Well, without being TOO spoilery or cocky, I have to say that with the previous chapters, it appears that I've pegged the 'real' Castle's reaction to the revelation pretty well. Based on the promo that came out, he used the word 'fool' to describe himself. And in the last chapter, I had him describe himself as an idiot. Not too far off! But really, it wasn't much of a stretch...who WOULDN'T feel that way after being lied to/misled for that long?

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. With the site having problems, I was wondering if a lot of the subscribers/readers would even know there was a new chapter. I know several people found it via my twitter account, so once again, it's xxGoogiexx, if you want to follow me.

It's funny that this is really coming into play now; I started this story not even thinking about when the secrets would actually come out in the show.

Disclaimer: Although I'd love to claim otherwise, I'm nothing but a fan.

Previously: And finally, the door was opened by a disheveled-looking Richard Castle, running a hand through his hair.

Right at first, he looked as though he was surprised to see her standing there. But then, unmistakably, his eyes hardened when he registered that she was standing there in front of him.

And she was struck by the difference is reactions between this time that she was at his door and the last time she was there, before they went for their walk two nights ago. Then, he was surprised, but obviously happy to see her.

And this time he wasn't happy to see her. That, too, was obvious.

"Castle, we need to talk," she told him, feeling like she should say something. She wasn't really mentally prepared for the look on his face, and that lame statement was all that she could muster. Then she just stood there, waiting for his reply, hoping, after seeing the look on his face, that he wouldn't slam the door in her face.

He stared at her after she made her proclamation about them needing to talk. Finally, he said, "Really, Kate?" He shook his head and looked away quickly before piercing her with his eyes again. "Now you decide that we need to talk? Not ten months ago? Not any time during the four months that you were gone, and I was worrying myself sick wondering how you were doing?" Some part of him registered her wince when he said that, but it wasn't big enough to make him stop, not when he appeared to be on a roll like he was now. "Not in any of the six months after that when we've been working together, getting shot at, or almost eaten by a tiger, or almost drowned in your car? You decide now is a good time to talk?" He stepped aside and gave a grand gesture with his left arm toward his apartment. "Well, Detective, then by all means, come on in and let's talk."

She gave him a tense look before she stepped through the door slowly. As he shut the door behind her, he said, "Well, now that we know that you're not suffering from any memory loss, I have to wonder if I might be. Because you see, I just don't remember calling you. I mean, I said I needed to think and that I'd call you, but here you are, and I don't have any memory of actually calling you."

'Oh, he was in fine form tonight, wasn't he?' Kate thought. She didn't know if she'd ever heard so much sarcasm come spewing from him in such a short span of time as what she'd just heard. "No, Castle," she tried, "You didn't call me, and you're well aware of that. Look...I made a lot of mistakes, okay? And one of them was not calling you for four months. But I don't want us to repeat the same mistake again, so here I am." Then, on impulse, she added, "So deal with it." If he could be sarcastic, then dammit, she could be a little cocky. And she didn't care, as long as it got them to talk and blew apart this stalemate of silence between them.

"Deal with it?" he asked her incredulously. "Seriously, Beckett? You think I haven't been 'dealing with it'? Right." He huffed out a breath. "I've been dealing with so much for the last ten months that after this, I think I'm just ready to be fully dealt out. I fold."

And literally, he did. As he said that, he slumped onto the couch and leaned his head back, scrubbing his hands over his face in a tired gesture that was a testimonial to just how much her lie had affected him. She wanted to go comfort him, somehow, but she knew she couldn't. Not at least physically. All she had left were words, but Lord knew that she was certainly no expert in that department unless it was in an interrogation room.

She sat down on the other end of the couch. "I'm sorry, Rick," she told him softly. "I can't tell you how much I regret what I did. The words don't seem adequate, but they're all I have right now. I'm so sorry."

He opened his eyes and stared at her pointedly. "Then why did you do it? And even more importantly, why did you perpetuate it?"

She looked down at her hands, trying to find the words to explain away her choices for those ten months, but even as she thought of them now, they sounded silly and thin. She knew she had to say something, so she made her eyes look back up at him. "You know some of it...I told you some of it two nights ago."

"Yeah, you were messed up. Well, welcome to the club, Beckett. We're all messed up in our own ways."

"I was selfish," she blurted out.

"You won't get any argument from me there." His tone was bold, but at the same time very matter-of-fact. And it was obvious he wasn't going to cut her any slack. He wasn't going to go easy on her. She hurt him, and his kid gloves were off now.

"In the hospital, like I told you, what you said...it was the first thing I thought of when woke up. But I was hurting, and also like I told you, there was just so much going around in my mind."

"Yeah." He started holding up fingers as he recited the different topics. "Montgomery, your mom's case, you being shot, prospects of a long recovery...oh, and let's not forget, there's that fool of a guy that's been following you around who all of a sudden copped to some pretty deep feelings for you. While you're involved with someone else. And you were shot, so you know, you couldn't tell him to just get lost. So you did the next best thing and pretended it never happened in the first place."

"Castle, it wasn't like that!" she told him, losing a bit of her temper because he was rewriting her story and her motivation to put himself in the worst possible light.

"Well, I wouldn't really know what it was like, now would I? I only know what I saw, and what I was told."

She took a deep breath. They were going around in circles, once again, and they weren't getting anywhere. "Rick, I need you to just be quiet and listen to me. Okay?"

"You need? Yes, I'm sure you need it. It's always about your needs, isn't it?"

She took another deep breath. If it kept up this way, pretty soon she was going to hyperventilate just from taking deep breaths to try to calm herself down. "Well, right now, I think we both need this. I need to tell it, and you need to hear it."

"I would have loved to have heard it ten months ago. Or even six months ago. Hell, even two months ago would have been better."

She ignored his jabs and forged on with her story, not really waiting for a response from him because she knew in his state of mind, she'd just get more sarcasm and hurt pouring out of him. "I woke up and the doctors started telling me what had happened. And as I came to more, I remembered getting shot, and...afterward. It was like a continuous movie loop running through my mind, and you were part of that. And right at first, it was something to hold onto, something...good to think about... But then I was drifting in and out, and I remembered our argument, when I told you to get out of my apartment. I asked you point blank how you felt then, and you just said you were my friend and partner, with no inkling toward what you told me in the cemetery. And I just kept thinking about those two things, and how different they were, how inconsistent."

She let her words trail off and she was silent as she let the implication sink in. When he heard that, he tilted his head just a bit and pursed his lips. "What...you thought I wasn't serious?" he asked finally.

"I didn't know what to think. For a while, I could only focus on things for a few seconds at a time, because of the shock and the pain and the drugs, so I just kept thinking about those two things...the argument and after I was shot. Little snippets. But I didn't know...I didn't know what to think...about the two of them. And as I got more lucid, I got...I got scared." She seemed ashamed to admit the word in relation to describing herself with it.

"Scared of what?"

"Of...me. Of what was going on with...being shot." She swallowed and her voice got lower than it already was. "Of...your words, and..." She trailed off, but she made no move to go on.

"And what?" he prompted finally.

On another deep sigh, she eventually admitted, "The cemetery...I'd just been shot. You thought I was going to die. You said that much. So I had to..." She stopped briefly again. But then she made herself voice the thought, even though it was still sort of a veiled comment, like a lot of their conversation seemed to be. "It made me wonder which of the two was the true statement...the argument or the cemetery."

But veiled or not, the implication was clear: she worried that he'd said what he'd said only because she'd just been shot and was bleeding out all over the beautiful spring grass. That he hadn't really meant those words that he'd spoken so long ago. He looked like he was about to say something, so she jumped up and forged on ahead, starting to pace in front of him, having more of her story to tell and not wanting to listen to him until she'd gotten it all out. "And then with everything else-the shooting and the recovery and all of that-I just didn't know how to navigate all of that. And somewhere in there, I thought that if you didn't...if what you said in my apartment was more...true, then it would probably be more comfortable for everyone if I just pretended for a little while that I couldn't remember the other...stuff."

Inside, he was affected by her words, but he was still hurting too much by her actions to let that show. She was worried that he didn't mean it? Well, then did that mean that it mattered to her if he meant it...that she wanted him to mean it? But he couldn't think about that now, so he squashed it down and brought up the crux of the whole issue, what had gotten them to this point in the first place: her lie. "So you consciously made a decision to lie to me?"

"Yes, dammit! But I was scared! I know that's no excuse, but I thought if you really did feel...like you said, then you'd say it again sometime, and I wouldn't have to wonder." Or worry that it wasn't true, she added to herself silently.

"But how could I say it again when you didn't give me the chance? I had approximately two minutes with you before you told me to get out of your room, and to not call you. And then you dropped off the face of the earth for four months. So how was I supposed to say it again when you asked me to stay away?"

"It was never supposed to be that long."

"Well then how long was it supposed to be? How long did you intend to lie to me?" Once again, she almost flinched at his words, but they were true. She did lie to him, and it wasn't just an off-the-cuff, spontaneous, little white lie. It was bigger, and-she hated to admit it-calculated. Premeditated. And despite her apologies, despite the fact that she was coming clean with him, thinking of it like that made her feel just that much worse about what she'd done.

But she still needed to answer his question. Truthfully, she told him, "I don't know...until I got out of the hospital? I don't know. I just knew that when I was worried that you only said what you said because of the shock of seeing me shot and bleeding, then I couldn't have you hanging around the hospital with me while I was so...weak. I'm nobody's pity case. And I know you would have been there."

"Damn straight I would have been there," he said quickly, resolutely, affirming his devotion to her before he could even think about the words that escaped his mouth. Her eyes displayed her shock at his quick, unconscious show of support for her even when he seemed so outraged with her, and he clamped his lips together and looked away, as if embarrassed to have said it at all.

The words hung in the air for a bit, and she closed her eyes. Unbidden, the images popped into her mind, images of him sitting by her bedside, day after day, helping her to get better. She knew he would have been there, and he'd just confirmed it. Now, those images were comforting, but they were bittersweet because she'd given that opportunity away. But then, the mere possibility of him being there, after what she heard, frightened her. She knew, even then, even through her haze of pain medication and endless monitoring, that having him there through that, in the hospital with her wouldn't be a good thing, long-term. She wasn't in a place where she could handle it, and she knew she would have screwed something up. And of course-

"But I suppose that would have been uncomfortable, what with your boyfriend and everything," he said, his sarcasm from earlier resurrecting itself again, as he basically read her mind, knowing that she was thinking about the same thing...how difficult it would have been if he had been hanging around so much when she also had Josh.

"Josh had very little to do with it," she spat back right away.

"But you didn't have a problem with him being there."

"God, Castle, he was my boyfriend! What was I supposed to do?" And then, although it wasn't voiced, they both heard what her next words would have been: 'Kick him out?'

Like she did to Castle.

Castle, her partner, her friend, her champion...the man who'd just, before that, confessed his love for her.

And she'd kicked him out, out of her life for four months.

She walked back over to the couch and slumped down, leaning over, elbows on her knees, head in her hand. "I'm sorry, Castle," she said again, into her hands. But then she raised her head up and turned to look at him. "I was just trying not to screw things up, and I ended up doing it anyway. I'm sorry."

He could see she was sincere. He could see she was torn up about it. It didn't really take away his hurt or make him feel any better, but in some part of him he really couldn't define, it did help a marginal amount to see that she was affected by the hurt that she had caused him with her silence.

But despite that, he really didn't know a whole lot more than he did before she knocked on his door. Sure, he knew a bit more about her motivations, and what she was thinking in the immediate aftermath of her shooting, but he didn't really know how she felt, then or now. He had to know; he figured that after all of this, she owed him that. And he figured it was time to find out.

"Why are you here, Kate?" he asked bluntly.

She looked at him, confusion evident on her face. "What do you mean? I...did something awful to you, and I'm trying to apologize."

"You did that two nights ago, when you came clean with me. And you did it just now, several times. So I guess you're absolved of your guilt." He paused, his eyes boring holes in her. "So that should be it, right?"

'It?' What did he mean by that? She was trying to make sense of what he said, when it hit her. He was saying...goodbye? No, that couldn't be it. But then as she saw him pull himself up off the couch and stand there, obviously waiting for her to stand up too, she knew she was right. He was expecting her to leave.

He was preparing to say goodbye. She could see it in his eyes.

She started shaking her head at him, her mouth forming a single word. "No." And she stayed where she was on the couch, unable to move, unable to get up. Because standing up was one step closer to her leaving, and she didn't want to do that. She really didn't want to do that.

"No?" he asked, staring down at her. "You've apologized. I can't accept it yet, but I'm sure in time, I'll come to terms with it. But you've done your duty; you've told me the truth and apologized for lying to me. So you can go home and sleep easy tonight."

But she still didn't get up. "I'm not going home, not right now anyway. Come on, Castle," she implored, as if she was wanting him to understand. But he didn't understand her anymore.

He shook his head. "No, Kate. You came here even though I told you I needed time, even though I said I would call you when I was ready to talk. You said you came here to apologize. You've apologized. What more is there to say?" And then, deliberately slowly, he repeated the original question, the loaded one, the one that he'd already asked. The one that he wanted-needed-a heartfelt answer to this time, not just some lame bunk about giving him an apology.

"Why did you come here, Kate?"

Push, push. That's what she needs, right?

Now that you've read it, you should know that how this came out is not how I intended. I just tried to imagine 'my' versions of these characters sitting in a room, and I tried to envision what they would talk about. Some of it didn't even happen until I started typing. As people like to say, I tried to make it seem organic in the way the whole conversation came about.

But all in all, I'm pretty happy with the way this turned out. (And then whenever I say that, I always worry that other people will think it's about as good as day-old roadkill.) I never intended to make Beckett somewhat (even just a tad) sympathetic, but once I started typing it, that's how she came across to me. And if you think about it, there were two very contrasting themes of feelings, or vibes, coming from him in that finale: the argument where he couldn't say how much she meant to him and it cost him by getting him kicked out, and then the cemetery, where he did finally confess his feelings. But because of the first situation, (in my premise) she couldn't trust the second, especially in that situation. Yes, she definitely was selfish and made mistakes, but right at first, she was very vulnerable and didn't know which was up with Castle. Or even moreso, she didn't have the strength then to face either possibility (that he meant it, or that he didn't).

I know I danced around the ILY words a lot with 'what you said' and 'your words' and stuff like that, but in my mind, he CAN'T let himself say them again yet. He's hurt and he feels like a fool. And he doesn't know how she feels yet. On her side, I know she hasn't told him what I think all of you want her to tell him, but I think admitting it, out loud, for her is major. First she has to get through the lying thing and regain his trust, and I don't know that he'd believe her if she said it right away to him anyway after keeping him in the dark for so long about her memories. So, basically, they're both still hiding, because they're both still afraid. These people have danced around each other for four seasons, not saying what they really feel, so I (personally) think that when everything comes out, it's going to be a slow progression of coming clean with little things that eventually regain each other's trust. That will, in turn, lead them to be more blatantly open about their true feelings.

So since today is my birthday, nice reviews would make really nice birthday presents. ;-) I already saw the sneak peeks for Monday's episode that I'm sure they released just for me ;) , but still, comments would be much appreciated.