I know a lot of people were looking forward to this one, and I really hope I did it justice. It was difficult to keep the balance of light and heavy, and I'd really love to hear your thoughts on how it turned out.

To Love and Die in LA

"Oh. What's this?"

The open journal lay in Kate's left hand but her eyes were focused elsewhere, following the path of the piece of paper that'd just fallen out of it and now lay on the floor by the bed.

Castle switched off the bathroom light, crossed to Kate who was seated on the edge of the bed, currently bending over to retrieve the fallen sheet. Realization dawned on him even before he reached her side, though, once he realized she was holding the journal.

It was the one of the few letters that wasn't intact, and it'd bothered him so much at the time that he considered copying it over. But in the end he'd decided against it because he wanted to keep the emotion raw and honest, didn't want to risk changing a word here or there by mistake.

So he'd folded it in half, wedged it in the appropriate spot, and left it there.

"It's from LA."

"What?"

"When we went to Los Angeles. For..." he swallowed hard, saw it flash in her eyes, too. "For Royce."

"Right."

"I didn't have the journal with me but I needed to write to you so..."

This page was un-lined, just barely fit within the confines of the journal when folded in half. There were crinkles embedded in the paper, undoubtedly from making the trip back home wedged somewhere in his suitcase. Or, knowing Castle, his pocket. The writing was different on this one, too, the strokes of his letters less refined due to the lack of lines and, probably, the emotion of the evening.

"It's still for me, though?" she asked tentatively, tracing her index finger along the fold line.

"Of course."

Slowly she flipped it open, mixed feelings taking over at reading this one. Los Angeles had been a confusing and difficult time for Kate, not only because her mentor had been murdered, but because she'd come so close to sleeping with Castle. So close to cheating on Josh, and she'd tossed and turned that night after retreating back to her room, trying to come to terms with her feelings for Castle and just how strong they'd become.

Kate felt the bed dip next to her, the gentle pressure of Castle's hand on her thigh, reassuring. She righted the piece of paper, held it out between them, and Castle's hand came to grip the other side to steady it.

Dear Kate,

I meant what I said today. Every word.

I'm amazed by you, by every facet of you. I'm amazed by the way you fight for justice and hold your head high no matter what life throws your way. I'm amazed by the way you sauntered around in that barely-there bathing suit like you owned the place (which, by the way, was incredibly sexy). I'm amazed by the way you love so deeply and wholly.

It astonishes me, how much you'll do for people you care about; even if they've hurt you, even if they've made mistakes and bad decisions. Your ability to forgive astounds me. The layers of your heart extend more deeply than I ever imagined. You're truly amazing, Kate. With every day that passes I learn more about you, but even so, I feel like I still have so much left to learn. So much more to uncover. And that fascinates me.

As I write this, I'm sitting in my hotel room, so close to you, yet so far away. I know you're hurting even though you're doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but I've known you long enough that I can tell. This case is eating away at you.

I just want to hold you in my arms and tell you it's okay to feel and hurt and cry, and I want to be there as you let it out. I want to hold you up when you need to collapse and mourn the loss of your mentor. I want to take the pain away from you even though I know I could probably only do so much.

Besides, that's not my job, not the role I play in your life.

I hope you know, though, that I'm here for you if you decide you do need someone to help you through this. If you do need someone to hold you tightly, to talk to, to listen, to help you forget. It doesn't make you weak, you know, to ask for help or comfort or to want to feel something other than sadness. I could see you were struggling with that tonight. There was something in your eyes as we sat on the sofa and I could hear it in your voice as you excused yourself and walked away. Something akin to want and desire. And it was the first time since the dirty bomb that I truly allowed myself to hope.

I waited for you once you retreated to your room. I sat there on the sofa just watching your door, wishing you'd come back out and say what was really on your mind. Wishing you'd let me hold you and kiss you and provide you at least a temporary distraction from your internal struggles.

"I opened the door," she confessed, barely a whisper.

Castle lifted his head sharply. "What?"

"I opened my door after you left. I was going to... I don't know. But I knew you could make me forget, and that was all I really wanted."

"Where was I?"

"Your door had just shut."

He dropped his head, swore under his breath. "Shit."

"No."

"But..."

"No, Castle," she stated firmly. "We both would've regretted it in the morning. It would've been me using you. And I was still with Josh."

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, regain his perspective. "No, you're right. I just hate seeing you in pain, and knowing that I could've done something..." he trailed off. "But you're right, it would've made a mess of things. It would've given you more to worry about. And as much as I didn't like Josh, I never wanted to get in the way of your happiness."

Kate snorted. "I'm not sure I'd call it happiness." At the time, maybe she would have. In retrospect, not so much.

He squeezed her thigh gently. "Nevertheless, it would've made a difficult situation even worse."

"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, I know."

She dropped her gaze back to the journal then, to the rest of his letter, and Castle followed suit.

Anyway, it's late and we have an early morning tomorrow, so I should probably get some sleep. I hope you find some semblance of relief in your dreams tonight. And if you can't sleep, or you wake in the middle of the night haunted by this case, I hope you know you can come to me. If you need to talk or need a hug or even if you want to curl up in my bed, you're more than welcome.

I know I already said all of this once but I just want to make sure you understand: I will do anything, absolutely anything, to make this easier for you, because I hate seeing you in pain. I hate knowing you're hurting. I just want you to be happy. I want to see you smile.

Love,

Rick

Silence fell as they both descended into their thoughts, memories of a tumultuous journey across the country in a hunt for justice that bordered on a quest for revenge.

Kate lifted her head suddenly, struck with a thought. "Did I ever show you the letter Royce wrote to me?"

"What letter?"

"The one Lanie found in his pocket at the crime scene."

Castle shook his head. "No, you didn't."

He remembered though, now that she mentioned it. Remembered the darkness, the look of desolation in her eyes as she processed the death of her fallen mentor. The way her demeanor changed after Lanie handed her two pieces of paper, lined and folded together. The way she'd blown off Castle's inquiries as to what it was, all the while never taking her eyes off the page.

Now it all made sense.

"Do you want to read it?"

"If you want me to."

She hesitated only briefly before standing, crossing to the dresser, to the wooden box on top that held her jewelry and her father's watch at night. She lifted the top section revealing a lower compartment, and from where Castle sat he could only assume it held trinkets and other valuable and precious items. Kate lifted a small stack of papers, sifted through to find the correct ones.

As he watched, Castle was struck with the sudden urge to know more, to ask about what else was in there, about why she'd saved these items and what they meant to her. But he knew Kate, knew there were still some things that were intensely private to her, her mother being at the top of that list. If Castle had to guess, he'd assume most of what was in the box had once belonged to Johanna. So he restrained himself, forced himself to sit still as she replaced the box and reclaimed her spot next to him. He trusted she'd tell him in good time.

Kate faltered only slightly, extended it to him. "Here."

Castle met her eyes in silent reassurance, and only once he found what he was looking for did he set aside the journal, unfold the pages of Royce's letter, and begin to read.

This time, it was Kate's turn to stand by and read over his shoulder as he read the words she'd long ago committed to memory. As she watched his eyes trace the words, flicking furiously back and forth across the page, she found herself wondering just how many of his letters he knew word for word, how much time he'd spent in her current position.

When he finished he re-folded the letter, handed it back to her wordlessly. Kate stood, returned it to its place, and only when she sat down again did he speak.

"Was that why you opened the door?"

The question caught Kate off guard. "Possibly," she replied after a moment. "It definitely made me take a step back and reconsider."

"Hmmm."

She merely nodded, waited for his next inquiry.

But when he spoke, it wasn't a question. Not at all. It was something that meant so much more. "If he could see us now, I know he'd be so proud of you."

Thoughts?