Well hello and thanks for the feedback. Several of you have comments, suggestions, concerns that you will see being addressed soon :) I love it when that happens! Anyhow. This chapter is focused on Kate's perspective, and next will be from Castle's. So a lot of his reactions in this chapter will be explained next chapter when we get inside his head :) Enjoy

I have a smile stretched from ear to ear. To see you walking down the road.

We meet at the lights, I stare for awhile.

The world around us disappears.

It's just you and me on my island of hope. Breath between us could be miles.

Let me surround you, my sea to your shore. Let me be the calm you seek.

Oh, but every time I'm close to you there's too much I can't say.

And you just walk away.

And I forgot

to tell you, I love you,

And the night's too long, and cold here without you.

I grieve in my condition, for I cannot find the words to say I need you so.

-Sarah McLachlan, I love you

Rick was doing much better physically, and he was down to wearing a splint for his wrist fracture. His leg injury was much more serious, and consequently required additional time to heal. Nevertheless, soon he would begin physical therapy, and the journey back to walking again would begin.

They'd kept him in the hospital for two weeks following the day he woke, monitoring his neural scans and brainwave activity, not to mention the site of surgical incision for his head and his leg. A hospital physical therapist was brought in early in the second week at the hospital to help him get out of bed and use the muscles that he could.

They did exercises with his good arm and good leg, worked on his core as much as possible, and practiced other minimally invasive stretches. They even allowed him to work on his own with a resistance band tied to the bed. He was informed that he was going to need as much strength in his usable limbs if he was going to support his body well enough to rehabilitate.

They taught him how to maneuver himself around as best as possible, but with a broken wrist on one side of the body, and a broken leg on the other, everything was awkward. Kate made herself available when the physical therapist came to visit, learning the exercises so that she could help him practice at home.

He remained distant, but was also accepting of the fact that Kate wasn't going anywhere. Part of it had to do with the fact that he learned about her change of occupational status. Specifically, Alexis let slip that she no longer had a job. When he pressed her for details, she remained silent.

Lucky for her, the doctor and the resident psychologist had spoken with them all, informing Castle to not try to investigate too much immediately. He was reassured that retrograde amnesia was transient, and that the memories would return in a matter of time. Even as Kate heard the words she thought, not soon enough.

The problem with filling in the gaps for him, according to the psychologist, was that it could create false memories. This would make it very difficult for him to distinguish actual memories from scenarios his brain created in conjunction with what he was told; a condition called source misattribution.

If Kate were to tell him everything about their relationship, about their romance, she ran the risk of altering his memories and reducing his future confidence concerning which of his memories were real and which were fabricated by some combination of his imagination and her words. She couldn't risk him not trusting in all that happened, she loved him too much.

"Have you ever looked at a photograph from when you were very little, and your parents told you the story surrounding that photograph? You swear you can remember it, but you were only a very young child, so you're not sure if it is an actual memory, or a fabrication of truth and imagination." The doctor explained. It made sense to them and they all agreed, including Castle, to let him arrive at his own memories.

So they all went on in silence, Castle was caught in some moratorium where his memory stopped abruptly in April and left all of May and June in the dark; Beckett struggling with her feelings for him, her desire to be with him in every way.

They continued his physical therapy routine on a daily basis, the professional visiting three times a week to push him forward, while he and Beckett continued to strengthen what they could. The tension between them was thick, but as with many areas of their partnership, they worked through it toward the common goal of getting him restored to health.

She could tell he still resented her. It wasn't something that he overtly expressed though. On the contrary, he tried to be polite, even gracious. He was the Richard Castle that went to book readings, the celebrity that signed autographs half-heartedly after her three-month abandonment.

She lost her friend, her partner, and her lover, and in his place was a persona, hiding behind emotions that he didn't want to express. He was truly appreciative that she was helping him, helping his family, but under the thin veil of civility was an undercurrent of anger, hurt and disappointment.

She felt like she lost him and the ironic thing is that he's been right next to her, sleeping down the hall from her, interacting with her on a daily basis. He's been so close to her, but miles away; and with each passing day Kate could feel her heart bleeding a little more.

At some point early on after their return to the loft, what Kate couldn't have in the waking hours started to live itself out in her dreams.

The cool air of the night swirls around her as she stands on the balcony overlooking the ocean. It is peaceful here, so she came to get away from it all. Her heart has felt so heavy lately, he's so close to her, but so completely far away at the same time. Each day another piece of her heart chips away, shattering her a little bit more.

The sound of the ocean, the glow of the moonlight comforts her. All other sounds are blocked out now that she's alone in her room, on her balcony. She should have taken him up on the Hamptons offer much sooner, before all of this happened.

Suddenly there is a warm hand on her shoulder, the heat from it penetrates through the thin fabric of her nightgown and sends chills down her spine. She knows that it's him, but can't imagine why he's here.

"Kate." She places her hand on top of his, both to make contact and to prevent him from pulling away.

"Castle, I miss you. I miss you so much." She whispers mournfully, allowing herself to lean into his embrace.

"I know you do, Kate." With his words he tilts her head back and captures her lips with his own. The sweetness of it is overwhelming, and Kate can feel her heart start to ache. It's been too long since he's kissed her like this, and she needs him so badly.

"Castle, please. Take me to bed, I need to feel you." He turns her to face him before cupping her face with his palms and kissing her again, and before she knows what's happening, she's being carried to her bed.

She pulls the flimsy nightgown from her body as he removes her panties. Seconds later he's undressed too, she sighs at the feel of his body, of his warm weight pressing her into the mattress. Wrapping her arms and legs around his body, she simply holds him.

Kate wants to memorize every smell, every touch and every sound. She wants one more taste. She's desperate for it. She'd give up everything for just one more night in his arms. She moves her hands to cup his cheeks and kisses him thoroughly, her heart thrown into every move of her lips and tongue. When she pulls back she doesn't remove her hands, but holds his face to her own.

"Why won't you come back to me Castle?" She asks him desperately.

He stares at her blankly,

"Castle, I love you-please..." he looks as her as if doesn't understand her words, and then he's gone.

It was a Tuesday morning when Kate sat up in bed quickly, catching her breath and allowing the fog to clear from her brain. It was the same dream she'd been having for three weeks, since they allowed them to bring Castle home. It's the only thing that gets her through some days, being able to look forward to nights with him in her dreams.

The most recent dream was particularly intense because her senses became completely involved. She swore that she could smell him, and that the taste of his skin was still on her mouth. It left her wanting more. Kate felt as if she was stranded in the middle of the ocean, trying to survive on her little life raft while dying of dehydration with water all around her. Irony, Kate thought to herself.

Like so many other mornings these days, Kate Beckett began her routine at the loft with a cold shower, turning her attention away from fantasy and focusing on reality. It was a big week, Mid August was here and Alexis was moving into her dorm room. The girl was hesitant to leave, but was ensured by both Martha and Kate, not to mention Rick, that everyone was going to be fine.

Kate could tell that Rick was a little more reserved than usual, afterall, his baby bird was leaving the nest and it was a major adjustment. Add in the fact that he'd been through so much and anyone would understand his struggle.

That morning, as she sipped her coffee, she looked at him sympathetically, "How are you doing?" She asked with softness in her voice.

"Well, you know. It's hard." He admitted vaguely. Not wanting to talk about it, especially with the woman who rejected him, broke his heart, and then moved into his loft out of some sense of obligation; so he changed the subject and directed a question at her.

"How are you this morning? I heard you again last night." She shot her head up at him, alarmed by his statement.

"I'm sorry? You heard what?" She asked, afraid of what she'd given away in her dreams. What if I was screaming his name?

"You were moaning. It sounded…sad. I've heard you a few times, actually. Nightmares?" He asked her.

Tears threatened to fall as she held back, trying to get a grip on her emotions as she processed the information, he heard me crying for him.

"Yeah," she whispered somewhat brokenly, "nightmares."

It was the second close call that Kate had experienced since they'd returned. Although she had to admit that hearing her moans was substantially less terrifying and embarrassing than the last near-miss.

She parked his wheelchair by his bed and offered herself as support as he balanced himself on his good leg and pivoted himself into bed. She made him completely comfortable, with his remote, a beverage and snacks to keep him occupied.

Kate had been a little paranoid that he would become suspicious when he returned to his room for the first time. Part of it was just projection, she felt the tension and the energy in the room so intensely that she was sure he had to feel it too. The other fear was less subjective and more realistic.

Although most of their nights together were at her apartment, they had done their fair share of love-making in his bedroom. She was worried that he would become suspicious if the room smelled like her, like them. She reasoned that it could be good if it caused him to remember, but bad if it just made him confused and suspicious.

Regardless, he didn't seem to have any questions or suspicions. In fact, he made a little "welcome to my bedroom" joke when she took him back there, he thinking it was her first time. She wasn't anticipating what happened when Rick dropped the remote control on the floor, reached for it under the bed with his good hand, and came back up with a certain black and lacy article of clothing.

Kate panicked as she remembered, shit! My panties. They were left here and I couldn't find them, Damnit. She tried to plaster on a poker face, acting as if she didn't notice his discovery as she made her way from his room and left him confused, unknowingly holding evidence of their most recent sexual encounter.

The first time she'd allowed him to believe a lie came during the second week back at the loft. To tell him to truth would be overwhelmingly complicated and she didn't know what her options were. So she went with silence, and avoided it when he asked for details.

"You don't have to stick around, taking care of a cripple can't be on the top of your list of ways to spend your time Beckett." He prompted her from his wheel chair.

"Castle, really, it's ok. I want to be here. If I had been faster, or closer then maybe you wouldn't be in this situation." She spoke guiltily, finding blame to place on herself.

"Were we working on a case?" he questioned, obviously returning to the mystery of why she was no longer a detective. The only people in the world who knew what really happened had been sworn to secrecy, so Castle was completely confounded.

"Um, no-we weren't." She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. He nodded at her, but continued to have a puzzled expression on his face.

"So, did you take time off? Because you don't need to do that, I'm fine now." He tried to persuade her.

"Castle, I didn't take any time off. I um, I really don't work for the NYPD anymore at all." She averted her gaze. She couldn't tell him the truth, about the sniper, that she knew he was investigating her mother's case, about her decision to walk away from her job and into his arms.

His face fell in utter shock. "What? Why? Kate, please tell me, what happened?" He questioned, genuine concern in his voice.

"Castle…it just didn't work out, ok?" She left it at that, refusing to answer more questions.

He let it go for the evening, but brought it up again after his next physical therapy appointment.

"Kate, I just really want to thank you for being here for me. I know that you don't have to, and I just…" He hesitated, rubbing his face with his hands as he tried to collect his thoughts, "I just wanted you to know that I think I know what happened, and I can't express to you how sorry I am. I remember what happened."

For a moment Kate was hopeful, she lost the ability to breathe as she listened and could feel the excitement building up within her, waiting for him to reveal that he somehow knew that they were so much more than partners. She wanted to launch herself at him and kiss his lips until air became too essential to continue. However, his words left her confused. "Wha…what?" she asked.

"Kate. I remember what happened with the Slaughter case. I recall what you did, getting involved. The chief of detectives, he came down on you, right? You were willing to give it all up for me, and I'm so sorry it cost you everything." He looked at her with sorrow on his face.

"Yes. Um, I mean no. It…" She sighed and before she knew what she was doing, she brushed her fingers through his hair, "it didn't cost me everything Rick." His eyes widened as their gazes locked, electricity seeming to flow from the point where her fingertips made contact with his skin. He placed his fingers on top of hers and closed his eyes. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes again, surprise and confusion in his face.

Catching herself, she adjusted and pulled away from him, "I mean… just don't worry about it Castle."

Oh, and every time I'm close to you there's too much I can't say. And you just walk away.

And I forgot

to tell you I love you,

and the night's too long, and cold here without you.

I grieve my condition, for I cannot find the words to say, I need you so.

Kate struggled quite a bit with herself, it was difficult to not ghost a touch across his back or arms, to much for her to walk away from inhaling his scent, and above all else she wanted to tell him to not worry because she hadn't done anything she'd regretted, she walked away from her job so that she could have a life with him. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about. But, damn it was hard to think when he was there and he smelled like him and made her whimper with need to be with him, to love him.

One such conversation that she was thinking of broaching was setting up a similar situation so that the information could come out. Namely, if she were to ask how he copes with not remembering, surely it might prompt him to ask her. Then she could be honest about therapy, it would at least help him to heal. Maybe it will help him figure things out. She knew she was playing with fire, but the burn would be worth it.

So there she was, sitting at the table in the loft sipping a hot cup of tea. She'd been there for hours, twisting the spoon into the liquid long since the steam had left. Kate was preoccupied with Castle's behavior, his hesitation, his closed-off exterior to her now. The fact was that she knew why he was upset, and she knew what it would require to at least get them back to friends again. He would need to ask her about forgetting about her own amnesia. As he did in the hospital during their zombie case.

This would enable her to share with him, once again that she is in therapy, perhaps she could repair their relationship to at least a friendship until he remembers it all. Kate was desperate for any part of him, so she was going to try it. She just needed him to listen.

Oh, and every time I'm close to you there's too much I can't say. And you just walk away.

And I forgot

to tell you I love you,

and the night's too long, and cold here without you.

I grieve my condition, for I cannot find the words to say, I need you so.