Anatomy of a Murder

"You ready for the next one?"

She nodded, met his eyes with a smile as he flipped the page. They settled back into each other then, into the bed, the journal propped up between them, and fell back into his words, his uncensored thoughts from so many years ago.

Dear Kate,

"Would you be willing to break her out of prison? Because that, my dear, is true love."

That's what my mother said to me last night when I was talking to her about this case, about what Greg did for Amy, about their love story and the fact that he went to such lengths for her. I really hope she's acquitted at her re-trial. They deserve their happy ending.

But back to my original point, which is that I'm currently sitting at my desk contemplating my mother's words, trying to understand their true meaning. I personally can't imagine doing what he did for anyone I've ever been with... breaking them out of prison, that is. But after watching the two of them together, I also I know I've never had anything remotely similar to what they have.

I do know I'd break Alexis out of prison in a heartbeat; that's a very different type of love, but I guess it's the same principle. If you love someone, you'll do anything for them.

And then earlier today, when I was talking to Esposito and you so casually mentioned that you'd get me out of prison... I didn't even know what to say to that. I still don't, actually, because I don't know what it means. But there's a nagging voice in the back of my head that can't stop wondering: were you serious?

Obviously you're with Josh. Obviously you have feelings for him, not for me. So that means your willingness to break me out of prison is just... what? Because we're colleagues of sorts? Or did you just throw that comment out there without much meaning behind it? It couldn't have meant what my mother said. It didn't, did it?

It's driving me crazy, Kate, not knowing what you meant. What it meant to you.

Or even if you were serious.

Were you?

Let's hope we never have to find out the hard way. I have a feeling I wouldn't do well in prison.

But for now, I guess I'll have to settle for not knowing. I'll write it here, and maybe someday I'll have my answer. Maybe someday, I'll understand it from your point of view.

(For the record, I'd break you out of prison any day, Kate.)

-Castle

"I cared, Rick," she murmured, lifting her eyes from the page to meet his, wide and blue and curious.

"What?"

"I cared. Always did, even if I liked to pretend I didn't."

"Yeah, but cared and loved are two different things," he pointed out.

Kate sighed, allowed her eyes to fall closed before slowly opening them again. "I know. And I don't... I don't know how I felt back then. I was still trying to pretend I didn't have feelings for you. But I cared. You'd done a lot for me, as a partner and as a friend. And I just... I would've gotten you out, Castle."

"And now?"

She smiled, leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. "I'd probably be right there in the cell with you."

"Kate?"

"Hmmm?"

She rolled over, lifted her head enough to blink one sleepy eye in his direction. Castle was sprawled on his stomach, face turned towards her, clearly too focused on something to have even considered sleeping yet.

"You said – earlier – that I'd done a lot for you."

Kate sighed, forced both eyes open. The clock read 12:14 a.m. and she'd spent the afternoon back on their case, hadn't left the station until well after ten o'clock. Again. She was exhausted and really just wanted to sleep. But apparently they were going to have a conversation right now, in which he expected her to actually think and give legitimate responses.

She'd discovered rather quickly after they started dating that Castle's mind was the most active whenever he was trying to fall asleep. Many times she'd woken around midnight to find his side of the bed empty, the quiet clicking of computer keys floating in from his office. On the nights spent at her place, she'd occasionally find him at her desk, furiously scrawling words across whatever blank sheets of paper he could find.

And thanks to his always busy mind, this also wasn't the first time they'd had conversations like this at some ungodly hour.

"Yeah," she murmured, forcing back the haze hanging over her, calling forth the memories of their conversation earlier that morning.

"What did you mean by that?"

"Right now?" she complained, knowing it was futile, but she wouldn't be Kate Beckett if she didn't give it a shot.

"Yes, because it's bothering me and I can't sleep."

She sighed, lifted her head to rest it on one hand, met his eyes through the darkness of the room. She could just make out the outline of his upper body, the faint light reflecting in his eyes, liquid and shining in the night.

"I just meant… you make my job more fun. You make me smile and laugh and roll my eyes, and it's been a long time since I've done anything like that at work. And you make me see a different side of life, a better side where everything isn't so dark and horrific."

Castle smiled broadly though it wasn't visible in the darkness, reached out to cover her hand with his own atop the covers. "I'm glad I can do that for you."

"Me too," she replied, a quiet honesty in her voice, and he'd never admit it but this was one of the reasons he loved their middle of the night conversations, because she was just so soft and open and loving.

Not that she wasn't like that at other times as well, because she was. In fact, it still regularly caught him off guard how open and affectionate she was. They were always careful not to go overboard in public, but that she would kiss his cheek on the sidewalk while they waited to cross the street and hold his hand in the elevator at the precinct had come as a pleasant surprise.

But there was just something even more special about her in this sleepy state, so uncensored and willing to divulge her innermost thoughts and insights. He absolutely loved it.

Her words seemed to ease his mind at least for now because the bed shifted next to her, dipped slightly as he snuggled up next to her and twined their bodies together. His arm came to rest over her stomach, one leg sliding between hers. Kate sighed happily, relaxed into him as his head settled in the hollow just below her collarbone.

She'd never admit it, but she loved when he used her as a pillow.

"Night," he whispered, his soft exhale playing across her naked skin.

She smiled into the darkness, felt her heart warm at the gentleness of his voice, the pure love radiating from his semi-sleeping form, wrapping around her.

"Good night, Castle."

Thoughts?