Disclaimer: Castle and all of its characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, Terri Edda Miller, and ABC Studio Productions.

"They say I was baptized in dirty water

By the hands of the Devil himself,

Between the banks of the whiskey river,

Beside the highway to hell.

I've got scars on my heart and knuckles,

I've got debts that I ain't paid,

Oh, but I've got a blessing sent down from Heaven,

Baby, you're my savin' grace.

Girl, you've got an outlaw ready to lay down all my guns,

A dirty old hound dog learnin' new tricks like cuddlin' up.

You got a hellcat purrin' like a kitten,

You got a sinner down on his knees.

It had to be hell on an angel lovin' the Devil outta me."

~"Hell on an Angel" Brantley Gilbert

The charcoal colored sky crackled and flashed with lightning as the storm bombarded the city below. The heavy rain pelted the asphalt below as he moved through the throngs of people that seemed not to notice the storm. They were tucked safely under their umbrellas or the cover of a newspaper as they made their way to their jobs and the like.

Richard Castle was completely unaware of the pounding rain or the crashing thunder. The only thought that he was able to process was that he had hurt her. He couldn't shake the image of the tears running down her face and her pained whisper telling him to get out.

It was stupid, in retrospect, to think that he could change who he was. He hurt the people that he cared about, that was just how it happened.

In all honesty, he couldn't say that he blamed her for kicking him out on his ass. Sure, they had been fighting, but the words that he had spoken were low, even for him.

"Well, I'm sorry that my work comes first. You knew that when you got into this relationship, Rick. You should be a little more accepting of the situation that I'm in here." She fumed, running her hands through her hair angrily.

"Oh, because you're so perfect, Katherine." He snarled as he watched her pace back and forth in front of him. She stopped and stared at him, her eyes fiery and angry.

"Rick, I don't know what else I can tell you. I've worked my ass off to get to where I am today, I'm not going to throw that all away just because you want me to 'spend more time with you'. This case is important. I have to get closure for that family."

"I understand that, Kate, but you're running yourself into the ground on this one! You haven't slept in two days, you've barely eaten anything. I'm your husband, I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

"I don't need you to babysit me. I'm a big girl, and I can handle this on my own. When I solve this case I will rest, but, until that little girl knows what happened to her mother, I'm not going to be able to sleep. I don't know what you don't understand about that."

"Kate, you always just assume that I'm going to be there to pick up the pieces when you shatter the glass, and I'm sick of it." He snapped, swallowing down the rest of the scotch in his glass.

"You said always."

"Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong." The words tasted heavy like venom on his tongue and, even as he spoke them, he regretted the statement.

Kate's mouth hung somewhere between open and closed as if she was searching for the words to say to him. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she stared at him, her body rigid.

"That's...how could you..." She sucked in a sharp breath, seeming to be composing herself before speaking. "Get out." She seethed, her anger bubbling over. She pointed at the door, her arm rigid, as the angry tears freely flowed down her tanned cheeks. Rick was going to protest, to apologize, to do something other than just sit there, dumbfounded at his own audacity. But instead, he pulled himself off of the couch, slipped his coat on, and headed out into the cool New York night air.

His hand hovered over the door, suspended in midair. It was a bit surreal that he was about to knock on his own door. That was weird, right? So, he let his hand fall to the knob and opened the door to the loft, stepping in carefully as if he was walking into a mine field.

He shrugged out of the soaked jacket and hung it on the rack as he kicked out of his shoes. The loft was deathly quiet as he moved through the kitchen. The smell of coffee permeated the air around him, drawing his attention to the percolating coffee maker on the marble counter top. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was nearing one in the morning and she was making coffee. That was odd.

The soft whimpers from the bathroom had him picking up his pace until he rounded the corner and found Kate sitting on the tiled floor, her knees tucked up to her chest.

He strode across the floor and sunk down next to her before pulling her into his lap. Her fingers clutched his shirt tightly and she tucked her head underneath his chin. The sobs continued as she wept into the fabric of his dress shirt. He could smell the faint, biting scent of alcohol on her breath.

"You've been drinking." He whispered, his nose buried in the tendrils of her hair, inhaling the soft cherry top notes of the shampoo. She nodded slowly.

"You left." She whimpered. He leaned back so that he could look at her face, his blue eyes cool with apprehension. "You said that you would never leave me. That you always had my back."

"You told me to leave, Kate." He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. "You told me to get out, so I did. We were both mad. We said things that we didn't mean." He brushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you." His thumb wiped a tear from her cheek as he cupped her face. "I love you. And when I said always, I meant always."

"I love you too, Rick. I'm sorry that I fell down a rabbit hole again."

"I understand why you let this case get to you, Kate. But that's why I'm here. To drag you back out of the rabbit hole. Kicking and screaming." He smirked, bring a smile to her face as well. "Are we okay?"

"We're okay." She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Good, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Katherine Beckett. I don't want to lose you. Ever." He held her tightly to his chest and leaned down to place a deep kiss to her lips. She tasted of the good bourbon he kept in the back of his liquor cabinet, and the faintest undertones of the spiced pumpkin latte that she had been drinking when he'd returned home, before their fight. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. "I love you. More then words could ever express."

"That means a lot coming from you, writer boy." She grinned, running her thumb over his lower lip gently. Rick brushed his nose against hers and tightened his arms around her waist.

"You are my saving grace, Kate. Before you I was...I was skating through my life, expecting to get by on my looks and charm. But you were different. You made me work to earn your respect, and you made me think that, maybe, I could be a better man. You've completely changed me, Kate, and I love you more and more everyday for it."

"I love you too, Rick. You've shown me that I can be loved, even though I'm damaged goods."

"We're all damaged goods. It's not about learning how to 'fix someone' that is broken. It's about learning how to love each and every one of the pieces." He replied. Kate smiled up at him shyly.

"Always?" She whispered.

"And forever."

Thoughts? Drop me a review and let me know.

Much love,

J. Rook