Title: Fade Away
Summary: One possible take on the two weeks between the events that take place in the season 5 premiere and the start of the next episode. Kate deals with what has transpired, pulls herself back together, and she and Castle eventually get to the place they are at in the beginning of 5x02.
Rating: T
Pairing: Castle/Beckett
Spoilers: Season 5 premiere "After the Storm"
A/N: Thank you to mrspollifax for her beta work.

Kate spent forty-five minutes in her therapist's office earlier, which turned out to be a waste of time because she couldn't verbalize a single thing. At long last, she knows who was ultimately responsible for her mother's murder; she confronted him, threatened him, spoke her piece and left him alive when she walked away.

She sat in Dr. Burke's office pulling at a thread on the sleeve of her sweater and searching for something, anything to say. All she felt was a shiver over her skin and a dull ache in her chest. She blamed the air conditioner and wrapped the cardigan sweater around herself tighter.

Dr. Burke told her to take some time, that the two-week suspension could be a good thing, a chance to gain some perspective. She didn't tell him about Castle, and she's not sure why exactly because he's the only part of the past few days that makes sense. Kate even has a sneaking suspicion that the doctor would be proud of her. But she and Castle are keeping it to themselves, one hurried conversation in her hallway having decided that much at least, and she couldn't settle on whether her therapist should be the exception.

Since then Kate's been at home. She scrubbed the bathroom, vacuumed, did three loads of laundry, paid some bills, and currently is standing in front of the open pantry door considering the merits of alphabetizing canned goods.

"It's going to be a long suspension," she mutters to herself.

She sweeps up all the bits and pieces of evidence against Senator Bracken and puts them in a box, then turns toward the makeshift murder board. The pictures and unanswered questions taped up there on the window, with diffuse light filtering in from behind, represent her search for so many years. One by one, she takes them down and packs them into the box as well. Then she seals it with tape and leaves it in the middle of her dining room table.

Kate's not sure how long she's been sitting on the couch with the sound of the dishwasher scouring away in the background, as if it's a crowd cheering for the final chore having been accomplished. She sits in her clean house, everything around her in perfect order, and feels anesthetized. Her fingers are twisting around each other in her lap and her feet curl inside thick socks that are out of place in late spring weather.

Chaos has become so familiar over the years. She's not sure what to do with this… whatever it is? Numbness. Stillness. It's far more troubling than if she sat here crying.

There's a knock at the door.

Castle takes a deep breath after he knocks. He's not sure what he'll find on the other side. It's been a rollercoaster ride, so surely there should be throw up involved. First he'd thought he lost Beckett, and then it turned out that he didn't, as illustrated by nakedness and rolling around in the dark of his bedroom. Her features highlighted in the sharp, quick, nightclub-like strobe of lightning.

Then they're suddenly chasing down Johanna Beckett's murderer and Kate makes a deal with the devil for her life. She's been reinstated with the NYPD, but on suspension, and there was bold grabbing of him in the elevator followed by the celebratory dash out of the Twelfth yesterday, where they hardly made it back to his loft in time to tear each other's clothes off. The sex has been great; the rest has been a little confusing. But on balance, Castle will take it.

Kate left his place this morning with far less 'walk-of-shame' type sneaking off than was required last time. She promised to call him later. The day has passed and he's not heard a thing. He sent a text around three in the afternoon that went unanswered, and once Alexis was off again for the evening with some friends, Castle decided to just show up at Beckett's.

He can do that now, right? Not like he didn't all the time before the um, whatever it is that they're doing now.

The door opens and Beckett smiles at him, though he can tell it's taking some effort and only reaches about the halfway stage before disappearing again. Her eyes are flat and he can't read them.

She's been so strong though this, though it's not like she wasn't always strong when her mother's case bore itself, dreaded, again and again. But her performance this time around has been particularly stellar, with only a hint or two of what must be tearing her apart inside. And now that she finally has the answers she's been seeking, it wouldn't surprise anyone to see her lose it for once.

"Hey," he says gently.

"Come on in."

"I sent you a message earlier."

She's confused for a moment as she closes the door behind them. "I'm sorry, Castle. I forgot that I said I'd call."

"It's OK." He's just glad that she appears to be in one piece. He wasn't sure before, when they left the political event going their separate ways, if he should give Beckett some space or keep a close eye on her for any signs. Of what exactly, he's not sure, but signs nonetheless.

"I was…" She glances around her place. "I spent the day cleaning, and probably didn't hear the phone over the vacuum."

"No problem."

"Alexis OK?"

He recognizes what she's doing, but allows it. If she needs to do this first, their standard routine of checking in with each other on the daily and mundane, then he'll let her. Sooner or later, he has strategies to encourage her to unlock and open up. About a lot of things, how she's doing, what it felt like to face that man, not to mention their future. Now is not the time, and there's no rush.

"Alexis is fine. She's trying to punish herself, but Mother and I are insisting the hangover was punishment enough."

"Not like it will be her only one."

Castle tries for a shocked expression. "Have you met my kid? Chances are she's going to drink responsibly each and every time from now on, for the rest of her life. Despite my best efforts."

"How disappointed you must be."

"I know, right?"

It's going really well until his eyes land on the box sealed up and sitting on her dining room table. He doesn't think much of it for a second, until the absence of fragments of papers that had once been spread across that same table registers, and he understands what the box symbolizes.

He swings to meet her eyes and she looks almost guilty. "Spring cleaning," she says.

"You could have waited. I could've helped."

"I know." She crosses and sits down on a stool in front of her kitchen island. He's not sure if it's a move to put distance between them, or her legs can't hold her up under this topic of conversation.

"Kate," he follows, and sits down across from her, refusing to let this go. She can lean on him now, more than ever before. She has to know that, right? He's not just a sex toy. Not that he's complaining if she needs that too.

"I just…" She sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her head like she can't find the words. They're in there, but he gets the sense that they're rattling around so much that she can't dislodge them coherently. Suddenly he knows what he needs to do for her.

"It's OK," he tells her, because that's part one. It can't all be solved in a matter of days, and he's here to work though it with her, for as long as it takes. But for the moment, it's OK to be… merely OK.

"I need your help finding a secure place for the box," she says. "At some point we may want to spend more time trying to piece it together."

"But not right now."

Her shoulders sag in acceptance. "In the meantime, nobody can get to it and destroy it."

"Or trace where it is."

She looks up at him then. He knows that she's grateful for the support but there's something else that he can't read. Time to put his flash of inspiration regarding a plan into action. All he needs is about 15 or 20 minutes to place a call, among other things, and of course, to convince her.

"I'll take care of it in the morning. But for now, we're going to forget about all that."

She raises an eyebrow at him. Castle's sure she expects him to suggest they get naked. Is he that painfully apparent? Jeez. But it'll make the surprise that much better, he likes keeping Detective Beckett on her toes.

"I'm going to go." Now her expression changes, and yes, he's got her. He's got her good. "I'll be back in 20 minutes."

"Why?"

"Be ready to go out."

"Castle, I really–"

"Wait." He was prepared for her objections once she figured out where he might be leading. But his mind is made up and he's got all the counterpoint arguments prepared. "Hear me out before you say no."

"Fine."

She probably doesn't feel like going anywhere beyond her doorway, but he hopes she'll trust him that he'll take her somewhere comfortable. The other aspect of her worries he can certainly do something about. If they go anywhere trendy the gossip blogs will write about them the next day, and then the papers will get wind, and soon the entire city and all of the Internet will know. Like he'd let that happen before she was ready? Please.

"I know a family-run Italian place not far from here." He tells her. "The owner will let us sneak in the back, and they have these high-backed booths, so nobody will ever know we were there. And the food, Beckett, I'm telling you that you'll love this place."

"I don't know, Castle."

All that's left is truth. He can't pretend anymore, he more than likes her. They've taken a step forward, and yet. "Kate, I still haven't taken you on our first date."

Her eyes close at that. "You don't have to."

He stands. "I'll go and let you get ready, and then come back to pick you up, like a real date. Afterwards, I'll walk you back home, and if it went well, maybe I'll get a goodnight kiss at the door."

She opens her eyes and they dance for a moment, the way they do when she can't believe that she's letting him win her over and follow some crazy lead based on his theory alone. It's the only answer he needs. She's not back to herself yet, but she'll get there.

"I'll be back in 20," he promises. "Unless that's not enough time for you to get ready for your big date?"

"I can be ready."

"And I'll be on my best behavior and everything."

"There is such a thing?"

"Oh, funny." He smiles at her.

She gets up from the stool and leans in to him. As her lips meet his, her hands ghost over his biceps, like she's not sure where to put them. Her kiss is gentle and promising but not full of the kind of passion she's shown him these last couple of days and nights.

He pulls back after a second, "You're supposed to do that afterwards."

"We'll see."

Teasing Kate is a good thing, he decides, and it's on that note he decides to leave her. Just for a little while.

TBC (Five parts in total, all to be posted very soon as I find time for final editing)