I didn't plan on writing tonight, but this just started writing itself while I was brushing my teeth. It's based on the sneak peek that has been released for Knockout - so if you are spoiler free, exit now. I don't know if things will happen like this but this is where the muse took me, it turns out she wanted some angst tonight. I'd love to know what you thought.

I don't own anything you recognize - the first line is taken directly from the sneak peek.

Just a Word

"You could be happy Kate. You deserve to be happy." He watches as she processes what he has said to her. She doesn't move away, she simply stares at him. Her eyes focused on his. "We could be happy." He adds, watching as realization crosses her face. He'd told her the truth tonight, he'd mentioned what had become unmentionable and now he can see that he has pushed her too far.

His voice rings in her ears, she hears the same words over and over and although she has already told him that he does not know her, her heart beats faster and she feels her stomach flip, both of them in betrayal to the thoughts she is trying to hold on to.

She will not prove him right, she will not simply walk away, not when the answers she has been seeking for so long are so close, so close that she can almost see them. Instead of confusion and false leads that have promised and delivered emptiness – there is a small chink of light, a small chance that she might be able to tell her father that she, and she alone found out why her mother was murdered.

She glares back towards Castle; she can feel him staring at her, awaiting her response, expecting a reaction. "What we are," she begins, "is over." She says firmly, before her voice rises as she continues, "Castle, we are over." The words are said with all of the strength she possesses, "I will find the person who is responsible," she adds before pausing, "and I will find them alone."

He steps back as her words burn him, she might as well have slapped him clean across the face. He thought he'd come closer to solving the mystery that was Kate Beckett. He thought that conversations about one writer girls, jealousy and finding someone who just kept showing up had gotten him closer. But it seemed that in two minutes he'd landed himself right back at chapter one of their story – where he didn't know her and she didn't know him.

She watched as confusion crosses his face and his eyes dart away from hers. She takes this as her cue to step around him – turning her back towards him, showing him that his presence is no longer needed or in fact wanted. She listens as he leaves her apartment and the door closes behind him. She returns to pick up her gun from where she left it and sits down on her couch.

There is no knock on the door, he doesn't come back, and she sighs and clenches her gun tightly. Always had just been a word, it didn't mean forever, it wasn't an unsaid promise; it was just something that was said. In the end it was always her alone, searching for answers that had seemed too far beyond her grasp. She has a chance this time. She will not give it up, even if it does cost her the highest price she can pay – her life.

Slowly he steps out into the cold night air, she was right about the protective detail, he can see the parked car a few meters away from him. They stand out like a rookie mistake in a new writer's first novel. He crosses the road and stands opposite her building, he can see the light from the room he'd just been standing in. Quietly he steps back and into the shadows – he is her partner, her friend, her plucky sidekick, to him always means something, it isn't just a word. It's a promise to be there whenever she needs him, even if she tries to push him away.

It's a promise that he believes in, even if it means nothing to her.