A/N:

You guys are the best! Thanks so much for all of your kind words and alerts. I love reading them and they totally make me smile. Here's Chapter 12. I found it one of the hardest to write and hope that it turned out to be something you'll enjoy reading.

Chapter 12

"I'm so sorry Kate."

Rick Castle was not someone who made a habit of apologizing. Aside from those that involved Alexis, there were few things the novelist took seriously enough to bother. He preferred letting his actions fix any mistakes rather than waste time uttering empty apologies. Of course, that was before.

Since worming his way into the life of Kate Beckett he finds himself saying sorry quite a bit. At times it's merely the easiest way to get out of trouble but more often than not he says it to her because he truly means it. Only once has he meant it more than he does tonight. Sitting here he could no longer resist the overwhelming urge to say those words. He is sorry. Sorry that, no matter what he or anyone else ever does, Kate will always carry this heartache. That reality tugs his heart in a way only Alexis' pain ever has. His sadness serving as one more reminder as to why Kate's name is on a very short list of people he tries never to disappoint. Those same people are ones he would do anything for to make happy.

The pity she hears in Castle's words rips Kate from the comfort she'd found only moments before. That voice that brightens so many of her days now makes her want to disappear. As a familiar shame rises within her, she wants nothing more than to escape to a place where she can pretend that Rick Castle still sees her as extraordinary.

Sometimes she wishes he'd never said the word. Extraordinary. One word that changed so much. The first time he used it to describe her she was speechless. Shocked that he said it and, possibly even more so, that she dared to believe him. The cop in her could spot a line a mile away and mystery writer man had thrown plenty her way. Somehow, though, Kate knew that moment was different. Castle's words, never lacking passion, were full of more sincerity than she'd ever heard from him. Whatever lingering doubt she may have had vanished when she saw the word 'extraordinary' next to her initials in his book dedication. Reading it took her breath away. That she meant something to Castle beyond a character in a book mattered more to her than she would have liked.

Castle may have been the first to call her extraordinary but not the first to pity her. No, pity she has seen many times. It painted the faces and corrupted the words of a long line of friends, colleagues and boyfriends. It amazed her that, no matter who it came from, the pity always looked the same. The first wave appeared when they found out about her mom's murder. That was the easiest to take. The one she allowed. It was the subsequent waves that were the worst. Kate learned long ago that once the pity resurfaces, it changes everything. Attacking like a virus, it invades every aspect of those relationships until it's either all that's left or becomes the only thing that Kate can see. Within the comfort of her closest circle she has always been safe from that pity. Until tonight.

"I don't want your pity Castle."

There's no mistaking the anger in her voice. As she sits up a little straighter, he can practically see her reconstructing the virtual fortress around her brick by painful brick. He should have known she would find pity where none existed. Instead of being discouraged, though, he is emboldened. For the first time since Kate walked away from him in that hospital hallway, Castle isn't scared to push her. Sure, he's nudged her but he'd been terrified to really push for fear that their relationship was too fragile to withstand it. He was wrong. She's still Beckett. They're still partners. He can keep pushing until she either starts talking or yelling at him but she won't break. This time they're strong enough that she will not walk away. Neither will he.

"Kate, you know that's not what I meant."

Shaking her head, Kate squeezes her knees up to her chest. The man whose face is splashed all over Page Six was never supposed to be this guy. Rick Castle, the cocky writer, is only supposed to care about himself. His greatest worry should be how many different models he can wine and dine in a week and get into his bed. He's supposed to be the writer whose concern for his latest muse lasts only as long as it takes to write a decent book or to accept that this detective won't ever be ending up in his bed.

No, Rick Castle was never supposed to be this guy. Patiently waiting in a drab hospital room, jumping through hoops trying to make his stubborn partner feel better. The one more concerned about his friend's wellbeing than his muse's secrets. He was never supposed to be the guy she depends on. Kate always knew it was safer the other way.

"Looks like you finally know the truth Castle. Your muse is apparently much more broken than you ever gave her credit for."

Castle cringes as the memory of that day comes crashing back. He sat across the table from her as they sorted through fan mail. Not looking at Beckett was driving him crazy so he split his time between reading and stealing glances at her. Then, in typical Rick Castle fashion, he set out to prove to the smart detective just how clever he was. He masterfully spun her story, the flash of pain in her eyes and her defiant retort confirming that he was right. That he'd won and rattled Beckett in the process made it easy for him to brush off her discomfort. All that mattered was that he had gained the upper hand in the little game he created for them. They've come a long way since that day. Never again can he imagine ignoring her pain.

"You're not broken Kate."

As much as she may feel like she is, Kate knows Castle's right. She's tired, stubborn but not broken. She's carried the weight of her guilt, her what might have beens around for so long that she almost forgot how heavy they truly were when she insisted on bearing them alone. For years, her burdens were lessened by the smallest bit of peace she brought to others. Each solved case restoring a small piece of herself. Castle gives her back tiny pieces of herself too. Some that she believed were gone forever, some she had forgotten that she ever had at all. Here he is trying to give her back one more. Trying to share her burden again as a trusted friend does. This time, though, she's too stubborn to let him.

"This isn't some chapter you're writing Castle. You have no idea. You never have"

In spite of the seriousness of her words, the surrender in her voice reveals her bluff. She'd rather push him away, pretend that none of this happened. They've been through too much for him to do that. Whether she will admit it to herself or anyone else he knows her. He always has.

Being with her tonight, though, he understands so much more. Finally, he sees the Kate Beckett so carefully protected in the center of the onion. The one that threatened to slip out when he told her what he'd found about her mom's case. Suddenly, it's clear to him why the detective who stands strong against every challenge had to walk away. He always thought it was driven by her anger at him but now he realizes there was more. It was pure self-preservation. It was what Kate needed to do to move forward. All those times he's heard her talk to victims' families about moving forward he never truly understood what those words meant. A person who's moved forward tucks away their regrets so they feel lighter but they're always with them. They carry them around pretending they are much deeper below the surface than they actually are. The reality is they're always conscious of the inevitability that one day those old scabs will become picked over and start bleeding again. Kate is one of the strongest people he knows yet it amazes him that until tonight he had no idea how strong she really was. He won't let her down.

"For a cop, you're a terrible liar. I do know you Kate. I know that you're glad I'm here even though it feels like torture. I know that while you would be the last person to judge anyone in your situation, you are beating yourself up for some weakness that does not exist. We both know that I understand more of what's under the layers of what you so aptly call the Beckett Onion than most people. I also know that while part of you still believes the only reason I stick around is Nikki Heat, a much larger part knows that's not true at all."

Kate feels like someone threw a bucket of cold water on her. Castle's tone, a sharp edge replacing its usual lightness, is one he only uses to declare something nonnegotiable. That he expects to get his way which in this case would be her cooperation. Because Castle uses it sparingly, more often than not, she acquiesces when she hears it. It's his way of telling her something is important to him. She's never hated that tone more.

"Castle, I want…"

Running out of patience, Castle cuts her off, "I think you're so exhausted that you're not sure what you really want and it's easier to fight with me than to deal with what's going on in your head."

Castle waits for Kate to either start yelling or turn around and smack him. When neither happens he continues, "It's okay to stop fighting Kate. It's okay to be tired. It's okay."

Biting her lip to hold back her tears Kate doesn't have to look at Castle to know that there's no pity on his face. She's almost positive that there is only determination. Even now, it's one of her favorite things about him.

"C'mon Kate, lay down and try to get some rest."

She lays down without turning to face him sure her tears will break free as soon as their eyes meet. With the siderail as her lifeline, Kate digs her fingernails into the skin of her hand. Her mind runs through the dream, the night, everything trying to assemble her tattered emotions like evidence in a case. She knows it won't work. It's a near impossible task yet she can't stop herself. If nothing else it makes her feel like she's doing something.

From his spot on the bed, Castle's relieved to see her face again. Eyes closed, Kate's lips move the same as they do when she's stumped staring at the murder board or making herself concentrate to finish paperwork. He's passed countless hours as a consultant watching her do this. Just like there, barely any sound comes out. Such a quirky habit for someone usually so restrained. He wonders what exactly she's trying to figure out.

Castle makes himself comfortable next to her once again. As Lanie's words pushy and persistent ring in his head, he rests his hand on her arm. Kate tenses but, to his relief, she doesn't move away.

"Kate, whatever you saw in your dreams, it's not real. None of that is real. You know what's real? You here with me. Us. This time tomorrow you'll be home in your own bed. I could even come share it with you if you want."

As Castle squeezes Kate's arm to reassure her, he swears he hears the faintest chuckle break through the tears she's doing a terrible job trying to hide. Feeling her tremble, Castle tucks the blanket around her a little tighter.

He can feel the awkwardness between them disappearing the longer they lay there. The comfortable silence interrupted only by Kate's occasional sniffle. Castle keeps his hand on her arm hoping it helps her remember that no matter how lonely she feels she is not alone.

Loosening her grip on the railing, Kate wraps her fingers in the blanket. Amazed that Castle has succeeded in making her feel safe again. Seems all it takes is a touch, a word, a look and he reassures her even when she does her best to push him away. She has no idea how he manages to do it or why it makes her feel that way. All she knows is that she's very grateful that he does.

"I hate this."

Kate's voice, barely a whisper, makes him want to wrap his arms around her until she doesn't hurt anymore. He resists the urge to again tell her he's sorry, not willing to risk her thinking it's pity for a second time. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything tonight has shot another hole in his already porous theory of why, someday, the two of them can't be more than friends.

"I know Kate. I know."

"I see her. My mom. We talk. It's so nice." She pauses letting the tears roll down her cheeks, "She looks exactly like I remember."

Afraid of spooking her, Castle stays silent. For all his pushing and probing, it's always when he least expects it that Kate shares a very private piece of herself. Each time she does he feels privileged that she trusts him that much more.

From the moment she knew Castle planned on staying, she had vowed that she would not tell him about her dreams. That they would remain private. Laying here, it's a vow that she has no desire to uphold. It's too overwhelming for her to keep them inside anymore.

"Then…her blood… I have her blood all over me."

Sliding his hand beneath the blanket, Castle rubs his fingers up and down her arm trying to reassure her. He knows the more she talks about it, the less it will be swirling around that beautiful head of hers.

"She thinks I gave up. That I chose this life over finding her killer. That I betrayed her."

Castle pulls Kate closer to him as tears come crashing through those walls of hers, "Kate your mother would want you to be happy. She would understand why you couldn't keep looking. It was just a dream Kate."

"But what if.."

"No. No more what ifs. Not now."

"It feels the same. Like that night. Like that night they told us."

For all the things she's told Castle he doesn't understand, this is the one she never will. She has no idea how it's possible to feel that same horror she felt so long ago. How those feelings still have the power to completely overwhelm her. Before that night she's sure she never knew real heartbreak. Just as ever since, she wonders if she'll ever again feel true joy.

"Kate…"

Realizing there's no point, Castle doesn't bother finishing. Nothing he can say will take away the memory that's so deeply burned into her brain. All he can do is wait as she tries to reign in her tears.

"I'm glad you're here."

Closing her eyes, the words slip out before she can overanalyze them. For once, she doesn't care that she may have said too much. She needs Castle and she's too tired, too defeated to deny it any more tonight.

Castle's not expecting her admission or that she lets her body relax against him. He squeezes her arm as a genuine smile returns to his face for the first time since her screams woke him.

"I'll always be here Kate."

A/N:

Thanks for reading! We're in the home stretch…only 2 or 3 chapters left for this fic.