"What were you dreaming last night?" It was her turn to wake up to his voice, hushed against the dawning morning.

"I don't really know." It's not a lie. At least, not a full lie. A gunshot. Blood seeping down her temple. The cold of concrete as she lay on the ground. "I think it's of when I got shot. I'm in my apartment. A glass of wine on the table. Then, a loud sound and blood seeping through my shirt. It's blue and the blood turns it to a sickly brown. I hit the wine glass as I fall and the wine is almost discernible from my blood."

His heart almost stops in his chest. He's told her next to nothing of that day. Has the shirt she wore hidden away. Blue, like his eyes. The splotch of red turning it to mud brown. He doesn't know why we kept it. Maybe as a reminder. At the time, he'd been afraid it would be the last thing to ever smell like her.

The darkest moments and memories seemed to come to her first. Montgomery's funeral. The bullet that had almost claimed her the first time. Cases where they had fought. The second bullet that had taken her memory. He sometimes wondered if the balance of their relationship leaned more towards the worse times. Fights and hospital visits. Nights spent apart and secrets kept from each other.

"Is that how it happened? Was I alone in my apartment?" He nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. She sensed the turmoil in him and rubbed slow circles on his chest. Kate of before coming out once again. She knew how to calm him, understood the importance of reminding him that she was here. Living and breathing in his arms.

"It was during the last summer heat wave," he said, finally finding the strength to talk, "I had left early to meet with Gina at Black Pawn before heading home to cook dinner. You had requested lasagna. I wasn't there, but when I got the call…you were in your apartment The shirt you wore is in my closet. Still bagged from the hospital. It was blue…one my of favorite colors on you."

The ballistics report showed it had been a close range shot. But the report couldn't tell him if she'd stood there with the gun to her head. Or if she'd been caught by surprise. The bullet coming from nowhere. He'd had nightmares of that moment for weeks. His imagination filling in all of the blanks he would never be able to really fill. What had drawn her home instead of the loft. If she'd been scared. If she had known that night that their lives would be irrevocably changed.

He saw the questions in her eyes and gave a sad smile. She returned it with one of her own, laying her head on his chest. She wished he knew. Could remember for the both of them. Wanted him to help fill in the blanks that seemed to fill almost every corner of her mind.

Kate knew she was different. She didn't know how, but she felt it all the same. Javi, Lanie, Ryan…everyone avoided talk of her past, but sometimes things would slip out. She liked red wine over white. Her favorite color is purple. Rain storms were her favorite thing in the world. She liked sushi, hated brussel sprouts. Sometimes, when she did something new or would voice her opinion on something, she would catch a fleeting look on Castle's face. A look of surprise and sometimes a look of knowing.

"Castle," she whispered soft. She felt the tip of his head and the soft brush of his lips to her temple in response. "Take me to see my mother."