Probable Cause

"What's... what's this?" Castle asked, reaching out to finger the folded sheet of paper wedged in between two pages of their journal, not one he remembered placing there.

"That's from me," Kate answered, joining him on the bed, making herself comfortable next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

"It is?"

She nodded. "Found in a while ago when I was sorting through some stuff and figured I'd put it in there so we could read it in sequence."

"So it's in the right place?" he asked, flipping the page open and comparing the dates.

"Should be."

Sure enough, it was. He folded the paper back more sharply, smoothing the crease with his fingers, but Kate stopped him, fingers gentle on his wrist.

"Yours first."

"Okay."

Dear Kate,

I don't even know where to start right now. These last three days have been awful. The best way I can think to describe it is my worst nightmare acted out. I can't get it out of my head, any of it. Perhaps I should begin by saying thank you and then proceed from there.

So thank you, Kate. For believing in me. I know I already said this once, but you have no idea what it means to me that you fought so hard for me when the evidence gave you every reason to believe I'd been unfaithful and that I'd killed a woman to cover my tracks. Hell, in your position, I'm sure I'd have struggled to separate reality from fiction as well, especially under such compelling evidence.

It means the world to me to know that you trusted me so strongly, that you believed in me so fiercely. I know you haven't actually said the words yet, and part of me has been longing to hear them fall from your lips. But what you did for me these last couple days says all I need to know and more.

(I love you too, Kate.)

I wish you were here right now. I know you were here all night, and I woke up with you in my arms this morning. I know you said you'd come back later. But it's not enough right now, because I'm alone and it's all still so fresh and he's out there somewhere and I just want to fall into bed with you and make it all go away.

He was in the loft, Kate. He was here, in my home. He stood in my living room. He was watching Alexis and I go about our daily routines. It's making me paranoid, though I maintain it's completely justifiable.

He watched us, Kate. You and me. He told me he'd seen us in bed together. The most private and special thing in my life, and he violated that.

She reached for him blindly, clamped down hard around his hand, but didn't speak.

I hate it because he's tarnished the memories that I hold so near and dear to my heart. I hate thinking that way, because no matter what he did, I'll continue to treasure those memories. I just wish he hadn't defiled them. Or maybe I wish he'd never told me. Truthfully, I'm not sure which is worse. I'm not sure about a lot of things anymore.

All I know with certainty is that every time I close my eyes I'm back in that holding cell, looking into his vacant eyes as he describes how he's going to kill me, how you're not going to be able to stop him and how it will haunt you for the rest of your life. How he had it all planned out, how he orchestrated this entire thing not only to get back at me, but to add to the guilt of last time when he gets away with murder once again.

He did it, Kate. He got away again. I know you still believe he's dead and I would love to believe that too. But I've spoken with him, I've seen the way he talks about killing, about the fun of the staging and the thrill of seeing the fear in the eyes of his victims. He lives for those moments. It's only a matter of time before he starts doing it again.

In the meantime, I guess I'll have to learn to take things one day at a time. I'll have the locks changed on the loft, have everything deep cleaned. I'll take another shower, because despite taking one last night with you, I can still feel the filth of being around him lingering on my skin. Maybe after that I'll be able to feel a little less violated, a little safer, and I'll be able to return to some sense of normalcy.

Maybe I'll be able to forget, at least temporarily.

In the meantime, I'm going to cling to you, to my time with you and to our partnership. When I'm with you, I can almost forget. Almost.

Hopefully, as time passes the memories will fade. I'm going to make an effort to ensure they do, because I refuse to allow the time I spend with you to be tainted by the twisted words and actions of a psychotic serial killer. Otherwise I'm going to spend the foreseeable future jumping at every noise, glancing over my shoulder at every turn, and I don't want that to happen.

Our time together is far too precious for that.

I'm sure I could go on and on about the case and my feelings and fears because there's still so much swirling through my brain despite having written this letter. For now I'll refrain, because I think this is one of those things that won't be solved by writing. It was good to get some of this down on paper, but I need to actually take action to erase what he did, to help myself feel safe again. To not let him win.

And when all of that still isn't enough, I'll hold you in my arms and never let you go. No matter how horrible the situation, you make everything better just by being you.

I love you, Kate.

Rick

"I can't believe he... God, really?" she spluttered in disgust, a shiver of horror racing up her spine.

"Kate..."

"No, but..."

"Kate, don't," he interrupted before her mind had an opportunity to run away with this information. "Just don't think about it. Forget about it. Trust me, it's better that way."

"How can I not?" she asked desperately.

"Just focus on your memories. On us and the way it feels when we're together. Just remember that," he suggested gently. "He might have been there watching, but he can't take away our feelings. That's what worked for me, anyway."

She nodded slowly, forced the thoughts from her mind. It may not be easy to forget, but she knew he was right; it was the best they could do.

"Here," Castle suggested, reaching for her letter and offering it up as a distraction. Not that it was likely to buoy their spirits, but it was something else to focus on at least for a few minutes.

Kate smiled softly, appreciating his efforts.

Dear Castle,

I think I understand now how you sometimes just have to go write. How you leave the station in a rush or steal one of my pads of paper because you have to jot something down right away. I've never understood why it couldn't just wait a couple of hours, but now I do. I'm at home curled up on my bed, and you're across town in a holding cell and there's nothing I can do about it and I feel so utterly useless and defeated. I want so badly to go to you, but I know I shouldn't because it might compromise the case or my objectivity. The only other thing I can think to do is write to you and hope that my words will somehow make a difference.

I hate this, Castle. I hate it so much. I'm crawling into bed alone when I should be crawling into your arms. I spent the last two hours sobbing to Lanie instead of spending a quiet evening with you. Right now, all I want is to feel your touch, see your smile. I want to hear your voice as you spin together a beautiful string of words that make this story make sense, because right now, nothing does. The jewelry you didn't buy, the paragraphs you didn't write, the emails I know you didn't send. It's all wrong, Castle. I know it is. I know you wouldn't do something like this to me, no matter what the evidence says. I know you, Castle. You're a lot of things, but you're not the person this evidence is making you out to be.

I don't even know what to say right now, and even if I did, I'm not sure you'd listen to me. You're in a holding cell because of me. All of this doesn't add up and I'm missing something and because of that, you're being branded a criminal.

But this isn't over. It's not. This is only just beginning, this beautiful thing that we have, and there's no way in hell I'll let this unfortunate combination of evidence lock you up for any longer. Whoever is behind this, whoever is setting you up... I will find them. I promise you, Castle. I promise.

I haven't found the courage yet to say this aloud but... I love you.

Kate

When they finished reading, she lifted her eyes to find his fixed on her, deep and dark, and his voice was solemn and true as he spoke the only words that were needed in this moment.

"I love you too, Kate."

Thoughts?