Disclaimer: Still searching for my own Andrew Marlowe...
The room was familiar by now. She had spent countless hours sitting in the large leather chairs, pacing around the softly lit area, spilling her guts and hoping that the man across from her would help her find a place to put them back again.
"Kate, it's been two months."
She didn't look up from the sleeve of her sweatshirt, sticking her thumb through the hole she had torn in the cuff years ago. "So?"
Burke kept his hands folded on his lap. He had long ago stopped bringing the pad of paper and pen over to the facing chairs with Kate. She had admitted that it made the whole deal feel like an interrogation, hated seeing what it felt like from the other side of the table.
"Tell me what you've done."
He didn't need to clarify; she knew exactly what he was talking about. "I took down the board in my apartment." Kate didn't look up, not sure she could hide the sadness in her eyes if she made contact.
Burke nodded once. "Good. And did that help?"
"I don't know." Kate shook her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It took two days. I had to keep stopping. I know it's not like I was, but it felt like I was abandoning her."
"Kate, that isn't what you are doing. Finding something else to live for is not abandoning your mother's case."
"But it felt like it!" she exclaimed, letting her hands fall into her lap, the hole in her cuff forgotten. "It hurt to do exactly what I promised I never would do. Shove her case into a box and push it to the back of my closet."
He could feel her eyes on him, trying to read his facial muscles for some hint of what he was feeling. Kate hated that the psychiatrist had a better poker face than she did. "You know that you need to do this. That this will help you if you want to pursue something more than what you have right now."
Statements, not questions. She knew the answers already.
"I don't want to change," Kate sighed, turning to look out the shaded windows, fighting the tears she could feel clogging up in her throat. "But I don't want to stay the same as I am right now. I can't do that to…"
"To who, Kate?"
"Me?" She hated that it came out sounding more like a question than a resolute statement. She shook her head a few seconds after she spoke. "That's not true. Not entirely."
Burke gave a single, slow nod. "Then to who else?"
"Him." Kate reached up to wipe away the traitorous tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. She watched the salty water darken the fabric of her sleeve. "I hate doing this to him most of all. It's like we're running some sort of race and he had a head start for the whole thing and I'm struggling to keep up. I don't want him to leave me behind because I'm too slow figuring my life out."
"It's not a race, Kate." Burke's quiet voice, laced with the same steel that had always given her such confidence in the man, had her turning to face him. "He has already proven that he is willing to wait for you to sort things out. Is that so hard to believe?"
"No one else has."
"He isn't everyone else. Kate, if you truly care for him as I believe you do, you already know that. The very fact that you doubt every single step you take proves that you care for him as much as he cares for you. You want to do this right and he understands."
Unable to sit still, Kate unfolded herself from the chair, tugging the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to cover her hands as she circled her chair. "So what do I do from here?"
"Keep doing what you are doing now. Little steps. Learn to live without the burden of your mother's case on your shoulders. See where things lead with him. Do what feels natural."
"This is one of those 'I'll know what to do when it happens' moments, isn't it?"
Burke cracked a smile, let a light laugh escape before he nodded. "Sort of. Listen, Kate. This thing with Castle is special to you. You're already a step ahead most people. He knows you. All of you. And from what you have told me about him, he accepts it all. The fact you want to change, to make yourself as whole as possible just tells me that you are both prepared for this."
"Doesn't really feel like it. And then it does. It feels so completely right." She swallowed the urge to laugh because it felt as though it would be hysterical instead of genuine. "But you think this is working? This attempt to move on?"
"From what you've said, yes. Again, baby steps, Kate." He got up, holding the door open for her. "Call if you need to talk again. You know I'm always willing to rearrange my schedule."
Kate thanked him, grabbed her coat off the pegs on the wall. Once again, she was leaving his office not sure if she was feeling lighter or more weighed down. She was saved the night of too much thinking by a phone call with a case.
He met her at the scene, silently handing her the coffee she had come to expect from him. Smiles passed over the lids before the two of them turned their minds away from one another and whatever chance at a relationship they had and focused on the young woman slumped against the side of a broken-down car in a wide alley.
Baby steps, Kate told herself, taking a sip of the coffee. Everything in time.
A/N: This comes from a prompt from tumblr's dannimeanbecks using the lyrics to The Grate's "Change."