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Chapter Four

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He can't help the gasp that escapes him when he opens the door. A dozen cheesy lines about how she's never looked more beautiful cross his mind, but he doesn't vocalise them, instead opting for a safe greeting of, "Hey."

She smiles in relief, obviously not sure whether she is welcome or not, "Hey."

They do an awkward dance at the door before she squeezes past him, the smell of Thai wafting in with her, "You brought lunch?" And suddenly his mother's cleaning makes sense. They must have organised this somehow. He wonders how the women in his life seem to always be one step ahead of him.

She sets the take out containers down on the table, "Hope that's okay?"

"Of course," he answers, finding his legs again and making his way to the kitchen to help her get some plates, "Is it okay that you're not at work?"

She pauses, hand held above a pile of cutlery, "I've, uh, racked up a lot of hours. Gates practically begged me to take the afternoon off."

He smiles, "A lot of tough cases, huh?"

She sighs, putting the spoonful of Pad Thai that she is handling down, "Castle, we don't have to do this."

He shrugs, "Do what?"

"The polite banter. We both know what I said," Her eyes are downcast, as though she's unsure now of what she's put out there.

He sets down his own food and reaches across the distance between them, curving his hand against her cheek, tilting her head up, her eyes meeting his, "Hey, for you to say what you did, we both needed to know what I said." She nods, "It hasn't changed, Kate."

She smiles, resting against his palm, finally letting go of the breath she's been holding all day. Neither one of them sure when exactly it had become the norm for them to engage in all this physical contact, "We should eat."

He shouldn't be surprised really, that she wants to change the subject, to get away from him but still, he drops his hand as though she has scolded him. Turning to the food, he agrees, "Of course."

But she's there to reach out to him, to grab hold of his hand, "Only because it'll go cold. We can speak after."

He squeezes her fingers, grateful for her honesty, "Thank you."

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She goes to sit on the couch in the living room after their lunch, hoping that he's not in the mood for much more than a movie and maybe a glass of wine. She needs to unwind after a stressful day. It's not as though work was particularly hard today, but she spent the better part of the morning concerned about how Castle would take her note; whether he would simply hate her or embrace the part of her that had lied to him.

She's not disappointed when he takes her by the arm and guides her to the couch in his office instead, but she knows that her afternoon of relaxation is a long lost dream. She watches him, perplexed by his behaviour, but doesn't ask him what he is doing. She knows he has something to show her, she got his text message just as she knocked on his door. He wants her here, for what, she doesn't know, but she's willing to wait to find out.

Once she's settled he closes the door. And locks it.

A heavy feeling attacks her stomach. Not worry, not fear, just an unsettling inkling that she will be angry at him by the end of the day.

Only then does she ask, "What's going on here, Castle?"

He hands her a remote control and sits beside her, she flicks the control away, refusing to play a part in this game when she doesn't know the rules, "What is this?"

Her heart sinks further as she sees the look in his eyes, the soft plea for forgiveness, for something she isn't privy to yet, something guilty. He picks up the small remote again and presents it to her, placing it by her thigh again, "I want you to close your eyes."

"Castle?"

"Please, Kate." He touches her knee, "Close your eyes."

A bolt of electricity shocks through her at his touch and she finds her eyes closing whether she likes it or not. She thanks her body for not betraying her any further.

"Now, I want you to picture the words you wrote to me earlier today."

And she does. She can see the white paper in front of her, blank and begging for something. She can see her black pen gliding across the white, such a contrast and yet, meant to be. She can see her hands form the words she has not yet been able to say out loud.

She nods, holding the image firmly in her mind, "I can see it."

His breath kisses her cheek and she wonders when he got so close to her, not that she minds, she could spend eternity locked like this. His voice rumbling through the air to her, his touch setting her on fire, "Okay, now this is important." His lips touch her cheek and she has to physically hold her breath to stop the whimper escaping, "I need you to feel the way you felt as you wrote it. I need you to love me."

She's shocked that her mouth is already forming the word before she can stop it, "Always." It's breathy, sexy.

"Hold onto that feeling. And when you're ready, flick on the big flat screen on the wall."

She nods and slowly opens her eyes, startled to find Castle sitting across the room from her, having moved swiftly in a few seconds.

Her hands find the remote as she keeps her eyes firmly locked on Castle, suspicion blurring her vision at the edges, causing her focus to hold solely on her partner. She clicks the big red button.

Breathing heavily she lets her eyes glide to the monitor on the wall, afraid of what she will find. The plastic device fall to the ground with a clatter as the screen illuminates, her face in the centre.

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He's glad Alexis is on a date and he is so grateful that his mother seems to have disappeared after her little cleaning bout this morning. The way Kate is yelling at him is making him feel about two feet tall and he cannot imagine the embarrassment of having to explain why to his family.

It's a steady stream of 'how could you?' with an undercurrent of 'do you know the danger you've put yourself in?' that he is hearing. Her yells are frustrated and bitter and he is glad. Because while she's yelling, she's not running away. She is standing before him, allowing her fears to escape her, allowing their relationship a chance.

"She is my mother, Castle. Mine! And just because you were the one to convince me to take another look at her murder does not mean you get to work solo on it!" She doesn't wait for him to speak, he knows he'd be an idiot to interrupt her, "I'm not mad at you for what you've found. I'm furious for your carelessness. I'm livid that you thought you couldn't trust me enough to at least tell me what was going on." And he sees it, the fury, the rage, "What about Ryan and Espo? They're not me. If you insist on doing this, why couldn't they have helped you?"

He watches her pace back and forth, running her hands through her hair as she moves. Her eyes dart to the door on more than one occasion, but she doesn't run. He would never dream of holding her against her will, but he's definitely glad that he locked the door. At least this way they have the opportunity to resolve some of their issues, and as much as he hates her being mad at him, at least they're talking about this.

"I just don't understand why you feel like this is your battle, why you feel like you have to do this alone." He realises that she's almost muttering to herself, trying to justify his actions in her own head. "What did you think? That you would find my mom's killer and have him in cuffs before I realised what you were doing?" She faces him now, "You're not a cop, Castle. There is no way in hell that you could finish this on your own."

To say that her words are hurtful would be an understatement, but to say that he doesn't deserve them would be a lie. He takes each of her sentences like a punch to the gut, recoiling internally.

She sits once more on his couch, chest heaving with the exertion of her anger. Her shoulders bent forwards, framing her in a look of pure defeat.

Her eyes meet his, her voice softening, allowing the hurt to come across, raw and unbridled. "Do you know what it's like to see someone you love with a gun to their head?" The way the word tumbles from her mouth feels so natural. Love. She loves him. But the moment is too intense to realise it's the first time she's said it out loud. "Or what about as we were sinking to the bottom of the Hudson? When you didn't surface…" she presses a hand to her mouth, stifling the cry that wants to escape her, "You've told me again and again about that day at the cemetery, so I know that you know how this feels." Her eyes watch him cautiously, curiously, trying to understand why the pain of losing a partner only seems to apply in his head and not for her. With more conviction in her voice than she really feels able to muster, she finishes her monologue, "I can't lose you, Castle."

He approaches the couch, finally feeling safe enough to sit next to her, "So you understand why I've hidden it from you then?" He takes her hand, he counts it as a small victory that she doesn't pull away, "I can't lose you either."

She squeezes his fingers, and reluctantly looks his way, "Yeah, I understand that much."

And it's a start.

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