A/N: Sequel to Jigsaw but can stand alone as an Episode AU for 8x05 with no spoilers.
Thank you, Amy :) You are my rock. Without you I probably wouldn't be writing. You are the best.
"There's a hole in my heart and its begging please
Maybe now
Everything will be so clear
'Cause your all I'll ever need."
Long after the sound of her voice has faded away and the phantom ghost of her body next to his dissipates into the nothingness, Castle finds himself still lying across the bottom of their bed. Both his feet are planted firmly on the ground with his hands spread wide across the sheets.
Castle stares at the ceiling, not looking, not seeing, unmoving. He's lost inside his mind, in his heart, trying to replay the last few weeks to find where it all went wrong. Where everything went downhill.
But he can't think of when. No more secrets. She'd said. Does this not break that promise?
Closing his eyes, Castle sighs, shakes his head at the way his thoughts are formulating.
Kate is as miserable as he is.
She knows what this is doing to him. It's eating away at her too.
So it's not as if she's doing this to hurt him.
But Castle knows who he married. Once Kate Beckett puts her mind to something, there's no veering off course. Working her mother's case, he's had to fight every time to get her to back down when she got too close to the ledge.
So whatever it is that she's doing now maybe she just needs that push again. If she needs space to do whatever it is that's got her tumbling into this rabbit hole, he's going to do whatever he can to help her avoid the fall down.
But if she would just tell him what made her leave, it would be easier to get her through it, to get her back.
Think, Rick.
If he believes her when she says that there's no need for him to win her back because he hasn't lost her, then it's something else. What isn't she saying?
Words. He's always been good with words.
That's not it. Not this time.
Rick, do you trust me?
When it's done…I hope you'll have room in your heart to take me back.
I love you...I always will. Forgive me.
It's complicated.
It's not about you…I love you I always will.
Kate wouldn't have left without leaving bread crumbs. That's what her words are. A puzzle for him to complete, to string together to find the hidden meaning.
I've seen this before.
But he can't have. Her motives for leaving him for three months is completely different for why she's leaving now. Does that mean it's not something mental then? She's literally doing something. Like a case? Some secret mission that she can't involve him in? Is she still working for the AG's office? Is she some sort of double spy?
He knows, he knows he sounds ridiculous and he does trust his wife, but what else is he to do besides play the guessing game? She won't tell him anything. Beckett's reassurances of love do nothing to ease his worried mind. He knows she loves him, that's goes without saying.
But damn it. Why is it that whenever something is wrong, whenever she needs to work on something, she pushes him away? Has she not learned by now that they're better together than apart?
God.
He wants to punch something.
It would be different if they weren't married yet, but he swore a vow to her, and to have her run away every time something seems wrong instead of talking to him about it makes him feel like he's in this alone. Like he's always been in this alone.
Castle stands up from the bed and begins shuffling around on the carpet. It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense. And maybe if she would just be honest with him about why she left, maybe he could have some peace of mind. He'd trust her to do what she has to do and to come home to him.
But instead she's choosing to keep secrets, to keep him in the dark about what she's doing. All he knows is that whatever she's doing or going through can't be good. Otherwise she wouldn't look so sick, malnourished. Otherwise, she would be sleeping better. Otherwise, she'd be home.
Being in the loft doesn't help either. Even though she's gone, she's still here. Her side of the bed prominently empty, her clothes pulled in the closet, some toiletries in the bathroom. And there, when he listens long enough, when he listens hard enough, he can hear the echo of her heels clicking along the hardwood floors.
The longer he allows himself to indulge in this hallucination the louder the sound gets and it sets his heart a beating. Thumping and thumping against his chest, nervous with anticipation as if she's actually about to walk through the door.
And then she does.
And it takes his breath away.
"Kate?" He just seen her a bit over an hour ago and yet the sight of her here, home, has his mind exploding, neurons firing at rapid succession, directing his body to do so many things at once. To scream, to dance, to run, to stand his ground, to go to her, to question, to cry, to love, to love, to love.
The loving side of his brain dominates and he surges forward to wrap his wife securely in his arms. Never to let her go again.
"Castle?" He feels her swallow against his chest, but her grip on his back reassures him that she does want this, that his touch a still does it for her. "What are you doing he-"
"I'm so happy you're home," he breathes, kissing the crown of her head.
"Castle, I'm not-"
"I don't know what made you come home, but God, I don't care as long as you never leave aga-"
"Castle!" Kate rips herself from his embrace, takes a step back. "I'm not coming home."
His entire body deflates, knees so weak it's like she took a Jackhammer to them, but he tries with his whole self to stay upright. He's devastated and this must be evident on his face because she adds "yet."
"Yet?" He bites.
"I'm not coming home, yet. Not, not ever."
"Sure feels that way."
His wife sighs, drops her duffle bag. "I came back to get some things. I didn't know you'd be here."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Kate flashes him a knowing look, brow raised and hands stuffed into her pockets.
"Was it Alexis or my mother?"
"Does it matter? Castle, you shouldn't be sleeping on a couch."
"Neither should you."
Kate shakes her head and bites her lip before walking over to their closet to start grabbing more work clothes.
"When I disappeared last year, is this where you slept? Because this bed," he explains, gesturing to their vancant bed with his finger. "Reeks of emptiness."
This silences her and Kate looks away to run her fingers through her hair. Takes another step away from him.
It's not fair. It's not fair and he knows it. But what about this entire situation is fair?
"Kate."
"You know I didn't sleep here." Her voice cracks on here and she brings her hand up to swipe under her eye. She puts her back to him and he wants nothing more than to take her pain away. Making her cry was never his intention, but she has to see how this is tearing them up.
"And why is that, Kate?" Taking a tentative step closer, he reaches his hand out to her, a quiet plea for her to come closer. She doesn't.
"Because," she tries to speak, but the tears flow too fast from her eyes, her throat too clogged with grief to formulate anything comprehensible. Instead she tries not to weep as she pushes her hair back from her face, closes her eyes against the realization of just how stupid this separation is. She looks him right in the eye as she continues, "you know I couldn't sleep there without you." Her voice is horse, reminds him of the way she broke down the day she left him.
"So why would you think it's any different for me?"
When his wife glances away, starts fiddling with her clothes in the closet, he takes this as his opportunity to go to her. In no more than two large steps he's across the room and at her back, determined to make her stay.
"Kate," he whispers, runs his finger down the length of her side. "Come home."
"Castle," she moans, tries to shrug his hand off her body, but there's no power behind it. He can feel her giving in.
"Just for tonight," he begs. "Just put whatever you're working on aside for tonight." Kate doesn't respond but she doesn't face him either. "And choose me. Choose me. Just for tonight," he cries as his hand closes around the cold metal attached to her hip.
Castle feels the moment she realizes what he's doing, when the cold of the cuffs slip from her waistband.
"Castle, what the hell are you doing?"
"Do I need to handcuff you here?" he jokes, dangling the silver cuffs in front of her face.
Beckett just stares him in the eye, one hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. In her eyes he sees the same longing reflected back at him, the pain he feels piled high in his chest is the same pain in hers. And yet, she still-
She's laughing. At first it's a giggle, a light thing as if she thought it was cute that he did it. But now she's full on laughing, face red, and shoulders shaking. It's such a relief to see happiness, to feel it radiating off her other than pity and heartbreak that Castle finds himself laughing along with her. Glad to revel in the joy he's brought her...even if it's for a moment. Even if it's just for this beautiful moment.
A part of him wants to live in this blissful bubble for all eternity, to make this moment infinite, but his wife's laughter soon turn to sobs, heart-wrenching hiccups emanating from her throat and of course all he ever wants to do is take her pain away. It doesn't have to be this way, they don't have to live like this. And if he could just convince her of that then she'll see that whatever's wrong it's best if they handle it together.
Haven't they wasted enough time already?
There's no obstacle they can't overcome together.
Kate buries her face in his neck, her free hand tangled tight in his shirt, gripping him for life, as if she's trying to hold on to the small parts of him, of them.
"Stay with me," he pleads, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, the crinkle of her eyes. "Please."
"Castle, I can't. You know that."
"Just for tonight. What's the harm? Stay tonight. Just a night."
You owe me this.
Kate tries to step out of his embrace, but he grips her tighter, wraps one arm completely around her waist while their joined wrists brush against each other.
"Please, Kate. I miss y- I need you. I-I can't even- I'm just a me-" he sighs, unable to articulate his thought process correctly, his emotions too close to the surface.
When she bites her lip, he knows he's got her. Oh finally. Thank God, finally.
"Only for a night," she agrees, but they both know, this is it, this is the end right here. When he wakes up in the morning she'll be gone.
Contre-Coeur: French; a saying for doing something against the wishes of the heart.