A/N - This story is all a silent conversation with Castle that takes place inside Kate's head. Things she wishes she could say, but it's not the time and definitely not the place...

This is something that has been rattling around in my head and on my computer for a while. I used to love writing but work and life took the time away, and I'm very rusty at writing. See my profile for more detail. The short of it is that I have a lot of half-finished Castle fan fics that were started around the time I watched certain episodes that inspired me, and I hope to finish them. This one was a challenge to myself to write from a different perspective than I was initially viewing things from, and writing first person in this way is also very different for me.

This is set as sort of a missing scene in the very end of Linchpin (4.16) and has spoilers for that episode.

Aftermath

I can't believe you're still alive and sitting next to me.

I don't think you even felt me put my hand over yours where it rested on your knee when we were ushered so quickly into this car. You're still in shock, and I wanted to offer comfort, but I also need to feel the warmth and firmness of your hand to reassure myself that you're here and she really didn't kill you.

I thought I'd lost you this time.

And you'd never have known how I feel about you.

I can still hear the echo of my own scream and Sophia's gunshot in my head – No, what I though was Sophia's gun shot. But it wasn't. Somehow, out of nowhere, Agent Danberg's bullet found its mark in Sophia in that split instant while she was pulling the trigger with the muzzle of her gun against your head.

In that space of an instant, I went from feeling my heart being torn in two to having what may have been the weight of the future of our entire country on my shoulders. I saw the aftermath of that shot written in your face, yet I had no choice but to just run away and leave you there in shock so that I could help Danberg stop Sophia's plan to kill a little girl and start World War III.

It hasn't even been 15 minutes since that shot, but it feels like 15 hours.

Everything since we knew the girl was safe has been a blur, and it took every bit of strength I had just to stay on my feet till now. The other CIA agents and the FBI swooped in and took over with Corrigan after Danberg and I tackled him, dragged him outside, and cuffed him. Someone rushed us back inside down to the room where you still sat on your heels next to Sophia's body just where I'd left you, with the same glazed look of shock.

It just doesn't seem real to be riding next to you so soon afterward with a CIA agent driving us to the precinct for debriefing. I don't want you to know that Danberg told me they were going to take us back to CIA headquarters for this. I saw how shaken up you were and I told him point blank that there was no way either of us could possibly go anywhere wearing that damn black hood right now, especially not you. Not after this. I don't know if it was my words or the look in my eyes that convinced him, but he agreed without protest.

After what happened just now, neither of us would have trusted that we were safe or where they were taking us. And in the dark and isolation of that hood, you'd have been reliving those moments of Sophia's betrayal of you, the feel of her gun and the sound of the shot. I know you're doing that now, but it's different in the light of day than alone in the dark. I know that all too well this year.

I couldn't let them rush you into that hood just minutes after it happened. As hard as it might have been for you, you would have borne it. Because you're strong, and as much as you're hurting, you would have done what you had to. But I could at least spare you that much. I can't imagine how betrayed you must feel and what knowing that you almost left Alexis without you must be like.

The adrenaline I've been running on is wearing off and make me feel shaky. I'm just now realizing that if I'm honest, I think I'm actually more angry with Sophia for the way she treated you than for planning on killing me, too. I saw the look in your eyes the first time you saw her again. And I saw the way she flirted with you.

Were you actually in love with her back then? Did working with her now bring back old feelings?

Or was it just awe at getting to work with the CIA? And getting to work with your role model for Clara Stryker rather than just follow her around? I want to believe that. But how could I blame you if you found yourself wanting to be with her instead of waiting for me to stop holding you away?

Whatever the feelings were now or used to be, it wasn't until those last moments with her that I realized what head games she'd been playing with you. And now I realize she probably lied to me to try to hurt you, too. I don't think she planned to kill us from the start, but either way, I hate the pain and confusion she left in your eyes and the scars this is going to leave you.

I just keep hearing her gun cock followed by that shot. And I keep thinking what if Danberg had been a fraction of a second later and been too late to save you, but I had still lived?

I can't even wrap my mind around that thought.

I couldn't live with knowing what I'd kept from you. I couldn't live without you.

And yet, I still can't tell you how I feel. I've been working so hard in counseling and in my heart to heal my scars and to be able to trust myself to allow others in to my life. I'm slowly getting better, but I still can't get past the walls I've put up. And sometimes I'm still so scared.

Scared of your feelings for me.

Scared of the way I feel about you.

I can't imagine a life without you in it anymore. But once I admit my feelings for you there will be no going back if things don't work out between us. And there have been so many women in your life – what if I don't measure up? What if you get bored with me and want to move on?

Then I'll not only lose someone I love, but I'll lose my best friend, too. Like I thought I did today…

Even now, as dazed as you are today, you're unconsciously picking up on my feelings. You move your hand from underneath mine to the top and curl your fingers under my palm, and turn to look at me with a silent question of concern in your eyes. It's things like this that make me know that you really do love me like you told me that day in the cemetery. And I hope it is a sign that you really haven't given up on me.

I nod wordlessly and it seems to reassure you, and you return to staring at the back of the seat in front of you still lost in your thoughts. And I turn away to look out the window because I can feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes, and I can't do that. Not now. Not here. I have to get my emotions under control before we reach the precinct.

I have to be strong and in control when the CIA debriefs us and when the others at the precinct see us. I can't show my weakness and vulnerability to everyone I've been hiding it from. I have to be Detective Beckett when we get there. She's strong, and in control and respected. She's the façade that protects me and gives me courage when I'm falling apart on the inside. She's the one everyone depends on, and I can't let them down.

But, I've learned something today. Not only have I been keeping secrets from you, I've been keeping them from myself. After I got shot, I told you that I'd put up walls in my heart when my mother was killed to protect myself from the pain of getting close to someone. Today, I understood the truth. You're already in my heart and the walls are only keeping me from reaching out to you. Losing you today would have devastated me, and I would have had to live every day with the regret that I didn't give "us" a chance.

I know it's time and I have to find a way to let you in to my life. And let you know how I feel.

Please wait for me.

I love you, too.

Please review. I'd appreciate your feedback and suggestions! Thank you!