She stares at him; something in her stomach is thrashing to get out. She can't. . .can't even. . .
"I'm a hypocrite?" she says, crossing her arms.
He flinches. But he doesn't say anything.
"*I'm* the hypocrite?"
It bubbles up in her, all the things she wants to unload on him, all the words she wants to blast him with. All of it. Two years worth of being trapped-
But instead, Kate walks out.
Rick stands there a second, both stunned and grateful because he expected this terrible verbal beatdown, but the cold, closed-off look on her face has frozen him to his spot.
Sometimes he's supposed to go after her, sometimes he's not. He has no idea which one this is. And his gut is telling him nothing. Actually, his gut is quaking in fear that he's totally overstepped, that he's. . .
That was a noise, like a door closing. Where is she going?
That was the *front* door.
Castle hustles out of the study, still in his pajamas, and runs for the foyer. He snatches open the door, runs down the hall, and sees the elevator lights going down. Now he's pissed. Scared, sure, but seriously angry with her for walking out.
He can't go after her; Dash is upstairs. And she knows that. Strategic strike.
Castle clenches his fist, jerks back open his front door, and runs into Kate.
"Kate!"
"What are you doing?" She's still stone-cold angry, her eyes glittering shards of ice.
"I thought. . .I heard the door." He rubs a hand down his face.
She holds up the debit card, smacks it into his chest. "You can have this back, you bastard."
He grabs her wrist, crushing his fingers around her hand. "Don't call me names, Kate. You're being-"
"I can be however I want to be. If I want to call you names, I damn well will, you asshole! You tricked me. You betrayed my trust, Castle." She shoves on his chest, uses his momentum backwards to step in and twist her wrist free of his grip, then flips him sideways.
He feels the wall meet his ribs and winces. Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to bruise. He catches her other wrist as she makes a move, draws her up against his chest to prevent any more maneuvers like that.
"You *hurt* me," he snarls.
Kate's face flares. "You hurt me first!" Her mouth twists, and suddenly, she's crying, furious tears that streak down her cheeks. "You *hurt* me."
Oh God.
Castle pulls her closer, one hand still clutching both her wrists against his chest, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. She buries her face against his neck, struggles against his grasp half-heartedly. He can feel her tears, wet and slick against his skin.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispers against her ear, backing her up against the wall to keep her trapped.
"Why would you do that?" she whispers, and he feels the shuddering of her shoulders as she tries to choke down her tears.
"It was an impulse, a stupid impulse. I'm sorry. I got the extra cards in the mail and I just. . .I just. . .every time you refused to use the money, it hurt, Kate. It was like a rejection, every time. And I just wanted to be needed for something. . .it was stupid. It was stupid, and I'm sorry."
Kate sucks in a tremulous breath and shoves against his chest with her trapped hands. "Let me go, Castle."
"No."
"Seriously, let me go," she says again, her forehead against his neck, her lips tickling his collarbone.
"No. I'm afraid you'll leave. I'm afraid you walk out the door," he says honestly.
She chuckles bitterly against his skin. "Can't just leave, Castle. You think any judge in this city is going to give me custody of Dash?"
Castle's stomach plummets. He steps away from her, drops her hands. His chest hurts; he struggles to keep his face neutral. "You think I'd take him away from you?" He's having trouble breathing. "You think I've trapped you. And I've made you cry, shit." He steps back again; he can't be near her right now. Not when she's. . ."You leave, Kate, and I won't go after you. I won't. . .I won't do that to you."
Kate stares at him, the second freaking wound from him in a matter of twenty minutes. This is what happens; you get your heart cut out at every turn.
"Are you kidding me?" She says, advancing on him. "I leave, and you won't come after me? The hell you won't." She pushes on his chest, shoving him towards the living room. "You better come after me. If I do something as selfish and stupid as walking out on my family, you better come after me. You didn't learn that the first time?"
Kate reaches out with her left hand, grabs his left hand as well, yanking it up in front of his face, their rings clashing.
"You think this doesn't mean anything to me? I freaking married you, Castle." She steps in even closer, pushes on him again to shove him into the couch. He sits with a flop.
"I didn't have to. It's not 1955. But I wanted to. Because I love you. I love you, you idiot. That's why it hurts so much."
He sits, gaping.
"You have some serious insecurities here. It's not pretty, Castle. You gonna man up and talk about this shit you're spouting at me? Or are you going to make more stupid comments?"
Castle runs a hand down his face, shakes his head. "I'm gonna try to stop making stupid comments."
"And by the way, that was a joke. A lame joke, I see that now. But holy crap-"
"Okay, okay. Got it. Message received. Sit down so this feels less like an interrogation," he says, reaching up to snag her hand, tug her down.
Kate sits on the coffee table across from him, still angry, but feeling better in the anger than she had with the hurt.
"Wow," he says, shaking his head again. "You're hot when you're pissed."
"Well pathetic-ness isn't attractive on you, Castle," she says, lifting a foot up to push on his knee. She settles her foot on the couch just inside his thigh. "This. . .whatever this is you're coughing up on me. So talk."
"The moment's gone now."
"That's not funny."
"It is a little bit."
She watches him for a second, narrowing her eyes. "Here's the deal. You did something sneaky and tricky, something wrong, and now that I know about it, I'm. . .hurt."
A flicker of a grin flashes in his eyes, and she nudges his knee with her foot. "Shut up, Castle. You know that's hard for me to admit."
"I'm sorry for tricking you. You know that, right?" He leans forward, wraps a hand around her foot.
"Being sorry doesn't erase the fact that you did it."
"I did it because you keep putting me off, Kate. You keep pushing me aside. And I didn't know what else to do."
She studies him, chewing on her bottom lip.
"We both have some nasty insecurities going on here," he says softly. "Are *you* going to man up and talk about it?"