"So how was your week, sweetie?" Castle was perched on the top of the made bed in the room he'd been sharing with Kate. She had gone to her original bedroom, the master with the ocean view and attached bathroom, to make her calls after they'd finished eating, and he had decided to make a call of his own.

"Not bad. Just a normal week, besides you not being here."

He smiled. "Well, that had better make a difference."

"Oh, not really," Alexis sighed dramatically, in an effort to torture him. "Although it has given me the opportunity to throw several wild parties."

"I'd better get home," he teased. "You're becoming more like your grandmother by the day. Have you talked to her lately? Is she back from her play yet?"

"No, apparently it's doing pretty well. She says she doesn't expect to be back until the end of next week. So she should be here by the time you're home."

"Goody. Just what I need." He imagined his mother piling on the questions about what had happened while he was away and what his intentions had been. He wasn't sure he'd know the answers to either of these questions, let alone want to share them. "Sorry we haven't really talked much. I've been a little preoccupied."

"It's okay. So have I. School, you know."

He nodded. "I do."

"So how is Detective Beckett?"

"Still insistent on my calling her Kate, but she's doing better."

"Good. I'm glad. It's a good thing you're doing, getting her away from everything."

He smiled a little sadly, because he was beginning to doubt that a little. "Well, I certainly thought so or I wouldn't have brought her here… but I'm not sure Dr. Parish agrees."

"Why not?"

"She's saying that I took her away from all the people who care about her. And that I'm letting her hide from the outside world."

"Isn't that what she wants?"

"Yes, but according to Lanie it isn't what she needs. And I'm inclined to agree with her. She's Kate's best friend, and she knows her pretty well."

"Well, so do you."

"I know I do, and I'm not sure I made the right call anymore." He'd been paying such close attention to Kate that he hadn't realized it, but the virtual lack of contact with the outside world had affected him as well. He really hadn't had any kind of extended conversation with anyone except Kate and occasionally Lanie since he'd been away, and now that he had fresh ears he was telling her everything. Granted, there wasn't much he held back from his daughter in general, but normally he probably would've put a little more thought into exactly how much he needed to tell her.

"Well, whether you did or you didn't, your heart was in the right place. And if you actually think it was wrong, just come home."

"I don't want to do that."

"Why?"

"Because she's happy here."

"Then how was taking her there not the right call?"

He sighed. He didn't really want or need to explain all of that right now. "It's… complicated," he said.

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

He smiled. "I'm sure you're right. Anyway, the main reason I called, besides to ask you how your week was going, was to see what your plans for this weekend were. You're more than welcome to join us here for a couple of days if you'd like."

"I actually have plans with Ashley tomorrow, and I have a test on Monday. Plus the weather's supposed to be bad, so I think I'll stay here."

"Fair enough. But if you change your mind, give me a call, okay?"

"I will."

"Good. Miss you, kiddo."

"I miss you too. Even though it is easier to get my homework done without you distracting me."

He grinned. "See, that sounds more like my daughter."

"Yeah, if you don't count the eyebrow piercing I'm pretty much the same."

He gaped at the phone for a second and then sighed. "Not funny."

"Huh, really? I'm amused."

"And mean."

"Yeah, well, you raised me," she teased. "I should go, a couple of my friends are coming over for movies and pizza, and they'll be here soon."

"Fine, go have a social life. I'll see you in a little more than a week. But I'm sure I'll talk to you before that. Call any time, okay?"

"I know. Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, sweetie."

"Tell Beckett I said hi."

"She's making a couple phone calls of her own right now, but I will tell her when I see her."

"Good. I'll talk to you later."

"Absolutely. Bye, sweetie."

"Bye."

He hung up, set his phone aside and took out his notebook, balancing its leather cover on his leg. He skimmed through the page he'd written most recently, refreshing his memory about the latest situation he'd gotten Nikki Heat into, and poised his pen above the page, ready to add to it.

But he found himself unable to focus on Nikki head. Instead he drew a line just beneath the block of writing that was already there and switched gears.

I know she's not telling me everything, he wrote, letting all his uncertainties flow out and onto the page. I know she has more going on inside than she wants to share. Lanie's right, I have to get her to talk to me, really talk to me, and not when she's still half-dreaming, but I'm afraid that if I push her too hard she'll completely shut me out again. Was it selfish of me to bring her here, away from everyone else that cares about her? Was I thinking about what would be best for her, or was I just thinking about what would make me feel the most like I was helping? She does seem happier, but I don't know if that's real or she's just compartmentalizing. I guess I'm just worried about her, and I don't think I'm going to stop being worried until after the hearing. But I do think that really talking about it, about everything, would help both of us. Maybe Lanie will help convince her of that. I think she's making progress, I'm just not sure if it's enough. I don't know if she'll be ready for the hearing when it finally rolls around.

Maybe Lanie and I are both overreacting. That's a possibility. It does feel like she's opening up to me a little more than she was a few days ago, and that's good. And like I told both Lanie and Alexis, she seems happier. No matter what Lanie says, that has to be a good thing. She's starting to get more comfortable here, and that's good. I'm glad we're here. I just wish the reasons why we're here were different. As it is… I just want her to be okay. That's really all I want.

He was startled out of his zone by a tall figure in his peripheral vision. "Writing anything exciting?" she asked.

"Oh. No," he said quickly, snapping his notebook shut. "Not really."

"You looked pretty absorbed," she said, sitting down beside him. "Didn't even notice when I came in."

"Yeah, well, you know me. I can get absorbed in anything. How'd your phone calls go?"

"Not bad. I called my dad first. He asked a million questions and I didn't really answer any of them. But I told him where I was and who I was with, and he seemed happy about that. I didn't give him the date of the hearing because I don't want him to show up, but I told him I'd stop and see him when I got home."
He smiled. "That's good. Did you call Lanie?"

She nodded. "I did. She's very annoying."

He smirked. "And that surprised you?"

"Not really. What did surprise me is that she really didn't ask too many questions. She just kept talking about you."

He frowned. "Me."

"Yeah. About how great it was of you to bring me here, and how I should 'take advantage of the situation.' Her words not mine, believe me. If I didn't know better, I'd say she had motives that she wasn't letting on."

"But you do know better?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know Lanie."

"She actually said it was great of me to bring you here?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, more than once."

"Weird. When I talked to her she didn't seem to think that."

"Who knows what she's thinking?" Kate looked down. "It was, though."

"Was… what?"

"Great of you. To bring me here."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And now?"

"Well?" He shrugged. "You tell me."

"I love it here," she admitted with a shrug. "It's beautiful, and it's been really good to get away. And I don't think I'm ready… to really get back into the real world yet."

"Do you think you'll be ready when it's time?" he asked.

"I'll have to be, won't I?" She shrugged. "But I will. I've always been okay at doing what I have to."

"But you won't be doing it by yourself," he reminded her. "Not if you don't want to be."

"I know." She nodded. "It's a little weird, you know? We're getting into these routines while we're here, but when we go back to New York everything's going to go back to the way it was. Who knows if I'll ever even come back here again?"

He frowned. "You're welcome here any time."

She shook her head. "I know you say that, but I'm really not. This is your house, yours and your family's, and I'm never really going to belong here. It'll always just be somewhere where I spent a couple of weeks once."

"I don't know about that. I think you leave your mark on a place. This house will remember you were here. It'll never be quite the same."

She rolled her eyes. "Sounds like something out of a really ridiculous movie."

He smiled. "Okay… how about this? I'll remember you were here, and it'll never be quite the same to me."

She met his eyes. "What are we doing?"

He shrugged. "We're talking."

"No, I mean… what are we doing here?"

"Waiting. Talking. Remembering. Forgetting." He let a beat pass. "Healing."

"And that's all?"

"Isn't that enough?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"What would make it enough?"

She sighed and looked away. "I don't know."

Something in the atmosphere, the vibe between them, had changed since Kate talked to Lanie. He couldn't place exactly what it was, but he wasn't sure he liked it. "Why do you think I brought you here, Kate?" he asked. There was an edge to his words that he didn't intend, but couldn't quite dull.

"To get me out of the city for a little while," she answered.

"But why?"

"Because it was what I wanted."

"Did you tell me that?"

She shrugged. "I don't remember. Did I?"

"I don't think so."

"Then you probably figured it out. You know me pretty well. And then…"

"And then what?" he asked, prompting her.

"Well, come on, Castle. I'm not stupid. Just the two of us here, alone, for two whole weeks?"

"I told you I was going to ask Alexis if she wanted to come up for the weekend."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but you didn't, did you? You just said that to make me feel more comfortable."

He frowned. She'd been thinking exactly what he'd been afraid she'd been thinking. "Of course I did. I called her while you were on the phone. She has homework and plans with her friends this weekend, so she's not coming. But she says hi." He looked her in the eye, challenging her, although he'd already won. "Why do you think I asked you here?" he demanded again.

She pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

"What did you think?" He was determined to get an answer now, one way or another. For some reason that he didn't try to understand, everything had changed. His vision blurred. He didn't care if he pushed too hard. He kept going. "Did you think that I just invited you here… what? To woo you?"

"I don't think that was the only reason, but I do think it factored in. Get me when I'm at my most vulnerable. Bring me here, with no one else I know, no one else at all in the house. But did you really think it would work?" she spat, getting angry as well. "Do you really think I'm that weak?"

He was fuming now, and he wanted to yell. He never yelled. He rarely lost his temper. But this… Could she really have said that? Was she really accusing him of that? He took a deep breath, because he wasn't going to solve anything by blowing up at her, and besides, blowing up really wasn't a part of his M.O. But somehow with that breath came not composure, as he'd hoped, but an entirely new emotion, and one that he didn't want her to know about right now. So he allowed the rage to come back, covering this new emotion and becoming a bit more subdued in the process. "Do you really believe that?" he asked her icily. "You know me, Beckett." He found that he didn't care if his use of her last name hurt her. "Or, at least I thought you did." He got up from the bed and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'll sleep in my own room tonight," he growled. But when he closed the door behind him he went not toward his original bedroom, but toward the door to the deck. Suddenly the house was feeling very cramped.

He let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, his elbows resting on it, and his hands supporting his chin. He blinked away a few bitter tears and imagined that he could feel the spray of the ocean on his face, although he wasn't quite close enough. The water, though, was certainly in a condition to cause spray. The waves lapped angrily at the sand, engaged in a constant competition to see which one could find the shore first, which could reach the farthest. One crashed into another, bruising its surface, but the next second the wind would change or another wave would come, and the bruised segment would disburse. It never healed, just redistributed until the entire expanse of water shared the same dark blue-gray color, the same pain. The wave that caused it felt it just as much as the one it had tried to hurt.

The sky rumbled, threatening rain that it wouldn't allow to fall. The clouds were dark, and they spanned as much of the sky as he could see. It needed to rain. The sky needed to unleash its burden on the water and the sand, to relieve the pressure that was only building, as evidenced by the rumbles of thunder and the flashes of lightning. Holding the rain inside would only make the sky angrier, would only make the thunder and the lightning come with greater frequency. It needed to let loose, but it stubbornly refused.

After several minutes of standing outside, he realized that he was waiting for rain that wasn't going to fall and went back inside, sliding the door closed behind him with a little more force than was needed. He wasn't tired, but he went back to his old bedroom regardless. Next to the one he'd been using, it felt very small, very plain. Comfortless. The bed was the same, the mattress the same, the decorations on the walls the same. But no matter which direction he turned, there was no other bed beside him. No matter how hard he listened, there was no sound of soft breathing. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't convince himself that he was overreacting. Couldn't make himself believe that everything was okay between him and Kate. That they would wake up the next morning and it would be forgotten. Maybe, this time, it wasn't that simple.

A/N: I sense a bit of a shift between the beginning and the end of this chapter. I'm curious to see what you thought of it. Castle being stupid? Beckett being stupid? Shared idiocy? Or neither? I had my own reasons for writing it the way that I did, but I want to know how you guys, not being me, are viewing the situation with them fighting. So if you want to put something to that effect in your review, that would be cool. :) But you know, ultimately it's up to you.

Clearly I'm still engaged in beating the ocean/sky metaphor to death. And it's still fighting back, so I have a feeling it'll be making more appearances.

On a slightly unrelated note. During November I'm going to be attempting NaNoWriMo (if you haven't heard of it... attempting to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days) in November, so between that and schoolwork I seriously doubt that I'll have a lot of time for updating. I hope I don't completely leave all of my fics hanging until December... but I make no promises. So I apologize in advance for the lack of updates in the next month or so. And on a COMPLETELY unrelated note, if any fellow NaNo-ers happen to read this and want to look me up there, I'm Lorelai90 (it's an old screen name, but I'm too lazy to change it). Always looking for more writing buddies. :)

On another unrelated but still vitally important note... happy Castle Day!