself with words. Then he stopped and said softly, "I wasn't lying, Kate. You're beautiful, and that scar only makes you more so."

The memory only took seconds to replay in her mind, and yet it was enough to cause her chest to constrict with emotion. She was grateful when Lanie recalled her to the present, albeit gently, in deference to the weight she saw in Kate's eyes. "So all's well. You're making progress?"

Kate nodded. "It's going slow ... well, slow for me. But good. I can climb the stairs without passing out, and I managed to walk almost a quarter-mile down the beach yesterday. Castle had to help me up the porch steps when we got back, and I slept for an hour afterward, but I didn't hurt."

"You're not pushing it too much?" Lanie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It's only been six weeks."

"Lanie, even if I wanted to, Florence Nightingale over there won't let me so much as brush my own teeth without asking if I'm okay." Though she wanted to sound impatient and annoyed, Lanie saw the way her friend's face softened when she looked at the man across the room.

"And how are things going with you two?"

"Fine. We're … yeah, we're fine," Kate replied evasively.

Lanie rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on Kate. Cut it out. I thought you were going to pop a stitch when he said he was bringing you here to recuperate, and now you two look like the Hamptons' version of Ozzie and Harriet. He dotes on you like a love sick school boy."

"He does not!" Kate's shrill denial carried to the others on the patio, and she immediately lowered her voice to not draw attention. "Okay, so I wasn't thrilled with his offer, which was more like an edict. I don't like being handled, and that's exactly what he did. He made all the arrangements for the nurse, the physical therapy, transportation, and even bringing in everything I'd need to recover." She paused for a minute, then took a breath and continued. "But you know what, Lanie, he was right. I love it here. It's quiet. I have everything I need. I can relax and get stronger. I don't have to worry about grocery shopping, subways, and taxis. I mean look around, who wouldn't want to recover here instead of the city?"

"And he's here." Lanie said quietly.

"Actually, not as much as you'd think. He goes into the city most days, sometimes for a few nights at a time. He gives me my space, especially when I'm having an off day and just want to be alone. He writes a lot and has long conference calls with his agent and his editor."

"Kate, that's not what I mean, and you know it. You've been out of the hospital for two weeks, and this is the first we've seen you, and I know you haven't had a lot of company coming all the way out here. So I'm pretty sure Castle's been it as far as visitors go."

"Alexis and Martha were here last weekend, and my dad has come up three or four times." At Lanie's hard stare, she confessed, knowing she had little choice. "But yes, for the most part, it's been Castle."

"And?"

"And what? We talk – about his book, about Alexis going to college. We watch movies and cook. Well, he cooks, I watch."

Lanie's eyes narrowed.

"Seriously, that's it. Except for one night when I fell asleep on the couch against his arm, it's been the same as always." Or at least that's what Kate had been telling herself. On the surface, he was as affable, attentive, and entertaining as ever, but Kate couldn't pretend that she didn't feel a twinge of disappointment every evening when he said goodnight and retreated to his room. She couldn't deny the tingles she felt when she leaned against him to climb the steps from the beach or when he helped her stretch a tight muscle in her calf or shoulder. Most of all, she couldn't ignore the pull to lean in and claim his lips with her own every time his eyes met her with the intense awareness that the electric current between them was getting stronger as rapidly as she was.

"And how do you feel about everything staying the same?"

Despite the accuracy of Lanie's question, Kate evaded. "What are you, my therapist?"

"No, but honey, I'd have to be blind to not see the way you look at him – and the way he looks at you. It's like everything I've ever seen between you two has been magnified by a hundred. Neither one of you can so much as flinch without the other noticing."

Kate didn't get a chance to reply, because Castle chose that moment to announce that it was nine-thirty and the Village fireworks display would be starting in a half an hour. "It's a little ways up the beach to the spot with the best view, so we'd better get going." He turned toward Kate and asked, "Do you think you're up for it? If not, we can take the car."

Kate shook her head at the offer. "No, I'm fine. I took it easy today, and a walk sounds nice."

Despite begging and pleading from the other six, Jim begged off, insisting he'd rather watch from the comfort of the house. He gave Kate a kiss on the cheek and told her to take it easy on herself. Before she could answer, Castle did it for her. "Don't worry, we'll take it slow." Jim nodded in appreciation, and watched as the three couples headed for the sand.

Castle took up position next to Kate, and despite the urge to take her hand, he contented himself to just be beside her. The last two weeks had been some of the most amazing and most difficult of his life. He relished every moment he got to spend with Kate, eating meals together, watching her stretch her muscles and exercise her traumatized body, and offering her a hand when she needed one. Being there for her helped ease some of the guilt over her injury that he thought might never completely fade. Logically, he knew it wasn't his fault she was shot, and she'd even reminded him of that fact several times, somehow just knowing he carried a lot of weight for her condition.

The hours and days after she was shot had been as much a blur for him as they had for her. He was there the first time she opened her eyes after coming out of a an eight-hour surgery. He sat by her bed as she gained and lost consciousness time and again. She slept for twenty hours or more for the first two days, and then on the third day, she slowly started to stay awake for more than minutes at a time. He was there on the fourth day when she regained the presence of mind to ask what had happened, and he wiped her tears as he walked her through the details she'd forgotten. He held her hand as she struggled to put the pieces together, and finally, her voice heavy with exhaustion, she told him that the last thing she remembered was his face. "You asked me not to leave you." Her brows furrowed in concentration as she thought harder about those final seconds, determined to remember it all. Her eyes widened and her breath caught as the memory surfaced as though coming out of a thick fog. "You said … you said you loved me."

He nodded, his own eyes wet with tears. She didn't say anything else, but she nodded ever so slightly, and smiled softly as she lifted her hand to his cheek. Then, when the weight of her eyelids became too much, she gave herself over once more to the healing embrace of sleep.

As the days passed, Castle maintained his vigil and was there when she took her first sip of apple sauce and when she stood up for the first time – a colossal effort that lasted ten seconds and left her sweating and panting with pain. The next day, he held one side of her, with a nurse on the other, as she took her first step, and then he eased her into a chair by the bed so that she could catch her breath. He brushed the tangles from her hair and wiped sweat from her brow. He brought her books to read – his of course – and new yoga pants and buttoned shirts to wear.

Then one day, Castle found himself needing to draw on every ounce of restraint and personal strength to leave Kate's side when Josh finally made an appearance two weeks into her recovery. The two men nodded curtly as Castle made his exit. When the other man finally left about an hour later, Castle resumed his place by her bedside, and tried not to ask questions he knew he had no right to ask. His agony was short-lived as Kate finally confessed Josh wasn't visiting as her boyfriend. "We haven't been together since just after Royce died."

Castle's eyes widened in surprise. "Kate, that was nearly a month ago. Why didn't you tell me?"

She look guilt-stricken and relieved all at once. "I wanted to ... I'd planned to. I was waiting for the right time." She looked wistfully out the window, and Castle suddenly realized the deeper meaning behind her words – she'd left Josh because of him. In that moment he understood the full impact of the phrase, what might have been.

Kate continued, "After everything happened, I never got a chance to tell you. I never meant to keep it from you."

Castle nodded, hoping the overwhelming joy that began to wash over him in that moment was not as inappropriate as it felt.

Later that night, he held tightly her as she finally released all of the anger and frustration that had been building up since she first regained consciousness. She'd cried for Roy, for her mother, for the angry words she'd hurled at Castle in her apartment; she'd cursed Lockwood and the mysterious man who still evaded capture, and she'd lashed out at her own incapacitation and at the vulnerability that she couldn't seem to escape from. No one else, not even her father, saw her break down in sobs at the weight of all she'd been through in the days and hours before the bullet ripped though her chest, missing her heart by the span of a blade of grass. But Castle had been there every day, never once leaving her side for longer than he had to.

When the doctors had told Kate she was ready to be discharged, it had come with the condition that she not be alone. She still needed help getting around, and living independently was not possible. Castle hadn't hesitated, telling them he had a house in The Hamptons at her disposal with a first-floor bedroom and bath and access to everything she'd need. Kate had never appreciated being told what to do, and this was no different. But ultimately, the promise of freedom from a hospital and an alternative to rehab in an assisted living facility had been to powerful to pass up, even if it meant setting aside her indomitable pride.

Castle was careful to give her the space and independence he knew she craved, while also making sure she was eating, resting, and most importantly, healing. And if the color in her cheeks and the meat on her bones was any indication, he was doing a pretty good job of it. Every day, it became easier to forget why she was there in the first place and harder to face the reality that she would eventually leave. That was an inevitably he didn't want to think about, especially as he strolled along the beach with her on the Fourth of July.

It wasn't long before it became apparent that Kate wasn't able to keep pace with the others, and when she and Castle fell noticeably behind, the others stopped to wait. But Kate urged them to continue. "Guys, seriously, I'm fine. Go on ahead. We'll catch up."

Esposito was about to protest when a sharp jab to his ribs effectively silenced him. Lanie smiled at him and then looked at Jenny, who met Ryan's eyes with a knowing look. The message became very clear: Leave them be.

"You sure?" Lanie asked for no other reason than effect.

"Yeah, I don't want you to miss the fireworks on my account."

"Don't worry, guys," Castle piped up, "we can see them from here if we need to stop."

So the two couples nodded and continued up the beach while Kate and Castle slowed their pace even more.

"You sure you're okay? Do you want to go back?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired, but no pain."

They walked in silence, the navy sky darkening to black with the thin sliver of the waxing moon hanging above them. There was no denying the romance of their surrounding, especially as the other two couples became little more than matching silhouettes, holding hands and strolling along the beach in the distance. Kate was caught off guard by the jolt of envy she felt for their obvious intimacy. Her awareness of her surroundings was only heightened as she sensed Castle's hand so close to her own. How hard would it be to just reach out and wrap hers around it? Before she could change her mind, she felt her knuckles brush against his, and rather than pull away, she pressed her hand a little more firmly against his until, almost in unison, their hands turned slightly and interlocked between them.

With almost magnetic force, she lifted her head toward him and met those cobalt eyes, twinkling with obvious delight. He wasn't snug, nor teasing – simply happy, and she couldn't help but return the smile.

"Thank you Castle, for today. It was really great getting to see everyone."

"It was, wasn't it? I'm just glad they were all able to make it. I can't imagine it's easy for cops to get off July Fourth."

She nodded in agreement. "I think this is the first one the three of us haven't worked since we've been at the 12th, so we've had it coming. I just didn't think it would take all this to get it."

In the distance, the first firework shot up from behind the roofs, signaling the start of the show. The spray of red and white exploded with enough force that Kate felt vibrations in her chest. Two more immediately followed, and within seconds, the sky was alight with the snap, crackle, and pop of fireworks.

Kate and Castle stood there for a few moments, watching the sky, and Kate couldn't help but think how close she'd come to never enjoying this particular summer tradition again. Her thoughts inevitably turned to that exact and unmerciful reality for Captain Montgomery, and she felt tears begin to slide down her face. Too overwhelmed to fight instinct, she drew close to Castle until he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him.

When her tears subsided, she said quietly, "I didn't forget, you know … what you said at the cemetery."

Castle looked down at her and was almost hypnotized by the fire in her eyes that had nothing to do with the reflections from the explosions overhead. "I thought you might have, after that day in the hospital."

"I didn't know how to bring it up again." She'd probably never know what had made her bring it up now, but the words were there, and they came unbidden to her lips. As if reading her mind, Castle echoed the question she was asking herself.

"What changed?"

She looked toward the sky and then out over the water. "I don't know. Me, I guess. Here I am watching fireworks on the Fourth of July, with you right next to me, and all poor Evelyn has to hold on to tonight is a flag that was draped over her husband's coffin not two months ago. And we came very close to the same fate." She whispered the words and allowed him to hug her closer.

While he understood well the power of her emotions and had himself thought more than once about how differently things could have gone, he also had to know if she felt more than survivor's guilt. But before he could think of the proper way to respond, she kept talking.

"You never left me Rick, not for one minute. Even when I screamed at you to leave me alone, you came back. You brought me here to recover, knowing it was the best place for me, even when I couldn't admit that. And I don't know how much longer I can act like my heart isn't breaking every time I pretend not to have these feelings for you."

With those words, he turned her toward him and lifted her chin until her eyes met his. "What are you saying, Kate?"

"Did you mean it, Rick? Did you mean what you said?"

"Yes, every word. I love you."

Looking into his eyes, knowing they were the truest words she'd ever spoken, Kate offered him all she had.

"I love you, too."

Neither noticed that the grand finale was beginning as Castle lowered his mouth and touched his lips to hers, but the explosions in the sky paled in comparison to what erupted between them. Kate didn't even feel the tugging pain across her chest caused by her arms lifting to encircle his neck. He pulled her against him and deepened the kiss. As profound and unexpected as their first kiss had been nearly six months earlier, neither was prepared for the force of their second. It was at once familiar and new, tender and torrential, a homecoming and an exotic journey.

When his lips, so soft and deft as they danced across hers, at last pulled away, their eyes met and they smiled with a delightful giddiness that surprised them both. A moment that was full of so much emotion and gravity suddenly gave way to light-heated joy. If Kate had been able, she would have taken his hand and ran into the surf, just to release the energy that she felt coursing through her. As it was, the most she could so was take his face in her hands, and kiss him with deliberate force. She pulled back, looked into his eyes, and allowed the weight of the moment to descend once more. Taking his hands in hers, she said, "Thank you …"

" I told you, always."

She smiled at the familiar word – their word – and nodded, "Always."