When you were ten, your neighbours had said that you were so mature for a boy your age. You thought they were just messing around with you, and laughed every time someone pointed it out.

Until one afternoon when after class, your teacher sat you down. She looked you in the eyes, and started saying something very heartfelt, "God bless you, Kid. God bless you."

You asked her why, because you didn't see yourself that way.

She told you that she knew how you had defended your Mother's honor, watched you snatch back the card you'd made her for Father's Day from the boys who mocked you.

Don't you have a father? It's not a surprise. Who'd want to marry such a loud woman?

You then swore in front of your teacher that you'd do everything you could to never hurt such a beautiful, delicate thing called a woman.

That day never left you. It's what prompted you to get married to Meredith, because you wouldn't let her raise your daughter alone. It's why you tried so hard to make it work with her, and with Gina. It's why you vowed to wait as long as it took for Kate Beckett to be ready.

But somewhere along the line you blew it, or she blew it. You're not really sure anymore.

You wondered if you'd hurt her – Beckett. It's gonna at least sting, you told yourself and felt a small pang of guilt. But you could justify it to yourself, because she'd hurt you too. She hurt you badly. And turnabout is fair play.

So you brought that flight-attendant to the crime scene, you go out of your way to show that you're happy, show Beckett that you're moving on...because it's what she wants. Isn't it?

And even though your heart was full of doubts, you continued the charade.

Does she deserve this? Yes. Yes, she does.

A little time passed and you didn't wonder anymore.

You knew you'd hurt her when you brought that bimbo around, and you were so sorry about that, but today, when you found yourself a new partner, you saw something you hadn't seen in a long time. Something which reminded you a lot of the woman who crashed your book launch party almost five years ago.

She was less self-assured and constantly looking to her Mother's ring; her eyes had lost their natural sparkle, she seemed a bit off, and one time you caught her staring vacantly at your empty chair.

But still you couldn't bring yourself to make amends. Because she deserved it.

Doesn't she?

It was 3am when your phone rang for the 20th time. You ignored it for the first 19, knowing it wouldn't be your former partner, because she'd stopped trying to call you after you ignored her for God-knows-how-long.

And then that flight attendant started bombing your phone with messages and calls that made you shudder. It made you even less receptive to picking up the phone.

When you eventually brought yourself to look at your phone, it was Kate's smiling face that lit up your screen, and you looked at it for a second to absorb everything (oh, how you've missed her), because you were so sleepy and not quite understanding. But then the confusion is gone, replaced by panic, because who the fuck called at 3 in the morning if it was not important?

Fuck.

You cursed, because you wanted to hate her for driving you crazy and for leaving you clueless. She made you look like a fool, and those pitying your family have given you every single day this month are starting to get old.

The worst part was every part of her was still pretty much everywhere. Her scent – you didn't bother to find out the reason – was always around you. Even after working with Ethan Slaughter, you still found yourself ordering two coffees every morning – you ended up leaving them cold.

When you accepted her call, there was no sound for a long time. Not her beautiful voice, not an unwatched TV (does she even have a TV?), not anything, until a loud sob filled your ears, followed by her uneven breath sounds.

You heard him trying to catch his breath before saying, "15 minutes, Beckett."

Three words. Three simple words, hell, it was only one word; the other two are numbers and your name. It wasn't as meaningful as the words he told you that day in the cemetery, but that little promise was just so pure, and spontaneously said – even after he ignored you for weeks.

Self-realization was the funniest thing that happened that night; because just then you realized your "Words don't matter, action does" way of life was wrong.

Sometimes, words domatter. Sometimes, they're everything.

15 minutes, Beckett.

You had no idea why you sobbed. No, you had no idea.

All you remembered was, you couldn't sleep. You got lost in memories - your Mother kissing your forehead before tucking you in, Sunday mornings conversations with your mom and your dad as a family, Sunday mornings after her death – how everything was just empty and your dad acted like you were not worth living for.

And so you reached for your phone, and found yourself hitting speed dial number three. You remembered when he borrowed it several months back, mentioning something about saving Alexis' new numbers, but instead you caught him saving his own number to the speed dial.

"Number three, because I know your father and Lanie are more important to you. No, it's ok. I'm ok being number three. What's not okay is you have to scroll hundreds of your contacts just to reach me."

You weren't ready to tell him yet that he's been number one for a long time.

You didn't know how many traffic laws you'd broken that early morning. You didn't care about people angrily beeping at you from the bubble of their cars, you didn't care. You didn't even understand where your anger had gone, nor did you feel the need to have it back.

All that mattered was, she needed you.

And, any progress in moving on you had made since last month had just gone with the wind. You were right back where you started; hopelessly in love with Kate Beckett.

Your Kate had never been a crier. Not when you two fought. Not when you pulled away from her. Or at least, she'd find a place where she could cry without anyone noticing.

But you had seen her cry before. Over Dick Coonan, over Captain Montgomery. You also knew she had been crying when you came to her apartment that afternoon; bringing her flowers after the captain had kicked her out. And whenever it happened, you prayed. You prayed to God to protect her from the evils in this world, because you couldn't understand how someone so small albeit strong thought she could carry the weight of the world without sharing the burden?

She only cried when it was really bad, let alone decided to call you. So when you answered her call, you couldn't help but to panic.

You looked at your watch. Sixteen minutes. Not bad.

You knocked, knocked again, three times, until she opened the door.

She was wearing her PJs. Her face make-up free, made her look younger and if he didn't know better he'd swear he was seeing her 19-year-old self. As seen this afternoon, her cheeks had lost their colour. She gave you a forced-smile, but her expressive eyes couldn't fool you – not only were they bloodshot, but a hint of sadness was there, too. Her hands were clasped together as if she was protecting herself from the world. She wore her hair up, a bit messily, but she had never looked more beautiful to you.

"Kate?" You were looking at her from head to toe. "What's wrong?"

You watched her as she shook her head; her i-can-do-this-alone face was back in place in no time. Who knew she was such an actress?

"Nothing. You should probably go back home." Her voice quivered, something you couldn't miss.

"Beckett-"

"No, you need to go back home. It's only 4.20, Alexis might be wondering where you are. Go." She pushed you with her small hands, but you didn't flinch. You were a hell lot stronger than she thought. But that was when you noticed her heat was radiated through your skin.

You put the back of your palm on her forehead. "How long have you been sick?"

She looked as surprised as you did. "I - I'm not sick, Castle."

"Well you definitely have a fever here." You pointed out. "Where's the thermometer? When was the last time you ate something? What are your symptoms?"

You were the one who forced her to eat on her busy days, who forced her to sleep on sleepless nights at the precinct and who pretended that Alexis had already eaten so you 'didn't want to waste your daughter's lunch'. You were the one who silently checked the amount of Advil and vitamin pills in her desk, making sure she didn't run out of them, despite her telling you to stay out of her drawers. You felt very responsible for her health, and you couldn't help thinking this was your fault.

You tried to control your worries as you examined her from head to toe, once again. And you noticed how her hands were no longer clasped, they were on her stomach.

"I'll make you ginger ale, now go back to bed." You commanded. You were still confused with your feelings, looking at her you were angry, but when it came to her health, then nothing else mattered.

"No, Castle, we need to talk." She was so eager about talking, and you know that it was gonna be one hell of a hard talk, but you didn't want it to happen while she was sick. It wasn't fair on you. You know you'd end up backing down for her.

She looked even paler in that moment, cold sweat beading on her forehead, so without thinking you just took her in your arms. You expected her kicking you in resistance or something, but it never happened and she let you pick her up. You laid her down gently on her bed, afraid she might break.

You forgot the last time you were sick and had somebody else worried about it. You could almost swear the only one who ever panicked when you were sick was your mother. No one else ever cared enough.

You almost never got sick when you were with Sorenson; your only ex you had thought of one day one time you did, he was away. Inteviewing for the job that would eventually break your relationship apart.

Demming stopped by to give you the medicine you needed, and then left, afraid to overstep your carefully constructed boundaries.

When it came to Josh - you were not allowed to get sick with him. "I'm not gonna risk infecting my patients, Kate," he said. So when you were sick that night, he sent you a get-well-soon text.

Castle would do anything for you; you knew that more than anything. Deep down you've always known it. But what you didn't understand was, even though you and he were not exactly on good terms lately – or even on speaking terms – he was here. He was mad at you – because of something you didn't know yet, and there he was - treating you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

And then he took you in his arms and suddenly you felt your chest tighten; because you couldn't remember the last time you'd been this physically close to him. And you were almost sure that was the last time you would ever see him. That this was probably the last time he'd ever look at you that way.

You swore then you would do anything to fix whatever it was you had to fix.

In case you were wondering where the flaws gone to, it's because the magic of Leigh, my dear friend who offered to help me correcting my grammatical errors (and adding beautiful sentences also). Leigh, you're amazing. Thank you.