61. Chapter 61

Castle slides his card key out of his pocket, unlocks the door. He hears the wind tunnel that means the balcony door is open, squints against the brilliant light pouring in.

"Kate?"

She comes into view at the end of the hall, a dark profile against the light, her hair in waves to her shoulders, long legs, the round square of her hips. "Castle."

He heads towards her, but she's coming quickly, is pressed against him before he can move more than a foot from the door. Castle cradles her, an arm around her shoulders, his other hand at the back of her head. He strokes his fingers through her hair from behind, pulling it away from her face, brushes his mouth to her temple, under her eye, feathering softness and gentleness into her skin.

She takes a long breath in; he feels her body fill up with it, expanding, and then the long exhale out. He can sense it leaving her like a dark cloud, whatever it was, the sadness or shared burden, the way she has of identifying all too clearly with suffering.

He doesn't talk, doesn't need to. He keeps his arms around her, holding her in the hallway, catches sight of Ellery peeking around the corner. He winks at his daughter, lifts his fingers from Kate's back to give Ella a little wave.

The little girl ducks as if hiding, a grin spreading across her face, then scoots back around the corner. He sees markers in her hand, but he won't chase. Not right now. He'll gladly pay for the damages.

After a moment, he feels Kate's open mouth at his neck, breathing, her eyelashes wet against his skin. He squeezes her shoulders, tries to pull her in tighter, runs his thumb along her jaw.

"He's leaving her," she murmurs.

"He's an idiot."

Kate gives a little laugh, but the sound chokes into grief at the end. He knows it's not just about this family they met and hung out with a few times - even though Kate felt a connection to this woman. He knows it's more than a father choosing himself over his kids, a father abandoning his daughter - even though Kate is tender there too. It's more than that.

But he knows, and he is certain and sure in this knowledge, that it is not deep-seated fears of about his two failed marriages. She's never wondered; she'll never have to wonder.

He knows it is just grief. And how sometimes that grief strikes so quickly, so deeply, and maybe even more painful for the unexpectedness of it. Just sorrow. Grieving for Vicki and the kids and Austin, grieving for the cases that hit too close to home, grieving for her mother. All of it is inseparable for her at times, as if grief were a coat of many colors. Patches get added to the worn-out spots, it's hemmed to fit her new life, taken out to accept new tragedies.

It's just the way she is, because of her mother's murder. Because her closure is elusive.

She breathes again at his neck, shifts in his arms so that she can lay her cheek against his chest, drape her body along his. Castle nudges her with his hips, tries to push her back. She gives a little noise, like she's afraid he might be moving her off.

"Head to the living room. Or the bedroom. Come on, Kate."

She sighs again, turns slowly; he leaves his hands on her hips to propel her forward, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, her shoulder blade. She snakes her hand around behind her, takes his fingers with her own, pulls his arm around her waist, their hands at her stomach.

When they get to the living room, Ellery is waiting for them on the couch, mystifying little smile on her lips, purple marker in her hand.

"Move over, baby girl," he says, grinning at her. She scoots back, wriggling into the cushions to make room for them. Kate drops down next to her, pulls the girl into her lap, chin to the top of Ella's head. Castle sits but moves to recline, pushing his toes to the end of the couch so he can drag Kate and Ella against his chest, all of them laying down. Ellery giggles and squirms, works herself down to Castle's side while Kate is wedged against the back of the couch.

Kate lays her hand on his chest, drawing circles with her fingertips. He wraps an arm around her, the other around Ella, waits for Kate to speak or gather herself back together.

But she doesn't. She closes her eyes instead, curls into him, and doesn't try to explain.

And that's good. Because he already knows.

Rick brushes his fingertips across her cheek, lifts his head just enough to kiss her mouth, slow and enduring, taking his time to press words into her with his tongue, let her feel all the things good and right with them, push out all the grief.

Her hand curls at his ear, the heel of her palm at his jaw, and she takes. She takes all of it but remains mute.

When the door bangs open, Kate is almost okay again. Pretty close to good, actually. They've got the television on Masterpiece Theatre and Ellery is in the floor, half-watching while she plays with her pet puppies. Or whatever they are. Dogs with horse tails that she brushes and puts to bed and feeds.

Totoro made an appearance. At some point while they were dog piled on the couch, Ellery wriggled her way out and ran back to her room, allowing Kate to stretch out over Castle, slide her arms around his ribs. When Ella came back, she was clutching Totoro in her arms. She placed the wood troll bunny up near Castle's shoulder and leaned in to her mother with a wet kiss. "Toto help."

So now that Kate and Rick are somewhat more upright, legs tangled together, Kate keeps Totoro tucked in the crook of her arm.

She can hear Allie and Rafe and Dashiell spilling into the living room from the hallway; she turns her head and smiles at them. Dash has made a beeline for Ellery, showing her something that Allie must have gotten him at the grocery store.

Alexis must understand that it's okay, because she deposits her groceries on the counter, brushing a hand across Rafe's back in silent command, and then comes to sit with them on the couch. Kate is amused to see Rafe begin to unload all their purchases, putting things away.

Allie hugs on Kate tightly, squeezing, and Kate smiles back at her, arms going around the young woman's back. They are all tangled together on the couch, and it reminds Kate of all the times they did this when Dash was a baby.

"So what happened?"

"That couple we introduced you to? They're splitting up. It just. . ." Kate trails off, doesn't want to think about it anymore.

"Hit you. I understand," Alexis sighs and then pulls back with a determined grin on her face. "So. Let's go get some sun. Build some sand castles. Bury some other Castles in the sand. . ."

Ellery and Dash both abandon the floor and come running. "Yes, yes, let's go. Please, Daddy?" Dashiell bounces on his feet, grabbing Castle's hand.

Ella climbs up the tangle of bodies and limbs, straddles Kate's ribs. "Beach, Mommy."

Kate wraps an arm around her as well, struggles to sit up with the weight of Castle's arm, Ella's body, and Allie's half-hug.

Dashiell starts climbing now too, working his way in between his parents to sit on Castle's chest. And bounce.

"Okay, dog pile is officially over. Everybody off me." Castle grunts and shoves at Kate, Dash, lifts his legs to dislodge Alexis.

Kate grins, leans over the kids to drop a salty kiss on his mouth. "Never though I'd hear you say that."

"First time for everything," he groans, wincing as Dashiell gets to his knees and tries to make his way to his mother. "Dashiell."

Kate untangles herself, lets Allie take Ellery so she can hoist Dash off his father before he does real damage. Castle lays there a second, feigning immobility, a hand over his eyes, then he gets up, pushing on all of them to get them out of his way.

"Let's go to the beach. We all need some sun. Rafe, you up for the beach?"

At Castle's call, the man's smile grows on his face. He nods back at them. "Still got my swim trunks on. Ready to go."

Kate reaches out and snags Castle's hand, squeezing it tightly. When he turns to her, questions on his face, she leans with an open mouth, takes a kiss from him. Pride fills her, as if she has had something to do with how good this man is, how right, how he works to make them a family.

To keep them a family. Even including Rafe. "I love you," she murmurs, dragging her hand down his cheek.

Allie snorts at them and pushes past to get to the hallway, herding the kids ahead of her. "Let's let Mom and Dad have some kissy-face while we go get ready."

"Not too long, Mommy!" Dashiell calls out as he's being led away. "We gots to go."

Ella escapes, ducking around Allie's outstretched hand to come back to her parents. She crashes into Kate's legs, hugging her hard, and lifts her face to see her mother, chin against Kate's knee.

"I want you to do it, Mommy."

Kate lets go of Castle and leans down to pick up her daughter, nuzzling her cheek, and then blowing a raspberry against her skin. Ella giggles, her hands grabbing Kate's ears as if to stop her, head thrown back in laughter.

Suddenly Castle wraps his arms around them both, presses a hot, dangerous kiss to her mouth, invading her, overriding her senses. Her arms go weak; she feels Ellery slipping, but he's already there, holding her up, holding them both up.

"You're okay. You're fine," he says quietly. "We're all fine."

And she believes him. With her whole heart.

Her family is safe.