For the reviewer who said:

"One sided relationship and double standard, enough said."

because clearly we are not watching the same show.

They were curled up in her bed because she hadn't kicked him out, him in a pair of sweats he had left over with her one night when he'd stayed over. He was leaning against her pillows, her head lying against his t-shirt covered stomach, facing away from him, his fingers playing with her hair, unable to fall asleep.

She didn't know.

"You don't trust me," he whispered, twirling the ends of her ponytail around his finger.

She shifted again him, turning slowly so his fingers fell from her hair until she was facing him. He let his hand settled on her side, his fingers resting absently against the fabric of her sleep shirt, the buttons resting crookedly along her skin where the cotton had gotten stuck underneath her hips as she moved.

"You know I do," she whispered.

He shook his head slightly, his fingers curling against her shirt.

"I know you trust me with your life," he said, matching her tone, "and as your partner…" he let his fingers trail up her side, until his fingers brushed over her chest, directly over her heart, "… but not with this."

She stared at him for a moment, averting her eyes for a moment.

"I don't trust anyone with it," she whispered, almost like she was ashamed. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his, linking them together and pulling them away from her chest before looking up at him, "But I want to. I want to be as giving as you are to me."

He nodded, giving her a small smile like that was enough but she knew it wasn't. She stared at him, a look in his eyes that she had seen before peeking out past his mask.

There was love there. And a tiny little bit of acceptance and… and…


She felt the air leave her lungs in a rush at the realization.

"You think I'm going to break your heart," she whispered.

He looked at her sadly for only a moment before his gaze wandered down to their linked fingers.

"You certainly have the power to," he murmured noncommittally.

She realized just how true that was.

He'd been cheated on by his ex-wives.

He was left raising his daughter alone, where no one knew the real him and no one wanted to because he had money and a recognizable last name and that was enough for most people.

She hurt him when she dated Demming.

Hurt him again when she dated Josh even after they kissed in that alley and none of that had been fake.

She hurt him worse when she kicked him out of her life for three months after she'd been shot and never called.

Hurt him the worst when she lied to him, told her that she didn't know he loved her.


She's already broken his heart, hadn't she?

The realization felt like a punch in the stomach.

She sat up on her bed, watching as his eyes clouded over, obviously thinking that he said something wrong and she was so sick of that. He shouldn't have to walk on eggshells around her.

When she was upright, she tossed one of her legs of his stomach, his hands immediately on her hips to steady her as her hands fell to her shoulders.

"I can't promise that I won't mess this up," she said, her thumbs rubbing down over his collarbones as he inhaled deeply at her words.

"I can't promise I won't run from you. Or shut you out," she continued her voice low, his eyes never leaving her face.

She laughed softly before biting her lip, dropping her eyes from his, her fingers making patterns on his shirt.

"Do you remember when I met Kyra?" she felt him startle underneath her, but she pressed on, "And I told you that I didn't think you did 'real'?" she looked up at him and gave him a sad smile, "It turns out I'm the one who can't do it."

"Kate…" he started to say, but she cut him off with a soft shake of her head.

"Castle, you were right when you told me last year that I was hiding. Because I was; I was hiding from real. I was hiding from you."

He looked at her, his eyes shining suspiciously.

"I'm not the writer in his relationship," she said, shaking her head as she dropped her gaze down to his t-shit, "and I don't have the pretty words you do to try and fix how badly I've hurt you in the past… but Castle…"

She paused, biting her lip, trying to find the words.

"I promise that I'll try. I'll try to fix it. I'll try to come back. Because this…" she let her palm rest against his heart, her whispered words falling between them, "… This is much too special for me to break any more than I already have. I'm sorry that I've hurt you so much because you–"

"Is it still too soon?"


She looked at him, saw the emotion burning behind his eyes and she still didn't understand where he was going but suddenly he was sitting upright. Her hands clenched around his t-shirt as he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other coming up to cup the side of her neck as he pressed his lips to hers softly, kissing her gently, not trying to ignite any passion, or push her farther than she wanted to go, but just needing to kiss the words from her lips.

Her eyes fell shut and he kissed her for a moment longer, just the light, delicious, weight of his lips against hers before he pulled away, moving to wrap her tighter in his embrace.

She breathed him in, wrapping her arms around his torso and closing her eyes.

This wouldn't go away overnight. The insecurities would linger and the doubt would creep in from time to time. She knew that. And she could tell he knew it too. But they would try; for themselves because this was too important to mess up, for each other because they deserved the best; for them, together, because they could do this and they could continue to still be amazing.

She smiled, pressing a kiss against his cotton covered heart.

They could make this work.

okay, now it's seriously complete.