H/T to Taylor Swift for the fic title, which comes from her song "Hoax."

Thanks for all the love so far! Just wanted to express my viewpoint regarding a topic that's come up in a couple of reviews, but if you aren't interested, feel free to jump to the story.

I think all too often - in the fandom and in fic - there's this thing that happens where we make it "Castle's fault" or "Beckett's fault" when a conflict arises between them. But that's a very narrow, black-and-white way of looking at it. Life and humanity is so much more complex and nuanced. I think that in this case, Beckett is struggling with the fact that Castle has been gone so long — but that really just scratches the surface. What will (hopefully) become clear as the story progresses is that yes, she's hurt and she missed him, but she's also projecting what she views as her own failures/shortcomings onto Castle. Some of the anger she feels toward him is really anger toward herself. Is it fair that she's projecting that onto him? Maybe not, but she's human and working it out. Neither of them are perfect and all feelings are valid.

I really just want to showcase how relationships and emotions are so complex, but how those things can ultimately come together to be special.

Castle barely makes it through the door before he finds himself calling Esposito. He's sure the detective will be irritated with him, to say the least, but Kate…

He's worried about her. And maybe he lost the right to worry a little bit when he stayed away for so long, but old habits die hard.

"Esposito," the detective answers gruffly.

"Hey Espo," Castle greets him, forcing a little cheer into his voice. "It's Castle."

A long, heavy pause settles over the line. "Hmm, sorry, I don't know anyone by that name."

"Esposito - "

"What the hell, Castle?" he hisses. "You think you can just stay away for six months without a damn word and call me up out of the blue?"

"The book tour ran longer - " he starts to protest, but it's weak and he knows it. Castle spots Alexis on the couch, her forehead wrinkled in concern and a textbook in her lap, but he waves her off with a reassuring smile. He points back to his bedroom and shuffles away for privacy.

"And what? You don't own a cell phone?"

"Look, I know I screwed up - " he whispers, closing the door to his office behind him.

"No, you don't. You don't know a damn thing. If you did…" Esposito trails off. "Things have happened, Castle."

So he was right. Something was wrong.

"I ran into Beckett," Castle rushes out, trying to slip it in before the other man can hang up on him.

"What? When?"

"Just now, at a coffee shop near the precinct." He pauses. "She didn't seem…" he hesitates.

"Okay? Because she's not," he snipes.

"What's wrong with her?"

"It's not just her, bro." He hears the detective start to deflate, exhausted with it. Esposito sighs. "Look, have you kept up with the news at all while you were gone?"

"Not really," Castle admits. "I was back in the city for a week after the summer but I just got back from my West Coast tour a few days ago."

"We had a case a couple weeks ago, a bad one. Remember the Triple Killer who was in the news awhile back?"

Castle's blood runs cold. "How could I forget?"

"He's back. We thought we'd caught him, thanks to an old cellmate of his. Got the cellmate out in exchange for information and the man we thought was responsible confessed."

"Okay. That's good, right?"

"Turns out we had the wrong guy. The old cellmate was the Triple Killer. Man by the name of Jerry Tyson. Long story short, he got the jump on Ryan and shot him."

"What - "

"He's fine, but it was pretty touch and go for awhile. None of us thought he'd make it."

And then it dawns on Castle. "And Beckett blames herself."

"She hasn't said as much but you know Beckett. Plays it close to the vest. But it's written all over her face every time she comes in here. And she never goes home anymore."

Jesus. He's got to call Ryan. And Beckett.

"Castle, don't do anything stupid," Esposito warns, reading his mind. "I don't know what Beckett said to you earlier, but you're not exactly her favorite person right now."

"Yeah, it doesn't exactly take a detective to figure that one out." He knows he messed up, but the more he thought about coming back, the more he pictured her with her robbery detective boyfriend.

Speaking of -

"Espo, what about Demming?"

"What about him?" he asks sharply.

"Well, I just - I - " he stammers. "Isn't he helping Beckett through all of this?"

"Bro, if you'd have gotten your head out of your ass sooner, you'd know that Beckett broke up with Demming before you jetted off to the Hamptons with your ex-wife," Esposito snaps.

And then the line goes dead.

Fuck.

It's way too fucking early when Kate wakes up the next day. She can't seem to put a stop to the nightmares — all of them. Ryan getting shot. Ryan dying. Castle coming back -

Except that last one actually happened last night when she was ill-equipped to deal, when she'd barely had time to steel herself against his presence, a slap in the face after six months of absolutely nothing.

And unfortunately for her, time had been nothing but good to him. She'd been avoiding news about him like the plague, but judging from the slight tan of his face, she imagines he's been traipsing across the West Coast somewhere.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Kate finally slides out of bed, wincing as her bare feet meet the cold floor. She stumbles into the bathroom, bracing her hands along the edge of the pedestal sink as she takes a long hard look at herself in the mirror.

If the last half year had been good to Castle, it'd certainly gone in the other direction for her. Her skin is dull, lifeless, and the bags under her eyes are more prominent than ever. She hasn't stepped onto a scale in ages, but if the fit of her clothes are any indication, she's dropped at least a few pounds.

At least she's managed to successfully grow out her hair.

Kate sighs and flicks the shower on, collapses down onto the edge of the tub while waiting for the water to warm up. She really needs to call the super about the hot water heater in her place.

She'd missed Castle. A lot. She'd gotten pretty good at ignoring it, too, and then after Ryan was shot, she could go an entire day without thinking about Castle.

But seeing him last night...it all just came flooding back. Not just the last six months, but the last time they'd had a real conversation, when she broke up with her boyfriend and Castle left her standing in the precinct with her fissured heart in her hands as he dashed off to the Hamptons with a blonde on his arm.

Kate presses the palms of her hands to her eyes. God, she's tired. Always so tired.

With a heavy heart and heavy limbs, she peels off her clothes and climbs into the shower, letting the spray of hot water scald her skin until she doesn't feel anything else.

Kate perks up a bit two hours later as she trails after Jenny O'Malley through the doorway of her little downtown apartment with Ryan. Her blue-eyed friend is propped up on the couch in a zip-up sweatshirt, a glass of water sandwiched between his legs. He looks a little tired and still too pale, even for his pasty Irish skin, she thinks as he flicks off the television. But his gaze remains bright, a match for the smile that graces his lips as he greets her.

"Beckett!"

Kate relaxes a little, relieved. She shoots him a smile. "Hey, Ryan."

"Kev, I'm going to finish cleaning up breakfast, give you two some time to catch up." Jenny turns to Kate. "Can I get you anything? Water?"

Kate lays a comforting hand on Jenny's arm, squeezing gently. "I'm good, but thank you." She nods toward the kitchen. "Need any help in there?" Kate turns to Ryan, lifting an eyebrow. "I work with him, I know the kinds of messes he leaves behind in the break room."

He snorts, looking mildly affronted. "I think you've got me confused with Esposito."

Jenny shakes off the suggestion with a friendly smile. "No, I've got it. Besides, it'll give me some time away from the patient," she teases, her green eyes glinting.

"Hey," Ryan protests. "I am an excellent patient."

Jenny heads off toward the other room, calling over her shoulder, "Whatever you say, honey!"

Kate shakes her head on a laugh before taking a seat on the opposite end of Ryan's couch, giving him enough space to stay comfortable.

"How is the patient, anyway?"

"Beckett, I'm bored out of my mind," he stage-whispers, sending her eyes rolling.

"You want me to call Espo?" Kate asks, making a show of sliding her phone from her coat. She flashes it with a quick flick of her wrist. "I'm sure he's got plenty of paperwork he could offload - "

"Oh no," he interjects hastily, shaking his head. "Then he'd have to bring it all the way uptown and I don't want to bother him."

Beckett's mouth twitches in amusement at his exaggeration. "Uh-huh."

Ryan cocks his head. "Actually, I'm surprised you're here."

She purses her lips. "Yeah, well, Captain Montgomery practically ordered me out of the office last night. I'm pretty sure he'd suspend me if I showed my face in the precinct before tomorrow."

"Can't say I'm surprised. You look like hell, Beckett."

Well, he's one to talk.

She scoffs in disbelief, tucking a leg under her knee. "Okay, what, do the three of you just like all have a little powwow," she wiggles her fingers, "when I'm not around?"

"I'm going to assume that was rhetorical," he replies nonchalantly, taking a very long sip of water.

"You are so lucky that -" A snarky comment about him being lucky he's injured so he doesn't have to incur her wrath sits on the tip of her tongue, but she chokes it down, mildly horrified.

But he knows, of course. The longer she's worked with the boys, the harder it's gotten for her to maintain any kind of poker face.

She loves them. But she hates that.

Kevin lowers his water glass back to his lap. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Ryan, I'm - "

"Fine?" he interrupts. "Then why aren't you sleeping? Javi says you don't leave the precinct, that you're barely eating."

She swallows roughly, propping her elbow onto the back of the couch. She rests her cheek on her palm, lets the weighted silence fall between them.

Ryan reaches for her other hand, his mouth twisting in a grimace as the movement tugs at him. The physical gesture is so foreign to her that she flinches a little under it. But he doesn't let go, rests his hand on top of hers. "Beckett, I'm alive. Physical therapy is slow, but I'm getting there. And once I'm up and running and psych clears me, I'll be back in the field by February. Maybe even a couple weeks sooner."

"I should've had your back," she rasps, licking her lips, her throat dry, wishing she'd taken Jenny up on that water.

"I'm the one who walked into that hotel room without backup. We had no reason to suspect Tyson was 3XK. He had us all snowed." He shakes his head. "When his girlfriend was safe and he didn't even pretend to care, I should've called you guys right then instead of confronting him."

But he didn't. And the price tag was a bullet in his chest, way too close a call.

Ryan removes his hand from hers, looks like he wants to say something else, but hesitates.

"What?" she asks.

He opens his mouth, closes it on a wince. "I'm going to say something and you're not going to like it."

"Because I am really enjoying this lighthearted conversation so far," she says wryly.

"It's about Castle."

"Of course it is," she mutters.

"You think that if he'd been here and played out all his little theories about the case that we wouldn't be sitting here right now."

His words douse her in cold water. "Castle has been gone for six months, Ryan. It would be…" she pauses, stumbling for the right word, "ridiculous to blame him."

He smiles sympathetically. "Makes it a little easier when you're already angry with him, doesn't it?"

Fuck, does she just walk around moping all day long or what?

"No," she says tersely. "This has nothing to do with Castle." At least not in the way Ryan's thinking of, anyway.

"Come on, Beckett. You're really going to sit there and tell me that none of this started before Tyson? What about that case with your old training officer?"

Well, he was right about that one. She'd been doing all right until then, making it through with just a dull ache in her chest, but one more betrayal from a man she thought she could count on and -

"Look, I know you didn't come here to have some long drawn-out conversation about your feelings," he says. "You and Espo really are cut from that same cloth." She shoots him a playful glare for that.

"We all know there's no one better at this job than you, so you gotta cut yourself some slack." He pauses, grimacing again. "And Castle."

Wait.

She laughs hollowly. "He called you, didn't he?"

"Maybe," he drawls.

She glares. "Ryan."

"Yeah, he called me this morning. He's stopping by here this afternoon."

"And what, that's it?" she asks, incredulous. "One lousy phone call and you're ready to forgive him?"

Ryan shrugs. "He's been away on a book tour." She scoffs, shaking her head. "What? Beckett, your relationship with Castle," he points to her, "is not like my relationship with Castle," he pokes a thumb into his chest, inches away from his bullet wound.

"Oh?" She narrows her eyes. "And how is it?"

"Yeah, I'm not touching that one with a 39 and a half foot pole."

Beckett sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Look, Ryan, I really don't want to talk about Castle."

"All right," he lifts a hand in supplication. "But don't be surprised if he comes crawling, begging you to take him back as your partner."

Yeah. Well.

Hell might freeze over first.

I love a good angst-fest but I'm pretty incapable of writing an ending that's not happy (and it's Christmas!), so just keep that in mind.

x,

Liv