Two shot based on sheer speculation and personal headcanons, contins spoilers for XY and XX, inspired by my evil iPod that reminded me of a song that gives me a lot of feels, written because of reasons. Thanks to Alex, awesome betareader and supporter when I feel I'm writing rubbish like right now.


Three weeks.

Twenty two nights. Alone. In what for the past two years has become their bed, and now was only his, again.

He still saw her every day but it was not the same. It wasn't the same, even if he knew it's not a definitive solution. He was sure of it, he could read it in her eyes every time she looked up at him; that glint in her eye, the smile about to break on her face and light her up like the fireworks on the Fourth of July, when she spotted him in the bullpen. Nothing had changed, she just… left.

He understood though, Kate wasn't the kind of person to act like that without a reason. It hurt, yes but… he understood why. He might have not in the beginning, blinded by the anger and the hurt, but now, he did.

Hunt called a couple of days after the… incident and explained some things. In an uncharacteristic moment of honesty, he also admitted he had been watching over them and had sent his wife… - yes, his wife he hadn't seen in nine months because of various reasons he didn't disclose - to save his daughter in law.

Beckett had messed up, big time. She was scared someone might retaliate against her and hurt him, or his mother and daughter.

In a convoluted way, it made sense, even to him.

Sighing, he slapped his laptop closed and dragged himself to his… their bed. He set himself down; trying to get comfortable on a mattress that for the past weeks felt strange to him then set his phone on the nightstand. As usual, he picked up the book he was reading and opened it where he had left it the night before.

About then minutes later, right on time, his phone buzzed.

He picked the call up without looking at the screen for the caller ID. He knew who was calling.

"Hey…"

"Hey…" came the twin reply, her voice soft and quiet. "You didn't come to the precinct today."

She sounded sad, almost resigned. And… tired maybe? "Had a case. Woman thought husband cheated. Turned out he was a gambler. Open and closed by early afternoon," he quickly explained. "Anything nice?"

He heard a sigh. "Dull day. Paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork. Missed you."

For the first time that day, Castle smiled. "Missed you too… Sorry you had a bad day."

"It wasn't bad, just… boring. What have you done after you closed the case?"

He scratched his head as he retraced his steps for the last afternoon. "I came home, ate something… wrote half a chapter, played a bit with the XBox and the wrote again. I was reading when you called."

"What did you play?"

He so wished that small talk would turn into something more serious, something about them and not their days, but it was something. It was a way to be close even if they weren't.

"Metal Gear…" he grumbled.

"Oh come on I thought we were going to play that together!"

"We would, if you came home." Trying to force the conversation to something useful couldn't hurt more than it already did, after all.

"Castle… I…" She fell silent, her unspoken words hanging between them like the proverbial elephant in the room and she sighed. "Give me time."

He could give her all the time in the world, but no way in hell or heaven he'll let her go like that. She had asked for forgiveness, tears streaming down her cheeks as she still winced from the gash on her side, and he was ready to give it to her, but only if she came home. Together they could face everything, they had faced so much in the past, they could face even more.

They could face this.

"I know, Kate, it's just… come home, please! The loft is empty without you!"

Silence, again. Sighing, Castle let his head fall on the pillow and his free hand clenched in a fist. Then he heard a subdued sniffle, a noise she was desperately trying to stop crying.

Just like every night. He hated to see, or hear, her crying. He didn't want that, not again. Not tonight. One day he'll call her out for all the shit she was putting up, but she was still too fragile, too scared to handle it.

Man, he wasn't sure he was going to handle it at that moment. It's still too raw, no scar to cover their freshly scraped, too vulnerable hearts.

"Kate… I'm sorry. I'm being an ass and… It's just that I miss you. I just want you back, where you should be."

"Too dangerous. I don't want any of you to get hurt, or worse, because I fucked up. Too many people already died, I'm radioactive."

She sounded so stern and resolute… he could picture her, back in her old apartment, sharing the space with her cousin Sofia. She had told him she was camped in the guest room, the one that used to be her study, and that Sophie had furnished it in such bright colors that it almost gave her headaches. In his mind's eye, he saw her curled up on her side, phone beside the pillow on speakerphone - he could hear the shower running in the background, and a tune he couldn't decipher, probably Sofia taking a shower before bed - trying to avoid looking at the flurry of colors around her. He knew she preferred lighter shades in the bedroom; she wasn't one for bright red duvets and neon yellow curtains. And from how she had described it, the bedroom was just like that.

It warmed his heart, the mental image of his wife in such a different ambient than her natural habitat, trying to maintain control over something that was threatening to drag her down a bottomless rabbit hole.

Now that was a familiar ambience for her, though he knew she didn't want to slip again into that dark place.

But that dark was apparently more welcoming and comfortable than the loft. Her home. Their home. A place where they were planning to raise a family together.

Fuck…

"You're not radioactive Kate… just…" he heaved a deep breath, trying to suppress the sudden need to cry and sob, beg her to come home because he can't spend another night without her. He can't stand the cold of her side of the bed, the empty nightstand, without her charger and the book she was reading. He could hardly take a shower without feeling his heart breaking in a million pieces each time he saw her body wash, shampoo and conditioner. "Will you come home?" he asked, trying not to break down, just like he asked every night since she had left, be it on the phone or via text.

He heard a sob on the line, then another. Damn, he had made her cry, again.

"Just let me think this through."

Castle drew a deep breath. "Goodnight Kate. Sleep well."

"Goodnight Rick… I love you."

He closed the call and set the phone on the nightstand, then wiped the tears from his face. He took a long moment to compose himself, find enough balance to feel tired enough to fall asleep.

No such luck.

Grunting in frustration and barely contained anger, he grabbed the phone and quickly typed a text.

When you're through thinking, say yes.