Kate's apartment isn't necessarily different, but it definitely isn't how he remembers it either.

Lily has certainly put her mark on the place, her artwork covering the fridge, a few of her toys littering the living room couch and floor, children's books mingling with the novels on Kate's bookshelves - which still feature all of his works; he checks, a smug smile stretching across his lips before Kate catches him with a narrowed look.

But Lily isn't the only person who has been living here with her. While Kate is out of sight helping Lily pack, he wanders the once familiar second home and finds traces of Tom.

A man's watch on the coffee table, a razor in the bathroom, his smiling face in the few family photos scattered across the space. It grates him. Not just the physical reminders of another man in her life, but the lack of them too. The presence as well as the absence. The toothbrush that's missing from the holder, the empty spaces on the shelves where his things must have gone, the silver band Kate has yet to return to her ring finger and he can't seem to find anywhere in the apartment.

He wants to ask what happened so badly it's like a living beast he has to tame, bite back from clawing its way out of his mouth. But whatever they are still feels too new, too fragile, and he can't afford to drive her away, not now.

Doesn't stop his blood from boiling and his stomach from hollowing out over the physical evidence of Kate being with another man, of Lily practically being raised by him for the last few years. So much time and so many moments Rick will never be able to reclaim, experience, make up for.

"If you're done snooping, Lily's dying to show you her room," Kate muses from behind him, jerking his attention away from the framed photo next to her computer.

"The old guest room?" he assumes, clearing his throat and schooling his features before he turns around to face her. "And I wasn't snooping, I was just… admiring."

Kate shoots him a disbelieving glare, but he merely strides past her, towards the opposite end of the apartment where Lily's open bedroom door beckons.

He steps inside, scanning his eyes along the expanse of the redecorated room until they land on Lily sitting inside the slim closet.

"Wow, nice," he compliments, earning the quick rise of her attention.

Lily beams up at him and hastily tucks her stuffed elephant into her bag; the purple backpack from earlier has been exchanged for a larger suitcase that Kate has already folded a week's worth of clothing into.

"Momma and Aunt Lanie painted it with me last summer," Lily explains, standing from the floor. She abandons her suitcase to approach him in the doorway, grabbing his hand to draw him along after her for the grand tour of the small room. "I wanted it to look like an enchanted forest."

Castle roams his eyes along the walls, over the printed trees stretching from the hardwood floors, up the dark purple walls to the ceiling. Birds are perched on their branches, white flowers - lilies - drawn near the trunks and along certain limbs, and stars painted amidst the leaves.

"Aunt Lanie and I did the flowers, but Mom did all the stars."

Castle extends his arm upwards to dust his fingers to one of those carefully crafted, golden stars, all varying sizes, all coated in a clear layer of glitter.

"This must have taken a long time," he murmurs and Lily hums her confirmation.

"Yeah, but Mom spent all of her free time helping me, especially on her days off from work. Oh!" Lily lets go of his hand to skip towards the doorway. "Watch this."

She flips off the overhead light, and he knows what to expect before she reaches for another switch, saw the cords of twinkle lights Alexis used to adore as a kid pinned to the walls and strung across the ceiling. But it doesn't steal from the sense of magic that spills through the room when Lily turns them on.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Lily breathes and he glances back to see his little girl's face illuminated by the soft glow of gold twinkling through the room. Her eyes are a rich amber like Kate's, her smile possessing that same wondrous quality his fiancee's once did in the moments he managed to amaze her with little things. The repair of her father's watch, a dedication in his novel, seashells on the wall, a wedding ring in the park.

"Most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he confirms.


The majority of Tom's clothing is gone from the closet, his belongings cleared out of the nightstand. Her abandoned ring is no longer there to glare up at her, and Kate packs her bag with a heart that feels too heavy for all she's gained this week.

There's a small part of her that wants to call him, tell him to come back, that they can work things out - the part of her that wants to feel secure in where she stands. The part of her that wants things to feel familiar again, easier. But then she hears Castle's voice in the other room, Lily's laughter, and the desire to listen to that combination every day for the rest of her life wins out with ease.

She slings the duffel bag over her shoulder and moves into the bathroom, starts plucking her toiletries from the shower and cabinets.

"Hey Kate," Castle calls minutes later, knocking on the open door of her bedroom before poking his head inside. "Almost ready?"

"Yeah," she murmurs, switching off the light in the en suite once she's sure she has everything. But when she returns to her room, Castle is already inside, tugging open the top drawer of a bureau.

"Again with the snooping," she huffs and he has the decency to look sheepish, but his eyes are glued to the inside of the drawer he's pulled open.

A small panic swirls through her chest. She knows why he chose that drawer now.

"My drawer," he mumbles, dipping his hand inside, shock blooming through his gaze when he encounters the contents she has hidden away near the back.

"Castle-"

But he's already pulling things out, putting his hands all over everything like he has been from the moment she met him, and she drops the duffel bag, moves to stop him, beg him to stop.

"Our shells," he breathes, withdrawing the pouch of seashells from their first trip to the Hamptons together. The contenders that hadn't made the beautiful collection he pieced together into artwork on what was once their bedroom wall. "Oh, and that's where that picture of us from my desk went, I was looking everywhere for it."

"Rick," she presses, crossing the room to grab his hand before he finds-

He sets down the shells and the engagement photo she stole from its frame when she moved out of the loft, slipping the newspaper clippings out instead.

He stares down at them with parted lips and wide eyes. The pieces of his murder board that she took down only two years ago, mostly for Tom's benefit.

Not that it mattered. She still has all of the information in a file at the precinct, tucked away in the bottom drawer of her desk.

"Kate," he whispers, spreading the articles out amidst his fingers.

She's sure he's able to read her markings on each piece, the notes scribbled along the sides in her handwriting, only a glimpse of proof into her obsession.

"Please," she gets out, covering his hands and easing the clippings from his fingers. "I can't - I had to keep them, just in case."

"There must be at least twenty articles here," he states numbly, his gaze still glued to the newspaper even as she neatly stacks them together in her own hands.

There are twenty-three, but she purses her lips together, brushes her thumb over the photo of him staring up at her.

"It was a big deal," is all she says, glancing back to him, just in time to see him reaching back into the damn drawer. "Castle, come on. There aren't any more-"

He pauses with his brows knit together at what his fingers encounter next. It's only then that she remembers what she shoved into the very back of the drawer.

"My shirt?" he murmurs, pulling out the olive green button down, unfolding it, and causing the black lace tucked away with it to flutter to his feet. He bends to retrieve it before she can and Kate closes her eyes, hears the catch in his breath. "And - lingerie. You wore this for me when-"

"Yeah," she cuts him off, opening her eyes with resolution.

She reaches for the items on the bureau's surface, for the shirt in his hand, but he holds the black negligee out of her reach.

"You gave me this drawer for our first Valentine's Day and you kept it as my drawer all this time," he summarizes, the awe in his voice subtle but present. "Everything in here is mine."

She rolls her eyes, snags for the lingerie again, but he crushes it in his fist.

"This too."

"You're being an ass-"

"No, I'm being grateful," he corrects, tucking the black lace into his inside jacket pocket, and her nostrils flare. "Grateful you never wore it for anyone else."

She resists the urge to slap him, shoves at his chest instead, something hot and painful tearing open inside her chest, and Castle looks down at her in surprise.

"Of course I didn't," she hisses, her heart seared. And maybe it's because it hurts so much to remember their physical connection, how deeply she can love him with her body alone, how she was once able to say things through dance of limbs and seal of skins that she could never express with words, but she struggles to rein it in. "How could you even think… if I'd had any idea you were alive-"

She blinks away the irrational burn of tears, gives up on trying to explain it, and strides past him. She needs a moment to collect herself, to not remember how during her first time with Tom, it was Castle's name she breathed out in release.

"Kate," he calls after her. His fingers curl around her arm, his grip spinning her around to face him. The momentum nearly slams her against his chest, but Castle steadies her with hands to her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. She shakes her head, drops it forward to his collarbone.

His breath stutters beneath her touch, her proximity, but she doesn't pull back.

Kate curls into him, closes her eyes, and buries her face against his neck. It's been so long, too long, since he's held her, their moment in the hospital too rushed and wrapped in confusion.

She's been trying not to push, to give him - and herself - time to adjust, but she's missed the sense of safety that comes with having him so close, the comfort of having his heart beneath her ear.

Castle's hands are hesitant, but they splay at her shoulder blades while his cheek lowers to her temple, the exhale of his breath feathering along her ear.

"Sorry," he murmurs again, rubbing slow circles over her spine. "I am an ass, I'm sorry."

Her lips quirk, but she doesn't want an apology, doesn't want him feeling guilty for something out of his control.

"Don't be." She sucks in a breath, regrets it as the aroma of his scent fills her lungs, and unfurls her arms from between them, grips his hips.

"I'll put it back," he promises, his lips brushing her hair. "I'll go right now-"

"No," she mumbles around a swallow, pulling back from his tentative embrace. "Keep it."

His eyes flare wide, electric blue, and she touches her fingers to his chin, grazing the stubble along his jaw.

"It was only ever for you," she confirms, dropping her hand as she hears the close of Lily's bedroom door.

She diverts her eyes from his gaze, from the longing blooming bright in his irises, and takes a step back at the approach of small footsteps.

"Momma?" Lily is standing at her side, staring up at Kate with a knit brow. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Kate murmurs, attempting to reassure Lily with a lift of her lips, the comb of her fingers through her daughter's hair. It doesn't wholly convince her, but it's enough for Lily to accept her mother's denial. "Do you have everything?"

"All my clothes, my art supplies, my school stuff, and my elephant," Lily lists with a nod of confirmation.

"Good girl," Kate praises with a grin. "I'm just going to grab my bag and we're ready to-"

"Wait!" Lily gasps. "I forgot something!"

She races back to her room and Castle nudges her hip once their daughter is out of sight, her bag already waiting in his grasp.

"Thank you," she murmurs, moving to take it from him, but he slings it over his shoulder.

"I'll take it down to the town car, wait for you there-"

"It doesn't have to be awkward, Rick," she sighs, risking a glance at his face to see the sullen expression, the guilt claiming his features. He has nothing to feel guilty for. "We can… talk about this kind of stuff, it's just going to take some time."

He nods his acceptance without hesitation. "I can wait."

An unbidden smile threatens to stretch across her mouth, but she purses her lips. "I know."

"Got it," Lily breathes, rushing back out of her room to join them in the middle of the apartment. She holds up a notebook to Castle. "Here."

"More drawings?" he asks with a smile. Kate kind of loves him for that, for already showing so much interest in what Lily's most passionate about, but their daughter is shaking her head.

"No, that's an extra sketchbook of mine. I haven't used it yet so I thought you could," Lily explains, pushing it into his hands. "So you can draw your dreams and maybe find your memories."

Castle's fingers curl around the black spiral-bound pad, one of Kate's old detective notebooks she recycled for Lily's artwork collection. He quickly covers his surprise with another smile for Lily, this one a little strained, taut with emotion that laces along his lips and spreads to his eyes.

"Thank you. I'll keep it on my bedside table tonight so I can reach for it right away in the morning."

And Lily looks so pleased by that alone, that Kate reaches for his arm while their daughter is busy adjusting her suitcase, and she squeezes his bicep with gratitude.

"Ready now?" Kate asks, withdrawing her keys from her pocket.

"Yep." Lily nods and starts for the door with her suitcase trailing after her, both parents close behind.

"Are you sure?" Castle murmurs. Lily is opening the front door to wait in the hall for Kate to lock up. "I mean - are you sure you'll be okay with this? I want to give you the space you need, Kate. I don't want you to think I-"

Kate pauses with her key in the door and shakes her head.

"I don't want space, I don't want to give you space. That's - god, that's the last thing I want after the last six years," she whispers, biting down on her bottom lip and closing the door to her apartment. "We both just need some time, Castle, to take things slowly, find a solid ground. That's all. But it doesn't mean I want - I don't want to be away from you, don't need any more space, so yeah, I'm sure."

She reaches for Lily's hand as they walk down the hallway, lets her daughter press the call button for the elevator. The girl swings their clasped palms back and forth while they wait, and Kate glances to Castle for his response.

"Solid ground sounds good," he concedes.

She grazes her knuckles along the back of his hand, but doesn't twine their fingers yet.

She knows he is still lost between an old reality and the new, she has just ended things with Tom; time is a good thing.

Not that the logic stops her fingers from twitching with the urge to hold his hand.