This story is dedicated in loving memory of my oldest cousin, Joe Roger F. Joe took his own life, leaving behind a devastated family looking for answers to questions we didn't even know how to ask. There is a stigma to suicide—if someone dies from cancer or a heart attack the people left behind understand there was little they could do to help them. But suicide is different. What if….? Why didn't I know? It leaves you grieving and wondering where everything went wrong. For my part, writing this story helped, in a small way. Thank you for reading it.

The interior of the cabin was deathly quiet. No lights were on, but it was sunny enough outside that none were needed. A chill hung in the air. Wherever she was, she'd not bothered to turn on the heat.

He paused, closed his eyes and sent up a prayer. That she was ok. That he wasn't too late. That he wasn't about to open a door and find her blood spattering the walls. No matter what he found here, it was going to alter his life forever. He just hoped it would be for the better.

Eyes reopened, he peered into the half shadows cast from the windows. He was in a cozy living room, fireplace cold and dark on his right. To his left was a table for four, and past it a small kitchen. Noticing scattered packages on the table, he moved there first.

A small white paper bag held a bottle of Lortab, which he remembered from Derrick Storm research to be a powerful painkiller. Shaking hands struggled to open the bottle, but he breathed a sigh of relief when all the pills appeared to be there. Maybe Lanie was wrong. Maybe she'd just come up here to try to heal—just as she'd done after her shooting.

A receipt caught his eye, crumpled next to the bag. Picking it up, he saw it was from a Walmart just north of Albany. Only one item was listed. Brow furrowed, he shook his head. He'd no idea what she wanted with a garden hose, though perhaps she planned to stay long enough to grow some vegetables? It was time stamped for 3 a.m., so she must have driven up last night. It seemed like an odd item to buy in the middle of the night...that is, unless…

A cold sweat broke out on his skin as he contemplated just what she could do with a hose. Her car outside had been empty—he'd have noticed if she'd been in it, or if a hose was stretched to the window. There was no heat on in the cabin, so there was no use for the hose here. Unless there was another building that he'd not seen—one with machines containing combustible engines. No, he had to assume she was here and hadn't done anything yet. Assume he was jumping to the wrong conclusion, once more. He never guessed right when it came to her—a lesson he should have learned by now.

Setting it all down, he glanced around the open space again. There was an opening on the wall furthest from the front door that led to a darkened hall. Walking through, he saw that there were 4 doors, all closed, off this gloomy hallway. No light peeked under any of the doors; she could be behind any of them. Or none. Choosing the nearest, he took a deep breath and yanked it open.

Bathroom tile gleamed faintly at him. It was small, tidy, and thankfully empty. The next door down to the right revealed a tight bedroom housing a queen sized bed. If he'd had to guess, this would be the master, as there were some pictures of the Beckett family staring back at him. This room was empty as well.

Moving back to the first door left of the bathroom, he started to open it, then paused. She'd be in her bedroom, he could feel it. And this room, so close to the master and in the middle of the house wouldn't be the bedroom she'd have chosen. She'd take the last one on the hall, furthest from her parents.

He walked to the final door, legs trembling and pulse pounding. She'd be ok. She had to be ok. Grasping the door knob, he twisted it open. As his eyes adjusted to the brighter light spilling in through thin sheers draping two walls, he saw her. She was curled up under a quilt on the bed, hair spreading around her like a dark pool.

There was no blood. No obvious injury. He nearly sobbed in relief, legs threatening to collapse as he drank in the sight of her. Was she sleeping? He took a faltering step, then another. A vision of Sleeping Beauty tumbled about his brain. He was no Prince, able to kiss away the curse that coursed through her blood.

But, kissing her was suddenly all he could think of. They were meant to be: he'd arrived in time, and they'd have their happily ever after. He just had to prove his love by tasting her ruby red lips. She'd wake up, they'd finally talk, and everything would be fine.

He didn't know about the loose floorboard, of course. It squeaked a loud protest as he took his final step to the bier his princess lay upon. He winced, and hoped it wouldn't rouse her. But that proved to be a foolish wish, as her eyes flew open and the fairy tale he'd imagined turned back into a nightmare as she screamed and somehow punched him, simultaneously.

Kate was dreaming. She and Rick were walking, hand in hand, following the unsteady steps of a curly-haired toddler along a beach. She felt safe, and warm and loved. So, when the loud squeak of the loose floorboard next to her bed rent through the air, she screamed. She didn't want to leave the wonderful world of her fantasy.

The realization that someone was looming over her was almost as disturbing. She reacted purely from instinct, striking a blow at her attacker. A muffled curse was followed by a hasty retreat that she barely noticed as a fresh wave of pain erupted from her lower abdomen. Twisting in bed to hit someone was apparently not on her list of allowed activity.

Eyes shut, she clutched her wound and concentrated on riding out the swell of agony. Ever so slowly it began to fade and awareness of her surrounding grew once again.

"Beckett? Kate? Are you ok?"

A pulse of blackness swept through her. His voice. His scent. The feel of his presence. It was all too familiar. She would have preferred to be assaulted by a cabin-stalking murderer. Anyone but him.

"Kate? God, Kate, I was so worried about you."

She'd obviously slept far too long for him to be here. And now she couldn't do anything until she got rid of him. Her plan unraveling, she felt like crying. Why was it that the universe seemed to be conspiring against her in every way?

"Kate, please. Please look at me."

His voice had an odd timbre to it—a plaintive note that made it sound as if he really cared. She knew better, of course. Though, the question of exactly why he was here and what he wanted from her needed to be answered. She opened her eyes again.

He was crouching just out of arm's reach from her bed. Backlighting from the window prevented her from seeing his expression, though his voice sounded concerned. Her main thoughts were that he was going to interrupt her planned schedule. She had to get him to leave, as soon as possible.

"What are you doing here, Castle?" Her voice was flat, emotionless. Harsh.

"I came to find you. Make sure you're ok." He remained crouched down near the far wall, voice soft. Soothing.

"Well, you found me. As you can see, I'm fine. Or close enough," she grimaced as her lower abdomen protested her sitting up. She ignored it as best she could and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "You've done your duty."

He stood, towering over her in the small bedroom. Irritated with feeling so small, she stood as well. Gingerly. With no further outcries from her incision, she started for the door. She assumed he'd follow.

He did.

"Thanks for stopping by. If you leave now, you should have daylight most the way back to the City." Making her way into the living room, she was shocked to see how late in the day it was. How had she slept so long?

"I'm not leaving. Not yet. We need to talk."

She halted, head bowed. The man did nothing but talk. She felt time rushing through her fingers and she wanted to cry again. If he were here now, could others be far behind?

"Please, Kate. Talk to me. We've—I've—spent so much time not talking. Look where it's gotten us."

She nodded, accepting that he wouldn't leave without first saying what he needed to say. She sat down, slow, deliberate motion creating less protest within her aching body. He stared at her, a surprised look on his face after she'd agreed without arguing. Seating himself on the end of the couch nearest her chair, his fingers twitched towards her. She recoiled without thinking, and his hand drooped back to his side. Had he really wanted to hold her hand? Surely she'd been mistaken.

"You're probably wondering how I got here so fast?"

She was. She did.

"Lanie came to see me this morning. We all thought you were still in the hospital." She should have known. Lanie never could believe that Kate just needed to be left alone. "You need to know, Kate, I had no idea. I would've come, had I known." His voice broke, but it didn't affect her. She'd rebuilt most of her walls while lying alone after surgery. He could grieve all he wanted to—she was done with hers.

A sharp nod from her seemed enough for him. If only that were all he'd come for…but she wasn't so fortunate.

"Lanie said…well, she's worried about you. Everyone is. She thought you might do something….like out of grief. She thought you might be suicidal. But you're still here. You're not going to kill yourself, are you? It can't be that bad."

She wasn't expecting that question, but her mask was firmly in place. He couldn't have read her expression, and she might have fooled him too but for one fatal error: he'd snuck his hand over hers as he spoke. Somehow, he felt it. She watched as his eyes opened wider and his grip clamped down on her hand. Her escape had just been cut off.

"You…Kate? God, Kate, not that. Not that." He turned his head away and wiped his eyes with his free hand while she watched as though from a perch high above. Nothing would get to her, not here. Not him.

Yet, despite that distance, when he swung his head back he captured her effortlessly with his gaze, steely intensity boring steadily into her walls. She was pinioned.

"Where's your gun?" he growled. She felt the bond loosen. He'd leapt to the wrong conclusion.

"Didn't bring it," she muttered back. It was the truth. It was locked up in the gun safe in her apartment, as far as she knew.

His eyes bored into hers, and she felt the band tightening again. "The pills on the table?"

"I got them from the hospital," she protested. Another truth on her side, though he didn't need to know she was saving them for later.

"You're in pain, but none are missing. Why haven't you taken any yet, Kate?"

He'd looked in the bottle? Still, she had an answer. "I was driving. And I don't like how they make me feel. I hate taking medicine, you know that." She relaxed, the chain loosening once more.

It was a trap, and she fell neatly into it.

"You wouldn't have brought them if you didn't plan on taking them. You left your gun at home, why bring pills that you weren't gonna use?"

She sat, tense and incapable of speech. If he'd seen the pills, had he seen the…

"You stopped at a Walmart. Bought a garden hose. At three in the morning. Now, what on earth do you need a garden hose for at that time of day?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as everything shattered around her. She bowed her head and sobbed, so loud she couldn't even hear the rest of his speculation. Then everything shifted, both outside of her and in as he pulled her up and into his lap. She felt another barrier come down as she melted into his embrace. He was warm and solid, and she felt protected for the first time in, well, years.

"You were going to use the hose in the car, weren't you?" he asked as he stroked her hair once her weeping had quieted.

"Yes," she hiccupped. "And the pills. Wanted to be sure."

"Oh, Kate. Why? Why would you do that to yourself? To everyone?"

She stiffened and tried to sit up. He wanted to know why, but not for himself. What was he doing here, anyway?

"You have no right to ask me that."

He pulled her back to his chest, her weakened state no match for his strength.

"I have every right. I love you. I have every right to ask."

She let the words sink in. She'd heard him, but they made no sense.

"You lo—love me? Why did you start avoiding me? I thought you hated me."

She felt him sigh, his breath ruffling her hair as she leaned against the support of his broad chest. If only this could all be real. If only she could believe in it.

"Yeah, well I thought you didn't love me. I heard you, you know."

She shook her head, confused.

"When you were interrogating Bobby, during the bombing case. I came in late to the precinct and you were already there, questioning him. I was in the observation room, admiring how good you are at your job. And then you said it. The words that pierced my chest, killed me on the spot."

She thought furiously about what she'd possibly said all those weeks ago that could have led to such a disaster for the two of them, when it finally came to her. Oh, God.

"You said that you remembered everything after your shooting. Everything. Which meant you knew how I felt about you. But then you lied to me, when I came to see you. And I just knew that meant that you didn't feel the same way. That you didn't want to tell me because it'd hurt me. So, you let me follow you around like a pathetic fool with nothing better…"

She wrested free of his embrace, sitting up so she could look in his eyes. "No! No, Rick. I didn't lie to you because I didn't love you. I lied to set you free."

His eyes were hooded, difficult to read. But for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw hope.

"To set me free? I don't understand."

"Yes. Don't you see? I'm broken. I'm a fucking mess. Everyone I've ever been close to has been hurt. I didn't want you to have to deal with it all. It's not fair. But I wanted to, oh, I wanted to. I just couldn't let you in when I was such a…a shattered soul. So, I started working with a therapist. Trying to get better for you. For us."

She reached out and traced his jawline with one finger, a careful caress to cement her words within him. He shut his eyes and heaved a sigh.

"So, you…you…like me? Some?"

"I don't like you, Rick." His eyes flew open, surprise and hurt now easily seen as she watched. Lightness began to grow within her—something that had been missing for weeks. She smiled at him, pouring some of her feelings into her expression. "I love you. I have for a long time. Longer than I want to admit to."

He smiled back, and more of the barriers between them dropped. But his smile slowly faded as she observed him, and darkness started to creep back inside.

"You love me, but you've planned to kill yourself, Kate. Help me understand. Please."

She couldn't look at him and speak at the same time, so she leaned against his chest again. His support enabled her to explain, as far as she could.

"I do love you, I do. But look what's happened. Everyone I love has been hurt. My mom, my dad. Roy. I survived my mom's murder, but I was still living in the shadows. You came along and lifted me out, reminded me about how wonderful the world could be."

She stroked his chest and imagined they were lying in bed, a couple in every sense. This was probably as close as she'd ever be to such a fantastic dream.

"I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared. Then, it all snapped the night you called me, drunk. I couldn't wait anymore. And it was wonderful—but you didn't say anything…weren't even there the next day. And when you came back, it was like you couldn't stand to stay in the same room."

He groaned, a deep and frustrated sound. "I honestly thought I'd just had a very realistic fantasy. I dreamt of you pretty much every night, anyway. And I couldn't face you after that. Every time I was in your presence, all I wanted to do was grab you and pull you into the nearest closet. You drive me wild, Kate, and I have trouble controlling myself."

Oh.

Oh! So different from what she'd imagined. She felt like crying; they'd been so stupid. "We were such fools, weren't we?"

"Yes, but we're here now, aren't we? We're here now, and it's not too late."

She wanted to embrace his words, believe in them, but there was still more to discuss. A lot more.

"I was going to make you listen to me. I wanted to just start over, but then the bombing case happened and it was all hands on deck. No time for us to talk, so I thought, ok, Kate, you'll talk to him when we're finished. Figure it all out, then. I'd put in the work and felt I was ready. But, you pulled away. I know why, now, but it was devastating at the time."

She felt his head nodding, stroking her hair.

"I couldn't figure out why you were so cold to me; so different. We finished the case, and I was just gonna go for it, lay it all out. And you—you—."

"I went to Vegas and tried to forget you. I was determined to get you out of my mind, but it didn't work. Nothing I did—drinking, dating others—nothing worked."

"I fell back into that hole when you showed up with Jacinda. I knew you said you'd loved me, months earlier. Thought we'd agreed to wait while I got straightened out. I just—just saw that you were done waiting. That I wasn't worth it anymore."

A sob choked out, and he held her tighter.

"I was so angry at you, I tried to do anything I could to show you that I was over you. That I knew you didn't love me, so I was done trying to impress you. I felt like I'd been played like a fool. Turns out, the only fool was me."

"You said she was 'fun' and 'uncomplicated' when I asked about her, do you remember? Those two words cut me to the core. Two things I'll never be. I knew then that I'd never have you in my life. That it was over."

"Oh, Kate. She was so boring. Most of the time my mind kept drifting back to you, and I'd do something stupider trying to forget again. But she was never more than a distraction. She wasn't you."

"I just want to forget about her. I hated the sight of her. Kept imagining—well, I didn't have any right to tell you what to do, but it drove me insane thinking about the two of you."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"I might've gotten through it, eventually. Not intact, but functional. But then…then…"

She couldn't say it, even now. A keening wail tore through her, as Rick rocked her in his arms.

"Don't you see? I'm so damaged I can't do anything right. I even killed our…our baby. No one should be around me. So, I'm gonna make sure the pain stops. That I can't hurt anyone, anymore. I just want it all to stop, can't you see?"

"Kate, it wasn't your fault. Not at all. And that's not how it works. You're in the vortex of it and can't see your way out, but think of the carnage you'd leave behind."

She flinched, his words wounding her. "What do you mean? You'd all go on, live happy lives without me here to bring you down."

"Do you really think that I'd be happy after you died? I love you, Kate Beckett. If I have to live without you, then the rest of my life will be a shadow of what it would be with you still in it. What about your dad? Or Lanie? The boys? How could we be better off with you gone from our lives? It makes no sense."

She shook her head, still unable to understand his point.

"You're in this moment, and I know it's been so overwhelming. You've been alone, and you can't see past it, but I'm telling you, there will be other moments. Good moments. Great moments. And some sad, too, but that's life. It goes on and on and we get to ride it out, but it's never flat. It never just stays down. You'll come up again. I'll help you."

"I'll just drag you down again. I'm an anchor. A giant anchor."

"You do this, and I'll have to live with it forever. Your life ends, but mine will go on. It'd be part of my day, every single day, can't you see that? I'd have to answer my own questions, like 'why wasn't I good enough to prevent this?' and 'what did I do that made you do this?' There is nothing great about suicide, and the impact goes on and on and on. Life will get better, I promise you. You have to know that."

"But I'm so broken, Rick. Now more than ever after the baby. You can't want me in your life like this. I can't let you."

He pushed her up and caressed her cheek as he looked her in the eye. She could finally read his without any struggle.

"Kate, loving someone isn't contingent on whether they're happy, or healthy, or whatever. I love you for who you are, not what you're doing. I love your dedication, your empathy, your intelligence. If you love someone, it doesn't matter if they're depressed or angry or grieving. You just love them. And I love you, so deeply. Unequivocally, irrevocably. I'm yours."

Light suffused her, driving away the last of the dark as she drank in the love and happiness that he'd brought into her. She felt her soul lift and take flight, shedding the chains she'd weighed it down with for so long. He leaned in and kissed her, and she surrendered the last grip she'd had on her doubts and anxiety. With him by her side, she could go take a step forward.

He ended the kiss, but rested his forehead on hers. She felt warm and protected; safe. Just as in her dream.

"I won't be easy, you know that, right? I'll have to do more work, to make sure I don't end up here again. It might take a long time."

He kissed her again, a quick kiss that implied both love and support, then slid her off his lap and stood up, hand reaching down for hers.

"I can wait, Kate. No matter what you need. And in the end, we'll both know how far we've come. That we hit the bottom and fought our way back up. That's worth a lot, don't you think?"

She sat, quiet for a second as she thought about all that had happened since he'd called her that night. Then she lifted her head and smiled up at him as she took his hand.

The end.

Thank you for sticking around to the end. While it's tempting to keep going and picture the events after this point, I felt this was a perfect place to stop. They're finally on the same page, they're communicating, and while Kate needs a lot of therapy, a happy ending is plausible at this point. However, I promised aussiecate double rainbows, so insert them here:_.

Some of the language that Rick uses in this chapter to describe how he'd feel if she were to take her life was inspired by a very powerful interview that I listened to while writing this story. It was an interview of Robin Bailey, a radio star from Brisbane, Australia, whose husband, Tony Smart, killed himself in 2014. He left behind his wife and 3 sons. The interview was conducted some months later, and is absolutely striking at how frank she is about the subject and how his death has affected her and her children. I greatly admire her courage and her openness in discussing this terrible event.

I would like to thank every person who PM'd me and told me about their own struggles with depression and suicide. It was an honor and a privilege to hear from both those who went through it personally and those whose immediate family members struggled with it. It's a difficult subject, and many people simply do not understand how profoundly severe depression leaches away your coping skills and how it affects your very thought process. This story attempts to describe this spiral. It was always about the journey that Kate took, and I'm proud that the people who've been in similar circumstances as Kate was shared with me that I got the feeling and mindset right.

The pregnancy and subsequent loss was not a huge focus, but clearly had a profound impact on her mental health. For those wondering about ectopic pregnancy, she will still be fertile in the future. It is a very grave diagnosis, for if not caught in time can lead to death through hemorrhagic shock. If properly addressed, then very little impact is expected on the future ability to conceive. Pregnancy loss is a devastating event, in and of itself. I heard from a few who'd suffered through it, including someone who suffered an ectopic pregnancy. Such strong people in our fandom, it is amazing.

Finally, thank you to all who stuck with me through this. It's not an easy subject to read about, and I know there were times that made you wonder where I was going with everything. I'm traveling all day again on the day that I publish this final chapter, so won't be able to respond to messages, but I certainly appreciate all the support and words of encouragement that I've received. Thanks especially to the people on twitter who propped me up one difficult night: ladies and gent, you're the bomb.