He stood in the doorway between his bedroom and the office, watching her sleep – more peacefully than he assumed she had since this whole mess began. The two ceramic mugs began to heat his knuckles as he gripped the small handles… but he couldn't bring himself to wake her just yet. Her alarm had sounded over an hour ago – but seeing as she had left her phone upstairs last night, he was able to silence it before it woke her. Now, he knew it was creeping dangerously close to time for one of the boys to pick her up for work – so he tiptoed forward and ever-so-carefully placed one of the ceramic mugs on the bedside table. She stirred slightly as his weight caused the mattress beside her to dip, her brow furrowing by the disruption.

"I made you coffee…" he started, as she attempted to rub the lingering fatigue from her face.

He waited carefully for her to push herself up the bed into a sitting position, before handing her the mug he was still holding. He smiled, noting she was much less 'zombie'-like, this morning. Those few extra hours of sleep must have helped.

"Don't be mad… but I let you sleep in." he finished, once he was confident enough that the coffee was providing enough of a distraction to save him from her inevitable displeasure.

She looked around the still darkened room, momentarily. The small amount of sunlight making its way through the cracks in his bedroom blinds seemed much harsher than the usual sunrise she would wake up to. She looked back to Castle, who was dressed in his usual business casual – a disappointing contrast to when she last saw him.

"How late?" was all she managed, sipping on the coffee Castle had brought her.

"It's almost eight." He replied.

She almost spat out the coffee – jumping into action – but managed to choke it down. "Castle!" she complained, pushing the hot ceramic into his hands, and pulling herself out of the warmth of his sheets. She fumbled around, trying to find her shirt from the night before… where the heck is it? "Esposito will be here any minute now!" she continued once she found her clothing.

"And he can wait ten minutes for you, while you eat the breakfast I've made."

"I don't have time – I have to shower and get ready." She didn't want to sound unappreciative… she was grateful for the extra sleep – for him staying with her until she was able to fall asleep – and she felt so much more human than she had been… but she really would have liked being a part of the decision whether to stay in bed this morning…

"I've seen you get ready for work in less than ten minutes… and that's with me trying to distract you." He straightened up the shirt she just slipped over her head and gave her a kiss on the forehead in attempt to help calm her. "Just a few quick bites of breakfast… please."

His voice was practically pleading with her – how could she say no to that? Nodding, she took the coffee from his hands and allowed him to lead her out to the kitchen. There, awaiting her at the island counter, was an already plated up serve of scrambled eggs and several rashers of bacon. The smells, though not offensive, made her stomach flip as soon as it reached her nostrils. She brought her coffee to her chin, allowing the bitter aroma to overpower her senses and settle her stomach again. But she wasn't about to be rude… not now. Not after he had gone to all this effort, for her.

"It's a lot, I know. I don't expect you to eat it all…" he trailed off, noting the hesitance in each bite.

"It's great! Thankyou. I just… I really just don't have the time. I'm so sorry." She leant over to give him a kiss on the cheek… a thank you… before heading upstairs to get ready for the day.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"She's in the shower – she won't be long." Castle explained, as Esposito and Ryan entered the loft.

"She's usually ready by now… is she okay?" Esposito asked.

The boys began taking mental notes of their surrounds – dining table; still covered in scrap, kitchen; benches covered in pots, pans, and leftover breakfast foods. Ryan spotted the belt, draped casually over the back of the armchair, and the navy-blue button up tossed into the corner near the main bedroom. The usually pristine loft was… well, for Castle's standards, it was a mess.

"Are you holding up okay?" he asked, before Castle had a chance to answer the first question fired his way. "The shift in sleep schedule has got to be taking its toll."

"I'm fine… I get to sleep throughout the day."

"Enough?" Ryan pushed.

"Some." Castle ran his hands through his hair, deciding he must look a mess – that will be what's brought on the sudden questions. "Sleep isn't my problem here… it's these damn papers." He changed the subject, leading the two detectives to the dining table.

"Haven't found anything yet?" Esposito questioned.

"I've found plenty… but so far, I am struggling to see how any of it is supposedly this damning evidence that has a hitman running around the city torturing and killing people to get back. Most of what we've pieced together is just copies of what we already have." Castle started to point to the different piles that he had sorted. "Crime scene photos from Johanna Beckett's file…"

His fingers darted from pile to pile, "I'm working on several pages of Bob Armen's file – autopsy reports, et cetera. I'm thinking our best bet is this receipt here… it looks like a money order, and I think this, here, is the account number… these 8 digits."

"Is that an eight or a three?" Ryan asked, pointing to the papers in front of them. The shreds of paper fit together perfectly… but the second digit – seemingly a number 3 – just didn't look quite right in comparison to the other digits.

"I had the same thought… it isn't as wide as the other numbers – so I'm thinking it's been cut in half…" Castle smiled, knowing that they were on the same wavelength.

"So, we find out who opened this account, and we might have our guy?" Esposito filled in the blanks.

"Possibly… but can we search accounts that far back?" Castle raised his doubts. This is why he hadn't mentioned anything to Beckett. He didn't want to give her false hope.

"Do you remember when we were checking banking accounts for the dirty bomb investigation?" Ryan ran with the momentum they had built up – finally they might have something!

"The Federal Banking database." They heard the voice from behind them. They had been too caught up in the newfound knowledge to notice her presence.

The three men stared at her – she looked both nervous and hopeful.

"I still remember the password." Esposito broke the brief silence, brought on by her sudden appearance.

The group, led by Castle, rushed to his office where his laptop was ready and waiting.

"It's on." Castle stated, motioning for Esposito to take charge and do… whatever it was he needed to do.

It took a few minutes for him to load up the database that he needed – Ryan and Castle crowded around him, nervously. Beckett stayed by the door, anxiously biting down on her bottom lip, and running her hands through her hair. She avoided looking directly at anyone – her stomach couldn't handle the tension – but she could feel Castle's eyes burning into her skin.

"Eight, or three, Beckett?" he asked softly, mainly just trying to find an excuse to talk… to use his voice to ground her. He could almost feel her anxiety radiating from her. And it seemed to work.

She released her bottom lip from the pressure of her teeth and took a deep breath. Ryan and Esposito's eyes met hers. "Try eight." She decided.

Esposito tapped away at the keyboard… and just a few clacks after, they all stood in silence, waiting for the computer to run its search.

She hadn't even noticed that she had zoned out again – or that her breathing was jagged – until she felt a hand under her elbow, supporting her. She snapped back to reality and the weight of her chest made her feel faint.

"Just focus on me." Castle whispered, softly – searching her eyes for any sign that she was receptive of him.

She pushed his hand away and turned to pace in front of the books lining his walls. Why was this happening? Why now? She focused on her breathing… in… out… As she approached the wall, she realised she would have to turn and head back toward him. In… out… She turned, eyes meeting his. He was hurt by her rejection… She had hurt him… again. Why did she do this? Why couldn't she just accept his help? In… out… she took a few strides toward him – that's all it took to close the short distance. In… out… In… out…

"Focusing on you." She whispered back, taking his hand in hers. The show of affection, not something she would usually do in front of other people, wasn't uncomfortable. And even though she could feel Ryan and Esposito's eyes on them, she felt safe… hidden. See… if you stopped fighting this for just one second, you would realise it isn't that scary.

The ding that sounded from Castle's laptop brought them all back to the job at hand. Her stomach dropped… would this be it? The final clue she has been waiting for… the name she has so desperately wanted to know since that night? Or would this be yet another dead end?

"The account was closed in ninety-three." Esposito started. "It belonged to a guy named William H. Bracken."

The name sounded familiar… so familiar. But where had she heard that name before? He certainly wasn't a cop from back in the day – she didn't think he was an associate of Montgomery's, like Smith had been.

"Castle… your mail." She said, eyes suddenly wide with realisation. They rushed to the kitchen in unison, Beckett fumbling for the small pile of mail Castle left on the counter.

"What's going on?" Esposito called out, crossing the living area to join them, Ryan close behind.

Beckett held up a pamphlet that had been dropped in, undoubtedly, every mailbox in the area… a re-election pamphlet.

"Senator William Bracken." Castle read loud the information held in front of him.

Ryan's brow furrowed, disbelief crossing his face. She couldn't fault him… he had somehow managed to still see the good in everyone, so of course he wouldn't blindly believe someone like senator Bracken – who had built such a strong campaign – would be behind so much evil. Even she, as jaded as she had grown, partially didn't want to believe the evidence they had.

"His timeline fits…" Ryan said, reading from a webpage on his phone. "He was assistant DA for New York around the time Montgomery was running with Raglan and McCallister."

"He must have gotten onto them somehow… wanted a cut of the money."

"That's all circumstantial… we still – we still have nothing." The frustration broke through as her voice cracked.

"Kate…" Castle wanted to take the hurt away… but she was right. They had all the proof that they needed – but nothing that they could actually work with.

"This is it… this is the proof Montgomery had and it's useless to us." A tear broke free and ran down her cheek. She scolded herself for being foolish, for believing that this might actually be over for her… that she might actually be saved.

I give you a name, I know you, you'll run straight at him. Montgomery's words echoed in her head. She hated that he was right – she hated that every part of her was screaming for her to go straight to Bracken and demand answers. But that wouldn't achieve anything. She would be dead the second she was within eyesight. More tears flowed free as her mind swirled with anger and hatred. A tremor rippled through her body as the fatigue and stressed weighed heavy on her. She felt as though she was falling apart at the seams – no matter how hard she tried to hold it all in, she just couldn't.

"Kate…" his voice echoed through the chaos of her mind, repeating her name so sweet and soft in comparison to the rage fuelling her breakdown.

As soon as she felt his hands at her sides, she let go – a broken cry, gasping for breath as her chest grew tighter with each sob released into his chest. "I'm not ready to die."

The fear in her voice was enough to shatter his heart into a million tiny pieces. She had convinced herself for years that she would do anything… give anything to bring her mother's killer to justice. Even when it looked like her life might be the price she had to pay… she had only ever stopped at the request of others. But now… now that last flicker of hope had faded away and the world had never felt so dark.

"This isn't over yet." Esposito, too stubborn to ever back down, made his way back over to the pieces of file on the dining table. "We have the answer… now we have a better idea of what to look for. We can find a way to connect him to all this."

No one said anything… the only sound to ease the silence were Beckett's quiet sobs as she tried so desperately to regain her composure.

"Espo… we should go." Ryan said, softly, before turning his attention to Beckett – who's face was still buried in Castle's shirt. "We will cover for you, with Gates. Tell her something came up… or something. Just… take some time. We aren't giving up." He placed his hand on her shoulder, gently comforting her, as he walked by.

Castle didn't move until well after the boys had left the loft… allowing her whatever time she needed to compose herself. When, after several minutes, she lifted her head from his chest and wiped away the last remaining tears, Castle took her hand and lead her to the couch – sitting entirely too close.

"I know blind optimism isn't your usual 'go to' coping mechanism… but Espo is right." He started, cautiously, not wanting to entice an argument. She frowned at the not-so-subtle jab at her occasionally reckless coping methods, but she seemed otherwise encouraging… and so, he continued. "We know who our bad guy is… we have the outline of the story – the rest is just 'filler'."

"Filler? You mean the details? The important stuff?" as much as she hated when he would compare real life to his books… she couldn't deny that his outlook on these things did help make sense of things she otherwise couldn't.

"My point is… we don't need every little detail right now… we can figure all that out later." His voice wasn't as soft anymore – it was frustrated and desperate.

"Castle –"

"We have enough, Kate. We have enough to convince him we have the file – a complete file… enough to ruin his career, at the very least. We can use that to buy us some time."

"It's not going to be enough…" she sighed. She hated seeing him so desperately grasping at straws.

"How do you know that?"

She didn't answer… because she didn't know. But she couldn't – wouldn't – allow herself to hope for this to end. Not again. Everything felt so heavy, so dark… her body and mind, abused by the crushing blow of hard ground, finally ending the freefall that seemed to be her life.

"You could be safe again…" he pushed, not ready to let go.

She sunk lower into the couch, leaning against his side and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm tired, Castle." She was no stranger to this state of mind… but she no longer had the energy to fight herself right now.

He let an unamused puff of air pass his lips. "Yeah…" he would stop pressing… for now. Perhaps after a little more sleep, she would see that there is still reason to hope.

She had said it herself… she wasn't ready to die. And he wasn't going to stand by and allow that to happen.

He wrapped his arm around her back, holding her against him firmly. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep. He had every intention of getting up… but when he shifted, she rolled slightly and rested her arm across his chest, nuzzling herself even more so into his body. The innocent action tugged at his heart – feeling both beauty and pain. Although she had eased slightly over the past 24 hours – she had been carefully pushing him away. But now, her body was free from the control of her consciousness – and it sought to be close to him.

He rested his heavy head atop hers, allowing himself to drift into a light slumber…