Author's Note: Updates may be slightly less frequent the next couple weeks...I have two mini vacations coming up. But I'll do my best to not leave you hanging for too long.

Chapter 11

"Oh." Castle stumbles to a halt in the doorway that connects his office to the bedroom, surprised to see Kate curled up in his office chair, knees drawn to her chest, a ceramic mug of steaming liquid cradled in her left hand.

She startles, guiltily drops her other hand to her side, shoving her fingers deep down into the chair. The fingers that were most definitely not just caressing the diamond ring that should be comfortably nestled on her left hand.

"Hey."

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks blearily, running a hand through his hair.

"Mmmm. No."

To her surprise, he approaches, leans cautiously against the edge of the desk. "Can I help?"

She shrugs, caught unprepared by his offer, the complete transformation he seems to have gone through in the last twenty four hours. Kate stalls, takes a long drink of hot chocolate.

"There's more hot water in the kitchen if you want," she says instead, catching the way his eyes follow the mug to her lips and back down to rest on her bent knees.

He wasn't planning on a middle of the night snack. Hell, he wasn't planning on anything more than turning over and letting sleep pull him back under, until he rolled over to find the other half of the bed empty. And just like that, it was as though the last few hours never happened, as though Kate had left and he was here alone.

But he deduces her suggestion for what it is, a plea for a bit of space, a moment to force her sleepy mind to focus, to find the words to say what needs to be said. And so Castle stands, makes his way across the loft.

As the soft pad of footsteps grows fainter and fainter, Kate finds herself once again inexplicably drawn to the ring, to the delicate pattern of shimmering diamonds. It's extravagant, intricate, and yet not quite as over-the-top and flashy as she would have expected from him. And maybe, just maybe, she should give him a little more credit, because she has no doubt that it was a deliberate decision on his part, that he took into careful consideration both her job as well as her personal tastes and preferences.

Because he knows her, and he loves her. He's gone above and beyond to prove that to her.

Now it's her turn to do the same.

She's so enraptured by the ring that she doesn't hear him return, not until he settles back against the edge of the desk, his own mug of steaming cocoa clutched tightly in his grip. Kate blinks hard, forces her eyes away from the ring and up to Castle.

She opens her mouth to speak, say something about the ring, probably, but before she has a chance, she catches sight of the look in Castle's eyes, the tense flutter of emotions that linger behind his gaze, shimmering in the dim light of the lamp.

"Are you okay?"

He forces it down. "Fine, yeah."

"Castle."

Right. They're supposed to talk about things like this. "I thought you were gone," he admits brokenly, voice catching on the final word.

Gone? Oh. Because she wasn't in bed? That hadn't even occurred to her.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs yet again. "I couldn't sleep. I didn't realize..."

"It's okay," he assures her. He panicked, yes. Because she wasn't there. But he can't expect her to lay in bed wide awake, especially when he has a tendency to crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to write when an idea takes hold and just won't let go.

"I'm here, Castle," Kate promises softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He wants to agree with her, wants to say that he knows she's telling the truth. But he can't, because everything from the last week still lingers, and the panic of waking alone just now is still too raw.

When he says nothing, she switches tactics. "How come you're awake?"

He shrugs. "Just woke up."

"Hmmm," she acknowledges around another sip of cocoa.

"You?"

"Too much on my mind," she murmurs.

Castle nods in understanding but doesn't press for more. Now isn't the time, not at two in the morning, not when they've spent the majority of the last week apart and upset at each other. Not when they still haven't even managed any form of physical contact in days.

After their awkward dance around the bathroom as they stumbled through their usually-coordinated nightly routines, they'd settled into their respective sides of the bed, a chasm of space between them. They'd lain on their backs in silence for at least a minute before Castle offered a quick 'good night' and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Kate mimicked his position, returned the empty sentiment, curling in on herself as a fresh wave of heartbreak washed over her. Because for all the talking they'd done, all her apologies, they still found themselves uncomfortably tiptoeing around each other.

Hell, she isn't even sure why he bothered to offer to let her stay when it was clear he didn't want to be in bed with her. Maybe she should have gone out to the sofa, or up to the guest room. But the part of her that promised to stop running had asserted itself then, reminding her of her vow to fight for this, to face the issues and stare down the awkwardness. So she stayed.

And hardly slept a wink.

"Mmmm, yeah," Castle replies, and Kate has to retrace her thoughts to remember what he's even replying to.

When he falls silent, she lifts her eyes to him, only to find that he's now the one gazing at the ring, a forlorn look in his eyes, and it tugs at her heart. This stupid, stunning, frustrating, perfect ring that's come to symbolize everything they're not.

Not yet, she reminds herself.

"It's gorgeous, Castle." The words spill out uninvited.

What she thinks of the ring is the last thing on his mind at this point, especially considering that he couldn't even convince her to put it on her finger. And yet some small part of him breathes a sigh of relief, because while the proposal may have seemed sudden, he put a lot of thought into the ring, into what she would like and how it would look on her finger.

"I'm glad you like it," he answers almost without thinking.

She half-smiles into the darkness, cradles the mug closer to her chest. "I'm sorry I ruined your proposal."

Oh. That wasn't what she meant to say. Apparently her brain completely lacks a filter at two a.m.

"I guess I should have expected it," Castle shoots back with a shrug, voice suddenly rough and acrid, a complete departure from their soft conversation.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have expected you to say yes," he clarifies, the words bitter as they leave his mouth.

"Castle..." she pleads, because she really doesn't want this to turn into yet another fight.

"You don't commit, Kate. You never have. Why should I be any different?"

A stab of pain shoots through her chest, and she curls in on herself more tightly as Castle retreats, hastening from the office. But no. He doesn't get to run from this, not when he was the one to bring it up.

"Castle," she calls, un-bending her legs and getting to her feet, navigating through the semi-darkness of the office and out into the main room. She finds him by the kitchen sink, back to her as he gazes out over the city, the lights casting an amber glow across his skin, silhouetting the Manhattan skyline through the glass.

"Please just don't," he implores.

"Don't what?" she fights back determinedly. "Keep trying to make you see how sorry I am for the way I've treated you? Keep trying to prove to you that I'm committed? Is that what you want? Because it's not going to happen, Castle."

"Kate..."

"I'm here," she interjects. "And I want us to get married someday."

That catches his attention, puts an abrupt end to his pity party.

"I want to wear that ring," she admits, a small smile crinkling the corners of her eyes before her face falls again. "But right now, I don't deserve to."

"I offered it to you," Castle reminds her.

"But I didn't say yes," she recounts sadly. "I...the interview and everything else." Kate shakes her head. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. But I want to."

The part of him that's still nursing a bruised ego wants to agree with her, tell her she's right. That after all she's done, she doesn't deserve him at all.

But the other part of his mind, the more rational part that manages to look past the anger, reminds him of how extraordinary she is. Of how much he loves her, and how long he fought to even get her to notice him, to be a better man, someone deserving of someone like her. Intelligent, witty, professional, strong, multifaceted, beautiful.

So different from most of the women he's been with.

He's been divorced twice, has a reputation that most women like her would be dissuaded by. Then again, maybe she is. It's not something they've ever talked about. Something else to add to the list, he supposes, and what a horribly uncomfortable conversation that's going to be.

Instead, he settles for a middle ground.

"Maybe not," he concedes. "But sometimes I feel the same about you."

"Castle," she chokes out, because how could he even think that? God, he deserves so much better than her, and it still amazes her that she's the one he wants. The one he wants to marry, despite her flaws, despite the way she's hurt him.

Her eyes drop to her left hand yet again and she'd rather not admit that she's spent an inordinately large amount of time staring at her left ring finger recently, imagining the diamonds sparkling up at her.

"I'm sorry too," Castle says after a moment, leaning back to rest a hip against the edge of the counter.

She pulls her gaze up to him. "For what?"

"The way I handled this," he admits on a defeated sigh. "It wasn't...ideal."

And yet somehow, Kate can't help but defend him, because maybe it was rough and poorly timed and completely unexpected. But that's who they are. And she wishes she'd reacted better.

"It caught me off-guard more than anything," she admits eventually. "I thought...the things you were saying..." she chokes on the words, shakes her head, "I thought you were breaking up with me."

"God, no. Kate..."

"I know," she murmurs. "But I deserved it. I half-expected it. I never thought..."

"Neither did I," Castle admits. "But mother made a comment about how I couldn't expect you to not choose the job when you didn't know where we were going."

"Castle..." she begins.

"I knew that no matter what happened, I didn't want to be without you," he proceeds. "So..."

"Why didn't you say anything before now?" she questions curiously.

He shrugs. "Why bother? Everything was going well, you know. Or so I thought," he adds with a humorless laugh.

"So did I," Kate murmurs in agreement.

Sure, they hadn't talked about much, had been taking it day by day. But it had worked for them, up until recently, until she'd mistaken Castle's hesitance as him losing interest. And so she'd begun looking for her own way out, when what she wanted more than anything was him. And he'd taken that to mean that she wasn't committed.

What a mess.

He reaches back for his mug, long since discarded, takes an unsatisfying swig of the now-cold liquid. He dumps the rest down the drain, sets the dish into the sink, makes his way past her and out of the kitchen. She follows automatically, bare feet hurrying after him as her brain scrambles for the right words.

"Castle," she calls finally, halting him at the door to his bedroom.

"We're on the same page now," she says softly after a moment, placing a hand on his bicep, and when did she even get close enough to touch him? He jerks his head up in surprise, faraway look in his eyes slowly fading as he draws his focus to her, but he doesn't back away. "We are," she affirms as their eyes meet. "But we can't skip straight to the last sentence."

Deep down, he's still hurt. His pride is wounded and he's still not sure how firmly he can trust Kate's words and promises. But he smiles tentatively, and she offers a weak one of her own.

Because damn her, using literary metaphors to explain their situation. And despite it all, he's pretty sure he just fell in love with her a little harder.

Thoughts?