A/N: Just a short one to set up for the next chapter.

Thanks again for the reviews! I appreciate everyone taking the time to leave them.

I'm really trying to portray the 'messy' thoughts, without it being too messy that no one can understand – so if it's too much, please let me know!

Enjoy! :)

Please let me know when you arrive home safe.

He was mad… furious even – but that didn't mean he would stop caring about her.

He stared at the screen of his phone, wondering if he should even bother sending the text… it's not like she would actually reply. She had left… run away… again. And she had probably already messaged Lanie to let her know she was home hours ago – it was, after all, almost evening. But if she had, Lanie hadn't mentioned it. Not that she would… not given the current situation.

He tapped the send icon before he had a chance to fully talk himself out of it. There – it's done.

He entered the kitchen, where the gang was beginning to prepare the meal for tonight. Jenny and Ryan had gone into town earlier to buy the necessary ingredients for their favorite recipe. Castle placed his phone on the island counter and began to wash his hands, intending to help out in any way his friends would allow him to – but the slight buzz of his silenced phone interrupted him. He looked at the small screen, now lit up with her name and picture. His heart skipped a beat as his nerves took control of his body – his brain telling him to move, to answer, while simultaneously stopping him from doing so. So instead, he just watched it continue to vibrate on the bench. He could feel the tension in the room growing as his friends watched him blatantly ignoring the call.

"Has anyone heard from her?" he asked, his mind going to all the wrong places. What if she hadn't made it home? What if this was a first responder who read the text and was now calling to inform them that she had not made it home safe.

The group muttered their no's and not yet's… giving Castle the push he needed to answer the call.

"Beckett?" he asked, cautiously.

"Castle?" he heard the familiar voice through the speaker and let out a small sigh of relief. But he could hear that she was confused… had she not intended to call him? She was, after all, the one who had dialed… or at the very least, hit the 'call now' option under his name. How was she confused? "I wasn't expecting you to answer, to be honest."

Well, he wasn't going to. Maybe he shouldn't have…

"I got your text." She continued, taking his silence as a hint that he wanted her to get to the point already. "I was going to message you earlier, but I figured maybe you'd like some time…"

"Not really."

"Right…" her voice faded and another few seconds of silence fell. "I guess I just wanted to say that I'm sorry – I handled everything so wrong, and you deserve so much more than that. I heard you, Castle – I heard you when you said you were done, and I get it. You don't owe me anything – and I owe you so much… if you're ready to say goodbye then I will respect that – but I have so much that I want to say to you… When you're home… can we talk?"

He contemplated briefly – too long for her anxious state of mind.

"Like I said – I get it… if you don't want to just say the word and I'll leave you be." She began to ramble nervously.

But how many chances was he ready to give her? How many times was he willing to place his heart into her hands, just to watch her drop it and run away? Maybe he was reading into this again… there was, after all, a very good chance she wasn't even wanting another shot at this – maybe she simply wanted to end things on slightly better terms… maybe she wanted to allow them both some sort of closure. And he couldn't fault her for that, could he?

"I'll talk to you later, Beckett." He finally said before ending the call. It had sounded more dismissive than a promise of hope, but he simply didn't have the capacity to continue this right now. Had it been petty to leave her stirring without an actual answer to her question? Perhaps. But did that pettiness temporarily make him feel better? Absolutely.

In the calm of her apartment, Beckett sat on her couch, backed into the corner with her knees to her chest. Her phone, still lingering at her ear after his abrupt dismissal. She deserved that… what a nerve she had, asking him for more after all he had done was give, give, give. Every part of her ached… sure, they had had fights before. She had thought it was the end, before – but one way or another they had made their way back to each other. But something about this felt so final.

We crossed the line. She thought to herself. Thinking back to her conversation, earlier, with Esposito. That's what changed. And she knew they had rushed into it – that's why she so desperately wanted to talk to Castle this morning… tell him it shouldn't have been something they rushed, but instead something they could have savored and basked in. But the words hadn't come out right.

She vowed to herself that if he did allow them to meet again, to talk things through one final time, she wouldn't let the words escape her. She would take the opportunity to say absolutely everything that needed to be said – and she would say it right!

She pushed herself from the couch and grabbed a notepad and pen from the bookshelf. Settling herself in her office, she began writing hastily. At first, the page mirrored her mind – messy and indecipherable. But as she worked on it over the hours, writing and rewriting everything she needed Castle to know, it all became clearer. By morning she had a perfectly legible and straightforward letter for her writer.

Satisfied that she had done all she could for now, she headed to bed – the exhaustion from the day lulling her off to sleep in record time. At last, her mind was at peace.