Beckett can't stop looking at the sky.
She's sitting on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, her back pressed against the wall, hands knitted. She holds her knees together, her head tilting upwards that slightest amount, eyes looking up at the purple-orange sky. The day's about to end and she doesn't even notice. She doesn't even notice that she's been sitting there for the past hour, sitting with tears and soft silence and heartbreak. She doesn't even notice that her hands were shaking, softly, but still shaking, and that she's pressing white thumbs into her palms. She just sits there, and looks at the sky.
She knows it's stupid, and really quite useless, but as long as she's looking at the sky, she knows that Castle is somewhere under the same sky, and that's almost enough for her. She knows that Castle is somewhere with the same sky in the corner of his eyes, over his head, Castle, her Castle. Beckett breathes in softly and wipes another tear off of her cheek.
She hasn't seen her Castle in a long time.
Only the echo of a person she'd loved, still loves, a zombie of the Castle that laughed and worried and brought her coffee and Chinese takeouts and actually cared about her.
Only the echo of a person she'd loved, and loved her back.
(Just they both didn't know it.)
And now it's too late, too late to take back the words that she screamed in the interrogation room, too late to break down the walls and let him in. Because he's already walked away, and he's already stopped trying. It's too late.
And so she pushes herself off the floor, rubbing at her already bloodshot eyes and trying to ignore the pain. She walks steadily over to the kitchen, rubbing her hands together to stop the shaking, hoping that she has some strong whisky so she can forget for the night. But as she reaches the cold tiles of the room, her eyes raking across the counter, she notices a coffee cup on the bench top, a coffee cup which was once given to her by Castle, drunk by her as she listened to his crazy theories, drunk by her as she watched him laugh with the boys, his chest rumbling as he shook.
Drunk by her once upon a time, when Castle loved her and she loved him back, when they were partners, exchanging looks and finishing each other's sentences.
And suddenly she can't take it anymore.
And she finds herself gripping her knees, hands shaking more than before, curled up on the white tiles, tears streaming down her cheeks and socked feet curling against the floor. She finds herself reaching for her phone desperately, and calling Castle. She doesn't really expect him to pick up, because he never picks up anymore. But she still finds herself calming, hearing his voice as she reaches the answering machine.
(But she's still shaking, she's still shaking because he's not here with her, he's not catching her tears or giving her coffee, not smiling at her, not pouting at her, not anything.)
(And it hurts so much how she misses him.)
But she calls him again and again, hearing the tone at the end of his message, hands shaking less but still shaking. And on the fourteenth time, he picks up.
"Castle."
His voice is emotionless, as per usual, but Beckett can't refrain from digging her nails into her palms.
"Castle," she echoes, not really absorbing the fact that it's him, even though it is. She hears a sigh coming from the other side.
"What do you want, Beckett?"
You. I want you, the Castle that I'd known for the past four years, the one that would laugh and pout at me, the one that made my job easier, the one that I enjoyed being with, the one that would pull my pigtails and I wouldn't mind.
Beckett doesn't know what to say, because she never really expected him to pick up in the first place. She didn't expect him to sound so cold and hard to talk to. She lets out a shaky breath, and closes her eyes momentarily, because she's so scared, so scared that what she says on the phone would make her lose him forever.
She looks up, and as she does, she catches a bit of purple and orange in the corner of her eyes.
"Can you see the sky, Castle? Can you see the sunset?" she breathes.
"What?" Castle falters for a second, and his voice sounds so hurt, so scared and it's only for a second, but after that second, Beckett has to force herself to breathe. There's a pregnant pause, and he answers again, his voice as cold and hard as before.
"Yeah. I can. Why?"
"It's nothing, Castle." She breathes out, but it comes out as more as a strangled sob, but she can't help it, because it just hurts so much. Another pause. "Where are you?"
Castle takes so long to answer that she thinks that he's hung up on her. Not that she'd be surprised if he did.
"The park."
She realises she can hear the creaking of the swings in the background. The park.
"Which one, Castle?" She hears a sigh.
"Why do you care, Beckett?"
Because she loves him. Because she wants to see him. Because she regrets everything so much, because she wants to break down her walls, and dive headfirst into it together. Because.
"Because I love you." She's realises she's saying it before it even registers into her brain.
"Kate-"
Beckett doesn't know what to do. She clams her hand to her mouth straight away, and rips the phone from her ear and presses end call. She needs to deal with this face to face.
Because I love you.
The words replay in her head as she pushes herself up and grabs her coat.
The sky's gotten darker by the time Beckett reaches the park. Castle's been ringing her phone, but she hasn't been answering. She walks gingerly to the swings, the soft wet grass cushioning her steps. A lone figure's sitting there, and she pauses. She stands still, and realises she can hear him humming. You talk too much by Clarence Carter. It makes her smile for a second.
It takes her a while to keep moving, and she gently sits on the swing beside him. She sees him rub his eyes. He's stopped humming.
"Hey Beckett," he says quietly. His voice is hoarse and soft at the same time.
"Hey."
They both sit there for a while, swinging gently with the breeze. Castle's hands grasp the swing so tightly his knuckles are white. Neither of them really knows what to say. Finally, Beckett gathers her voice.
"So you know."
"Yeah."
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what she's talking about.
Another pause. Castle, this time speaks.
"And you love me."
"Yeah." Beckett says it so softly she can barely hear it. She knows Castle can, because she sees him lift his eyes up. He's looking straight at her now, and he just looks so tired. She can see faint tear tracks on his cheeks. Oh God, Castle. But she realises that she probably looks worse. Katherine Beckett, strongest, best cop in the 12th precinct, the strongest woman Castle's ever seen, is sitting on a swing, with bloodshot eyes, a broken heart, and breaking walls. Pathetic.
She looks back down again, down at her lap, down on the grass. She can't bear to look at him anymore.
"I'm so sorry, Castle," she whispers, her breath making the air smoke, "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I'm so sorry I lied. I'm sorry I had my walls. I'm sorry I have so much baggage, that I wasn't ready. I'm sorry I'm a coward."
"Hey," Castle stands up. He looks worn-out and dishevelled. Beckett stands up too, but she still can't bear to look at his face. But Castle gently forces her chin up with his thumb, and she finds her eyes drifting up to his.
She isn't nearly as tall as him without heels.
"You're not a coward, Kate," Castle continues, "you're the strongest person I know." Beckett sniffs and looks away, trying to ignore the tears clogging her throat.
"You might wanna think twice about that."
"Kate," Castle draws a shaky breath, and exhales slowly, "you're not a coward, okay?" He draws closer, and his fingers let go of her jaw and weave through her hair softly. "I know you. Remember? I'm the one who wrote three books about you." He smiles, but it's a sad one. "I'm the one who stuck with you through thick and thin, through almost four years counting, pulling your pigtails, bringing you coffee, watching you smile, waiting, waiting 'cause I knew you're worth waiting for. Waiting because I love you. I still love you, Kate."
"Castle," Kate chokes out. She can't say much more. She can't say how relieved she is, how much she's missed him, how much she's just so sorry, still so sorry, because they're partners and partners shouldn't have to lie to each other. She was just so terrified that he'd left her. "I've missed you so much."
"I never left," Castle replies.
"Rick," Kate chokes out again, because now all she can say is his name. Castle gathers his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug. She trembles against him, and he gently rocks them, and he quietly smiles because he knows that even though Kate still has those walls, she's let him in. She's let him in, and it's all gonna be okay.
It's all gonna be okay.
They stand there for a while, Beckett's face buried in the crook of Castle's neck, gently rocking, him kissing her hair and whispering to her again and again how much he loves her and just how sorry he is.
They're both just so relieved.
But they can't stand there forever, and so Beckett reluctantly pulls back, her hair messed up and her eyes slightly redder than before. But she's smiling. They're both smiling, even with eyes brimming with tears and words unspoken, they're both smiling.
It's a start, if nothing else.
It's a start, because the story always follows the start, a story full of love, and coffee, and late nights together, and hugs after hard cases, and walls breaking down. And they'll make it up as they go. Because they love each other.
And it's all gonna be okay.
It's a beautiful scene, with a striking sunset as their backdrop, their hands entwined and their mouths breathing smoke in the cold autumn air.
"Cherries." He murmurs tenderly, and Beckett's heart stops.
Beckett's heart stops as he slowly, almost torturously leans in, his head tilting slightly as he catches her by the lips. It's so gentle, nothing like the last kiss they shared undercover, so tender that she can feel his breath before he reaches her lips. It lasts for what seems like seconds before Castle draws back and looks at her with what seems like a quiet amazement.
"Rick…" she whispers, her lips starting to falter into a smile.
"Shh…" he covers her mouth lightly with his fingers. "We can talk later."
"Why not now?"
Castle releases Kate and lets his arms fall loose beside her. He looks up, smiling, and reaches for her hand.
"Because now we forget, we forget about everything. And we watch the sunset."
And they're both smiling now, wide smiles because nothing here exists but their happiness.
And they watch the sky together.