Misconception

anonymous asked:

They slept together after Ryan's wedding but never talked about it. Kate finds out she is pregnant but doesn't know how to tell him, especially after the events of 47 seconds.

A/N:I didn't know, when I had the urge to write something for this prompt, that it would take off quite like it has. I have five scenes so far, this being the first, and I will post more as the vagaries of life allow, but I don't have a plan here, and I don't have a endpoint in mind. It is my intent to keep away from Dash as much as possible, so if it happens to fall into those lines, I will endeavor to knock it askew. Which might mean it goes strangely to your way of thinking, but I ask for forbearance and forgiveness, and let's see what happens.

I set this directly after Limey.

Thanks to allyinla on tumblr for the title. You totally win.

Misconception

X

Fun.

And uncomplicated.

That is really not Kate Beckett, is it? He has run as far from her as he possibly could. Sprinted.

And in her most delirious, pain-med-induced hallucinations after being shot, Richard Castle walking away from her with a blonde on his arm and his child foraging like a hungry mouth inside her - while, yes, accurate to his persona on Page Six - is nothing she ever saw coming. Knocked up and abandoned.

Little incubus, she murmurs, not sure who she's talking about. Or to. And damn - succubus if it's a girl.

Beckett rubs briskly at her face and scrapes her hair back, lets out a fortifying breath.

All right, well. She's an adult; they are both adults, contrary to his recent behavior. He loves his daughter and he would be hurt if she decides to say nothing. So she has to say something, but-

Three months. Three of nine, a third of the way over already, and she's not fun and she's so complicated, and this is just making it worse. Talk about complicated. Talk about not fun. A baby is not the way to fix mistakes.

This is why a couple of vodka martinis and that dance floor at the Ryans' wedding (and the shoes that tipped her forward and forced her to take them off so that she fit exactly right against him during the slow ones, so that she pushed up on her toes to whisper in his ear let's get a room) were all very bad ideas.

They were waiting; there's that wall, and she's bricked up, she's not who she should be yet. Except she wanted it right then, wanted to not feel so lonely in the work, and three months later, here they are, incredibly complicated.

There's a wall, and she's going to have to do some serious renovation to let this kid out in six more months.

Her hands are trembling.

But she has to do this.

Kate raises her fist and knocks like a cop on his door.

X

When he opens, the scowl deepens, the shadows cluster at the corners of his mouth. "What do you want, Beckett?"

Alimony.

No. God, that nearly came out of her mouth. That is not the way to tell him this news. Instead, she folds the ultrasound into her palm, tucks it up close as if to protect it, and she goes entirely off-script.

"I had to be sure before I wrote this off," she says, voice firm. "If not for me, then for..." You, little thing.

"I'm pretty sure I've already heard the ending."

Her concentration startles back to him. "Perhaps. But there's something you deserve to know."

"You think?" he snarls. She's not even inside his door yet, but he finally steps back and gestures brusquely with a hand. The sarcasm evident in that sweep of his arm is acidic. "I already heard, Beckett. Secondhand, I might add, which is pretty low of you-"

She freezes. "Secondhand?" Who could possible have told? No one knows - no one. But three months, three months is a long time and he watches her so closely, so observant, has always pulled out that trick and pummeled her with it. "I don't know how you could have."

"I heard, all right? I heard you in the interrogation room. You told a suspect before breathing a word of this to me."

She didn't tell a suspect, did she? Surely that didn't bleed through. She frowns, palm sweating where it touches the ultrasound photo; the paper clings to her skin. It all feels a little desperate, so she tries to slow this down. "I don't recall ever mentioning-"

"As if fleeing the hotel room that morning like it's the scene of a crime doesn't speak volumes? You tried to tell me then, you're right. I should have known. Stupid of me, optimistic of me, thinking maybe I just jumped the gun and you'd come back given time."

"Come... back?" she says faintly. "When was I gone?"

Castle's face looks struck.

She shakes her head and tries to make sense of this. "I'm not sure we're talking about the same things here. What suspect? The interrogation-"

Her stomach drops. Kate presses the heel of her hand to her sternum, blinking. "Oh. Oh, I..."

"I got the message, Kate. Loud and clear. I should have that morning after Ryan's wedding, and that's on me."

He got the message? "But. You went out with that woman..."

"What?" he snarls. "I can't have a little fun?" While he waits.

"I never thought you were that kind of guy." She frowns, curls her fingers down over her stomach, realizes what she's doing and drops her hand. The ultrasound is in the other hand, secret and safe. If she thought she could get away with never seeing him again - doing this on her own - she would leave. Escape.

Escape with her dignity intact, if not her heart. "Just like the hotel."

"Exactly," he snarls. "Everything has to be your way, is that it? Because you got shot, you get to dictate all the rules. Well, I'm done, Kate."

She nods slowly, mind turning over. He's such a good father, but if he - if he hates her this much, how can he filter that out when confronted with a child? Would he ever be able to not see her mistakes in their - mistake?

This is such a mess.

Kate presses her lips into a line and takes a breath, surprised that it still comes, that her lungs haven't collapsed just like her heart.

"Right," she says, nodding again. "Well, that's it, then. I had to be sure, I guess, before I said anything. Get a true answer."

"You always do. Can't possibly step out on blind faith, can you? Can't possibly just believe for once. You always have to be so sure. Well certainty isn't a given for anyone, Kate. No one gets that."

All right, well, this is getting confusing and he's angry - and does a three-month-old fetus have ears? Probably so.

She drags her eyes back to him, finally looking, finally ready to face it. And yes, he's terribly hurt, and angry, and he doesn't want to listen to her; she can see that.

I left you a note, she thinks. But obviously, that wasn't enough. She can never find adequate words, now or then, though she thought her note had left room for - for them. Obviously, he's done with waiting. He got her out of his system and that's really all it was good for. She knows now, too. She won't keep after him, and she can't imagine a situation more miserable, clinging to a man because of a baby.

But she can't pretend like nothing has happened. He still deserves to know.

Kate opens her hand with the ultrasound, unfolds it, smooths it out, her heart catching at the little blurs of digital limbs. "This is your copy. I won't - expect you, expect anything. But I'm done shutting everyone out. Can't really, anymore, can I?" She presses the ultrasound into his hand. "Just - um..." Shit, her heart is breaking. This is a lot harder than she thought. "Just don't take this one out of school for a Paris field trip, and we'll be good, okay?"

She tries to laugh, and she leaves the sweat-curled photo in his palm, and she turns for the door. Quickly. She needs out of here before the knot in her throat wells up in her eyes.

"Kate. What the hell is this?"