Alone together in the warden's office after explaining everything that she'd discovered, Castle stood pacing, plagued by his thoughts. He needed to absorb everything, to digest it all.

He'd always known he'd been framed. Of course he did. He'd just never known by whom and why. But now with the proof of it all laid out in front of him, and the detective he'd fallen in love with over the course of six years making him a promise to have him set free from incarceration as soon as possible, it was overwhelming. Too much. It knocked the wind right out of him.

A week ago, he'd resolved to never see her again, and resigned himself to his fate living behind bars. He'd made the decision to harden his heart to his feelings and move on, take each day as it came inside the prison walls. He could live on without her. He could get past the heartbreak of losing her. He'd live on for his daughter, and hold onto the hope that someday, maybe one day in the future, someone else would come along and take up his case. Someone would believe in him, and seek out the truth to set him free.

After a week ago, he'd never imagined that that someone would be Kate Beckett, tears in her eyes, trembling hands holding his own and making him promises that he'd only been hearing from her before in his dreams.

"I can't do this."

"I know it's - it's a lot to take in," Kate said, watching him cautiously from a distance. "But you'll get through this. It's already set in motion, Castle. Another week, maybe. There's a lot of paperwork and legal hoops, but I'm keeping the pressure on them. You're getting out of here. You're going to be free."

"Not - not that. I know it...it takes time, I understand that."

Kate remained silent.

"I just - this," he said, turning to face her and gesturing between them. "Us. It's - too soon, Kate."

"Too...soon?"

"I'm not ungrateful," he declared firmly. She was the whole reason he was going to get out of the place. Of course he was grateful. That was never in question. "This is all I've wanted. For years. Oh, god. My life back. I'm getting my life back."

Tears pricked at his eyes. His voice was shaky. Not just from the fact that he was reeling over the new developments, over the fact that everything was about to change, but because of her.

"I just - I can't pretend that everything is okay. You hurt me, Kate. And I can't - "

She drew away from him then. Recoiling in her seat.

"No, I - I get it. No, you're right. It's not okay. I - God, Castle."

She stood from the chair and made her way towards him, making him think she was coming for him. Instead, she seemed intent on the door. On escaping.

"I'll go. I - I should've just let the warden handle everything. You have every right to hate me. I've been horrible to you all these years and - I'm sorry." She choked on a sob. "I know it's not enough. It will never be enough but - I'm so sorry. For so many things, Rick. I'm so sorry."

She was halfway out the door when his hand thrust out, grasping her at the wrist.

Bewildered, heartbroken eyes sought his out anxiously. "Castle?" she whispered in askance.

"I just...need some time."

"Time," she repeated.

"Not forever. But...someday."

Some years ago, Richard Castle had been regaled as a master wordsmith. He'd always known what to say when it came down to it. Now, he let his eyes say what he couldn't find the words for.

He loved her. So help him, he did. He was hurt, he was angry. She'd betrayed him and broken his heart. And still he loved her so desperately, his broken heart had no choice but to try and pick up the pieces and mend them back together again. There was no getting over her, and truthfully, he didn't want to be. Over her. Them. It was everything he'd had getting him through the day for six years. She'd given him hope. She'd brought him joy. She was the reason he could still smile while his hands and feet had remained shackled to a table during each and every visit.

It was only because he'd grown to love her so deeply that the hurt and betrayal had run just as deep.

It would take time, and he knew it wouldn't be easy, but looking at her now, the grief in her eyes, the regret...he knew she was worth every second of the battle it would take to heal and get back where they wanted to be.

He loved her, and he knew she still loved him, too.

"Someday." Kate drew out the word as her gaze lingered into the seemingly bottomless depths of his sad, blue eyes. She nodded at him. "Okay." Another nod, a more firm bob of her head, "Okay."

Only when she had neglected to remove herself from the room did he realize that his hand was still attached to her wrist. He glanced down, noting for the first time the feel of her small frame, the slight bone structure. He'd never been able to touch her before. Not like this. Their fingers would brush during the passing of a coffee, a piece of paper, but now he was holding her. Caressing her. Her skin was so soft compared to the rough touch of his larger, calloused fingers and the dry, moisture-deprived skin of his hands. He used to have such soft hands for a man, but lotion was a luxury in prison, and uses for it amongst inmates...well, simply moisturizing was hardly a priority compared to other more creative uses most men had for it.

"Castle?" Kate asked anxiously. His grip had turned into a slight, sweaty tremble and his cheeks heated over the thoughts invading his imagination.

"Sorry." He released her, surreptitiously wiping his palm against his jumpsuit. Kate's eyebrow quirked, but she inquired no further, just drew her hand back to her side, slowly.

His stall in her departure seemed to ease her anxiety, as she started to speak more confidently again.

"It might be a while. I'm not sure yet," she restated, for emphasis or just to find a safer subject to discuss with him, he wasn't certain. Her back was holding the door ajar, and she already had one foot over the threshold. The other seemed reluctant to move.

"I'll make sure they keep you informed. You should call your lawyer as soon as possible though. He's probably already aware of everything; I gave a few people the contact info I had from you, so they could get him everything he needs. But just to be sure everything goes smoothly, keep on it."

"Right. Yes, I'll do that."

"Okay, good."

The room fell into silence then, and finally Kate bowed her head, hands tucked behind her back and gripping the door knob. She seemed to come to a decision.

"Take care of yourself, Castle. These people...it goes way up. I don't know if they would try to do anything to you in here. To retaliate. But please be careful. Keep your head down and try not to let word spread. If anything happened to you, Rick, I - "

She was in his arms the next moment, and it took him a few seconds to register that he'd been the one to move first. Kate's arms curled tentatively at his sides before gripping more firmly, pressing her body closer until he was sure she could feel the pound of his heart beneath his ribs, the rapid thump thump resounding in her ear. Castle drew her in, tucking her into his embrace. He breathed deeply, his nose dipped into the nape of her neck, allowing the scent of her skin and her hair to fill his senses. He'd only caught whiffs of her perfume wafting from across the table in the years prior, and now she was downright intoxicating.

"I'm still mad," he whispered into her hair. After all, he'd just gotten through telling her that he needed to step back and get some space from the hurt she'd inflicted.

Kate's head bobbed beneath his chin, a nod. She started to pull away, but no sooner did she retreat than he reeled her back in, maybe holding tighter than initially before.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, dwarfing her frame in the cove of his own. "It's just…"

"What?" she coaxed softly. Her nimble fingers had traveled their way up his spine, threading into the locks of hair at his neck. He was due for a haircut. Had been for a while.

"This is the first hug I've had in six years."

"Oh, Castle."

She threw herself into him then, the door falling shut behind her as her feet at last carried her back over the threshold. Castle curled into her, seeking her embrace, and she gave it eagerly. She cradled him to her body, whispering soft words to his ears, apology and reassurance both, as she gave him the comfort he so greedily sought.

"I'll be safe," he said as they parted, knowing she would worry. She wouldn't be sleeping much, not until this was over. Not until he was home safe in his own bed again and her mother's killer behind bars. He knew her. She was tireless in her crusade but, someday, maybe he would finally be able to give her the comfort he knew she, too, so desperately needed.

One day, they would make it past this. Together, as partners.

Some days later, true to her word, Richard Castle was exonerated.

She'd given him time, just as he'd asked. They hadn't spoken since that day in the warden's office, and even in the courtroom she'd only shared a smile with him some rows behind where he sat, as the biggest day in both their lives unfolded. William Bracken would be tried for murder, conspiracy, and a slew of other charges, and Castle would get to go home a free man.

Now, she stood by, watching and waiting as he took his last trip through the prison that had held him captive for so long. Six years, and she'd finally lost count of her visits to him here. It didn't matter anymore. He was innocent, free, and he was going home.

His mother was nearby. His ride home. Kate hadn't expected to be the one he'd rely on for transportation, given their prearranged code of silence, and given what she knew about his mother from his numerous stories about her, she always had a feeling anyway that Martha Rodgers would be the one to swoop in and rescue him away from "that dreadful place," as he said she'd always made a point to call it.

She didn't know his mom, had never made her acquaintance, and wasn't about to introduce herself now, but she seemed like a genuinely thoughtful and caring mother, even if she did have a flair for drama and a history of questionable activities.

She could see him through the glass doors now, walking toward the exit with Johnson by his side, the other man holding a box presumably containing all of his belongings in it. The camaraderie he'd built up with the corrections officer over the years was always something to behold, even in the darker moments of their time spent together. She knew Castle leaned on the C.O. sometimes behind bars, especially when he was at his lowest. They'd survived a prison riot together back in 2000, Johnson only being a rookie back then, and it had cemented a friendship that would last through the years. Castle didn't have many true friends on the outside, not even before his incarceration, but she knew he would still have Johnson even beyond the confines of a cell block.

The first thing she noticed when he walked through the doors was how much he filled out his old clothing now. Clad in a navy blue, v-neck t-shirt and jeans, the material was snug to his skin, hugging his body and showing off a physique that the jumpsuit had never done justice to. He was built, solid and strong. So different from the man who'd gone in, and she wondered how she'd never noticed until now.

"Oh, Richard. Oh, darling. Come here, come here!" His mother was running to him now, fast as her heels could take her, and soon she was enveloped in his arms, such a tiny thing in light of the towering man that was her only child.

He was saying something to his mom, words she couldn't make out, but she could see the tears on both their faces. Then, she could feel the one trekking down her own cheek.

"Mother, can you give me just one moment?"

She'd ducked her head to wipe her tears when his footsteps were approaching, and she didn't get the chance to look up before his palm was there, caressing her cheek, thumb gently wiping away a new tear that had freshly sprung free.

"Hey," he murmured, his eyes still shiny with tears.

She covered his hand with her own, threading her fingers between his.

"You're free," she said inanely. He smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks to you."

She shook her head, dislodging his hand, though she still kept hold of it as it dropped to his side.

"I had the proof in front of me for six years and it took me half a decade just to listen to you." She fiddled with his hand, stroking the skin along his fingers tenderly, reverently. Apologetic. "I'm sorry it took me so long to believe."

This time, he was shaking his head and taking both of her hands in his, holding them to his chest. Just over his heart.

"You know, I've had some time to think this past week. About everything I've been through, what I could or should've done. What I might've said or done differently, and whether it would have made any difference at all in the long run."

He looked down at her hands, smiling softly.

"You didn't know me then, Kate. You didn't know the kind of person I am. All you had was the evidence I was framed with, and the picture the media and the prosecutors were painting of me. You were a nineteen-year-old girl grieving her mother's death, and I didn't have any answers for you. I couldn't even prove my innocence. I had no way to comfort you, no way to offer help. I watched you spiral down that rabbit hole, and I chose to sit there and take whatever you dished out. It was a conscious decision. Sometimes I baited you, said things I knew would rile you up, not just because I was angry and frustrated myself but because there were days where I thought to myself, 'I can't do anything to save myself in here, but maybe, just maybe I can do something to save her.' If I could ease some of your pain, even if only briefly, then maybe I could find some meaning in my life trapped behind bars."

The tears were rolling in earnest now, her jaw trembling, shoulders stiff as she choked back the sobs lying deep in her chest. She shook her head back and forth, vehemently objecting to his words, his past decisions.

"No," she cried. "No, Castle. I was so awful, so cruel to you. Why would you do that?" She sobbed the words out. "You didn't owe me that. I didn't deserve - how could you? Why…?"

He stepped in close, tipping her chin up and stroking the soft skin with a reverent finger.

"Because I fell in love with you."

Her face crumpled as she dropped forward into his arms, her forehead pressed tight into his. His arms came up around her, holding her close as she sobbed, clutching at him and pulling desperately closer and closer still.

"I love you, Castle," she cried softly. "I love you."

They held to each other for a long moment before Castle pulled back, calling to his friend.

"Johnson, could you…?" he prompted, and the C.O. stepped forward with the box in his hands. As she looked on curiously, Castle reached out with a hand, rummaging briefly for a stack of mismatched paper, some college ruled, some plain white, and an arrangement of colorful construction paper or card stock, but all of which adorned with his own handwriting.

"This is for you, Kate," he told her, holding the paper between them.

"What…?" she gasped, breathless and taken aback.

"I had a lot of time on my hands in there." He gestured to the building behind him with a shoulder shrug. "And you were inspiring."

She received the gift with trembling hands, peering at the rudimentary binding, the paper tethered together with fine twine, the cover delicately bound with old, worn leather.

"It's - Well, there's no title yet. Just a rough draft. Very rough. But I wrote it, for you."

As she stared down at the gift in her hands, still not quite believing, she could hear his mother calling out to him.

"Richard. Dear, we ought get going. The traffic will be terrible heading back to the city at this hour."

"Yes, Mother," he called back. Smiling.

Kate lifted her gaze back up to the man before her. The man she loved, out from the cage that had been his life for the past six years, ready to go fly free. She felt a swirl of affection and need for him that had her reaching out, curling her fingers into his shirt, just at his side.

"Call me, when you get settled?"

"Absolutely," he promised. And then he was swooping in, dropping a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. It made her dizzy. She wanted to reel him back in, kiss him properly.

"I'll see you," he said, stepping away, and she let him go, if only because of the precious gift he'd left her with, that she now held clutched protectively against her chest.

"See you."

And then she watched him go, one last traitorous tear slipping down her cheek.

He was free. Her beautiful caged bird, caged no longer.

Later that night, after Kate Beckett had settled in for the evening, she found herself seated on her couch, a glass of wine in one hand, and a stack of papers in her lap. She hadn't touched them yet, didn't even allow herself a peek. She waited for privacy; she needed the phone to stop ringing, the day to finally wind down. No interruptions. Just her, and the book he'd given to her.

Written to her.

She took a long sip of red before flipping open the cover and turning to the first page. A dedication.

To the extraordinary KB,

In another life, think this could be our story?

I dream of the day it becomes a reality.

Always.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She wished he were there, right beside her, so that she could turn to him, embrace him, kiss him soundly and tell him that yes, yes to everything. Whatever he'd written, whatever he'd imagined for their lives, she would give it to him. Sight unseen, she was in it. A future with Richard Castle, that was all that she wanted now.

Our story.

"We'll write it together," she whispered aloud, but before she had the chance to turn to the next page, a strong knock resounded on her apartment door.

She was on her feet within seconds, striding across the distance from couch to front door because she knew. It couldn't be anyone else. Not at this hour. Not on this day.

"Castle," she breathed out, as she swung the door open.

And there he was.