It was his first time in her new apartment. She had been staying at his loft after her previous home had been blown to pieces, and he had quite liked the living arrangement back then, a lot, but she had still wanted a place of her own and so they had spent her days off apartment hunting. He had seen the temporary studio apartment she had ended up moving into for a few months, but he hadn't been around long enough to view this more permanent one with her.
"Wow, it's perfect," he said softly, taking in how deeply personal the space was – her eclectic taste scattered across the walls and shelves. "It's even better than the last."
"Yeah," she smiled proudly while she retrieved a vase for the flowers he had brought her, the reminiscent shine the vibrant bouquet had evoked still in her eyes, even when she led him across the living room and into her office area a few minutes later.
But the moment she pulled the shutters back from one of the windows, revealed the web of evidence covering every square inch, her eyes darkened and he felt a sharp wave of nausea roll over him.
"When did you start?" he asked, his eyes roving over the crime scene photos, the information on the deceased, the index cards demanding WHY?
"Over the summer, while you were in the Hamptons," she mumbled and his heart sank even deeper, into his stomach, drowning in the acid.
"You should have called."
"And said what? Hey babe, I'm falling back down the rabbit hole, think you can come help me out even though we're currently not speaking?"
"I promised you," he said sternly, ignoring her lighthearted attempt at a joke and turning to her instead, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. "No matter what, I promised you that I would be there, that we would do this together and I – I broke it. Broke us."
His hands fell away, but she caught him by the fingers, reeled him in until his knuckles pressed into her stomach.
"No, no, you didn't. I - I could have stayed," she whispered even though it was only the two of them in the apartment. "I could have answered one of the hundreds of phone calls you made. I'm just as guilty in breaking us, Castle."
His head shook adamantly, not wanting her taking blame for any of it, but she trapped his skull in between her palms, coiled her fingers around his ears, smoothed her thumbs into the soft lobes.
"You're here now. Just be here now."
She moved into him, dropped her hands from his ears to tangle her arms around his waist and wrap herself around his body. Castle cautiously hugged her back, curving a secure arm at her waist while his other hand cradled her head against his chest. Beckett rarely initiated hugs.
"Not going anywhere, Kate."
He stuck by her side throughout the entire investigation, remaining a solid beam of support for her to lean on whenever she may need, but it was when Ryan and Esposito were taken by the men who wanted her dead that he forced himself to be more than that. He was her partner, that title entailed the right to protect her, and when he saw the sniper aiming for her through a scope, he didn't hesitate.
He was beating the shit out of Hal Lockwood, his fist coming down again and again, the smear of blood warm on his knuckles, the crunch of bone a pleasant shift under his hand and-
"Castle."
He jerked upwards at the sound of her voice, saw her staring down at him and the bludgeoned sniper with concern drowning out any traces of light in her eyes.
Kate stepped around Lockwood's unconscious figure and Castle rose up from his knees to meet her, stiffening in momentary surprise when she snaked her arms tight around his neck before snugly fitting her body to his.
"You okay?" she murmured, stroking her fingers at the base of his skull, continuing the motion until his heavy breathing fell into a steady rhythm with hers.
"Never better," he replied, splaying his good hand at her lower back and suppressing the wince of pain as the throb in his curled fist promptly made itself known. "Just got tired of other men scoping you out."
She choked a laugh into his neck, lifted her head and pressed a chaste, impulsive kiss to his mouth before untangling from him and hustling across the warehouse towards Ryan and Esposito, who were both smirking at them like fools despite their visible injuries.
He followed after her, walked with her and the boys to the nearest ambulance before she ushered him towards one of his own, informing the paramedic inside about his hand. The guy had just finished wrapping his knuckles with a bandage that was too tight when she finally crawled inside the van and took the retreating medic's seat across from him.
"Hey there, Chuck Norris," she grinned, stealing his hand away and loosening the wrap he had already begun fiddling with. "How is it?"
"Excruciating," he sighed, watching her long, slender fingers adjusting the bandaging with tender care, brushing unoccupied fingertips at his wrist as she worked. "How's Ryan and Esposito?"
"Mm, mild hypothermia, wounded pride. Guess which one will heal first?" she mused with a playfully arched eyebrow and he smiled back at her.
She finished securing the bandage and delicately smoothed her thumbs along the white material before bringing his covered knuckles to her lips. It was just a moment, a brief graze of her mouth over his injury, but it made his heart skip.
"Thank you," she said, lowering their hands to her lap. "For having my back in there."
"Always," he answered her without hesitation, and for a second she looked breathless.
"Can I come home with you tonight?" she asked quietly, her thumb circling around his shyly and he pinned the digit to the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.
There was no mystery to what his answer would be, he would never deny her, but part of him faltered, the thought of having her tonight and losing her tomorrow until the next life affirming situation occurred gnawing at him.
He was tired of wondering about their relationship, about hoping for more. He loved her, but he was so very tired.
"Of course."
Her eyes had remained on his injured hand the entire way to his loft, the memory of how it had gotten that way playing on repeat in her mind, but when he hooked their fingers in the elevator, led her to the door of his home, she stopped thinking.
Once sure neither his mother nor daughter were lingering inside, she reached for him, crashed into him a little too frantically, but he caught her, gave it all back.
But it wasn't long before his kisses slowed, his hands withdrew, and his forehead fell to the frame of the door beside her head.
"Castle?" she panted uncertainly, lifting a hand to his nape in concern, but he shook it off.
"I can't do this with you, not again."
She was pinned against his front door, his thigh between her legs and his lips against her neck, pushing words into her skin that she didn't understand.
"W-what?" she stuttered, swallowing down the breathless quality to her voice and looking up at him in confusion. "But I thought you wanted-"
"I want all of you, not pieces."
Kate shrugged him off, couldn't have this conversation with his body pressed to hers. She had to have a clear head for this and she hadn't been thinking with great clarity since he had kissed her for the sake of a ruse in the parking lot.
They had just returned from the warehouse, where he had taken a sniper to the ground and beaten him with his bare hands, and she just wanted him.
She wanted all of him, too.
But there was still a tiny, wounded voice in the back of her mind reminding her of how he had walked out on her without a second glance, how easy it had been for him to give up that night. How was she supposed to believe he would be able to handle a relationship with her again?
"I just - I can't, Kate. Not anymore." He sighed, scrubbed a hand across his eyes before locking his gaze firmly on his office doorway, away from her. "You can sleep in the guest room for the night," he muttered, but she grabbed at his lapels before he could walk away from her.
"I told you I loved you, what more do you want?" she replied in exasperation.
He looked taken aback and then irritated. "When?"
"On the phone, when you were being held by Tyson. You told me you loved me and I said I loved you too," she argued vehemently, because even though it may not be a big deal to him, it was to her. They hadn't discussed it since the night 3XK had escaped, but she still remembered their phone conversation - what she had thought would be their last conversation - clearly.
"You only said that because you knew he was listening," he grumbled and Kate released a frustrated huff.
"I said it because I meant it. I love you back, Castle," she confessed quietly, her eyes slipping to the ground when she felt his land intently on her. "It scares the shit out of me sometimes, but-"
He kissed her, kissed her hard and desperate, and she sighed in relief, slumped against the door and let him prop her up.
"You still love me?" he mumbled against her lips, nipping and grinning at the groan his teeth elicited with such ease.
She nodded. "Yeah, Castle. I love you."
He smiled, a full spread of his lips that showed his teeth and caused his eyes to sparkle, and she traced her thumb over it, smiled back at him.
"I don't think I ever stopped."