13: epilog

It had been drizzling ceaselessly all weekend. Damp fog clung to the sharp edges of the city's skyscrapers, all of New York doused in clammy, relentless grey. Kate didn't mind at all. It would be perfectly fine with her if it kept raining throughout the next week as well, just to offset that piercing-cold, sharp, ceaseless sunlight of last week.

Or rather, not-last week. Kate was coming to terms with the fact that whatever she had experienced must have all been some very bizarre, albeit immensely vivid and realistic dream. Even the sunshine had been surreal. The longer she talked about it, the more fantastical it felt. Whale sightings at Coney Island; who could believe that.

She and Rick had talked a lot more about her experience over the last two days since she had thrown herself into his arms, her wall in ruins at his doorstep and her soul stripped bare. She shared every detail of what she had lived through, each moment she had weathered. It helped to talk with him, to unravel the possible meanings of each encounter; to share the choices she had made, the conclusions she had reached. He had loved hearing about his other self meeting her mother, had smiled with wistful yearning when she told him how much Johanna had adored him as well, and her love for him welled through her with such fierce intensity that Kate could barely contain it.

She could see the enthusiasm sparkle in Castle's eyes, the excitement over the possibility of traveling to different universes, even inadvertently. Yet Kate found that she could accept not knowing what it had been, at least for now; she was making her peace with thinking of it as an elaborate, life-altering dream.

Yet the feelings were real. The intensity of everything she had felt clung to her; the sense of loss and loneliness lingered. Each time she closed her eyes the gamut of emotions would roil through her, but then she would open her eyes and find his. And his warm, devoted gaze anchored her to her reality, her here and now. To this beautiful thing they were creating together.

Kate relished the fresh, chilled air as it soaked into her lungs, the cool drizzle of rain on her face, and the simple joy of her hand entwined with his as they walked.

It was Sunday, and they had ventured outside for a stroll in the late afternoon. They had spent most of the weekend wrapped around each other in his bed, making love or lying pressed against each other, skin to skin, exchanging quiet smiles and even quieter words, fingers brushing lingering caresses. Eventually, Kate felt the need to stretch her legs, so she had teased Rick out of bed and into a shower, and then out of the loft.

They strolled to Columbus Park, and stopped at Café Select on the way back.

The little coffee shop was busy; the rain and the chill had driven people indoors to nurse large ceramic cups while the windows fogged from their collective warmth. Kate scanned the café, and met the gaze of a woman seated in the back corner. The couple was rising and the woman nodded at Kate, indicating that the chairs were becoming available. Kate smiled a thank you, and threaded her way through the coffee shop toward the corner seats. She unwound the scarf from around her neck - Castle had lent it to her and the wool smelled like him, sandalwood and coffee and a hint of moss - and she settled into one of the chairs while Castle went to the counter to order their coffees.

With their hands loosely knitted together, bridging the gap between their two chairs they talked, nourishing the easy conversations that came so effortlessly to them. Their time together had been filled with confusion and revelations, deep conversations and several rounds of lovemaking, every moment so intense and consequential that they now relished the calm, easy normalcy. They chatted about Martha's acting school and Castle's progress on the latest Nikki Heat book, the restaurant selection she liked in her new neighborhood, and his favorite donut shop that frosted superhero logos onto its delectable glaze.

For long moments they didn't talk at all, and instead simply sipped their coffees, smiling at each other with newfound intimacy while the coffee shop bustled and hummed around them.

He looked besotted every time he smiled at her, and warmth flared in her midsection, such simple yet all-consuming happiness rolling through her, and she was certain that her gaze wasn't any less besotted. She simply couldn't stop smiling.

Kate picked up her mug, lifted it to her mouth, and realized she had already finished her latte a while ago. She placed the mug back on the table.

"Would you like another?" Castle asked.

"Yes. But I'll get it." She rose, picked up her purse from beside her chair and swung it over her shoulder. "I still owe you at least 93 coffees." She winked at him, played the tip of her tongue between her teeth in the way she knew he appreciated in completely new ways now. He exhaled a quick breath, leaning back in his chair, and she knew he would watch her walk away. She could sense the warmth of his gaze on her, and her heart summersaulted.

A couple of patrons were ahead of her in the line, and while she waited, Kate let her gaze dance over the display of snacks and cakes behind the glass counter. When it was her turn she ordered her vanilla latte and a caramel macchiato for Rick, as well as a blueberry muffin and a piece of lemon loaf. She was a little hungry again, despite the large lunch that they had consumed at an absurd time in the afternoon.

"$24.65," the barista said.

Kate dug through her purse for her wallet, and something sharp stabbed her finger, piercing into the flesh beneath her nail.

"Ouch." She hissed at the stinging pain. Carefully, she pulled the offending thing from her purse. The moment the object came into view, her stomach seized.

"Castle?" She cried out, her heart racing. She had to grip one hand around the edge of the counter to steady herself, barely aware of the stares and murmurs around her. Her head was swimming. Rick was by her side in an instant, his expression knotted with concern.

"What's wrong?" He murmured, brushing a hand down her back.

She looked up at him, certain that her incomprehension was written all over her face, and opened her hand for him to see.

In her fierce grip, an amalgam of driftwood and twine and polished rock, a little stick woman stared up at them.

The stick woman her mother had built for Kate two days ago on Coney Island.

the end

Thank you all so much for reading; I hope the story brought you joy.

Happy Holidays, whatever you may celebrate, and may the New Year bring you peace and happiness.