A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming support this story has recieved! It means more than I can say. Special thanks to Jo for the beta. Just so you know, since some of you were asking, this chapter is a little different in style, then there's one more before things will begin to move.

Dear Kate,

As an author, and specifically one who writes murder mysteries, I've had to do a fair amount of study on the human psyche. This means, amongst other things, I am well versed in the stages of grief. You will forgive me, then, if you allow me to be angry today.

Because I'm damn angry.

The worst part is, I can't figure out if I'm angry at you or at me.

So I didn't have an answer for you. What kind of life partner does that make me?

So I didn't have an answer for you. I thought we were figuring it out together.

I found myself staring at my phone just now, wondering what would happen if I just called you. If I came over to your apartment. If I showed up at the precinct with two cups of coffee and my heart on my sleeve.

Is giving you space really the right thing to be doing right now? But you're a person who needs your space. I understand that now. And I'm trying to respect that, to show I respect you.

Besides, I followed you for years, and even that wasn't enough to keep you.

Sorry. That was bitter.

I guess I just can't make sense of why this happened, and at the same time, I'm sitting here typing into a computer all the things I wish I could say to you, on this document that you're never going to see, and not calling you up and saying them to your face.

That's always been our problem, hasn't it? We know each other so well, so we make assumptions that turn out to be completely wrong. And I think maybe we're both cowards- and I say that even while acknowledging that you're the bravest person I've ever met, and I'm the most stupidly incautious. But when it comes to matters of the heart, we're both cowards, Kate.

I'm too scared of your reception to pick up the damn phone.

You're too scared of risking your heart irrevocably and being left heartbroken. One foot out the door- I should have noticed it. It's your MO, after all.

I can't help feeling like something specific scared you off this time. Was it one of my ex-wives? You talked to Gina, didn't you?Or Meredith? Something happened, I know it. Something made you question.

Or were you really just that miserable? Was I that inattentive? Because I know I wasn't always the best I could be! But you didn't seem overly interested in waiting me out.

I want to pick up the phone, Kate. I want to go on up next time my run takes me past your place- like it seems to do every single day.

I can't, though. I couldn't handle yet another rejection from you. And that makes me a chicken.

It makes me unworthy of you.

Who am I kidding? I've never been worthy of you.

And now I'm slinking down into the depths of despair, and that's something I swore I wouldn't do again, so I shall sign off for now.

Kate? I love you. In spite of my cowardice. In spite of whatever is going on with you that I don't understand. In spite of everything.

Always.

-Castle.

Dear Kate,

I dreamed of us last night. I dreamed of the touch of your skin, the way you arch against me when I find that spot with my mouth- you know the one. Your scent was surrounding me, and you were making those little sounds at the back of your throat, the ones you make when I'm taking my time with you and driving you to distraction, and you're seconds away from flipping me on my back and having your wicked way with me.

I love it when you do that.

I love it when you choose not to. When you let me drive you wild, and I get to build you up slowly, bit by bit, teasing you and loving you and winding you up, leaving you dangling on the precipice of desire until you break apart beneath me, around me, with wave after wave of pleasure.

In my dream last night, you got impatient with my torment, rising above me like a goddess and taking me with you as you surrounded me.

I woke up gasping for breath and aching with need, and you weren't there.

Why did I do this to us, Kate? Why was I too scared to stand up for what I want- for what we could have had?

Your scent no longer lingers around my room. I don't have to dodge razor sharp heels when I stumble to the bathroom first thing in the morning. There are no longer a million kinds of make up scattered across the edge of the sink from early morning calls when you were in too much of a rush to put them away properly.

You know how it used to drive me crazy when you hung a towel over Boba Fett's head so he wouldn't be "staring" at you while you were getting dressed? The last towel you flung at him hasn't been moved. I can't bring myself to do it, even though it annoys me when I see it there, because you should be here for me to grumble at when I do it. And then you could laugh at me and call me a baby and kiss me, or huff and roll your eyes and ignore me- I can never predict what reaction I'm going to get from you.

You need to be here so I can find out.

You'd probably roll your eyes at this point, tell me I'm pathetic. I know I am, but you know what, Kate? I'm kind of proud of the fact that I'm being pathetic. You don't want to hear this, but you'll probably never read this anyway- every other break up I've ever been through, I've dealt with it through wine and women. You probably remember the Jacinda debacle. That was fairly typical- only, in that particular case, it didn't work.

She wasn't you.

And no matter how much I hated you in that moment for leading me on when you didn't care at all (or so I thought then) I couldn't forget you for an instant. And I discovered fake and blonde and uncomplicated wasn't enough for me any more.

You've changed me, Kate. You've made me a better man. So you need to know that I'm not even trying to go down that route this time. I don't want anyone else, because every other woman is a poor imitation.

I want to marry you, Kate.

If I were to pursue someone else while we're not "together", even on the rebound, I would feel like I was cheating on you.

You've ruined me for anyone else, and I'm so deeply thankful for that.

I'm a better person, because of you.

So yes, I'm lonely and morose right now, and I don't see that lifting any time soon especially with both Mother and Alexis gone for weeks on end, but I really am ok with that. Because I would rather be here missing you than out there finding a cheap substitute.

You're irreplaceable, Kate. I hope you know that.

I would rather wake up to an empty bed and the ghost of you every morning for the rest of my life than waste one night on anyone else.

I love you, Kate.

-Castle

My darling Kate,

It sounds kind of weird to call you that 'out loud'. You've never really been an endearment kind of person, which I kind of love, to be honest, but you should know that I use endearments for you a lot inside my mind. You truly are dear to me.

I miss you.

It's so quiet around the loft now. Mother and Alexis are both on their vacations, and while I'm thankful for the reprieve from Mother, I do miss Alexis a lot.

I can't believe how grown up my baby girl is.

I was so scared when I found out Meredith was pregnant. She was only ever meant to be one in the long line of starlets and celebutantes I was forgetting Kyra with. It was never meant to be a serious thing- after all, this is Meredith we're talking about. But I loved Alexis from the moment I found out she existed, and I married Meredith because I wanted to guarantee my place in my child's life. I try so hard to not criticize her in front of anyone, but it got to the point where that meant choosing not to see her shortcomings in order to make it work.

I guess I loved her. Not like I loved Kyra, which is all I had to compare it to at the time. Certainly not the way I love you. But there was a rush that came with being with Meredith, like being on a roller coaster- only eventually the rush no longer sustains you, and you begin to long to be stationary again.

To be honest, I'm not even sure she noticed. I spent so much emotional energy on that woman, but it was never returned. It was such a one-way relationship- I tried so hard to get to know her, to keep her happy, because I needed stability for Alexis- but she was never truly interested in knowing me. Oh, she would ask prying questions from time to time, when it occurred to her, but I could tell she was never really interested in the responses- or if she was, it was so that she could throw it back at me in an argument or use it to manipulate me into letting her have her way. Maybe it's my fault that we drifted apart, but the truth is- there was only so much I could do to save us, and Meredith simply didn't care to put in the work.

Then she had an affair with her director. Did I ever tell you I walked in on them? I had a meeting with my publisher, and when I got home, Alexis was playing in the living room and I could hear them in the bedroom. They weren't exactly being quiet. We had an ungodly fight when I interrupted them. The next time I heard from her was when I got the divorce papers in the mail with a Florida postmark.

Maybe that's why I reacted so badly when you said Vaughn kissed you. That must be why I withdrew. Huh.

I'll never forget the way Alexis would ask where Mommy was every night as I was putting her to bed. The sadness in those beautiful blue eyes crippled me, Kate. My baby girl didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to hear her parents fight like that.

What does it say about her chances of a good upbringing when I was the more stable one of her parents? And yet she was so much the opposite of both Meredith and me as she was growing up. She was such a good kid. I barely had to punish her when she was small because she reacted so strongly to my disapproval that frankly it was rarely an issue. I think she gets at least a little of that from me.

Sometimes I wonder if my two divorces are going to send her into therapy as an adult. That's a tough thing to live through as a kid. I'm honestly surprised sometimes that she didn't go into full rebellion the moment she turned 14. What did I do to deserve such a great kid?

My one regret, though, is that I never got to give her any siblings. I know it's not too late, technically, but I always wanted her to have someone to play with, to grow up with. To not be alone so much, like I was. But Meredith didn't want another, and Gina wasn't interested in children, and in the end, I guess I took on the role of big brother as much as father, just so that she had someone to play with, like I never did.

That's nothing against Mother, mind you. She did her best. It seemed, though, like she either had time or she had money. Being a single parent in the 70s and 80s wasn't easy. Having a rambunctious child like me can't have helped, either. She made do, though. She did her best.

I guess I just didn't want Alexis to do without, like we had to as I was growing up.

And even though Alexis is older now, I still had some small measure of hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd get a chance to give her a baby brother or sister some day. Maybe both. Who knows?

And yeah, for the last few years, when I closed my eyes and pictured that happening, the mother of those babies? In my mind's eye, that was you.

No wonder you ran away. I would, too, if someone was picturing having babies with me. It's a little full on, and you never gave me any indication that you were ever even considering the possibility.

Except at the end, so out of the blue that I wasn't able to form a complete sentence.

I'm sorry. Really, I don't blame you.

I'm not even sure why I told you most of this, except… well, it's occurred to me that you don't know a lot of this stuff. I guess we figured we knew each other so well once we got together that we never tried getting to know each other. Maybe we should have, at least as lovers instead of just best friends.

I thought I knew you. I thought you knew me. Now, though, with the magic of hind sight, I'm wondering if that was really true. We left so much unsaid, and worked with so much subtext, that simple getting to know you stories like why things didn't work with Meredith, and just how amazing Alexis is to have turned out to be such a smart, beautiful, sophisticated, caring young lady in spite of her upbringing- we never talked about any of it. Which makes me kind of sad, actually.

I want to know your heart, Kate. Not just think I know it- look where that got us. No, I want to truly know it, and I want you to know mine. If that means I have to confess the sins of my past to you, then I'm willing to do that. I don't care how humbling or humiliating- I will do anything to be worthy of you again.

I love you, Kate. All the pieces of you- the ugly, the cracked, the broken. My dream is that one day we'll get past this, and you'll love me the same.

Or not even the same, because you love differently to me. I know that. Sometimes I wonder if you love deeper, and that's why you're so guarded about it. Point is, I hope one day I have the opportunity to show you the broken pieces of me, and should that day ever come, I hope you choose to love me in spite of them. For them, even.

That's how I love you, Kate. Always.

-Castle

Dear Kate,

There's a pigeon on the window ledge.

It's obviously fairly well fed, and I'm guessing he has a nest somewhere nearby he's building with his beloved, but right now, he's just hanging out and keeping me company for a moment.

I'm calling him Pete.

No, I'm not crazy, naming a random pigeon. Sometimes I just inexplicably know a character's name, and their back stories. Not that any of them would ever make it into a book, mind you, but making up stories is, after all, what I do.

Only some days, I have no words. There are a million things I want to say to you, but I feel like there's nothing left inside of me to express them. I want to tell you silly, mundane little things that happened throughout my day. Things like "We need to buy milk" and "I've just thought of a great gag gift for Espo's birthday" and "Do you remember where I put the scissors?"

It all sounds so trivial, so unromantic, but Kate, those are the building blocks of a life together. I wonder if there's really a deeper intimacy in words like that than there are in grand gestures and "Take my clothes off" and "I want to be inside you". I know, I know, they don't sound romantic. They're probably not. It's probably just another one of my silly, fanciful notions that would have you rolling your eyes at me, but Kate, those were the things that meant the most to me. Because it meant that our lives were so inextricably intertwined that even the most basic, mundane, daily items on the to-do list are each others business- and life simply doesn't contain the same level of joy without you there to share those everyday things with.

I don't know if that even makes sense- if any of these letters do. Without you, though, my words are meaningless, so I need to keep including you in what I write. The curse of being a writer in love with his muse.

Not that being in love with you is like a curse. Even now, it's still the best thing that ever happened to me, aside from Alexis.

So I hope you'll forgive all these ramblings that you'll never even get to read. I hope you'll forgive me for repeating myself. For yelling at you. For falling into the depths of despair. For telling you about Pete the Pigeon.

I just... miss you.

And every single piece of emotion here is a reflection of that.

Do you think we'll ever sort this out? That we'll meet again at, say, the Ryan's baby shower and just hit it right off again? Maybe start over?

I don't care if I have to wait another four years, Kate. I've done it before, and now that I know what that fifth year is like- how beautiful we are together- I know it's worth the wait. You are worth the wait. And if I somehow need to prove my faithfulness to you, so be it.

Of course, you might meet the next Dr Motorcycle Boy and get married and have a brood of baby superheroes. Is it bad that the thought makes me physically ill?

I can't help it, I guess. I love you. And I'm selfish enough to want you to be with me, not someone else- no matter how deserving. But would he make you happy, Kate? Truly? Because if he truly did, I like to think I'd eventually be ok with that, because ultimately your happiness is the most important thing, but...

...I can't help hoping that in spite of everything, you'd be happiest with me.

After all, I know I'm happiest with you.

I love you, Kate.

-Castle

Dear Kate,

I was sorry to wake up this morning, because I had another one of those dreams last night. You know, the kind that reeks of memory and truth, to the point where it feels so real that waking up is genuinely startling, and more than a little disappointing.

It got me thinking, though. What's the hottest thing about Kate Beckett?

Your eyes? I- honestly, Kate, have I ever told you that you have gorgeous eyes? They're so fathomless and alluring and expressive. I could stare into them all day. They tell so much of your story, yet they hide the rest in the mystery that is so uniquely you, I could spend the rest of my life staring into them and still not discover their secrets. Their depth. I love the way they change color depending on the lighting and what you wear and what you're feeling. I'm pretty sure they were the first thing I noticed about you, and they haunt me, Kate. You haunt me.

I'd rather be haunted by you than any spirit.

Then there's your smile. The way it lights up your eyes (yes, I'm stuck on your eyes) and the way that you quirk your lips to keep it from spilling out- only it does anyway. That mouth of yours is sinful. Seriously, do you know what it does to me when you bite your lip and let your eyes stray down to my mouth? Derails my ability to function every time. Sometimes I think you do it just to watch me stutter.

What was I talking about?

Oh, right, your mouth. Your lips simply beg me to taste them. Your tongue is wicked and clever and devious and delicious, and I adore it.

Your throat calls out to me sometimes. I itch to taste it, to hear you moan as I feel your life pulsing beneath my lips.

Your collarbones are delectable. One of my favorite things to nibble on.

Your breasts are amazing. Seriously amazing. The way they fill my palm, the way your nipple peaks under my tongue. Your scar, nestled between them. Our scar. You'll probably think I'm a caveman or something, but Kate, I love that that scar belongs to us. I love that no other man has seen it, because its history is sacred. Just as it physically ripped you apart and you had to fight through the healing process, that bullet also ripped us apart, yet once we were able to heal, we were stronger because of it. I think it's one of the most beautiful parts of you, because it's a testament to your tenacity, to your ability to survive and overcome. You seriously have no idea how hot you are.

Then there are your legs. Those endless, endless legs. And where they meet your back. That whole region. I just… is it just me, or is it getting warm in here? And don't think for one moment you don't know how much I appreciate those legs of yours. You used to wear leggings to bed; now you wear those tiny little shorts that drive me to distraction.

Do you have any idea how infuriating you are? What a tease you can be? You turn me inside out, and I love it. I love that I never know what you're going to do next. I killed off Derek Storm because he was predictable; you inspired Nikki Heat because of your passion- that life force that rises inside you like a tidal wave begging for release, and there is nothing greater in all of this life than the feeling of being the target of the force of the essence of you.

You're the strongest person I know. You've battled through so much- it makes me angry just how much, because you don't deserve any of it. You're the kindest, most tender hearted, beautiful, extraordinary person I've ever met, and in spite of every adversity life has thrown at you, you've never let any of it touch the core integrity of who you are.

You make me want to be a better person. I know, I know, it's cliché, but it's still true. Not just on the surface, though. Knowing you has changed me for the better. You challenge me to think about the truth and the heart of a situation- to remember that even though a mystery may be cool and intriguing, at the end of the day there are victims and we- you- help them. You honor the dead and bring answers and closure to the living- not just because it's your job, but because you know- yet you choose to use that awful, awful knowledge to help others in their time of grief.

I know I joke about you being a superhero, but honestly, Kate- is there anything you can't do? You're amazing. You're smart. You're hot. You're compassionate. You're driven.

Remarkable and extraordinary don't even begin to cover how incredible you are. I wish I had the words for it.

It makes me wonder why you ever chose me in the first place. Know this, though: my words are yours. My heart is yours, always. You will never not inspire me, even if this awful summer of separation continues for the rest of our lives. What we had was a once-in-a-lifetime love, and there is no going back from that. Trust me, before you I looked, and without you it doesn't exist.

I wonder what would happen, say, ten years down the track. You've met the next Vaughn- it would have to be someone of that caliber to deserve you- and you're happily married and have everything you've ever dreamed of, and you wander into a bookstore and find my latest on display, and open to the dedication. I wonder what that dedication would read?

"To Kate,

Every word is yours, always.

Be happy. Be blessed. Know that you're loved.

-RC"

I hope your hypothetical husband reads it, too. I hope it reminds him not to take you for granted. That you deserve the very, very best- even if that's not me. I hope he loves you the way you deserve to be loved. The way I tried to love you.

The way I failed to love you.

I promised myself I wouldn't be morose in this letter. It's meant to be about how amazing you are, not how I'm doing without you. Just… know that I love you, Kate. You were never just a passing fancy. You've always been so much more than that.

With love,

-Castle

Dear Kate,

You remember how a few weeks before we broke up, during the bomb case, we were arguing over who fell for whom first? This is me caving.

I'll never pretend I didn't find you attractive right from the start. You have no idea how delectable you are when you're annoyed. I love your reactions- pulling your ponytails, you once called it. You just have this energy about you, and when you're cranky it gets so much more intense.

Then you told me about what happened to your Mom, and why you became a cop. Honestly? Looking back, I wonder if that was when I started. I didn't recognize it at the time, so it's hard to tell.

Then we became friends. You began to actually appreciate my input. You told me you liked having me around, in spite of my blunders and bumblings.

Then your apartment blew up.

Oh, Kate, you have no idea what I went through, knowing it was going to happen. Seeing it happen. Truly believing, as I stood across the street, that you were dead- because of me. Because a deranged fan had fixated on the books I wrote, based on you.

I knew then that I was in love with you.

And then Demming happened, and Gina, and Josh. We became best friends. But I wanted you to know that I was in love with you before all that. And when the case with the bomb at the Wall St protest happened and you told that kid in interrogation that you remembered being shot, I tried so hard to stop. I thought you didn't care, that you never would, and so I tried every way I knew how to stop loving you. It turns out you were already rooted to deep in my heart. You had entwined yourself with my DNA, and I couldn't stop.

And then you came to my door that night after our awful fight during the Maddox case. You were shivering from the cold, drenched to the skin, battered and bruised, but Kate- you've never been so beautiful to me.

Then came the best year of my life. The year my partner, my best friend became my lover.

I can't remember the last time I had a best friend.

Even in school. Damian Westlake, maybe, but there was a certain amount of hero worship attached there. It was one sided- I was never his best friend. We were never equal, not really. Kyra, maybe. I don't know now- that relationship was so long ago, so fraught with complications, so tainted by history now.

Alexis, I guess. Before I came to the Twelfth, she was the only person I truly never pretended around. Maybe that wasn't good for her, being on such an equal footing with her parent. I don't know. I did my best with her, and I loved her- love her- with all my heart.

In front of everyone else, I was Rick Castle, the author. It's who both my ex-wives married. It's why my second marriage, in particular, fell apart- I never stopped playing the part, and she wasn't in love with Richard Rogers. When the cracks began to show, it all fell apart.

Coming to the Twelfth didn't just give me you- it gave me Ryan and Espo and Lanie and Montgomery and a whole host of people who didn't really care about Rick Castle, but who all gave a damn about Richard Rogers. I've never felt that kind of acceptance before. I've never been a part of a team like that.

I miss that. One of my many, many regrets about not being with you any more is that it makes it awkward to hang out with Ryan and Esposito. Oh, I don't blame them at all. In fact, I kind of adore that they have your back in all of this. I love that they're in your corner, watching your back, all the time. It means that even though I'm not there- I have no right to be the one at your side and at your back, not any more- you still have backup. I trust them with you. There honestly aren't many people I can say that about.

I'm so proud to have known you. I'm so thankful for ways you've enriched my life. I'm grateful for the opportunity to have developed real, solid relationships with real people who don't care about how much money I have or what kind of social status they'll gain by including me in their circle.

Loving you and loving Alexis and loving my mother are the three most real loves I've ever experienced.

It'll be ok, Kate. I'll be ok. I may not have you any more, I may never stop loving you and missing you, but I'll be ok. You don't have to worry about me.

And although you're never going to read these and may never truly understand what a deep, profound, long lasting affect you've had on my life, I want you to know that I'm going to retain that which you've taught me. I'm a deeper, truer person than I've ever been in the past, and I have you to thank for that. As I work on moving on and work past the grief of losing you, I want you to know that I will never forget you or what having you in my life has done for me.

And maybe, just maybe I will be able to become a person worthy of you. Make no mistake, when that day comes, I will pick up the phone in a heartbeat.

In the mean time, just know that in the most real way possible, I will love you always.

All my love,

-Castle

Thoughts?