Hi all! Hope you are having a great weekend! Thanks for all the follows, alerts and reviews! You guys are awesome! Keep 'em coming and I will, too. If you all want a visual to go with the Richard Castle room description, go to Google. (Images and "Richard Castle bedroom" should do it.) Had to take a few liberties, but hey…gotta say: I loved the moment I realized that was an elephant in that photo, so that's where the detailed description stems from.

Chapter 34 – Vertigo

Kate turned her key in Castle's door without hesitation. Alexis was off at Six Flags and Martha was in New Haven for the weekend to visit her sister. If Rick was sleeping like she hoped, she'd just check on him and go. If it was something more, she'd stick around for a bit to make sure he didn't need anything.

Since Castle wasn't sprawled on the couch, and there was no light coming from his office, Kate ducked under the stairs toward Castle's room. In all the time she'd spent at Castle's loft, the most she'd ever seen of Castle's room was through a few inches of the cracked open door, which was enough to tell her that the hardwood floors extended into his room and, based on the natural light, there were windows. Being that the loft was in the corner of the building and she's seen the same thing in all three of the rooms upstairs, this was no surprise.

Castle's door was open, so she peeked in. The bed was not along the opposite wall, where she expected to find it. Instead, this wall had a floor to ceiling black and white image of a large tusked elephant walking next to a smaller baby elephant. Each pressed forward, with the large "daddy" elephant's ears out and alert, while the baby elephant playfully tugged at the tall grass beside her. Hard to miss the symbolism there, Castle. Looks nice, though.

Kate turned to her left to take in the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, just like in his office. It was opposite the bed, and considering the gadget man that Rick was and figuring him to be the type to watch TV while in bed, she expected to find a TV centered along the wall. But there were no electronic gadgets, just books, a few bookends, a small sculpture, a couple vases, a bonsai tree, and a really interesting metal motion sculpture similar to what she'd seen during a museum visit a couple of years ago.

Then, off to the right at chest level, Castle had his own family of elephant figurines, with the rolled up dollar bill tucked in the first one's trunk. Castle's were metal, though, and very masculine. Of course, Kate thought, no wonder he's so interested in the elephants on my desk. He knew. So many times she'd had to stop him from playing with them. Hers were delicate, decorative…a gift from her grandmother when she made detective. They were supposed to bring good luck and fortune. I wonder how long Castle has had them?

Kate looked across the room, where Castle's bed was positioned between the two tall windows. Everywhere else the walls were a greyish taupe color that softened the dark greys and browns and the contrasting black and white photos, but between the windows, the wall was a metallic checkerboard design. She couldn't tell if it was tiled or not, but light reflected there.

Light also reflected off the ceiling, and for a moment when Kate looked up, all she could think was how tacky Castle was for having a mirror over his bed, but she quickly realized that it wasn't a mirror. Instead, two-thirds of the ceiling, from the elephant wall to the window on the right, was a covered in some sort of reflective drop-down ceiling—she imagined it was to cover pipes or wiring of some sort. The other window was two stories high and the wall that rose alongside it opened to his master bath and walk-in closet. It had built-in mantles spaced evenly up the length of the wall. Here, other decorative items, including another elephant, and a few plants resided.

Kate imagined Castle's bed would be made of solid wood; something dark, heavy, imposing…and impossible to miss, but his bed was literally softer than she'd pictured. It had a low-riding leather base and a matching, button-tufted chocolate leather headboard. She walked up beside the bed to peer at Castle who was hunkered under his designer comforter. Even in his sleep, the way he was curled up with the blanket tucked under his chin, Castle reminded her of a little boy.

If he'd had the same peaceful look she was used to seeing when she caught him napping or when he fell asleep on a stakeout or during a movie, Kate would have walked away, but that line was there, between his eyebrows, deeper than it should have been. Without thinking, Kate reached out. She allowed the edge of her thumb to just barely trace the vertical groove nestled above and between his eyes. She wanted to soothe it away, but didn't want to risk waking him. Before she fully withdrew, though, Kate felt the heat radiating from his forehead. Her feather light touch turned to concern; she traced the back of her hand along his brow and along his exposed cheek.

"Kate." Castle whispered her name so softly, she wasn't sure she'd heard it, but his eyes never opened and he never stirred. Between saying her name, his stressed look and the way he was cuddled under the blankets, Kate could have convinced herself he was just dreaming of the freezer. They both did. She knew that. But Castle had been acting odd all day—walking away, hand over his stomach, quiet and just generally subdued. Even though he tried to deny being sick, his fever gave him away.

Kate went to the laundry room cupboard where she knew the Castle family stored their first aid kit. She and Castle had needed it a time or two. No Tylenol there. Kate thought for a moment and decided to check the cupboards in the kitchen. That's where she kept hers. Slim cupboard. Some spices. Cupcake inserts. Toothpicks. Oh! Cough syrup, one of Martha's outdated prescriptions, Benedryl and Excedrin. Aha! Motrin! Kate took two and filled a glass with water.

Deciding it wasn't worth waking him up if he was sleeping well, Kate left the Motrin on his nightstand along with the glass of water. She was sure he would see it there, and if not, she could warn him before he made the effort himself. Knowing that he didn't feel well, she didn't plan to leave.

Kate considered calling Alexis, but didn't want to worry her if it wasn't serious. She also thought of calling Lanie to let her know what was going on, but she decided to wait a bit longer. She needed some alone time. She went to the living room and found the book she'd been reading the last time she was there, but she couldn't focus on the words in front of her.

Kate thought she'd spend the night lamenting the loss of a relationship that she'd spent hours analyzing. She even bought an expensive bottle of wine. Instead, she was questioning how well she really knew Josh and how she could have ever thought they had a chance? What was his true character? Was that what she saw tonight, or was that jealously and wounded pride? He'd never been jealous, except where Castle was concerned.

On the surface, she and Josh seemed like a logical pairing, but in practice, the constitution was all wrong. She'd certainly never felt that he was the one. Maybe she was closed off to him, but she also never felt the love he professed. Still, she wished things with Josh had gone differently. She didn't think they'd remain friends—they barely had time for one another while they were dating—but she had hoped for an amiable parting. Instead, it had been far too public for her tastes.

She bore him no ill will, except for the way he'd treated and embarrassed her friends. As for how he treated her, well…honestly, it was better than she expected. She was sure Josh would have an impassioned response to the breakup, but she never doubted that it had more to do with losing, than losing her. Josh had always had a confidence about him, not just in his abilities and looks, but also in the idea that he was a surefire catch. Of course, that kind of confidence can always be misinterpreted. Viewed from another angle, it's just cockiness.

She'd been prepared for him to lash out, and, really? He was tame compared to what she anticipated. The ride-along comment and basically calling her a whore was unexpected and completely uncalled for, but otherwise? Nothing he said surprised her. If she were in his shoes, she wouldn't have reacted so kindly. In fact, she wouldn't have hung around at all. She'd have just been done.

Kate heard Castle clamor out of his bed. It sounded like he hit something. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of the toilet seat clanking. In an instant, Kate was on her feet, hurrying to check on Castle. He was on his knees with his head bowed over the porcelain bowl. Each pitch forward was followed by that distinctive 'kerplunk.'

It hit her then, while Rick was hunched over the toilet bowl. It wasn't something she could fake or force or deny. She fought it, of course. She backpedaled. She bargained. Not like this. It's not supposed to be like this. But it had its own strength. It both pushed and pulled her forward. It drew her to him and she crouched at his side.

She felt pain in her chest as he retched. She had a strong stomach. She wished she could be sick for him. She brushed the hair from his temple, and then rested her hand on his back while he struggled not to dry heave. Her mind was occupied with concern for him, while somewhere it tallied all the ways he drives her insane and keeps her grounded. But if he keeps me grounded, why am I feeling the most intense sensations of vertigo I've ever experienced?

Kate tore some tissue from the roll and handed it to him. Castle wiped the putrid remnants of his half-churned lunch from his mouth and chin. He grimaced, half appalled, half grateful. But when his steel blue eyes to fully lifted to meet hers, it fully surfaced. Dear God! I'm in love with Richard Castle!

Maybe she realized it before. Maybe she didn't. But she'd never admitted it, never acknowledged it, and now, the intensity with which the emotion rushed through her had her momentarily struggling for air. She'd forgotten how to breathe. She fell back onto her butt, and scooted herself against the wall. She stared, wide-eyed at Castle, oddly aware of the cooler temperature emanating from the toilet that sat between them. She fought the irrational urge to cover her chest for fear that Castle could see what was gripping her there.

Neither spoke, until finally, it occurred to Kate that she should get him water to rinse his mouth out. She started to move and Castle spoke.

"What are you doing here, Kate? You shouldn't be here. I don't want you to get sick."

"I wanted to check on you. I'm going to get you some water." Kate stood and walked the few steps to the night stand. She grabbed the water and the Motrin. She handed them both to Castle, who took each without compliant. Castle seemed shocked and drained and hadn't thought to flush the toilet, so she did.

"Oh my God, Castle! Is that blood? How long's this been going on?"

"You should go, Beckett."

"You don't stop being my partner just because you're sick. Answer me."

"You don't need to see me like this, and I don't want you to get sick."

"So? You've seen me at my worst. You're sick. It happens. Have you been to the doctor?"

"No. I'm fine, and whether you want to believe it or not, I am quite capable of getting by on my own. Even managed to raise another human being. You should leave."

"Where's this coming from?"

"Oh, what? You'd let me stay while you puked your guts out? Hold your hair back?"

"Right. Like I've ever had any choice in whether you stay or go."

A litany of memories flooded her mind.

You have a fan. I'm flattered? He says he has to do research. Oh no. Oh yes.

Stay in the car. Stay down. Stay away from my mom's case.

There's something I need you to do. Name it. Go home. Forget it.

I was thinking...I was thinking maybe—I should go home. Get some rest. Long day.

I thought this would be our last case.

You're not going to go away no matter what I do, are you?

Oh no. I'm not leaving. I'm here to protect you.

L.A.

Whether or not she wanted him to stay or go or come along, it had always been on his terms. She had no control. She'd gotten the Angelica, but really, Castle wanted to go. Who did he think he was he kidding?

"You know what? It doesn't matter because you wouldn't need me. You have a doctor to—"

"Castle, it's not—"

"Just go, Beckett. You don't belong here."

"What do you know about where I belong?"

"How about with your boyfriend who hates me and who's flying to Timbuktu in the morning?"

"He doesn't hate you, Castle. He was going to apologize to you tonight."

"Oh, so he was going to apologize for my temper? You're right. He's a real upstanding guy. Good man, you've got there, Beckett. Very noble."

"Castle, I know you—I was wrong. I know you don't need his apology, but would you accept mine already?"

"Fine. Apology accepted. Now go."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"I need you to leave!"

"No."

"Please, just get out."

"I'm not leaving."

"Out. Out of my bathroom."

"Castle, I'm not leaving you here alone."

"My, God, woman! Let me shit in peace!"

Castle forcibly pushed her through the door before slamming it in her face. Kate stood stunned on the other side, incredibly embarrassed about fighting with him. It never even occurred to her that she was preventing him from engaging in a very urgent, very basic bodily function.

Kate remained immobile for a moment longer, replaying what was said, wondering how much of it stemmed from hurt and anger and how much of it was more of an involuntary visceral response? Another couple of moments passed before Kate realized she was standing right outside the door listening to Castle blow the toilet out and, frankly, smelling his loose dregs. She left his room before she further embarrassed each of them.

Blood. Kate grabbed her phone.

"Lanie, he's bleeding!" Kate said, before Lanie even had a chance to say hello.

"Who's bleeding? Castle? What'd you do to him? Did Josh follow you?"

"What? Yes. No. What?"

"Who's bleeding, Kate?"

"Castle. There's blood in his vomit. And that's definitely not good, right?"

"Girl, I'm gonna skip over the 'why are you inspecting Castle's vomit?' part, and ask is it a lot of blood?"

"No, not really, I guess. What's a lot? I mean, it's a noticeable amount."

"So, you're sure it's blood and you're not overreacting?"

"Well, it's not pasta sauce! I see blood and gross stuff all the time, Lanie."

"Yeah, but typically not coming out of someone you care about. So, it's a lot of blood?"

"Well, it's not just a few stringy lines, but it's not bucket loads, either."

"Is there anything else?

"Well, earlier today, he was clammy, but he didn't have a fever and when I got here, he was sleeping, but he had a fever. And he just got sick, less than ten minutes ago and then…"

"Then what?"

"Well, now he's sick on the other end."

"He has diarrhea?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Can't say it, Kate?"

"Yes…it's just…nevermind."

"Detective Kate Beckett afraid to say 'diarrhea.' Never thought I'd see the day."

"Lanie, that's just—"

"Diarrhea, Diarrhea. Diiiii-ar-RHE-A!." Lanie tried to make it through the whole thing as she sang it the tune of Mamma Mia!, but laughed pretty hard. Kate could hear Esposito in the background wondering what was going on.

"Really, Lanie? I'm surrounded by children," she muttered to herself. "Fine! He has diarrhea. Happy?"

"What the hell, Kate!" Castle walked into the living room.

"She's a doctor, Castle!"

"For dead people! Jesus, Kate! I'd think you of all people would understand a little about privacy!"

"Ask him how long this has been going on."

"And you should know when to call a doctor."

"How do you know I didn't? How do you know I don't have stomach cancer or some roto—?"

Kate dropped her phone. "Oh my, God! Castle, do you have cancer?" Her voice was rough at the news.

"What? No!"

"Then I'm gonna kill you!" Kate started after him, fully intending to inflict bodily harm.

"It was a rhetorical question, Beckett." Castle sidestepped putting the oversized chair beside the sofa between the two of them.

"I'm still here." The speaker phone button was somehow depressed upon landing. Kate threw a sofa pillow at Castle and scooped down to pick up the phone.

"I'll make it easy on you, Lanie. COD is strangulation with resulting asphyxia."

"Perlmutter's on. Besides, he's sick you're supposed to be nice to him. You could try—"

"Yeah, be nice to me."

"Am I on speaker?"

"Yes."

"Castle, how long you been sick?" Lanie's voice sounded even sharper via speaker phone.

Castle didn't answer he just crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at Kate.

"Castle, if you don't answer me, Ima smack you."

"I'll do it for you." Kate started walking toward Castle. He circled around the chair.

Kate started to follow him, but stopped and sat on arm of the chair and sighed. "Castle, please. Sit down. You look like hell. We've been worried about you."

Castle relented, and sank into the chair Kate was perched on. Castle leaned forward and a bit toward Kate to find a more comfortable position. Kate reached out and pulled him across the last couple of inches separating them, letting his head rest on her upper thighs while she rubbed his shoulders.

"How long have you been sick?"

Castle sighed, too. "I didn't start vomiting until I got home, and I've been alternating ever since."

"And the other? When did that start?"

Castle didn't answer.

"Rick?"

"Wednesday night."

"After dinner? Oh my—Alexis and Martha didn't get sick, did they?"

"No. Dinner was delicious, I swear, Kate, it had nothing to do with anything you made. I wasn't feeling great even before that."

"Kate cooked?"

"Later, Lanie."

"Anything else?"

Castle flushed. "Uh...can't I just take some aspirin and go back to bed?"

"Castlle, what else?" Kate asked.

"Let's just say it would seem I've had more than my fair share of the magical fruit."

"Gas, Castle. You have gas. Geez! What is it with you two?"

"How long have you had the fever?" Kate asked.

"Just tonight."

"Okay. Kate, give him something for that. Nothing with Ibuprophen, if his stomach's torn up, it'll only make it worse."

"I'm sorry, Castle. I'm making it worse. Lanie, I already gave him Motrin."

"It's okay, Kate. It's really more of a problem over the long-term. Just don't give him anymore. Tylenol's okay."

"Are you sure?" Kate asked.

"Are you an MD? Any pain, Castle? Actually, you know what? Nevermind. You need to go to the hospital, and they're just going to ask you all these same questions more than once."

"I can't go to the hospital. I'll just see my doctor on Monday."

"Castle, you're vomiting blood. You really need to go to the ED."

"Lanie, you couldn't have told me that when I first told you he was vomiting blood?"

"What? I wanted to know how bad it is. Castle, I hope you feel better. You should really take a stool sample."

"We're not taking a stool sample," the two responded together, disgusted.

"What? You have evidence bags and gloves. Might not have to wait as long at the hospital if you do."

"We'll take our chances," Kate said. "Castle, go change. We're going to the hospital."

"Kate, no. They have no respect for privacy. Kinda like you two. This has been the worst interrogation ever."

"Stop whining, Castle. You pick, we go to the ED or l call Alexis and ruin her trip."

Castle growled at her, but obliged and headed to his room.

"Take me off speaker."

"How serious is this, Lanie?"

"Blood in vomit's never good, and it's usually accompanied by abdominal pain or a burning sensation. There's no way to tell how serious it is without an evaluation. That's why you need to get him to the hospital. I have a good guess, but…"

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't want to speculate or worry you. Just find out for sure and then go from there."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"'Fraid not, Baby, but you got bigger problems."

"Like?"

"Josh."

"What do you mean?"

"He thinks you're still together—that this is just a misunderstanding, and you'll work it out."

"What?"

"Actually had the nerve to ask us out right if you and Castle were sleeping together and then proceeded to tell us that he knows you and what you want better than we do. And he knows you want him."

"What? Lanie. That's just all wrong."

"I know, Baby."

"I need this to be over."

"I know."

"But I have to stay with Castle."

"Um-hmm."

"I guess I can catch him before he goes to the airport. Clear the air."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, Lanie. We'll just be sitting there."

"I'll call you when we know something."

"You better."

"Thanks, Lanie."

"See ya, Girl."

Kate turned around to see Castle sitting on the stairs. His choice of attire was a testament to how bad he was really feeling. It was the most dressed down she'd ever seen him—at least for a public appearance. He wore navy lounge pants with two white sporty stripes down the sides and a white long sleeve tee with the Captain America shield where the breast pocket would have been. They made quite a pair, with him dressed down and her looking like a walking Ann Taylor ad.

"You don't have to come with me, you know."

Kate held out a hand to him and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, Castle." She stopped by the door and grabbed her keys. She glanced at him, he didn't have pockets, so she threw his wallet in her purse. She handed him his sunglasses and winked at him. "We can pretend we're there for me. I can limp my way in. Unless you have some of that fake blood handy?"

"It's sweet, but I don't think they'll buy it. Just promise me you won't call Alexis."

"I promise I won't call Alexis," Kate said, "until we know what's going on. And then, I promise I won't call her without telling you first."

They'd spent nearly two hours in the waiting room before someone came in and, for the first time that night, Castle was recognized. Kate would have ignored it if the man had simply recognized Castle, but by the third time he'd changed seats to make his way closer, Kate began to get upset. Castle was slouched down in his chair, sunglasses on, asleep, Kate thought. When it looked like his phone was pointed in their direction, Kate pulled her badge from her purse and positioned it on her belt. They did not need a repeat of last weekend. She was an officer of the law—she couldn't and wouldn't be stealing a phone on Castle's behalf. Her own phone was off, just like the signs posted around the ED said it should be. When the man looked up, she gestured to them.

"Best just to pretend he's not there. He's harmless, really. Just curious. Too nervous to approach, but wonders if he's right."

"How do you know?"

"He's searching on his phone, not pointing it at us. Plus, there's a security mirror over there. He's texting, but too polite to take a picture."

"Polite?"

"Well, if he tries to follow me into the bathroom, I'll reconsider."

"Castle, I didn't—"

"So flustered. Your blush is very becoming, Beckett." Her blush deepened.

"I'm going to go see what's taking so long."

Kate went to the window. She managed to convince the registrar that they were not doing their best to protect their patient's privacy if they continued to allow Richard Castle to wait in a very public waiting room. That she was fiddling with her badge the whole time she was speaking probably helped convince the front desk nurse to find him a spot to wait in their fast track area. She was pretty sure Castle wouldn't approve of her methods. Castle didn't mind paying for special treatment or using his name to help someone else, but she was sure he wouldn't do it for himself. If her badge helped get him home faster, so be it.

It was another hour before they were brought back to an official exam room. The only real improvement there was that Castle had a bed to rest on and the single chair in there was more comfortable than either of the other two she'd planted herself in thus far. A nurse came in to take Castle's blood pressure and weights and measures. She asked Castle all the same questions Lanie had asked, plus the standard questions about smoking, drinking and sexually transmitted diseases. Kate wondered if she shouldn't leave when it came to the more personal questions, but it was over before she determined one way or another.

It was after midnight before they ever even saw the doctor, who managed to ask almost all the same questions as the nurse. He ordered blood work, and before long, there was a tech there. Castle tried out every vampire joke he had on the man, but he never cracked a smile. "Tough crowd," Castle joked. As many times as he'd been in the bathroom, Kate was amazed he still wanted to joke.

Finally, around two in the morning, the doctor showed up with test results.

"Mr. Castle. I'm sorry to keep you and your wife waiting."

"Oh, we're not—"

"When can we go home?" Castle asked.

"Well, I'm afraid not tonight. You're dehydrated, so that's a concern, and, based on what you've told me, the acidity level in your stomach is higher than we'd like. We're going to give you something to help neutralize it and help with the nausea."

"Can't I get it and go?"

"Well, I'd rather keep you overnight, get you hydrated. Also, your blood pressure is higher than we'd like to see, so I want to test that again once your other symptoms are under control. Make sure it's not normally that high."

"It says here you're turning forty in a few weeks." Castle nodded. "That's when we start recommending annual prostrate exams. We can take care of that here if, you'd like."

Kate smirked as Castle reddened. "Can we not talk about this?"

"Well, it's not a test we need in order to provide appropriate treatment, but if you don't do it here, I really must insist that you schedule one with your regular physician. You should also get a stress test."

"Okay."

"Do you have a high stress job, Mr. Castle?"

"What? No. I'm a writer—about as low stress as you can get."

"Mr. Castle, you have gastritis, and I have to warn you, you're at very high risk for developing ulcers, if you don't have one already. You don't have the bacteria that normally produces these symptoms, so I can only assume that it's a combination of stress and diet. I'm quite certain that the spicy foods you had earlier were responsible for your body's aggravated response tonight, but while certain foods can cause that kind of reaction, stress is normally the underlying factor that presents the right conditions for food to become such a potent stimulant."

"Gastritis, huh?" Castle asked.

"If not at work, have you experienced stress in other areas of your life? A recent trauma maybe? Or a strained relationship? Kids gone wild?"

Castle didn't look at her. Didn't budge in her direction at all, but she knew. She had stressed him out. Hell, even Lanie knew. You're killing him, Kate. He actually looks unhealthy.

"No, there's nothing." Castle answered.

"Well, we're going to get you transferred. I want to give the meds some time to work, hopefully reduce some of the inflammation in your stomach lining, then we'll do an endoscopy tomorrow morning to check for ulcers."

The physician turned to Kate, who'd been silent all along. "You'll get discharge papers tomorrow, but the biggest thing you can do is watch his diet. Nothing spicy, nothing greasy, nothing acidic. That means limited alcohol and coffee, and you'll probably both be better off if you avoid foods that make him gassy. Oh, and try not to stress him out."

The doctor turned back to Castle. "Don't worry. Once your stomach lining repairs itself, you can go back your normal diet, just a more balanced version of it."

"Any idea how long that will be?" Kate asked.

"I'm recommending a good two months. Follow up with your regular doctor after that."

A nurse assistant showed up then to transfer Mr. Castle to an in-patient room and insisted he ride in the wheelchair, per hospital policy. They had him in a new room more quickly than they'd done anything else that night. His new nurse started him on a saline drip, to replenish his fluids, she said, and gave him Primperan intravenously to help with the nausea.

"You should go home." Castle said after the nurse left.

"I can't just leave you here, Castle."

"Sure you can. I'm a big boy. I'll be fine."

"You don't want to be here alone."

"Maybe not, but you don't have to be here."

"No, I need to know we're okay. And leaving you here alone would not be okay."

"We're good, Beckett. I've told you that."

"Rick, I don't want you to just say 'we're good,' I want us to actually be good. This week's been…awful, and I've missed you, us. And I'm sorry for screwing up, for being angry last weekend and then for being mad about my key and for accusing you of starting it."

"Beckett—"

"Please, Castle. It's hard enough. Just pay attention so I don't have to repeat myself."

"I do trust you, and I know you respect me and you'd defend me. And well, I know you don't like Josh and I've never seen him get worked about anything…except you. So I assumed that's what the fight was about—that Josh probably said something about me or our partnership…or us. I still don't know exactly what happened, but I know you didn't, uh, fight with him, so thank you." Then Kate laughed and poked his side. "You've demonstrated a level of restraint I didn't know you possessed."

"You should know by now, I'm much more subtle."

"Poker?"

"Yeah," Castle smiled and nudged her shoulder. "I mean unless someone's trying to kill you."

Kate dug into her pocket and pulled out her key. She pressed it into his palm. "Try to keep ahold of this, this time, okay?"

"Kate, are you sure? I mean, Josh was pretty—"

"Castle, Josh doesn't have any say in the matter. It's my apartment, my key. I want you to have it."

"If you're sure?" Kate nodded. "Thank you." They sat in silence for a bit, each lost in thought. Kate leaned forward to rest her head on the bed. She was aware that she was still holding Castle's hand, but she pretended not to notice. She was just starting to doze off when Castle squeezed her hand and withdrew his.

"You should probably go, spend some time with him. Surprise him with breakfast or something. I know I'd want a proper send off—something beautiful to help tide me over." Castle paused. "It's good what he does, you know? Not everyone has the capacity to face that heartbreak up close. To see those kids and know that for everyone you help, there are a dozens more you'll never even see—and Josh? He's not just throwing money at it. He's actually doing something."

"That's very kind of you, Castle."

"It's just…what I said earlier? It's not true. I mean, you could do worse, you know? But, really, you should go and see him before he leaves."

"I saw him earlier, Castle, and I'll catch him before he leaves. It's late anyway, and you should get some sleep."

"You, too. In a bed."

"I'm not sleeping with you, Castle, and I'm not leaving."

"I didn't go there, but you need sleep. You're exhausted. And I don't want him or you blaming me if things go south."

"Trust me, Rick, when things go south between Josh and me, it'll be all your fault." She meant to rib him, but she couldn't shake the seriousness in her tone. She hoped, if it came through, he would attribute it to lack of sleep.

Kate leaned back in her chair. She'd call Josh in the morning. It wasn't ideal, but he had to know they were done. Her head wasn't there though, it was wrapped up in thoughts of the man sleeping before her. When did I fall in love with him? And how did I not know? And did it happen all at once? She always thought she'd feel herself falling, that she'd know, because she would have thought about it first and given herself permission. She'd allowed herself to want him, to start getting comfortable with the idea of something more, but she'd never agreed to this!

Oh, these chapters are so long! This is my life. My poor neglected children… just kidding… kids and hubby are my life. And I'm lucky my hubby loves me. Seriously, today I slept in (after staying up reading your FFs 'til 3AM), balanced the checkbook and made lunch. My husband, on the other hand, mowed, cleaned out the shed, bathed the kids in the sprinkler, did the dishes, cleaned the bathroom, and did a load of laundry—all while I sat on my bum and wrote and rewrote. Actually…I guess you're lucky he loves me, too, or there's no way you'd be reading this right now!