Work Text:
"I love you, Kate."
"...and I remember every second of it."
Castle had been admiring Beckett's take-no-prisoners interrogation style, which never got old, and that statement made him freeze in his mental tracks.
She remembers. Everything.
His mind moved inexorably forward with this information, inescapable, like the chain that drags the rollercoaster car up the ramp toward the big plunge, his thoughts spinning rapidly through the possibilities, sorting out the likely from the unlikely from the impossible, as if it were a plot twist and he was trying to see how plausible it was.
She doesn't remember and doesn't know I'm on the other side of the mirror, so she has no problem lying to the suspect to put pressure on him. Plausible.
She has remembered all along and has lied to me about it, because she doesn't think I meant it and is giving me an out. Plausible, but still doesn't tell me anything about her feelings.
She has remembered all along and has been waiting for the right time and place to talk about it, but chickens out every time an opportunity presents itself. Unlikely - seems out of character.
She has only recently remembered and has been intending to talk to me about it. And to return my affections. Plausible.
She remembers, but she thinks she was hallucinating. Plausible.
She remembers, but felt she had to end it with Doctor Motorcycle Boy before considering her feelings about it. (In which case, what's she waiting for!) Unlikely.
She has remembered all along and doesn't love me, so she's been trying to pretend everything's okay and still be my cop buddy. Awkward, and all too plausible.
She has remembered all along, doesn't love me, and wants more than ever for me to go away. Confusing, because she's not shy about kicking me out when she needs to. Still...kicking me out for good? What would that look like?
If she loves me, why doesn't she say, or hint, or pass me a note in class?
If she doesn't love me...why am I still here? Is she waiting for me to figure it out?
Castle straightened up; this had all taken less than a minute, and his heart stalled on the last question. Why am I still here?
"You know," said Kate, "now that the case is done...I want to talk to you about something."
"I really should be getting home," Castle said, trying to sound indifferent, flippant, casual, anything but broken.
"This won't take long."
He caught the hitch in her breath as she took his arm and pulled him along, not to the break room or interrogation, but to a little-traveled nook back by the supply closet. He leaned back on the wall, arms crossed, waiting for the bomb to drop.
"Castle, it's about - when I was shot."
Yep, here it comes. Stiff upper lip, Castle.
"You said something - I know I said I didn't remember, but I did. I do. Remember."
Breathe. Don't blink, it'll make the tears come faster.
"You said - you loved me."
Still he stood, staring, watching her brows furrow in confusion. He couldn't say anything, couldn't bring himself to open his mouth and let all his bitterness spill out, so he waited.
"You did, didn't you? Say that?"
He nodded. She bit her lip; he saw the shine of tears in her eyes and something buried deep inside him woke up and took a good look at her expression.
"Is it - was it true, Castle?"
His mind started its callous ascent into reason once more,
Why is she asking me this, now? Is she letting me down here? Why is she nervous? That's not her resolute, breaking-the-bad-news face...
but he put the brakes on it and cleared his throat.
"It was. It is," he managed to say quietly. Trying to cling to some dignity, in case he was wrong yet again.
Kate seemed to have stopped breathing, even though her mouth was half-open, and he had a sudden, mad urge to lean in and taste her mouth, just once before she kicked him out of her life...
"Could you - say it again?" she stammers.
What's the point? Is this a formal rebuttal? I wish I could lie and say no, I can't, but the cat's out of the bag now, for both of us.
He could never refuse her anything. It would be his downfall.
"I love you," he whispered. "I love you, Kate."
Castle readied himself to push off the wall, to pry his feet from the floor, to remember the way to the stairs, but as he pushed forward, so did Kate. Not to put him back in his place, but to pull him closer, her hands on his shoulders and her mouth headed for his, just as he'd imagined hopelessly a moment ago.
He closed his eyes and sank into her kiss, his hands falling limply to his sides, his head tipped to meet the angle of her lips. He told his brain to shut up and enjoy the rollercoaster, it might be his last ride, but he didn't really believe that any more.
Kate pulled back, still gripping his arms like she was afraid he'd run for it.
"I love you, too, Castle," she told him, looking resolute and a little scared. "Can we - talk about it?"
Of course. He could refuse her nothing.
Not just plausible. Completely, absolutely, incredibly confirmed.