For once, Castle's mind was completely blank.
Her words seemed to echo around the room, and he wasn't sure if a second or a minute had passed.
Please don't kiss her, his mind said at last, nonsensically, in Beckett's voice.
She looked at him, unsure if she was even breathing. She felt a growing tightness in her chest, and took a small gasp of air, immediately closing her mouth again. Say something, she thought, and the voice in her head was tinged with panic.
You. She. But. Each word fell like a stone in Castle's mind, sinking immediately out of sight. Her statement had scattered his thoughts like a flock of startled birds, and everything felt momentarily unreal. He focused on her eyes again.
They were large and dark, brown pools, and he could see himself reflected in them. Her throat worked, and he became aware of the tension in her jaw, then the fine crease across her forehead, then the tight line of her lips pressed together. He could still feel her pulse through their joined hands, and it was thudding along on the off-beat of his.
Too late, she thought, a prickling feeling starting to creep up the back of her neck. Crumbled pieces of the wall inside her melted and ran together like mercury, merging and beginning to re-form.
As he watched, a large tear rolled from the corner of her left eye and down her cheek.
Her gaze moved slowly from his eyes down to his lips, then to his chest, then fell to his hand, held in both of hers.
He felt her grip on his hand begin to loosen, and he tightened his fingers around hers.
"But…" he began, but his voice didn't seem to be working properly at the moment. She met his eyes again.
He doesn't know whether to believe me, she thought. Strangely, the realisation brought hope as well as sadness. I probably wouldn't believe me either right now.
"I'm in love with you," she said again.
He was stunned. It took him another few seconds to put any words together.
"Kate," he said, his voice rough.
"I'm here," she replied, adjusting her hands to cradle his.
"If you're… saying that because–"
"No, Rick," she said, her voice catching. "Because it's true."
Another long pause.
"After all this time?" he asked, and she wasn't sure if he knew he'd said it out loud.
She took a breath, and squeezed his hand again to focus his attention.
"For a long time now," she said. "I just… I was lying to myself. I was hiding."
This time, the pause was even longer. His head bowed until he was looking down at the coffee table, and she could practically hear him thinking.
Give him time, she told herself. Of course he needs time.
"This is… a lot," he said at last. "To take in."
She nodded, her eyes fixed on his face even though he wasn't looking at her. After another few moments, he looked up at her.
"Rick?"
"Yeah?"
"Am I too late?"
I have no idea how to process this, he thought. But it's… something.
He saw the mixture of fear and hope in her eyes, and he knew that his mind was already made up. He also knew they had a long way to go before he could accept this change.
"No," he said.
He watched as her eyes closed and she took a deep, wavering breath of relief before looking at him again.
"I'm so sorry about… everything," she said. "I know you didn't have to give me another chance, and I swear I'll do anything to–"
He frowned and lifted his free hand, just very slightly, and she broke off.
"I need to say some things," he said.
His tone was subdued. Slightly sad, or weary. She felt her pulse rate increase again, and she nodded.
"I don't know what to think about all this, Kate," he said, turning his gaze to the coffee table again. "You let me just… circle you, for… years, I guess. Then you tell me this – this thing I've wanted to hear for so long – once I finally decide to move on."
She swallowed, keeping silent, and he continued after a few seconds.
"And if I believe you – and by god I want to – then I'm still faced with the fact that you only reached out to me once I was almost out the door. That doesn't say 'ready' to me. It says… I don't know. Panic, maybe. But not ready. And I don't like what that means."
She felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and the worst part was that everything he was saying was completely reasonable. It was no wonder he didn't trust her words.
He sighed, and it was such a tired sound.
"So I've got to choose between two problems," he said. "Either you're saying something you don't truly mean because you're afraid you'll lose me, or you're doing something you still weren't ready to do two weeks ago, just because you ran out of time. I don't like the odds for us on either one."
She swallowed again, feeling tears running freely down her face now.
He glanced up at her, and she saw pain flash across his face when he saw that she was crying.
"Kate," he said softly, reaching into his pocket and producing a tissue. He reached up and gently dabbed away her tears himself.
"Please don't cry," he said.
She just shook her head, unable to trust her voice at the moment.
He sighed again, then gave her a small smile.
"Listen," he said, setting the damp tissue down on the coffee table and putting his other hand on top of hers. Now they each held both of the other's hands in their own. "That's the bad news. But I'm not done."
She blinked away more tears, clearing her vision for a moment so she could see him. Every ounce of attention was focused on him.
"I'm still in love with you," he said, and all of her remaining flimsy self-control evaporated. A loud sob burst from her and she pulled her hands free, throwing her arms around his neck.
That's probably a good sign too, he thought, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her fully against him.
He stroked her back and let her cry, until her breathing started to settle down. He thought she would pull away, but she only tightened her grip on him. Her forehead was pressed into the crook of his neck, and he could feel a damp patch of his shirt over his collarbone.
"That was the truth, Kate," he murmured, feeling her palms press against his shoulders in response.
"And… it helps to know that… it helps to hear what you said," he continued.
She sighed into his chest, and he knew that she understood why he didn't say to know you feel the same way.
"It gives me hope," he said. "But rushing into something you're not ready for is only going to hurt us both, and we won't be able to survive that."
He held her in silence for almost half a minute, letting the words sink in, before continuing.
"So what do you say I just… give you some time. Let you – and me – deal with what's happened. I'll come back to work, and we'll go on as normal. After tonight, I… I think I can give you some time. I'd rather wait for something that could work. Maybe in a few months we–"
"No," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. She lifted her head from his chest, and pulled back so she could look at him, her hands still resting on his shoulders. His arms fell away from her, and one hand came to rest on her hip.
"I know why you feel that way," she said. Her voice was still watery, but there was a new firmness to her tone. "I'd feel that way too. I'm scared about this, and I won't lie about that. But I'm ready."
She could see the doubt and the want battling each other on his face.
"Let me prove it to you," she said. "I don't know how yet, but I'm going to try. Please don't make me go back now. I'm here, and I want to be with you!"
He looked at her, searching her eyes.
"Kate, this is a really big step–"
"That I want to make."
"But if you just end up going back behind that wall, I swear I don't–"
"I couldn't take it either!" she said, laying her palm against his cheek.
His eyes fluttered closed, and she could feel his jaw tense under her fingers. He inhaled sharply, and she saw gooseflesh break out on his neck.
She felt a stab of compassion and guilt. He's needed this for so long, she realised. Even just this simple thing.
"I love you so much," she said softly, and his eyes snapped open again. "I'm so sorry I haven't told you that before now."
Something in his eyes shifted, and suddenly there was moisture there too. It was like a door had been opened, and she could see and feel the months and months of yearning and uncertainty and loneliness. It was like a knife in her chest, and another sob escaped.
"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
He swallowed, and gave the barest nod.
"Just let me try, Rick," she said. "I know you don't trust me right now" – he opened his mouth to protest but she shook her head and continued – "but let me try to fix it. Let me prove it to you. Just give me the chance."
She moved closer, her face only eight inches or so from his. He felt her breath against him, and he shivered. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and her own lips parted even as another tear rolled down her cheek.
"Kate," he said, his voice hoarse and rough with restrained emotion.
Her hand slid down his cheek to cradle his jaw.
"If we do this–" he began, and she ran her thumb across his cheek, feeling the rasp of the stubble growing there.
"I don't want to go back," she said. "I'm not going to."
She moved another inch closer, and her gaze fell to his lips again, and stayed there.
"We shouldn't… rush," he said. His voice was a whisper now. His eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her lips, and his pulse was visible in his neck. "We shouldn't…"
"Kiss?" she said, meeting his eyes again. They were dark cobalt now, and filled with need. She felt heat chase through her. "We don't have to."
Castle wasn't aware of anything except her. Her face filled his vision, and the scent of her hair and her perfume and her skin was all around him. Her lips were so red, and he couldn't keep his eyes off them. Being cautious suddenly seemed like a very distant and unimportant consideration.
Kate, he thought, and it was the only truth he needed.
"Yes we do," he said, and then his lips were on hers.