FADE INTO LIGHT

4

Things were different. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, at first, but as time went on, he seemed quieter and quieter. Distant.

Her coffee still waited for her every morning, and they still solved cases together, but he didn't tease her as much, didn't flirt anymore.

He was there and yet it felt like absence. She missed him.

And then- She met Demming.

She wasn't interested, at first. Dating another cop reminded her too much of the disaster with Will, but he kept showing up, helping her with cases, bringing her coffee.

The thought occurred to her that Castle did all these things for her as well. She thought of the man, broad-chested and blue-eyed and kind, the specter of him in every part of her life, and her heart skipped, and her stomach fluttered. And then she remembered what he'd said, and wiped the thought of him from her mind - or at least, tried to. What they had - it wasn't real. He wasn't real.

Okay, he was very real to her, but to no one else in this world. He'd been right, of course.

So she said yes, when Demming asked her out on a date, and then on a second one. She found herself enjoying his company, his calm strength and quiet assurance, and when he kissed her in a corner of the precinct, her fingertips tingled.

Castle was quiet and somehow it seemed like she felt his presence more than ever, looming just nearby.

"He asked me to come to his family's beach house with him, for Memorial Day," she told him, one day in mid-May.

"What-" He cleared his throat, and seconds seemed to tick by before he continued. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it."

"Is it serious? With him?" He sounded subdued, and it tore at her heart, but she felt helpless to do anything else. They were stuck.

"I don't know, Rick. It could be." She nodded, wasn't sure if it was for his benefit, or to convince herself. She wasn't sure of anything any longer.

"You should give him a chance, Kate. He's a good guy."

Her eyes widened, and she found herself wishing for a thunderstorm, for a stark flash of lightning that would bring his specter to light so that she could see his face, his expression, see the color of his eyes.

"What about you?"

"I..." His voice was raw and fear clawed at her; she knew she wouldn't like whatever came next.

"I think I need to go... for a while. You need to find your happiness, and I'm in your way. I'm your safety-net, Kate. But as much as I want to make you happy, I can't."

"Where will you go?" Tears streamed down her face, the pain of his loss an almost visceral thing as it ripped through her. "I thought you can't be anywhere else but here?"

"If I'm not here then it's just white. Like thick fog. Or clouds. Don't worry about me; time or space doesn't seem to exist there."

She sniffed, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, her gaze rising to his as if she could see him, see right through him.

He couldn't tell her that he couldn't watch her fall for another guy, that it was ripping his heart out to even imagine her with someone else. It was a selfish thought; the two of them were an impossible idea. And they both knew it.

Rick reached for her, swiped his thumbs across her cheekbones to collect the trails of her tears, and she tilted her cheek into his touch. She blinked, exhaled as if in relief.

"Just- Don't go too far, please? Can you do that for me?"

He nodded, then remembered she couldn't see him. "Yes," he croaked, his voice rough with his own tears. "I can do that."

He'd do anything for her.

Memorial Day weekend came nearer, and the more days had passed, the more torn Kate felt. She'd wanted to say yes, her brain told her she should, yet her gut would flare up in protest, like ice-cold tentacles tearing away at her flesh. What was wrong with her? Demming was a good guy, he'd be good to her, good for her. She could be happy.

She had been happy, her mind objected, fiercely, determined. With Castle. And it was crazy and impossible and yet it felt so real, and she missed him, more with every day. Her loft was too quiet, lonely and dark in the night.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, had trouble looking the detective in the eye when she spoke the words that would break his heart.

"This just isn't what I'm looking for right now."

And she watched his face fall, watched Demming walk out of her precinct floor, and out of her life.

"Castle! Are you here?" Her voice echoed through the vastness of the loft, drew him back until he found himself appearing in front of her. She stood in the entry, turning in a small circle. Her hair was wild, tousled from the storm that was howling outside, her eyes watery yet fierce, sparkling with determination.

"Rick, please," she pleaded for him, and a sob tore from her throat even as she tried to suppress it.

"I'm here."

He could sense her relief when he spoke; almost tangible, like a flavor in his mouth. It matched his own. God he had missed her.

"I broke up with him."

"What? Kate, why?"

"Because he wasn't- I wasn't-" She growled in frustration, her fists balled, and then her eyes rose to his, her determined expression softening as if she could see him, as if she was looking right at him.

"I want you. I just want you, Rick."

He surged for her, couldn't help it, his hands framing her face as he sought her mouth. She opened for him, and her lips were so tender as she caressed his. She tasted like rain and cherries and he couldn't get enough. Oh, oooh. This is what he'd wanted, what he'd needed, craved for months, for years, forever. He had no sense of timing, only knew that nothing had ever felt as right as this moment, right here, with Kate. She moaned, a small delectable sound that rolled deep in her throat and the fire of her burned through him, consuming his senses.

"You know this is crazy, right?" He groaned between kisses, his fingers trawling down her spine and her back arched at his touch, her body surging into his. "Impossible."

"I don't care." She dragged her fingers through his hair, pressed a line of soft kisses along his bottom lip. "I don't care."

She peeled her clothes off, took her time with each piece, savoring the reveal of her body to him to the subtle sound of his breathing, his murmurs of appreciation. Stark-naked, she walked to the side of her bed and turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness, and then she climbed onto her bed, sank down into the nest of pillows behind her head. Strands of milky streetlight filtered in through the windows, giving the room shapes and dimension, and she knew he'd be able to see her. Just like the night when she had first met him, a storm was raging outside; distant thunder boomed across the sky and she hoped for lightning, hoped that its purple brightness would flash through the room and let her see him love her, just once.

"Come here."

And then she felt his warmth all around her, blanketing her, and she could feel him - touching her, kissing her, exploring, attentive as he sought to draw each response from her body. He made love to her, and she could hardly grasp that it was even possible, like this, that it was really happening. It was surreal and yet she felt him like he was flesh and blood and it was the most incredible experience she'd ever had. She clung to him, lost in his warmth and the sensations he drew from her; his touch, the soft curl of his tongue, his kisses everywhere, her body welcoming him, again, and again, until she slumped back in exhaustion, limp and sweaty, and giddy with joy.

"You should always be loved like this," he murmured into her ear, kissing the tender spot beneath her earlobe, and her cheekbone, and down her neck, suckling on her pulse point until she gasped, writhing and wiggling beneath him.

Lightning jagged through the air and she saw him hovering above her, his look solemn, intense. She played her fingers down the lines of his face, curved her palm to his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing.

"I love you," she whispered over the crash of a thunderclap, and his eyes flew open, the deep blue of his pupils striking as he looked down at her. Then he kissed her, slow and sweet, and she could feel the curve of his wide smile against her lips.

"And I love you."

"I wish things were different." She sighed, her thumb playing along his bottom lip. "I wish we hadn't missed our chance. I wish we'd had one." The tears came again, unbidden, though she tried to suppress them, didn't want to taint any moment she had with him with sadness.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he buried his face in her neck, murmuring against her skin. "I'm so sorry."

"I know, babe." She trailed her fingers up and down his spine, stopped fighting the tears that still threatened to roll down her cheeks. Theirs was an impossible, insolvable situation. If you couldn't cry about that- "I know. I'm sorry, too."

"You know I'll have to leave, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She stared up at the ceiling, watched the shadows dance and couldn't imagine ever being without his presence again. He was dead - objectively speaking - and yet he'd filled her life with more life than she ever thought possible. She'd thought she'd lost that part of herself when her mother died, the part that could love so wholly, so irrevocably.

Suddenly his warmth was surrounding her once more, his body draped atop hers and his hands framing her face. "I want you to be happy, Kate. You deserve to be happy. Don't forget what love feels like." He kissed her, hard and deep, his body pressing her into the mattress and she felt like she was drowning in his kiss, remade by it.

"This is what love feels like. What making love should feel like."

Kate nodded, arched up under him, felt him shudder at her touch, his stomach muscles tensed and his body straining for her. Hooking her knees high over his hips, she brushed her lips to his.

"Maybe you should remind me once more."

She was so beautiful. He looked down at her, tried to take in every line and feature, everything that was unique about Kate. He hoped that wherever he went, he'd never forget this moment. Any moment he'd been granted with her.

He loved her so much. Rick had never loved anybody the way he loved her, so wholly and all-consuming. Kate. Remarkable, frustrating, challenging, extraordinary Kate.

If only they'd had a chance. If only they had met earlier, or he hadn't been driving back so late that night at the same time and the same spot as that drunk jerk.

If only.

Her face was so peaceful as she slept, her lips drawn into a tiny smile, her hair wild and tangled against the pillows. She looked tousled, thoroughly loved. She had an arm slung up next to her head, and the sheet had slid low on her torso, revealing her pale, silky skin smudged by the early dawn light, the soft slope of one breast.

He kissed her softly, savored feeling her lips beneath his, then trailed his index finger down the side of her face, the length of her neck, rested his fingertips over the subtle throb of her pulse beneath the skin - the sign of her life, steady and vibrant.

"I'll always love you," he whispered, felt himself fading away even as he did.

"Always."