Disclaimer: Not a chance. Behavior unbecoming...

What If…?

WARNING: Includes M Rated material and language. Not suitable for reading at work.

Chapter 14: Come To Bed

Castle sits on the edge of Kate's bed, her dark comforter pulled over his knees, lost for a couple of minutes. He's just revealed a pretty big personal secret to her – therapy for two and a half months to deal with his 'Beckett-related issues': the shooting, his role in it, his longstanding unrequited love for the woman, a complete inability to address the issue with her directly, the enormous sense of loss when she never called, his feelings of impotence and lack of entitlement to pursue her, run after her, claim her.

The entirety of it all drove him nuts to the point of not sleeping, not eating, being unable to write another word of Nikki and Rook's story when he and Kate were…well, when he basically thought they were over for good.

When four weeks flipped over into five, he gave up completely on her and on them. He'd always given her the benefit of the doubt before, always blamed his own jackass behavior for her withholding, found tons of excuses and reasons for her to keep him at arm's length; from her mother's murder to her father's alcoholism, his failed marriages, playboy lifestyle, her job, the boys, or on his worst days, when he believed that he simply wasn't good enough. But this, what she was doing now - not so much as a text for her supposed partner in weeks – this was pure cruelty. So, he finally gave up.

But now he's sitting in her bedroom unsure what to do next. He would never have presumed to go after her in the past…not until a day ago when everything about them changed. He's given her space so many times before when she's asked for it and even when she hasn't. And where did that get him? Four years of sitting on the sidelines while she dated men she didn't love.

Hell, Kyra asked him for space once, a couple of decades ago, when what she really meant was 'follow me to London, Rick' and look how that turned out. Women say they want space, but they really don't. What they really want is for you to prove how much you love them by being persistent and overcoming every roadblock and emotional barrier they put in your way.

He's done with giving Kate space. It's time to fight for what he wants and for what he knows they both need, time to learn from his own mistakes.

When he goes out into her living room, the space is empty and dark except for a long shard of moonlight silvering the floor like the cold blade of a knife. He narrowly misses the corner of her coffee table on his way to the kitchen, managing a side step to protect his shins just in the nick of time. And then he sees her, standing in her underwear, long legs stretching from beneath that adorably soft cardigan he's never seen her wear before, the belt hanging loose, dangling near the floor. And despite the seriousness of the moment, the emotional upset, he finds himself wondering if this is another Kate he is yet to be privy too; an off-duty, softer, more casual Kate, who hangs out in mohair and silk, ballet flats and messy buns. He knows one thing for sure - he wants the chance to find out.

She's leaning against the edge of her kitchen sink sipping a glass of water when he catches sight of her. Her shoulders are slightly hunched, her bare toes scrunched up against the cool grain of the hardwood floor and she has one arm banded across her stomach as if in pain. The sodium flare of ambient light leaking in through the window throws shadows that highlight the jut of her shoulder blades when she places the glass down and snatches at a sheet of paper towel from the holder on the wall to blow her nose.

Castle can't hear her crying, can't even see her face, but he can see her distress, her guilt, outlined in the way she carries herself; in the weight that bows her normally erect frame.

Enough.

"Come back to bed," he says quietly, not wanting to startle her, his voice resonating deeply in her quirky kitchen, his tone one of peacemaking wrapped up in forgiveness.

But from her lack of reaction he suspects that she already knew that he was there, would come looking for her as usual; her ever-present shadow.

He risks getting closer, reaches out hesitantly to touch the center of her spine with his fingertips. The soft mohair yarn of her sweater feels warm against his skin, but he can feel Kate's body trembling underneath this delicate, fragile armor, the open weave as intricate as a spider's web.

"Kate, you're shaking. Let's get you to bed," he insists, planting his hands on her shoulders to turn her around.

"What have I done?" she whispers hoarsely, clutching the wadded up ball of paper towel to her chest.

"Nothing that can't be undone," Castle reassures her. "Now, come. Bed," he tells her, firmly.

She spins around suddenly and buries her face in his neck, almost overbalancing him with the surge of her body up against him.

"Hey, hey, now," soothes Castle, stroking the back of her head, letting his fingers tangle in the loose frizz of curls that lie mussed down her back, while he holds her.

"I've been so selfish," she whispers, her tears soaking into his t-shirt. "So selfish," she repeats, with a shuddering sigh.

Castle stays silent, neither the energy nor the words to counteract her claims right now. He just lets her vent, lets her rage against her own cowardice, until her balled up fists uncurl at his back, and the warm flat of her palms press either side of his spine, drawing him closer, as if she wants to merge them into one.

If they can resolve the worst of their problems like this, he thinks, shivering under the electrifying brush of her lips over his throat, then they will be okay. Everything will be okay.

"Bed," he says again, huskily, and she gives in this time, lets him lead her by the hand like a child found sleepwalking in the dead of night, back to her bedroom, back to the bed they are sharing; to talk, to explain, to attempt to understand, to forgive.

She curls up beside him, her head on his shoulder, her knees turned towards him, resting against his thigh. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses the top of her head, pulling the comforter over both of them.

"We've made quite a mess," he concedes, resting his chin on her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks again. "Or…or try to find me?"

He thinks the answer to that last question is possibly so blindingly obvious that his reply goes without saying. But then, so much has gone without saying for too long where they are concerned.

"I could say the same about you, Kate. So we both sought professional help and we didn't feel like sharing. I'm guessing your reasons won't be too dissimilar to mine. Who wants to look weak or broken in the eyes of the one person they hope will admire them the most? Hmm?"

"You could never be weak in my eyes, Castle. Your ability to forgive alone makes you one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"I was damaged by this, Kate. We both were. When you came to see me at that book signing, I was going through the motions in an antidepressant haze," he confesses.

Kate stiffens next to him.

"I took sleeping pills for four months just to make it through the night without dreaming," she offers by way of an exchange.

"I wish I could have helped you with that," he laments, squeezing her knee.

"See!" she says, sitting up and turning to face him. "You're a much better person than I am. I run away to lick my wounds, I leave you hanging after you share the biggest thing anyone can share with another human being, and still your concern is for me, for my well being. What about you, Rick? Who's taking care of you?" she pushes, feeling the swell of inequity rising between them again, her taking for granted days behind her if she has anything to do with it.

"So, make it up to me. Make it up to me from now on. We can't undo the past, Kate. All the stupid, selfish mistakes we've made, all the small and big ways we've hurt one another. But we can take care of the future."

She nods distractedly, settling against him again, toying with the crisp hem of the sheet, running it under her fingernail as she builds up to ask more of him. Needing them both to share everything tonight.

"So…can you tell me, only if you want to obviously, about your sessions with Dr. Eadie. Did they help?"

"I went to see my own doctor one day because I wasn't sleeping. I…I just wanted a prescription, something to stop the noise in my head so that I could get a few hours respite. He asked me a few questions and then a few more. Suddenly it was like a dam burst. I was crying in my doctor's office to a guy I'd known for years. A guy who'd been to my parties, knew my kid, had patiently answered every one of my insane medical questions for countless books. And now I'm weeping like a baby in front of him and the only word he said he could make out was 'Kate'."

Kate has her hands over her face as she listens to him, shielding her eyes. But Castle gently peels them away and then carries on. He wants, no he needs, her to hear this.

"He referred me to the therapist I mentioned. And for the next few weeks, every Tuesday and Friday at three, that was my hour to offload. He put me on antidepressants pretty much right away. I hated them. They made me feel jittery, restless at first. My thoughts were still too scattered to write anything longer than a grocery list. But then gradually they started to work and the cloud began to lift a little. I started to eat better, forced myself to take Alexis out, walked and walked around my neighborhood until I was so exhausted I slept through the night without meds."

"Did the talking help?" asks Kate, curious to match her own experience to Castle's.

"Some. You know me, usually can't shut me up," he says, with a chuckle. "This guy must have been a saint. I think he sat through two entire sessions where I hardly uttered a word. But then when I was on my own, things would occur to me. Questions and doubts would swarm in my mind like noisy bees. I needed someone neutral to bounce that stuff off, since you were gone, and we had basically spent the last four years pretending there was nothing more between us than some unwritten professional contract that allowed me to follow you around and allowed you to be pissed off at me for doing so. And maybe gradually we became friends, but there would always be this invisible line we weren't supposed to cross. Only someone clearly forgot to copy my poor heart into that memo. And so…yeah, this unfortunate guy eventually got the full download."

"I seemed to spend a lot of time talking to Dr. Burke about fear," admits Kate.

"Fear…of the sniper coming back?"

"That, and fear of more…emotional issues."

"Care to elaborate, Detective?" he teases, rocking her against his side for a second, just needing her to know that as angry and bitter as he can be over this, he still loves her, and he promised none of this would change who they are now.

"I could feel you drifting away from me a few weeks ago. I thought we were getting closer. That…I was nearly there. Our relationship seemed…lighter than it had in a long time. I looked forward to coming to work, Castle. To spending the day with you. And then all of a sudden, it was like that invisible line you were talking about had become this massive force field, and you were backing away from me. Dr. Burke thought that maybe since seven months had already passed since you told me that you loved me…and I basically left you hanging…"

"Wait. You told your therapist about me, Kate? That I loved you? That you remembered me telling you that?" asks Castle, completely surprised.

"Yes," admits Kate, dropping her head in her hands again. "Don't be mad at me. I was just like you: confused, hurting, trying to heal and not ready to deal with what you'd told me yet. But suddenly you were running around with other women and I know it wasn't fair of me to expect you to wait, but I thought we had an understanding. A…a plan."

"You mean from the day on the swings?"

"Yes."

"Kate, I'm a man," he says plainly, as some kind of an apology.

"I had noticed," she says, nudging his shoulder and blushing.

"I was forty years old and I'd been single for over a year, just…just waitin' around for you to notice me. You walked away from me, but I stayed faithful to you, whatever that means, while you were gone. So, going the extra distance when you effectively asked me to wait some more…not a problem. I believed we were going to get there. But I was lonely, Kate. And when I heard you tell that kid, Bobby Lopez, in interrogation that when you got shot you remembered every second of it…that was it for me. The shutters came down. You lied to my face more than once about not remembering. I felt like an idiot for believing maybe you felt the same way about me."

"But I did!" she insists vehemently.

"Then…then why didn't you say something? Anything. A clue, a hint. Ask me to wait. Just…something, Kate?"

"Because I was scared," she yells, so ashamed.

"Of me?"

"Of everything. Loud noises, my own shadow at times, change, people, and yes…you. I thought you needed more than I could give you. I thought you deserved better than me. Dr. Burke asked me what I was afraid of - that you wouldn't wait until I was completely ready, or that you would. That about sums it up."

"Promise me we talk from now on? Now matter how ugly or weak you think your thoughts are, we talk about them. Both of us, Kate."

"If you agree not to let me off the hook? You should have asked me about that day in interrogation, Castle, instead of just walking away."

"Stupid male pride, I guess. But there is something I have always wondered…?" he says, pursing his lips.

"What's that?"

"Did it help…being alone at your dad's cabin to recover?"

"Some days it did. No one was there to watch me fall, I mean emotionally speaking, after he left. It was peaceful, and I couldn't deal with the noise of the city after everything. It was too confusing, too frightening. I felt safe there. But there were days when it was unbearably lonely too," she admits. "Just me and the birds."

"Oh, Kate."

"Hey, I am as stubborn as my mom at times. So it was my own fault," she says, holding up her hands to stop him from hugging her, needing to explain this to him. "And on those lonely days, I would think about you a lot. I used to try to remember all the cases we'd worked together and all the crazy theories you came up with for each one," she smiles wistfully.

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm. And when you add them all together like that…I'm kind of glad you saw a therapist," she laughs, squirming when he tickles her side in revenge.

"Would you have sent me away if I'd come looking for you back then?" he asks, looking down at her pale, tired face.

"Probably. Castle, I don't know. I wasn't ready for this. I know that much."

"But you are now?"

"What do you think?" she asks, dropping her head back onto his shoulder with a sigh.

"One last question," he says, and Kate braces herself for what, she doesn't know.

"Would you have come looking for me at that book signing if I hadn't had the files you wanted?"

There's a heavy silence in the bedroom following Castle's pivotal question.

"The files were just an excuse, Castle. It was you I wanted to see," she admits, letting out a long breath.

"Honestly?"

"No more lies. I needed to know if you'd moved on with your life, if you still cared at all. For all I knew you could have been with someone else by then. And I wouldn't have blamed you for not waiting around anymore. The boys assumed we were in touch the whole time I was recovering. They were disappointed when I told them I hadn't spoken to you since the shooting. They pushed me to see you. But in reality, those files just gave me the opening that I needed. Selfish again, but no less true."

"You were like a vision when you stepped out of the line in that bookstore."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," admits Kate, thinking back to the day Castle visited her in the hospital, the shock of the at once so familiar and yet unfamiliar sparking something deep inside.

"I cancelled my next appointment with Dr. Phil that afternoon and threw the pills in the trash. You might think that all you did was hurt me, Kate. But…you made up for a lot of lost time that day. You gave me some hope back, no matter how small."

"I know it wasn't enough. That it wasn't anywhere near what you deserved. But like you said, I hope that can be in the past now. What matters is what happens from here on in."

"So you're sure? This…us. It's what you want?"

"Castle, I already told my dad. The boys know. I told you to tell Alexis. Believe me when I say it's exactly what I want," she tells him, swiveling round in bed so that he can see her face.

"Okay. Good. So, how do you want to handle it? Are we going slow, start dating from scratch, going public? What?"

"Our families already know, the guys, but we still need to hide it from Gates if we want to keep working together. But…other than that, I'm through being cautious and tentative with each other. I want you, Rick. I want you in my life in every way possible. Lets just work from that, can we?"

Castle tucks a loose curl behind her ear, and then skirts her cheekbone with his thumb to cup her jaw.

"You just made me a very happy man, Kate Beckett."

"You've been making me happy for a long time, Mr. Castle," she tells him, tenderly touching the soft skin beneath his eye, where a damson-colored bruise has blossomed.

"How about we get some sleep?" suggests Castle, figuring Kate must be as exhausted as he is after the emotional unburdening they've been engaging in for the last twenty-four hours.

"Sleep?" asks Kate, blushing and sounding a little surprised, trying to tamp down the curl of need spreading through her.

But then she shuts up, figuring Castle is recovering and they should really just put everything else on hold for tonight, no matter how much she wants to make things up to him.

"Sure. Let's get some sleep," she agrees.

They brush their teeth and prepare to settle in for the night, feeling deeply relieved and closer than they've ever felt before.

Kate blows out the candles and then climbs in beside her partner, fully intending to be good and go to sleep. But by the time he switches the lamp off, Kate's skin in beginning to burn and tingle with the effect of having him in her bed. And then Castle strips off his t-shirt and snuggles up behind her, his naked chest pressed against her back, which is also bare where her camisole ends below her shoulder blades, and suddenly all bets are off.

He slides one knee between her thighs, wraps his arm around her body, his large hand spread flat against her abdomen, the other tucked beneath her pillow.

"Goodnight, Kate," he whispers, kissing the shell of her ear. "Sweet dreams," he murmurs against her neck, his breath fanning the curve of her shoulder.

And it's just too much.

Her body is thrumming with desire for the man draped around her. She finds herself beginning to move her hips, circling her buttocks against his pelvis, driven by need and a lingering insecurity to attempt to arouse him tonight of all nights, after they have just laid themselves bare to one another – their deepest, messiest, ugliest secrets.

She feels Castle's surprise when she presses her ass against him for a third time, his fingers tightening on her abdomen as he follows her, rocking back after her, the move beyond his control when his hips chase the firm press of her buttocks.

But then he settles again, while her heart pounds, and how can he not feel that - her desperate need for him – she wonders.

So she lets one leg slide down over the cool sheets, allowing his knee more room to push between her thighs, and then she arches her spine and rolls her hips back against him again, and suddenly there it is: her sweet reward – the awakening of his body to her siren song.

She reaches back, flexes her fingers on his hip, pulling him against her at the same time as she pushes back into him, feeling his erection growing against the swell of her ass, eventually finding the hollow between her buttocks as it strains for freedom against the warm silk of his boxer shorts.

"Kate, what are you…?" he croaks in the dark of the bedroom.

"Shhh," she whispers, circling her hips lightly, rubbing herself over and over his throbbing, hard penis.

"Kate?" he whispers, brushing his lips over the bare portion of her back, sweeping her hair to one side to expose more skin. "Thought we were supposed to be sleeping?"

"Do you want to stop?" she asks, suddenly going still.

"No," he groans, arching his pelvis against her with a grunt of need.

"Well, then," she sings a little smugly, taking his hand and guiding it to cover her right breast, sighing out, "Oh God, yes," when he cups the swell of soft flesh and her nipple immediately hardens against his palm.

He strips the thin strap off her shoulder and pinches her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it as she writhes beneath him, the shock of sensation piercing her all the way to her core, like a jolt of electricity.

Kate rolls fully onto her stomach, drawing him with her so that he is half-draped over her back. She spreads her legs wider, arching her spine again until Castle curses.

"Fuck, Kate. You're gonna have to stop that or no one's sleeping tonight."

"Glad you're finally getting the idea," she murmurs, smiling into her pillow.

When she reaches back to stroke him through his boxers, Castle jolts in surprise. Hissing, "Jeez," into her hair, as she runs her fingers up and down his thick length and a wet spot blooms through the dark navy silk where his glistening tip presses against the fabric.

Finally, he gives restraint the brush-off and squeezes her hip, before slipping his fingers in between her body and the bed to cup her own arousal-dampened underwear. When he slips a finger under the elastic he moans in delight at how ready she is, how turned on.

"You're so wet," he hisses, failing to hide the dark smile in his voice, the one shot through with possessive male pride that he did this to her, that it's him she wants now. No matter their past, she only wants him.

He tugs at her panties and she shimmies them down over her thighs, losing them somewhere beneath the sheets. He frees himself from his own underwear in a desperate, untidy rush, her juice coating his fingers, making his cock thicken even more, the painful throb in his head ignored for now.

Then he grasps the underside of her right thigh, and hoists it higher, wider, until her lips are spread open for him, and he can tease her with his rigid length, running it between her slippery folds, brushing against her clitoris, painfully slowly.

Kate moans, hands fisting the sheets, as she lets her hips ride the hard length of his cock until she can't take it anymore, aching to have him inside her. She reaches behind, grasping him in her hand, and then circles her swollen entrance with the head of his penis.

Castle groans and splays his hand flat across her abdomen, and warmth spreads through her, heating her face and flushing her chest.

When she guides him in, he soon takes over, pushing the entire length of his erection into her, slowly filling her, stretching her body around him while his large hand holds her in place.

"Oh, God," he curses, breaths coming in ragged heaves, though they've barely even started. "Why did we wait so long to do this?" he asks, letting his tongue paint a line from her shoulder to her ear, grazing the same path with his teeth.

"Don't know," admits Kate. "But unless we speed things up, I'm not going to last long tonight."

He thrusts into her, pressing her down onto the bed with his hips, her legs spread apart, his hand keeping them hard up against each other, trapping her body against his so that he can feel every undulation of her pelvis, every strain of her thigh and buttock muscles, every ripple of her abdominals beneath his palm. She's alive beneath him and he thinks this might just be the hottest time yet.

When Kate arches her back, lifting them both off the bed, he yanks the straps of her camisole down her arms so that the garment falls to her waist, exposing her breasts in the faint glow of light coming in through the bedroom window. He can see her peeked nipples outlined in coal black shadow, the swell of her firm breasts milky white against the ebony headboard, and she shudders beneath him when the cool air rushes over her skin and he strokes the sensitive underside of her breasts with the heel of his hand, his neck arching to reach for her mouth.

"You are unbelievable," he whispers in her ear, teeth moving to graze the smooth curve of her shoulder where the orb of taut skin catches the light and the moonlike glow calls to him.

"Believe it," she grits out, breathily adding, "Lots more where this comes from," rocking back and forwards, riding his erection, the flesh of her buttocks beginning to slap noisily against his lower belly while he works to stroke his length in and out without stopping, working her higher through his own crazy fog of lust.

"Castle, touch me?" she begs, guiding his hand to where their bodies are joined.

He can feel her desperate need as she grips him firmly with her inner muscles, milking the fluid friction of their bodies sliding against one another, feels her juice trailing down his balls, sticking to his thigh, her state of high arousal driving his own need tonight.

All those months spend apart, barely existing, living through a haze of grief. If he could only have known that moments like this would be waiting for him in his future, he could have gotten through anything.

Kate reaches behind her again, her nails digging into the undulating flesh of his buttocks, bringing him sharply back to the present, as she urges him to fuck her harder.

He wraps his right arm across her chest, his left around her stomach, pinning her beneath him, and then he gives her everything he's got.

Their breathing is perfectly in tune, ragged and fought for, and sweat slicks the skin between them as Castle rides her, his chest sliding over her naked back. When his thick middle finger slips down to sweep lazy, traitorous circles over her clitoris, the game is finally up.

"Oh, shit, yes," she gasps, spreading her legs even wider. "Mmm, that's it. Oh God, Castle, yes!" she exclaims, licking her parched lips as she gives in to the surge of release.

She arches off the bed, squeezing her eyes tightly closed, while she flutters and shudders, breaking around Castle's cock and fingers.

He moves his hands to grip her hips as his thrusts become urgent and chaotic.

"Uh, oh God," he cries out, gripping her hard, both arms tightened around her middle once more while he powers one last thrust into her, trembling at her back when she feels the warm, wet pump of him spilling inside her, his own brief fluttering before his body sags on top of her and goes limp, his heart hammering against her spine.

He immediately rolls them onto their sides, still welded together, his lips pressed to her hair, murmuring sweet words against her tingling scalp.

"You okay?" whispers Kate, disentangling their shaking limbs to turn and face him.

She's sticky and sweaty and exhausted, but so happy that this awful day could end this way: with them together. Broken and then mended again by their own hand this time.

"I'm…" he pants, laughing at his own lack of stamina in the face of such fit hotness. "I'm going to the gym tomorrow," he gets out, to a relieved laugh from Kate.

"Head's okay? Sorry I kind of ambushed you," she tells him, tenderly touching his face, pulling the comforter up to cover their cooling flesh.

"Ambush me anytime, Detective," he grins, kissing the end of her nose.

"Now, I guess we really should sleep," she whispers, curling around him, pressing her cheek to his chest, then kissing the smooth skin over his rapidly beating heart.

"Sleep sounds good," he admits, lying still in the dark while Kate goes to the bathroom to get tidied up, dropping her camisole in the laundry basket on the way, preferring to sleep naked tonight.

When she comes back to bed, Castle is passed out cold, lying on his back. His hair is stuck to his forehead again, and his mouth is sagging open, and she watches him in the dimness of her bedroom, marveling at this gift she's been granted; this second chance to do things right.

She quickly sets the alarm on her phone and then lies down beside him.

"I love you," she whispers, before turning away to face the window, to settle down for the night with her sleeping partner at her back.

She smiles into her pillow when she hears her partner's response and feels his fingers slip possessively over her hipbone.

"Love you more, Kate," he murmurs, before falling back to sleep.

A/N: Long chapter again, but after the last cliffhanger, I feared for my life if I'd cut this one in two! Not much left to go now. Liv