"I am glad you came to see me, Rick." Martha had suggested to Castle that she should see doctor Burke, that it would help him cope with the loss of the woman he loved. He had always dismissed her suggestions and had refused to call him. Dr. Burke was aware of this, as Martha had called him numerous times for advice, but he was only mildly surprised to see the writer sitting on his sofa. He leaned back into the chair, waiting for the writer to talk to him. In his sessions with Kate he had come to know a significant amount of things about him and, more importantly, about his relationship with Kate Beckett. It was thus that he was not surprised seeing the grief and even guilt etched into the writer's face. More to his surprise, however, was the immense look of distraught and confliction that was in his eyes. His eyes lingered on the crumpled piece of paper in Rick's hand that he impulsively seemed to crumple, unroll, twist around his fingers, read and crumple again.
"Rick?" The psychiatrist inquired and the writer seemed to wake up from thought with a shock. He glanced back for a moment at the paper before putting it down on his lap, tearing his eyes away from it. When he finally lifted his eyes to the man sitting in front of him it seemed to take an immense amount of effort.
"I don't know what to do." He finally croaked out. Sounding utterly helpless, confused and desperate. Once again he stroked the paper, glanced down at it and flinched when he seemed to read something.
"Do what?" Dr. Burke leaned forward slightly, watching as the man in front of him, the writer that usually found words without looking for them, struggled to put anything into words. Castle shook his head and stretched over the couch with his nails.
"Hypothetically…" The started, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "What do you do if someone you love begs you to do the exact opposite of what your heart tells you?" He croaks out the words, suddenly turning his gaze towards the man. His eyes dull with grief, but filled with something fresher: confusion and almost frustration. "What do you do then?" He adds almost on a whisper. Instinctively unrolling the letter once again and focusing on it without looking at dr. Burke again.
"is this about your daughter? Your Mother?" Martha had called up Burke numerous times, telling him about the behavior that Castle had developed since Kate's death. Him feeling conflicted about chasing her murderer and letting it go was understandable. He had seen it all before.
"No." Castle shook his head, surprising the psychiatrist. The writer took a shaky breath again to steady himself and sat up, looking at the man in front of him. "It's about Kate."

However much Castle's answer surprised dr. Burke, he didn't flinch. Simply leaned forwards and let his eyes wander to the letter and back to Castle's eyes. "What does Kate have to do with this Rick?" He inquired patiently. Castle suddenly moved his arm and handed the man in front of him the letter with a shaky hand.
"She… send me a letter." He breathed out, averting his eyes to the statue standing on the table next to the couch. Dr. Burke placed the letter on his lap but made not a move to open it. "Rick. What is in it? I need you to tell me." He calmly but steadily told him. Castle shook his head, swallowed and sighed.
"She send me a letter." She repeated. "To tell me she is alive." He croaked out. His brow furrowing in something that was almost confusion, as if he couldn't understand why she would to such a thing to him. Perhaps he was still in denial, but he wasn't sure of what exactly. "She told me she was alive." He repeated, as if he himself still had trouble understanding. "And she begged me not to go looking for her." He covered his face with his hand for just a second. Perhaps in an automatism, perhaps to prevent stray tears from finding his cheeks. "How can she expect me to do that? She never could do it herself." He gritted his teeth, something that was frustration, almost anger laced through his voice. His fists were balled up into the fabric of the couch as the sensations of everything he had tried to bundle up since he got the letter overwhelmed him. Because he had tried to listen to her, he honestly had tried to forget that she was still somewhere out there, but every night when he closed his eyes he could almost hear the words she wrote. He could never forgot that somewhere she was alive, so close and yet so far away, and that she was loving him. "How can she tell me that and expect me to just… be okay with it?!" When his eyes found Dr. Burke's again they were filled with a deep powerless rage, nurtured by the grey of the grief that was ever present.

"Did she tell you why?" dr. Burke hadn't known Kate Beckett very long, but he knew things about her that she didn't show easily. He knew that she cared for the man sitting in front of him deeply, and that if what he told her was true, there would be a reason.
Castle nodded, trying to time the sudden wave of rage that had passed over him. Almost ashamed of the way he couldn't bring himself to understand. She knew he wouldn't forgive her, she was right, but she had thought he would understand. He couldn't even do that. "It's in there." He gestured to the letter. The letter that had been his lifeline ever since she send it to him and that he suddenly wanted to get away from as far as possible. The psychiatrist looked up at the writer and opened the letter slowly. Giving the writer the chance to take it from him. Castle only nodded. The feeling of having to read about the threats again making him nauseous. He had read the letter uncountable times since she sent it to him, but he skipped that part almost always. Maybe he didn't even want to understand, because the feeling of what could have happened, could still happen, to Kate Beckett made everything worse.

Dr. Burke silently read the letter, neatly folding It afterwards as far as possible with all the creaks. He didn't speak, simply waited for Castle to say something. For a moment they sat in silence, before Castle finally swallowed and whispered, his voice laced with the desperation he couldn't hold back anymore. "What do I do? I can't walk away. She can't expect me to." Familiar words, but this time spoken not with anger or resentment, he truly didn't know what to do anymore. Her being death would mean losing her once, letting her go, meant losing her every time he blinked and decided to try and forget her. He wasn't sure he could handle that.
"Why can't you?" dr. Burke inquired again. His eyes resting on the distraught man in front of him. "Why can't you let her go?"

"Because she loves me." Castle's words came out flat. Where his voice had been filled with every emotion imaginable before, it was completely devoid of anything now. It was a mere statement, only bearable when treated as one. He shook his head and covered his eyes with his hands. Unable to handle any more questions. He just wanted an answer, he wanted someone, anyone, to tell him what to do, because he didn't know it anymore.

"Rick?"
He didn't answer.
"Do you love Kate Beckett?"

The question caught him off guard. The only thing that seemed to have been standing firm through all the storms was now being questioned. The one thing that he himself had always been sure about. He should have replied immediately that he loved this woman to the end of the world and back, but he couldn't. He did love her, of course, but saying it didn't come with ease like it had when he had written the dedication to her. As if he already tried to lock it up again where neither of them would ever find it. He couldn't say it, could only bring himself to nod.

Of course he loved Kate Beckett.
He loved her so much it would end him.

The lights of the morgue suddenly seemed to make Lanie Parish more uncomfortable by the way. The place where she had strived to find the truth, was now the place of the biggest lie she had ever told anyone. Telling everyone that her friend Kate Beckett was gone had put a strain on her heart like she had never felt before, she couldn't even imagine the things Ryan, Esposito and Castle must be feeling. Lanie hadn't been keen on helping Beckett fake her death at all. Not only the idea of losing her, but also having to lie about it to their friends had at the time already been an awful idea. She had thrown every bit of reason in, every suggestion for another plan until she found herself shouting at her friend that she couldn't expect her to do this.

It was only after Kate had broken down on her couch, sobbing about how sorry she was for everything, about how she wished she didn't have to ask this and about how she would never get over Castle being hurt because of her, that Lanie had agreed. Agreed to lie to keep the people she and Kate loved most dearly safe. They were safe, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Didn't lessen the guilt even a bit.

She flinched when the doors to her morgue suddenly opened. She usually didn't expect the living this late in the evening, especially not now Kate was gone and it couldn't be her barging in complaining about her awful date. She reached out to pick up the closest instrument but halted when she heard a barking voice.
"Don't even think about … doing whatever that thing does." The male voice resonated in the morgue and Lanie heard the pounding of footsteps coming towards her. Before she could ask or scream she felt something pushing against her throat. Felt a breath near her ear that made shivers run down her neck.

"Call Kate Beckett. I have something to tell her."

Uh oh...
See you in, what, two weeks? Going to Rome tomorrow!