A/N: Urghhhh, finally. Still not 100% happy with the update but I can't look at it or fiddle with it anymore.

Chapter Twelve: Sooner surrender.

She was going to go to the Hamptons alone.

That was the plan; spare him anything but the essential details after she got the call from Esposito and Ryan that they'd broken the case for Chief Brady. It's another battle won, she guesses and he's been arrested, the man who did this terrible thing to Castle's mother.

She'd been consumed with the need to oversee it. An instant desire, a huge and unwavering pull to see with her own eyes (now that it's solved and all she'd be doing is looking the case over), an insatiable need to make sure all the details are nailed down so tight that not a lawyer in the world can shake it. And Kate feels it both as a duty to Martha as her daughter-in-law, as well as her responsibility as a cop; but more than all of that she feels like it's all that her husband will let her continue to do for him, now that his mother is slowly but steadily recovering.

Because things have changed again between then in the five days since Martha regained wakefulness, and while Castle's still been openly grateful to her for both her steady presence and her support, he's also decidedly retreated from her on a more personal, emotional level. And he hasn't touched her since that day either.

Not casually, not even accidentally.

Not once.

And when she's caught his eye at certain moments and she's been witness to the struggle in them, it's become immediately apparent that he's very aware of it also. That it's his choice to steadfastly avoid any further physical interaction with her. A choice not made without some anguish on his part but mostly made very calmly, very deliberately.

And worse, made very much with a purpose.

He's recreating a defined distance between them and then maintaining it like a dam, filtering oh so carefully everything that he allows through it, and it hurts. There's a festering, ulcerated ache now within her because of it, adding to the pile of her fears and self-loathing.

She understands.

At least Kate keeps telling herself that she does. But the back-pedaling means she's somewhat at a loss now when it comes to how she's going to navigate through this to the outcome she needs. And she's growing increasingly worried about the conversation that she strongly suspects Castle keeps trying to start with her - the divorce.

He's been subtle. Hell, he's been gentle, magnanimous even. But she's convinced he keeps on trying to steer her into a conversation about it with the increasingly numerous mentions about him needing to sell the loft, but how he's now having to re-think his original plan to just spend more of his time in the Hamptons from now on. How he thinks that maybe it would be better if he just sold both of the homes because of the terrible weight of their memories, and how Connecticut seems like it might really suit him in regards to a place for a fresh start. He'll look at her then, waiting for an opening, or a reaction, and she's found herself ducking her head and just nodding, before she scrambles quickly to come up with a clever change of topic.

So far he's let her get away with it. Nothing more than a soft sigh and a creeping darkness in his eyes to tell her that he knows she's stalling him.

He hasn't mentioned Jack again though. Or the now imminent anniversary of his loss that is gathering on the horizon and coming for them both like a perfect storm; terrifying in its raw power now that it's just mere days away.

But then she hasn't brought it up either, and she hates that. Hates that she's become so very terrified of talking now to the man that she married for fear of where that conversation will ultimately take them. Wonders where exactly her commitment to coming back, to explanations and understanding, her determination to keep trying to be open enough to fix all of this have gone? It's not like she has him back – not in any real capacity. All she's really gained since she walked back into Castle's world is his ability to be in the same room with her once again, and nothing more than that.

And things can't go on like this; this is a holding pattern only. She cannot shake the feeling that Castle's simply resigned to marking time right now, as he waits to see what she'll do on the anniversary of their child's death. That he's fully expecting her to simply up and vanish on him again as she did when it first happened, and he's just tolerating the current stagnant status-quo and her continued avoidance of the topic of divorce until that occurs.

She's got no right to be affronted by that thought, yet it still stings regardless that he's maintaining his distance so very diligently because he's holding onto nothing but very low expectations of her.

The thing is - the now looming date that marks the place where both their lives unraveled is really beginning to terrify her. Kate can already feel tiny parts of her psyche fracturing again, and her instinctual modus operandi 'run and hide' whispering to her in every quiet moment. All she can do is fight it, and so she is. She's fighting it harder than she ever has before because she knows everything hinges on her proving to Castle that he's wrong about this – about her. That she's finally learned from all her past mistakes this time and she's really changed. Permanently changed because their son's death has taught her never to waste a moment you can grab with those you love, and that's how she wants to honor him. Castle can't be expected to demonstrate faith in her, can't be expected to allow her into his life again until she accomplishes this, now can he? So every shred of hope she has that remains is hanging on her finally being there for him on that day. On being whatever it is that he needs her to be, be it wife, friend, partner or lover. This is her only avenue if she's going to salvage anything of value between them beyond the most tentative of polite friendships.

And though she values his friendship, treasures it even, there is no way Kate can see that she can survive the rest of her life if it's devoid of his love. His love is everything to her now; it's the only desire she has for life that remains.

Everything is spilling through her head as she starts her car, her mind set on making sure the case against Martha's attacker is airtight and staying away only as long as she needs to – but then the passenger door to her cruiser opens before she can change the gear into drive and she's thrown for a loop as her husband climbs into the vehicle with her.

She stares at him completely startled; his face is like a thundercloud, lips thin and jaw unyielding, a determination in his eyes that chills her.

"I'm coming with you." It's a statement said as he turns his eyes to the front and buckles his seat-belt almost angrily.

Kate's about to ask him if he even knows where she's going but the twitching muscle in his neck says he's already aware, and though she'd planned to spare him all of this she sees suddenly that he desperately needs every tiny detail.

'Just like you would'

She mentally rebukes herself.

Kate swallows, debating for a moment before she just nods at him and simply puts the cruiser into reverse, backing it out of the parking space and exiting the hospital's parkade. They make it out of the city and onto the freeway before either of them speaks again.

"So who is he?" Castle finally asks, twisting his torso in the seat in a manner than makes it appear he's about to start interrogating her. His questions then come thick and fast.

"This . . . piece of shit that shot my mother, did he target my home deliberately or was it random? Did it have something to do with the man my mother was seeing? Was he married or something? Have there been any other home-invasions in the area? Tell me the truth, Kate . . ." Then he stops suddenly, biting on his lower lip so hard he draws blood.

"What?" she prompts. "Tell you the truth about what, Castle?"

His eyes drop to the badge currently sitting on her hip, she hasn't worn it since this all began but she pulled it out and clipped it on the moment she decided to head out to the Hamptons. He seems to study the shiny object with fascination until his eyes suddenly land back on hers again and there's a heavy burden of guilt in them.

The cop arches her eyebrow but waits for him to spit it out.

"Am I responsible for this?"

She wants to weep from the gravity in his low voice alone.

"No," she answers quickly. "And why on earth would you even think that, Rick?"

He sighs heavily, seems to debate whether to say what's on his mind but then he spits it out.

"Did he come to my house and target my mother because of me, Kate? Because of something I did – or didn't do for that matter?"

She wants to reach out her hand but since he's been so obviously guarded about his space she forces the urge down deep and settles for tightening her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles are white from it instead.

"He knew your mother, but he didn't actually know you, Castle, although he knew of you, obviously. This isn't your fault in any way; it isn't your mother's fault either. The only thing that made her a target was your wealth, Castle. And that is absolutely not a justification or something that can be blamed on anyone. You earned your success, Rick and all the trappings of it. You can't blame yourself for what you have or the fact it makes you a target."

"Wealth?"

Kate sighs, "The man they've arrested was a student of your mothers – a more mature student than most of hers are but apparently one who had to quit the school because he could no longer afford the tuition. He thought Martha should have offered him a scholarship but when he didn't meet any of the criteria for one he decided to steal from you in order to pay for it. If it's any comfort he wasn't expecting anyone to be at the house – at least that's what he's claiming to Chief Brady. He thought the lights on inside were purely for security."

Castle looks stony. His eyes drifting across the passing scenery as he nods slowly, clearly mulling everything he's learned over.

"She wasn't supposed to be there, but she changed her plans at the last minute." Sighing heavily he adds, "Why did he shoot them? I mean what kind of threat were two unarmed seniors anyway?"

Kate's not sure if he's actually asking her a question with the last part or just wondering out-loud. She knows Castle's seen enough pointless violence as her work partner not to even ask that, but regardless she has an answer for him anyway. "Your mother recognized him, Castle. He didn't want to end up in jail."

"Oh."

With his face turned away from her now, Kate can't get a read on what he's feeling so she offers up her own agenda instead.

"You really, really don't have to do this, Rick. I'll make sure the Chief has this all nailed down tight for you. This man, I promise you he's going to pay for what he did."

Her husband's eyes soften noticeably as he looks her way again, and she's overcome with the need to touch him – space be damned. Her right hand is off the wheel and reaching for his before she can consciously stop it. She sees him almost flinch when he registers her intent but she can't do anything about it. She grabs his hand, lacing their fingers intimately and the atmosphere between them charges in an instant. His skin is hot against her, the twining of their digits so reminiscent of when they used to make love.

"Let me do this for you," she pleads. Her heart is pounding now, the urge to pull the car over and bury herself in his arms insanely strong.

He stares at her mutely for a moment, his pupil's dilated and an unreadable expression in his eyes before he shakes his head and softly extricates his hand from hers, the charged atmosphere immediately turning sad and somber as he turns his head away.

"Let's just go and see the Chief, Kate. I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's my family, my life. It's my responsibility, not yours."

"I'm your wife," the words are out before she can think to filter them or ponder where that declaration could lead. Castle's shoulders tense and she wonders if this is where he starts flinging her failures in that regard back at her again, but the silence just stretches for a long moment as Kate holds her breath, and in the end he says nothing more than,

"I'm tired, Kate. I think I should try and take a nap. Wake me when we get there."