Author's Note: Had a couple of requests for this one - it's kind of the wrong holiday for this part of the year (oops) but oh well.

3x15 – The Final Nail

"'Show me a hero, I'll write you a tragedy.' F. Scott Fitzgerald said that."

"Then it must have been Hemingway who said, 'Man, I sure could use a drink right about now.'"

"Lead the way. I'm buying."

As much as she loves the Old Haunt, there's no way she's letting him lead them to his own bar where he refuses to let her pay for anything.

Instead they wind up at a quaint little place in Midtown with a rustic feel. The wooden slatted walls are littered with framed pictures, as is the front of the long counter. Yellow lights hang over each table, casting the place in a muted golden ambiance. Flecks of dust catch the light as they waft through the air, settling here and there. It's evident that this place has been around for a while, has a lot of history. A special family significance too, judging by the generations of people in the photographs and the remarkable resemblance between many of them.

Castle and Kate settle around a high-top table by the side window, draping their jackets over the back of the tall chairs before sitting down across from each other. The round wooden table is covered with a layer of plexiglass, beneath which sits the menu, an open tri-fold brochure with drinks and a select few appetizers. Kate orders a beer and Castle a scotch, and they nurse their drinks quietly for a few minutes, neither entirely sure what to say.

It's Kate who finally breaks the silence. "I'm sorry about your friend, Castle."

He shrugs aimlessly but she sees it for what it is, an attempt to mask the pain. "You were right. I put him on a pedestal because of what he did for me. But the Damien I thought I knew was never there to begin with."

"It's hard, when everything you thought you knew turns out to be a lie," she agrees.

"I just..." Castle begins. "I'm a writer because of him. I'm who I am because of him. And now I find out that the whole time, he's been a dishonest, manipulative murderer. I mean," he runs a distraught hand over his face, shakes his head. "What does that make me?"

"It makes you a homesick kid who did what he had to do to make it through," Kate answers, voice low and soothing, resonating over the low din of the bar. It's relatively early still, many of the tables empty, but the steady hum of various conversations is an ever-present backdrop to their evening. "And no one would judge you for that."

Castle shakes his head. "All these years. I believed in him."

"I know," she whispers. She'd questioned him, doubted him, but his unwavering belief in Damien speaks volumes to Castle's good, kind, trusting nature. It's one of the things she lo - likes about him. "And you know what that tells me? That you're tremendously loyal."

He snorts in disgust. "Yeah. To the wrong people."

"Hey." Kate extends a hand, places it over his on the tabletop. She feels him initially stiffen at the contact before relaxing, settling into her touch. "No one blames you, Castle. You couldn't have known."

He takes a drink of scotch, pauses as he swallows. The burn as it slides down his throat is almost enough to mute the pain, the betrayal that eats away at him from the inside out. "I just can't believe - after all he did for me..."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," Kate says gently, her head tilted slightly to one side as she searched for the right words. "He may have encouraged you in the beginning but you're the one who put in the work. You're the one who devoted time and effort to becoming an author."

He smiles wanly.

"And a pretty good one at that," she adds with a gentle squeeze of his hand, pleased to see Castle's smile widen at her words.

"I'm sorry, I must be imagining things," he quips. "Did you just pay me a compliment?"

"Shut up," she shoots back automatically, breaking their connection to swat at his arm before returning her hand to his side. Kate pauses then, offers a soft smile. She normally does her best to avoid stroking his ego, but she has a feeling that tonight, it could probably use a little boost. "But yes. I did. Must be the alcohol talking."

Castle smiles wryly, raises his glass to his lips once more.

They settle into an easy conversation then, talking about anything except the case and Castle's friend and the fact that it's Valentine's Day and they're technically on a date except not really because Kate's real date is in an hour or so and his is nonexistent, unless he counts spending an evening at home with his computer and another tumbler of scotch.

Time passes quickly as they chat, the natural back and forth to which they're so accustomed. Kate is proud of the fact that she's able to keep Castle smiling and laughing through it all. He even cracks a couple of jokes, and she finds herself feeling guilty for pausing the conversation when her phone buzzes with a text from Josh. A part of her almost wants to cancel, claim work as an excuse, but with his travels and their busy schedules, it's been a long time since they've gotten to spend an evening out together. Besides, he's her boyfriend, she reminds herself. He cares about her, and he's gone to great lengths to arrange this date for them.

But Castle cares about her too, and she hates knowing that he's going home alone tonight, trapped in the quiet of the loft with only his thoughts to occupy him.

"Time to head out?" he asks before she can contemplate the matter further.

Kate startles, abruptly torn from her thoughts. She holds up her phone apologetically. "Yeah. I, uh, I should go."

"It's okay," he replies, going for easy understanding, but after the week he's had, it's not enough to hide the hurt. And she has a feeling it's not just the pain of his friend's betrayal that swirls behind his eyes. No, this is something more.

She shakes her head to herself. She doesn't want to think about it right now.

Kate heads to the bar to settle the tab while Castle finishes his last drink of scotch, slides his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. She catches up with him by the door, nudging his arm with her elbow as she stuffs her hands into her pockets. He tosses her a half smile as he fastens the last two buttons of his coat, hustles to catch up as she leans against the door, pushing it open with her side and holding it for him to pass through.

"Thanks," he murmurs softly.

The Manhattan sidewalks are teeming with life as they exit the bar, vibrant and buzzing and crowded, a complete contrast to the mellow, calm interior. Castle pauses to gain his bearings, takes a deep breath before shoving both hands into his pockets and weaving his way into the masses with Kate following close behind.

"Want a ride?" she asks as they wind their way across the sidewalk and come to a stop next to her cruiser. Traffic is bad, but no worse than usual, and they're not all that far from his loft. She can certainly spare a few minutes to give him a lift home.

Instead, Castle shrugs, tilts his head back to look up at the sky. Cloudy and it's a bit chilly, but it doesn't particularly look like rain or snow.

"Nah, I think I'll walk. Clear my head."

She fiddles with her keys, unwilling to let go of their evening just yet. "You sure?"

He meets her eyes this time, and she can see in them the need for some space, some time. "Yeah. It'll be good."

She offers an understanding smile. "Okay."

Kate steps back, poised to turn and cross around to the other side of the car, but his voice stops her, diffident and insecure. "Thank you. For tonight."

She shrugs as though it's no big deal, averts her eyes under his penetrating blue gaze. "No problem."

"No really." His hand closes around her wrist before she can turn away, brush off what she's done for him tonight. "Thank you."

She smiles shyly, a wide, stunning curve of her lips, and he feels his heart twist at the sight, his love for her mixing with the reality of the fact that she's headed off on a date with another man. He pushes the thought away, though, because she's here now. She took him out for a drink, went to great lengths to cheer him up when she had no obligation to do so. And he loves her even more for it.

Her wrist slides from his grasp as she steps back but her fingers fleetingly tangle with his as they disengage. His eyes are automatically drawn to the touch before her soft words lift his gaze back to her face.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Castle."

Thoughts?