As much as we may like to forget them, some days are destined to be remembered. These are the days that define us. These are the days where we are faced with a fork in the road and must decide in which direction we will go. These are the days where the darkness weighs heavy. Days where the light struggles to break through the clouds. Such days come and such days will surely pass. These days do not, however, pass like sands through an hourglass, but like meatloaf through a straw.

For Castle, today had been one of those days. He was not a fan of meatloaf. He was partial to straws, but the combination was perilous. Today he had made mistakes. Today he had caused pain. His intentions had been pure. His methods had not. Secrets and subterfuge. Past behaviours cast his present behaviour in a very negative light. He wasn't that same person anymore, but he had built his cross and now he must bear it?...bare it?...Now he must carry its weight.

But enough pretty prose...The previous night, he had snuck out on Beckett and in the process taken a chip out of her trust in him. He snuck off to see an ex and in the process taken a chunk out of her fragile faith in him. The reason he did this is not important. The reason he had not told her is. He hadn't wanted to worry her. He had not wanted to give her cause for concern. Flawed logic indeed. Things had gone pear shaped. Murder and mayhem. He had lied to her about it and in the process he had given validation to all her fears. What a dick!

Never for a minute had she believed him to be a murderer. That he could have handled. Though she never accused him of it directly, he had means and opportunity to be a cheater; to be reckless with her heart; to be fickle with her affections; to take her insecurities and expose them.

Evening had come as it inevitably must. Darkness had fallen, as was its want. Now he slept. Time passed and the new dawn was breaking. Slowly he dragged himself through the fog, back to consciousness. Vague memories. Hurt. Anguish. A tear. His doing. A distance. Assurances to be made. A rift to be mended. A struggle. Lost words. Lost in translation. Thoughts not expressed. Feelings not understood. Accusations and recriminations. Love and need. Desire. Desperation. Holding. Clinging. Tangled limbs and lips. Plus a few other clichéd word pairings.

And here she was. Sleeping beside him. He had broken her a little, broken them a little, and it was up to him to put things back together. So he rose. Careful not to disturb her slumber. He would not leave her though. Scanning the room he saw a (conveniently located) pencil and notebook on her dresser. He took it and sat in the chair by the end of her bed. There he sat and watched her. Every now and then she snored a little. Only a little. He liked it. He liked her. Very much. And so he began to write...

Kate,

Yesterday I did a miserable job expressing to you the depths of my sorry for the pain I caused you, so I'm writing this down in the hope that I can convey my thoughts and feelings clearly and articulately (I am a writer after all!).

I'm sorry I gave you cause for pain. I'm sorry I gave you reason not to trust me. I'm sorry.

I never meant to hurt you and I know I have. I know you're scared I might do it again. I'm scared I might too. That would never be my intention, but I do seem quite skilled in the art of stuffing things up. So, I need your help. If I'm being a douche, I want to know. If I make you sad, I want to know. For my part, I promise to return the favour.

I cannot change my past and if each of my decisions has led me to where I am right now, I can't bring myself to regret them either (except for the cut-off jean period – that was a little regrettable), because right here, right now, beside you, is exactly where I want to be.

You are all I need. You are all I want. You are my everything and never again will I betray your trust. For a long time now you have been my first thought when I wake in the morning and my last thought before I go to sleep. Plus quite a few thoughts in between, especially when...never mind.

And so I sit here, watching you sleep (not in a creepy way) and I don't want to sleep. I want to wake you. I don't want to waste a moment together. Dr Seuss said it best (didn't he always?!), "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." You are my dream and my reality. You are my centre and my circumference.

I'll take care of your heart.

Now wake up woman – I want pancakes!

Always and forever

Xx

...Castle, by the way, in case you were wondering!

He folded the letter. Stood and placed it on the pillow beside her. He then returned to the chair and sat. Sat and watched. Watched and waited. He was not going anywhere.