A warm breeze caresses her face as she rolls over on the long grass around her, the sun's rays beating down on her body. The summer sun has made the usually cool grass a cocoon of warmth that she can't help but burrow deeper into. The grass is tall enough that she can't see anything but the blue sky when she looks up from her position on her side and the occasional yellow pop of a sunflower peeking out from the usual earthy green.

She can feel individual blades brushing up against her skin, running down her arms as the breeze makes them sway. Occasionally a few tickle her face, the grass brushing her nose or her–

Lips. She feels the wet warmth of a pair of lips on her forehead. They feather down the side of her face, pausing at her temple to press a little harder before continuing. She shifts, leaning her head towards his mouth. Mmm, Castle.

His fingers run up and down her arm, fingernails seemingly tracing the veins around her wrist. She resists the urge her eyelids have to flutter open when his breath caresses her skin, not quite awake yet and hoping to feign sleep a little longer. She can't suppress the small, contented smile though.

"Beautiful. So beautiful." He rumbles and she can tell that his face is right in front of hers. He clearly hasn't realized she is awake yet. One of his hands abandons her arm and she frowns before a finger comes to run across her bottom lip. Unable to resist, she lightly kisses the digit and she both feels and hears the soft chuckle that escapes him. He leaves his finger there, resting on her lips. She traps it between her teeth. He sighs.

Just then she feels him move, his fingers leaving her body as the bed dips. She hears him pad over to the door, bumping into something – apparently it is still dark – before she hears the click of the door opening. Then he's gone.

Her eyes open, not taking long to adjust to the darkness of the room before her brow furrows. She listens for signs that he is coming back – footsteps outside the door, him knocking into something because she could tell he hadn't turned any lights on, anything. But there is nothing. There are only the sounds of the city below them as time goes on outside of their little cocoon. She stays there for a few minutes, waiting on him to come back to her bed, before throwing back the covers and going after him.

Quietly, she opens the door and steps out. The only light in the apartment is filtering in through the windows, moonlight combined with the flashing lights of the city. The light leaves interesting patterns of light and shadow spread across her apartment, especially the isolated patches of light coming in through the spaces on her murder board. Those patches are getting bigger and bigger as the window is gradually stripped of index cards and pictures. She feels a quick pang in her chest, an acute ache that she recognizes but continues to ignore. She is doing the right thing, living her life and not reliving her past.

In the shadows of her apartment, she almost doesn't see him standing by the island in her kitchen. She doesn't like the look of it, of Castle standing completely still in the darkness. His back is turned to her, covered by a t-shirt he definitely didn't have on when he was lying in her bed. She had taken that shirt off hours ago. But even with the shirt on she can still see the muscles of his back, rigid with a tension she wishes she could somehow take from him.

She knows that he'd heard her pad into the living room and that he can probably hear her breathing in the still apartment. Yet he's made no move to turn to her, has given her no sign that he knows she's even there.

"Castle?" Nothing. "Rick?" He turns his head at that, eyes widening when he sees her standing there.

"Kate." Maybe he didn't hear her before.

"What's wrong?" She walks closer, resting her hand on his forearm when she gets close enough. He's significantly taller than her when they're both barefoot so she has to tilt her head back more than usual when looking at his eyes. It feels good. It feels natural to be looking at him in the darkness of her apartment when he's wearing only a t-shirt and his boxers and her hair is most likely frizzy and rumpled from sleep.

"It's nothing, Ka–"

"Detective, Castle." He presses his lips together, his mouth forming a thin line as he thinks. She wants to help him. She wants to help him like he's helped her and to do that she can't back down. She reaches up and runs her index finger over his lips like he'd done to hers earlier.

"I'm going to screw this up." His lips move around her finger as he says it, giving her a teasing touch of moisture. But she doesn't notice. She notices nothing but his words as they echo around the room.

"No." It just seems so obvious to her.

"No?" His eyebrows knit together and she finally removes her finger from his mouth, her hand falling back to her side as she continues to stare at him.

"If anyone is messing this up then it's going to be me." How doesn't he get this? She's damaged. She's broken. She wants to love him but doesn't know how.

"Kate," he sighs and grabs her hand, "you're trying to put your mother's murder behind you. You're trying to put yourself back together. You're working on yourself and, damn it, you're progressing. But I have a history of screwing up relationships that I have to carry around, chains that I can't find the key to. I'm gonna screw this up." She's shaking her head, squeezing his fingers so tightly that she can see them turning white.

"Doesn't mean I'm not going to screw this up, screw us up." Even though she knows there's a chance that she'll mess everything up, drive a wedge between them that she won't be able to remove, she doesn't regret it. She doesn't regret starting this with him, letting him into her life and her heart. The thought makes her smile. "But I don't regret us." She has to let him know. She has to make him see what she's come to realize: that the risk is worth it.

"Neither do I. Oh, Kate, I could never." He gives her hand a squeeze, the other coming to rest on her forearm.

"Good." The amount of conviction behind her words startles her. She didn't know how much emotion was behind that, how hurt she would've been if he'd regretted starting this thing between them even for a second. It would hurt like hell.

"But I don't know what I'd do if I lost you after knowing what it's like to have you." She understands that one. She feels the same, doesn't know how she'd go on after feeling his lips against hers or hearing the sizzling of the bacon and eggs he's cooked her for breakfast. She'd miss him so much.

"I know." She suddenly has an idea of how he must've felt that summer, losing her to her own pain after thinking he'd lost her to a gunshot. Three months. He'd just found out that she was alive and she'd locked him out for three whole months. That poor, dedicated, amazing man. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

"For what?"

"I just didn't think about you. I was only thinking about myself. I was selfish and I hurt you and I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that was like. I don't think I wanted to imagine it until now. You were hurting and confused and I just ran away. I just left–"

"Kate, what are you talking about?" She looks up at him, seeing the confusion painted on his face. She's just so sorry.

"When I was shot." She feels ashamed. She feels unworthy of this man who waited for her. She looks away.

"Oh, Kate," he runs his hands up her arms, "that's not what I meant. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad–"

"I know. But I just realized." She leans into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder as his arms encircle her body. This is how it should be. She hopes she gets to inhale his scent for a long time. She's not sure if she means at this particular moment or for years to come. She decides not to dwell on it.

"You don't have to apologize." He hauls her to his chest, pressing her firmly against him. She meant years. She knows it. She's letting herself dwell on it and it feels oddly wonderful.

"Yes, I do." She does. She should've a long time ago but now is better than never. Though not by much.

"It's okay." He presses his face into her hair and she hears him take a deep breath, inhaling her scent just like she's inhaling his. He wants years too. She knows that as well. She's known it for a long time.

"It's not okay." She murmurs the words into his skin, wrapping her arms around his waist. She feels the pull of sleep but something nags at her from the back of her brain. She can't quite tell what she's trying to tell herself, the fingers at her back a welcome distraction that makes the words hazy.

"I get it." Then it hits her. He's trying to make it seem like no big deal. She hurt him and he's letting her get away with it. No. That is not okay. She can't let him do this. She can't let him make a habit of it.

"Rick," she pulls away from his embrace, suddenly very awake, "I hurt you. You can't let me get off this easily for it."

"It's fine, Kate." His words are nonchalant, but his eyes tell her not to push. Too bad.

"No. I'm not letting you do this. You can't just let me off the hook for hurting you. You have to tell me when I hurt you, when I make a mistake. I plan on giving us the best chance we've got and I can't do that when I don't know that I'm hurting you." He steps closer to her, arms out as if he plans to hug her again, but she backs away. He's trying to distract her. She won't let him. They're having this conversation.

"Kate–"

"That's how small cuts turn into infections. That's how inconspicuous lumps turn into fatal diseases. They go undetected. They're ignored. I don't want to infect our relationship. I can't give us a disease that we can't stop the spread of." Her chest constricts, heart clenching at the thought of the silent fights and unsolvable problems down that road. She can't stop them from going down it, but she can stop herself from driving them there. And if that means making him get mad at her then so be it. At least screaming is communication.

He reaches for her again. This time she lets him engulf her, lets him wind his arms around her shoulders and pull her to his body. She feels her heartbeat slowing to a normal rate and her shoulders relaxing against his chest. Mmm, she needs him. She can't let him go. She can't drive him away.

"Say it, Castle. Say it."

"I was hurt."

Sorry this has taken so long. I was dealing with some medical issues and then the giant amount of schoolwork I had accumulated because of those medical issues. The next gap between chapters should not be anywhere as long.

Review?