a/n: Missing scene for Knockout, takes place after the hangar scene but before the funeral.

The city was only just holding on to the vestiges of slumber as Castle maneuvered Beckett's Crown Vic into a parking spot in front of her apartment building, killing the engine with a flick of his wrist. She was slumped against the passenger door, face ashen as she stared out at the sidewalk with unseeing eyes, making him hesitant to disturb her. He could almost feel the weariness seeping through her bones, weighing her down in its web, pulling her under so far he wasn't sure he was going to be enough to keep her afloat.

A tap on his window startled his gaze away from the staring detective, and Castle was soon face to face with an equally exhausted looking Kevin Ryan standing on the street next to him. He was doing a slightly better job of hiding it than Beckett was, jacket collar popped up around his neck, hair ruffling in the chilly breeze. He motioned in the direction of the door to Beckett's apartment, and headed over to wait with Esposito as Castle nodded in his direction. Without speaking, he leaned over to unbuckle Beckett's seatbelt for her, nudging her elbow with his fingers so that he could disentangle it from her body. His chest clenched as she let him without question, no sign of the normally obtusely independent woman who usually sat beside him.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly, voice sounding loud to his own ears from disuse. Neither had spoken a word on the entire drive over.

He watched her then, as she took one deep breath and straightened her spine, her face rearranging itself to resemble the mask of indifference she sometimes wore in the interrogation room. It would have been impressive if not for the acute knowledge he had of exactly what she was pushing down to summon that brave face. His heart ached for her. Her eyes cut in his direction for a split second, finding his unwavering gaze before she pushed open her door and stepped out onto the street. The look was an acknowledgement, a test. She was checking to make sure he was still with her, that seeing inside the chink in her armor wasn't scaring him away. Like anything ever could.

Once free of the car, she walked confidently, authoritatively in Ryan and Esposito's direction, looking from behind like she did every other day of the week except for the fact that she was not wearing the customary four inch heels she favored over the flat boots she was now stalking across the sidewalk with. They made her gait no less powerful. She was doing this for them, Castle knew, for Ryan and Esposito. She would be strong for them, a leader when their fallen captain was lying in a pool of his own blood on the cold cement of an airplane hangar with two bullets in his chest. Castle's own chest ached at the thought of it, heard the pop pop of the gunshots reverberating around the inside of his skull. He was very, very sure it would not be a sound he would ever forget.

The elevator ride up to the fourth floor was as quiet as the car ride over had been, and just as thick with barely contained grief. Ryan and Esposito stood woodenly in front of Castle and Beckett, leaving them all free from having to make any kind of eye contact. Castle could feel her there next to him, vibrating with a kind of exhaustion he felt acutely in his own bones. His arms ached from carrying her out of the hangar, fingers sore from pressing into her upper arms. His eyes dropped down to the sleeves of her turtleneck, wishing for x-ray vision and hoping that he had not left marks on her pale skin. Just the thought of it made his stomach tighten again.

When the elevator door separated, spilling the light from the hallway into the small lift, Ryan and Esposito immediately stepped out, but Castle felt her hesitate for a moment. Without thinking, he moved his hand against hers, tugging on her fingers before letting his own drop back to his side. She didn't look at him, but as she moved to step out into the hall, she let her hand return the gesture, squeezing for a millisecond before plunging into her pocket for her keys.

/

Apartment 407 was dark except for a lone lamp in the corner of her living room, casting long shadows in the pale light of the early morning. Sunshine was just starting to leak through her open blinds, the only confirmation that the horrifying night they had all just experienced was coming to a close. It wasn't a comforting sight to anyone. As hard as the demons of her mother's case were to face in the blackness of night, they were infinitely more difficult in the harsh light of day when there was nowhere left to hide.

Beckett led the way from her door to her living room, taking a seat in the chair on the right side of the room, alone. Ryan and Esposito shared the couch, and Castle sat himself opposite of her in the left chair, his eyes locked on her fidgeting hands. She took a deep breath, and then spoke, voice projecting across the small room strongly and without hesitation.

"No one," she started, looking at them each in turn. "No one outside of this immediate family ever needs to know about this." A tear slipped down Ryan's cheek unchecked at the word family, making Castle turn his burning eyes away for fear he would have the same reaction. Family. "As far as the world is concerned, Roy Montgomery died a hero. We owe it to him, all of us." With a nod, Beckett finished, the look in her eye certain, resolute. Castle was in awe of her in this moment, at her ability to forgive, to understand, to trust in a man so much as to give his family the peace hers had never quite been able to grasp. It was as moving as it was heartbreaking.

Ryan stood abruptly when he was sure she was done, swiping roughly at his cheeks. "We should go," he motioned toward the door, anxious to be out, away from the crushing realization that their captain was gone, never to return. Beckett stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Thank you," she said softly, and then released him. He nodded, squeezing her arm once in a brotherly gesture before motioning to Esposito with his head and letting himself out of the apartment, shutting the door softly behind them.

Castle stared at her as her shoulders visibly slumped at their departure, standing in the middle of her living room as still as a rock.

"Kate," he said softly, halfway between a question and a desperate whisper.

"I broke up with Josh," she let it fall out of her mouth, hands wringing the sleeves of her shirt. He froze in place behind her, shocked by both her timing and her confession itself. "After LA."

"Are you…" he started, not sure what to do with the information or why she had chosen to reveal it just then. He knew she needed time to deal with what had just happened in the airplane hangar, but this was an abrupt deflection, even from her. "Are you okay?"

He could see her subtly nod her head up and down, could picture the expression on her face, the way she was biting her lip, before she turned around to reveal it to him. He took two steps forward at the same time she did, putting them as close together as they could be without touching. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but they were free of tears. "I'm fine. Well…" she trailed off, smoothing her messy hair away from her eyes. Breaking up with Josh hadn't even been a blip on her radar of things to worry about if she was being honest with herself, especially in light of what they had both just been through.

Castle looked her over curiously, mentally recontextualizing the last month of their lives in the lens of Beckett being unattached. Suddenly her acquiescence to being a one writer girl seemed altogether more meaningful than he had let himself believe. Instead of speaking, Castle let his hand rise up to her face, pushing her hair behind an ear and cupping her cheek lightly. For all the words he had in his brain, none of the right ones were presenting themselves.

"Will you stay with me?" she finally asked, voice sounding so close to broken again it hardly registered in his ears.

"God, Kate, of course. Of course." Her hand rose up to fist in the stomach of his shirt, holding onto him, reassuring herself that he was real and that he wasn't leaving her.

"I just…If I close my eyes, I'm going to see…" she trailed off, breaking eye contact. She felt just as raw as she looked, and feeling needy in front of him wasn't helping matters.

Castle rose the hand not tangled in her hair up to her other cheek, forcing her eyes to meet his. He stared at her then, just looking, telling her everything he had ever wanted to say but never did outright. She might not be ready to hear it yet, but he knew she could see it there, behind his eyes, if she let herself look.

Moisture welled up in her eyes against her will as he cradled her face, making her reach up to mirror his position with her own hands. Her fingers were cold on his ears. She stood up on her tip toes, leveling their heights enough so that she could rest her forehead against his, sharing his air. She was staring at his nose when she spoke again. "Will you kiss me?" she breathed, voice so small it barely puffed against his lips.

"Kate," she hushed him with a finger across his mouth.

"Please Castle, I want to forget." Her thumb was brushing against the fullness of his bottom lip as she spoke, finally tilting her head back enough to see his eyes. What she saw there was frightening, a clarity that hit her like lightening in the gut. She knew why he was hesitating, why he didn't want this to happen this way, for all the wrong reasons instead of the right ones he had so carefully built up in his books and in his head and in hers. "Just once?" she whispered, lips ghosting against his, the impulse to press forward almost intolerable for them both.

Just as she thought he was going to release her, Castle nodded once, so slightly she almost missed it, and very carefully used his hands to tilt her head back just enough to properly catch her lips with his own, pressing them over the curve of her with exactly the right amount of pressure to be pleasant without being demanding. She sighed against him, pressing back, letting her lips fall open just a little bit. He followed her lead, kissing her slowly, carefully, thoroughly. Again and again and again he kissed her until her tongue flicked out at his lip for a fraction of a second and he pulled back from her, opening his eyes to find hers wide and clear and staring at him.

Before stepping away, Beckett paused to drop a light kiss on Castle's cheek, rubbing over it with her thumb before dropping her hands completely. She watched as his eyes flicked to her couch, and then to the hallway that led to her bedroom. She would laugh if she weren't so completely exhausted. "Stop being such a gentleman," she sighed, grasping his hand in hers and leading him down the hall to her room.

The lights were all off when they entered, and she didn't bother to turn them on, instead toeing off her shoes and climbing right over her comforter to face plant in her pillow. "Just take off your shoes and get in Castle," she mumbled, shimmying under the covers without moving her head. He rolled his eyes at her behind her back, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt. She felt the bed dip beside her when he got in, and then a puff of cool air as he lifted the blanket, sliding in next to her. He hesitated for a moment before she felt him lean over her shoulder to whisper in her ear.

"Do you want to cuddle or something?" he asked, a hint of his usual jovialness seeping through. She thought she could hear him smiling. Her chest ached.

She reached a hand behind her, coming into contact with his hip, and pulled him into her side. "Don't get fresh."

"I wouldn't dream of it, detective." His body was warm as he pressed it fully against her, draping an arm across her waist loosely. "I haven't forgotten that you sleep with a gun," his breath tickled across her ear.

"Castle," she groaned, bumping her backside into him. "Go to sleep."

"Goodnight Kate." He closed his eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking him.

/

It was 11am when Castle woke up with Kate Beckett's head burrowed into the side of his neck, one leg stuck between his and her wild mane of hair flung across his entire face. He sputtered a little bit to get it out of his mouth as he tried to extract himself from her as carefully as possible, not wanting to disturb his sleeping partner. If anyone needed the rest, it was her. There was no sneaking past her though, and she mumbled half asleep as she rubbed at her bleary eyes. "Castle?"

"Shh," he said, smoothing the hair out of her face and dropping a kiss on her forehead like he did it every morning. "Alexis," he said simply, motioning toward her bedroom door. "I never came home and I didn't call." Beckett nodded sleepily, rolling over so her face was now on his pillow. He stood to retrieve his shirt and shoes and watched her for a moment. "Call me when you wake up," he said softly into the room as he backed his way out, but she was already sleeping.

/

Beckett woke again at 1 o'clock, heart racing and head pounding as the remnants of gunshots fired around in her sleep addled brain. She had slept peacefully until Castle had left, but the nightmares had come unbidden once he was gone. Swinging her legs over the side of her mattress, Beckett padded into her kitchen, head screaming for caffeine. Just as she was about to reach into her cabinet to pull out the coffee grinds, the smell of fresh, already made coffee wafted up from her countertop and into her nose, making her stomach rumble. Her eyebrows knitted together quizzically as she approached her coffee maker, finding a full pot of warm coffee and a handwritten note.

This coffee pot is worse than the old one at the precinct.

I'm buying you a new one, so enjoy your last two cups.

Rick

She rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness as she poured herself a cup, popping it in the microwave for 20 seconds. As the timer counted down, she thought about everything that had happened the night before. Montgomery's dying confessions, Castle carrying her out of the hanger by her arms, shots, blood, a kiss. Her head was pounding with the weight of it all as the buzzer rang, coffee ready for consumption. Her stomach twisted as the hot liquid slid down her throat, but she'd rather vomit it all back up later than live with caffeine withdrawal on top of the mess her life had turned into in the past few days. Just as she was about to chug down a couple of gulps and jump into a scalding shower, her phone started skittering across the countertop where she had left it that morning. At the sight of his name on the caller ID, she felt herself relax a little, thumbing the answer button. "Beckett."

"Oh good, you're awake. Open your door and you will find many treats, including donuts, a cappuccino machine, and a ruggedly handsome writer who is dying to – " Beckett cut him off when she opened the door in his face.

"Now you'll never know what I am dying to do," his eyes were trying to sparkle at her, despite the dark circles underneath. She appreciated the gesture.

"I can use my imagination, Castle. Get in here," she rolled her eyes to the sky as he gave her a saucily scandalized look and lumbered into her apartment carrying a small bag of donuts and a fancy looking box. He set his goods on the counter top and then turned to look at her fully. She held his intense gaze for a moment, sensing he was about to ask her how she was doing, after what had happened, but she couldn't stand to think about actually talking about it, so she took a sip of her coffee and then started backing out of the kitchen.

"I'm going to go hit the shower," she said, pointing over her back. He leveled her with a serious gaze, one she felt bad about avoiding. When had that started happening? "I'm fine, Castle," she finally whispered as he nodded once at her and then reached for the coffee box.

"Bet you I can have this up and running faster than you can shower."

She scoffed. "You mean like how fast you broke the one at the precinct that one time?"

"Katherine Beckett, how dare you."

She rolled her eyes at him again. "Okay then Mr. Castle, I will take that bet."

"What do I get if I win?"

"I'll let you think about that while I am getting soapy in the shower."

He raised an eyebrow in her direction and she shook her head, finally making her way into the bathroom, feeling more human than she had when she woke up. She heard a crash and a loud swear come from the kitchen as she turned the tap on, running some of the trickling water onto her face.

Deciding on what she wanted as her winnings when she won the bet was a much better way to spend a shower than the crushing realization of what would come the moment they stepped back out into the real world, and just for a few minutes, she let herself indulge, let herself forget, let herself be thankful that even though so many people had been taken from her life so brutally, she still had him.

She had someone to stand with her.