Author's Note: I am once again humbled by the outpour of love and support in your reviews, tweets etc. Thank you so much, it really means a lot. Oh, to my silent viewers - those who do not leave reviews - I love you guys, too, and I understand that there might be reasons for you not to leave a review. However, if you like, I always love to read them.

I find it insanely easy to write these characters and I think it's because they're so well written by the insanely talented Castle writers - I am grateful they have those inspiring minds. That's all.

Previously on "Pivotal Question"...

"Oh, really?" the receptionist said, eyes widening in surprise, "I thought when someone looked like you do, there must at least be one husband. Or a whole garrison of good-looking charming men lining up to be a chosen candidate. That's rather surprising ..."

"Not to me," Kate sighed and looked onto her brown suede heels. Time to change the subject. Within seconds Veronica had gone into the office and Kate was left alone with her thoughts, yet again. She didn't know what to expect. At all. She only knew she had to do it. For herself. For him. For her job. For the city. For them. She needed this, more than she'd ever admit to anyone.

"Ms Beckett?"
It looked like this anyone had just called her name.

Kate eyed the black leather couch opposite to the one Dr. Carter Burke had just taken a seat hin. There was this blatantly obvious cliché about the psychologist and the fact that a psychologist's patient usually lay down on a couch where he or she spoke openly and freely about all of their troubles. Kate snorted. Definitely not her, most definitely not.

He waited.

Dr. Carter Burke waited for her to start the conversation, Kate realized. A part of her wanted to dive right in just to make the burden lighter she was feeling. This just wasn't the way Katherine Beckett worked. For some strange reason, maybe it was intuition, her counterpart seemed to be sensing this.

That was precisely why he waited.

To see if she was able to start the process on her own or whether she needed a little nudge to continue. Kate decided that sitting down on the leather couch just wasn't what she felt comfortable doing so she set herself in motion and walked over to the big window whose view was astonishingly beautiful, despite the now cloudy day over Manhattan. Her left shoulder hurt and she knew it was because she was pretending tp be back to normal already. Lies. White lies just to make her feel better but Kate suspected that she would suffer more in the long run if she kept up pretending she was fine. Healthy. Back to normal.

Truth was, she wasn't.

Addressing this issue could not and would not ever be easy for a person as strong and as independent as she was. Ever since her mother had been stabbed in a dark and dirty alley in Washington Heights, controlling her life the way she had been doing it had been what had kept her going. Or having one foot out of the door as Castle had put it.

Castle...

She turned around and faced her psychiatrist.

"I don't know how these things work," she started, tentatively, "and I am not entirely convinced this is indeed necessary. But I was ordered to see a psychiatrist in order to be declared fit for duty eventually. This is why I am here in the first place."

She ended right there in order to not explain too much to a person she had never before seen in her entire life. Still, Dr. Burke sensed that there was more to the story than her attempt to be declared fit for work in order to be a homicide detective again.

"Well, there is no fixed schedule, we can take this as fast or as slowly as you'd like," he offered her an out which she gladly took. Kate grinned appreciatively and bit her tongue in order to prevent her from saying 'as fast as possible, I want to be out here in less than an hour'.

Sarcasm. A worthy means in a situation like this.

"Whether you believe that talking about your experience helps or whether you don't really doesn't make much of a difference, really," Dr. Burke offered her an out which she gladly considered taking, "we will have to do it regardless. I am a very patient person so whatever you feel comfortable with sharing, I'll be here to hear it. Or to not hear it. That's up to you."

It was going to be a long fifty-five minutes...

The elevator doors opened and Castle stepped into the familiar environment of the 12th precinct. He inhaled the dusty scent of the bullpen and closed his eyes for a few moments. In the back of his head he wished to see her behind her desk when he opened them but he knew this could not be the case. She was still healing. Grieving.

He opened his eyes and looked for detectives Ryan and Esposito but was disappointed not to see them sat in their regular seats in the bullpen two rows away from ...

Beckett.

She was still gone, her desk deserted but not emptied out as he registered with a somewhat relieved feeling in his gut. She hadn't quit after all, it seemed. He hadn't thought she would, though, but after a traumatizing experience people changed. People gave up things they knew how to do best. People made stupid and rushed decisions. Such as he made one, leaving the hospital when she had woken up ...

"Hey Castle," she said, her face lighting up at the sight of her latest visitor. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, she was pale as a ghost but she was alive and breathing. Not too long ago Castle hadn't believed he would ever see her again and there she was, alive and breathing. But not alone. Her boyfriend ... muttered encouraging compliments into her ear, about how she looked good in a hospital gown ... Castle doubted that Kate Beckett appreciated the gesture or the compliment. She was far too realistic to ignore the fact that she probably looked like hell.

He clutched the bouquet of flowers in his hands, stepped from one foot onto the other, unsure as to what he should do or say. After all, there was still some tension between him and the other men present. Castle was sure Kate must have sensed it too, because she looked from one man to the other, a brow furrowed in confusion.

The silence was deafening. Josh got the clue and excused himself. When he passed Castle the tension between the two men was more than tangible, an electric current of anger and frustration in the air. Castle exhaled deeply when Josh Davidson had left the room and the door closed with a small thud.

"Hey," he said, approaching her. He never let her out of his sight which didn't go unnoticed by a flushed Kate Beckett. She rubbed her forehead and replied: "You're staring at me! I must look really bad.."

"Nah ... I'd just never thought I'd see you again," he answered, a small hopeful smile on his face.

She looked at him, unsure what to say. She knew it had been a narrow escape, knew it wasn't the likeliest scenario that she was alive, breathing and talking to him. His gaze still made her feel uneasy and she was afraid. Afraid he might want to repeat what he'd said at the cemetery. She better not ...

"I heard you are opening a flower store so I thought I pitch in," Castle attempted to joke and looked at the display of flower arrangements around Kate's bed. He placed the small, white glass vase on the bedside table and sat down on the chair next to her bed.

"They were all here when I woke up, I think they're mostly from my precinct," Kate explained, her voice strained and raspy.

"I hear that you tried to save me?" Kate asked, nonchalantly, averting his glance.

"Yeah .. I ... you heard? You don't remember me tackling you?" Castle asked, his hopes

"No, I don't remember much of anything," Kate said, looking down and biting her lip. 'Focus Kate, don't say you heard it, just don't say you did..'

"I remember that I was on the podium and then I remember everything just gone black..."

"You don't remember ..." Castle stated, his voice strained and tense. 'Me saying that I love you. Me saying that I couldn't live without you. Me saying that you needed to stay with me, hold onto me, hold onto life. You don't remember...'

"... the gunshot," he said instead, sensing that she wasn't telling him what he wanted ... needed to hear. Scared. Too scared.

"No." Castle looked at her, not daring to blink in case he might miss any reaction, any small sign that she was lying. That she had heard him after all. Deep down inside he knew that he would be waiting for a long time. Even if Kate had indeed heard him say the most important things he had ever said in his entire life, she would never admit it. He knew she wouldn't.

"They say there are some things that are better not being remembered..."

"Yeah," he agreed, his eyes averting her stare for a nano second before locking his glance on her face once again.

"I keep seeing his face, Castle. Every time I close my eyes I see Montgomery lying on the hangar floor. You should've let me go in there..."

"They would have killed you..."

"Oh you don't know that..."

"Kate..." he started, his voice getting increasingly strained by the pain he was feeling. Why wasn't she listening to him? Why was she risking her life all over again? Why was she not grasping the degree of danger she ... they were in?

"Castle ... I'm really tired..." she said, matter-of-factly and needing to find an excuse to see him out. Her teeth ground together almost aggressively and she gave him a look that said 'I know what I am doing and whatever it is, it's none of your business...'

"Right now!"

"Of course," he replied, angrily but he made an effort to downplay his aggravation as he got up.

"Of course. We'll talk tomorrow..."

"Do you mind if we don't? Kate said, willing herself to look him in the eye to make this request more convincing. Castle turned back around and examined her every movement, every expression. Did she really mean that?

"I just need a little bit of time ..."

"Sure ... sure ... how much time?" he asked, still not convinced she was asking him to leave for good.

"I'll call you, ok?" she managed to say before her voice broke and betrayed her.

"Sure."

"Heeeeeeeeeey, Castle!" a voice called and he turned around, startled. He hadn't realized that he had sat down in the chair near Beckett's desk nor had he realized that he had been so deep in thought that Esposito had called him for the third time in a row.

"Hey Sito, it's good to see you!" he managed to get out, still coming around from the memory he had escaped into.

"Likewise, Castle, likewise. How's life been?" Esposito asked, tentatively. He knew that without the regular trips to the precinct and without seeing Kate Beckett on a regular basis, Castle's life must have been far from being exciting.

"Could bet better," the author replied, "uh, where is Ryan?"

"Running errands for the new boss," Esposito sighed.

Oh yeah. Sure. Montgomery was dead. They must have assigned a new captain to the 12th ...

"Mr Castle?"

TBC