She throws her head back and laughs, her chuckle holding only contempt. She glares at him, a cold glint in her emerald eyes.
"Castle, you crossed the line this time."
"You said—"
She's shaking her head even as he raises his voice in protest.
"This is my case. It isn't your place to try and solve it."
"You said you couldn't leave it until it gets solved," he says gently.
Her voice is anything but gentle. She's yelling. "And you couldn't wait?" she demands. "You had to figure it out yourself? You were that impatient?"
"That's not it," he insists, angry at the accusation. She crosses her arms, glaring at him incredulously.
"You know what, Castle? Forget it. If you can't wait—"
"That's not it!" he shouts, startling her. She steps back, her arms falling to her side.
"You know," he begins, frustrating causing him to breathe more heavily. "You know that's not it. You know I'd wait as long as you need, as long as you ask me to. This isn't about getting anywhere any faster."
"Then what is this about, Castle?"
"It's about keeping you alive, Kate!"
Neither speaks. Her eyes are wide, his are narrow, but neither leaves the other's.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again." His voice is steady, his eyes stern but betraying the softness in his heart as he looks into hers. "Everyone involvced in this case is dead. Someone tried to kill you. I am not losing you." His voice drops to a shaky whisper. "I can't lose you."
She slowly releases a ragged breath. He continues.
"I…I care about you, Kate. And I won't lose you. If that means I have to solve your mother's murder, I'll do it. If it means we never move past the friend stage, fine. If you never speak to me again…harder, but if it means you're alive…I'll take it. I will not let this case end you."
She sizes up the look in his eyes, measuring his determination, his severity, his dedication. She knows he means it. And she knows what it means.
In a whisper, trying not to plead, she asks, "Even if it ends us?"
He searches her eyes for a sign, a hint, that this is a challenge, a test, and that it does not actually foreshadow what she is about to say. He can't believe—he doesn't want to believe—that she means it.
But nothing in her gaze tells him otherwise.
He swallows and says nothing.
She turns. She leaves. She closes his apartment door. Castle throws the first thing he can get his hands on.
She swipes at a tear and squeezes her eyes shut against others. His words resound in her head. She thinks of everyone this case has taken from her, how everyone is gone.
She thinks about always.
Squaring her shoulders, she walks down the hallway. She doesn't look back.
She won't lose him either.