Disclaimer: Be happy I don't own them

All mistakes are my own.

Small talk, he drives

She finds herself outside his door a few minutes before midnight and for the first time that night she begins to question whether or not she should even be here.

They've been weird lately, well, weirder than usual, but she can feel herself reverting back to how she was in the summer, in the months following her shooting, and she needs to get out, needs to escape the city's tight confines, and soon, but she can't (won't) allow herself to go alone. She knows that Lanie and her father are both busy – or so she tells herself – so she's left hoping that Castle will still be there for her when she needs him.

She raises her hand to knock then, decides she's going to have to face her fate with him at some point, and the sooner she does so the better.

She waits. But he doesn't come.

So she knocks again. Louder this time, more persistent, praying to a god she's not even sure she believes in anymore that he'll answer, that despite whatever is going on between them, that he'll be able to save her.

And he does open the door. Eventually.

"What do you want, Beckett?" It's harsh, the way he says it, and she tries, she really tries to seem as though she isn't affected, but she is, and his tone hurts and she finds tears welling in her eyes, tears she really doesn't want him to see. So she does what she always does, she starts to retract, starts to run.

"Oh, um, never mind," She gives him a small smile, one that definitely doesn't reach her watery eyes as she walks backwards down the hall. She feels the panic rising in her, tries to contain it for just long enough to get out of here, to get somewhere that he won't see her, won't witness what he's managing to escape. "It was stupid, sorry, I'll just… go."

She turns then, facing away from him as she walks towards the elevator, tries to even out her breathing, tries to stop the tears in her eyes from falling, at least until she's gone, out of his sight and presumably his mind.

"Beckett," She stops at his voice, sounding gentler than it did previously, still laced with an edge of something she can't place, but she doesn't turn, doesn't risk it. "What's wrong?"

She wants to laugh at this situation they're in, at how just moments ago he was basically telling her he didn't want her here and now he's asking why she's leaving. She doesn't laugh though, doesn't turn either, but she decides to answer him, decides that while she may no longer be his first – or last – choice, he's still hers.

"I need to leave." She doesn't share anymore, decides that if he wants to know, wants to care, then he can ask for some elaboration; that will tell her at least if there's a possibility of leaving the city with him.

"Are you okay?" His voice sounds closer now, he must have walked out in the hall after her, she can't be sure though. She thinks for a moment, contemplates her response. Is she okay? No, not right now.

"I'm as okay as I can be."

That works.

"Is someone after you?"

Oh.

Oh.

She looks down. He thinks she's being forced out of the city, that she's just coming to try to get him to help her escape.

And that's not true… until she realizes that it is.

Maybe she isn't being chased out of the city by a physical entity, but she is being chased by something.

"No," She decides is an appropriate answer. "I just need to leave, get out, not be here."

He's in front of her then, she sees his shoes in her peripheral view, her eyes focused on some spot on the carpeted floor.

"Kate," She looks up at him then, hopes that the tears are no longer swimming in her eyes, hopes that she doesn't look like as big of a mess as she feels. "What's going on?"

"I need to leave the city. I can't be here right now." She hopes her picks up on her silent request, please come with me.

"Where do you need to go?"

Good, he's showing interest, asking questions, that's what she needs right now.

"Anywhere, Castle, I don't care, I just can't handle the city." He's staring at her still, so she continues, the rest of her thoughts coming out more rushed than intended, the panic she was suppressing beginning to make its way back. "It's too tight, too much. I need to breathe. I need to breathe and I can't and I need to leave."

"Okay."

He doesn't say anything else, doesn't answer her unasked question as to whether or not he'll come with her, save her from being alone.

She stands there for a minute, waits to see if he'll continue, but he just stares at her blankly so she asks him herself.

"Will you come?" The words escape her on a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding. "Please?"

She's pleading now, something she would have berated herself for months ago, but now she's too far gone to care.

He stares at her for a moment, appears to be contemplating her request, causing her stomach to tighten because if he isn't sure right away it's clear he doesn't want to go.

She starts to leave then, begins to walk around him before he halts her progress.

"Wait here." He says calmly as he walks back into the loft. She does as her asks, waits, because, well, what other option does she have. But he asked her to wait, and that has to mean something because he wouldn't ask her to stay there if he was planning to leave and not come back. No, he's coming back, he's going to take her somewhere, he has to.

"Let's go." She hears him before she sees him, but he has his keys and phone in his hand and the door to the loft is shut and he's walking past her on the way to the elevator and she's just stuck in her place. "Are you coming?"

"Oh, yeah," She smiles at him, not a big one, but it's something given her current state, and she hopes that he appreciates, realizes it means a lot coming from her, especially right now. "Thank you."

He doesn't reply, just holds the elevator door open for her when the car arrives and presses the button to take them to the parking garage once she's on.

They ride in silence. He places his hand on the small of the back as they exit the elevator, as he guides her to the car. It's not the Ferrari, which she's thankful for, instead a black BMW, still nicer than anything she would drive, but less obtrusive, less flashy, and exactly what she needs right now.

"So, where are we going?" Rick asks once they're both settled in the car. She's sitting with her feet up on the seat and her thighs pressed tight to her chest, resting her head on her knees as she looks at him, thinks of where to go.

"I don't know. Anywhere?" But by the look he's giving her she knows he won't accept that answer, needs somewhere exact, somewhere she views as safe. "My dad's cabin?"

"Okay," She sighs, maybe out of relief that he said okay. She hasn't been back since summer, but it's a place she feels safe, and right now that's all she really needs. "What's the address?"

The first hour of the drive is silent, apart from the occasional small talk. It's bordering on the line of awkward and not, and she can't decide which side they've fallen on.

"Thank you." She says eventually, deciding the silence has gone on for long enough, that some sort of actual conversation needs to happen at some point, so she may as well try to start it now. "Again."

"No problem."

His reply is void of emotion and she's honestly just confused. If he doesn't want to be around her, doesn't want to associate with her anymore, why is he here? Why did he even bother coming with her?

She's not sure if she should bring up their problems. Not right now, at least, not when he's so kindly helping her escape her problems, because really, that's all she's doing. Escaping. Running. Again.

So she holds her tongue, decides to wait until they reach the cabin to say anything more. That way he's allowed the chance to leave. That way they're both allowed the chance to be alone with their thoughts, instead of trapped in a car forced into voicing their feelings.

They arrive at the cabin a bit past two. She steps out of her car and begins to walk to the cabin, waiting for him to follow. She doesn't have a bag, neither does he. She assumes he forgot his in the haste of leaving, while she simply didn't care enough at the time to pack one.

He's a few steps behind her when she gets to the door. She bends down in search of the spare key, tries to remember where her dad left it after the summer. She finds it after she checks a few places (it was under a plant, how cliché) and stands back up to open the door.

She walks in, holding the door open for Rick, and takes a moment to breathe it all in. It's been nine months, she realizes, since she's been here. Nine months since she returned to civilization.

"So, this is it," Rick murmurs, turning to look at Kate. "This is where you spent the last summer."

"Yeah." She replies, barely audible. It's weird having him here, which is something she didn't even consider a possibility. It's weird because the entire last summer she was here wishing he could be with her here, only in different circumstances, and now they're here, together, and she doesn't know how to feel.

"How does it feel being back?"

"It feels… weird. I mean, I was such a mess last summer, I could barely get through the day and being here back then was hard, but now…" She shrugs.

"Now?"

"I don't know… apart from the fact that I had just been shot, it's kind of the same circumstances as before."

Castle doesn't reply, just furrows his brow in confusion and tilts his head the slightest bit to the left, a look that urges her to continue on.

"I mean, I came here last time to escape the confines of the city, to heal… isn't that why I'm here now?"

And it is, she realizes. She needs to heal still. She won't stay here for months on end this time, probably only for tonight - or is it today now? - but she's still here to heal nonetheless, to get away from Manhattan.

"You're here to heal?" He sounds confused by that, and maybe he is. Maybe her 'I'm fine' act is better than she thought. Maybe he actually believed her when she said she was okay.

"Physically, I'm fine, but, god, Rick, emotionally I'm such a fucking mess." She waits for an interruption that doesn't come, not in any form more than an arch of an eyebrow, so she continues. "I mean I can't even be in the city right now without feeling like the world's caving in on me. I can't make it more than a few nights without being haunted by nightmares. I still have panic attacks. I can't even think of entering a relationship. I'm trying, I really am, but even therapy can't fix my mess of a life."

She's crying now, though she's barely aware until Rick's coming closer to her. Until his hand is cupping her face and his thumb is wiping at the tears trailing down her face.

"Hey," He whispers and her heart breaks at how gentle he's being, at how this is the most he's seemed to care in weeks, and that thought alone makes her choke out a loud sob. "It's okay. It's okay to be a mess, it's okay to not to be okay, but trust me, you aren't as fucked up as you think you are."

She doesn't answer him, just stares at him before wrapping her arms around him, anchoring herself to him, and letting the tears take over.

"You're trying, Kate, and that's all anyone can ask of you. But if you think you're wrecked beyond repair then you're wrong, okay?"

A sound escapes her that she's not even sure she recognizes, but he seems to take it as her agreeing with him.

He manages to guide them to the couch (thank god the living room is right by the entryway) before she collapses. He holds her against him, lets her cry, get everything out, for the better part of an hour. Let's her tears stain his shirt, let's her nails dig into the skin at his shoulders until she feels as though she's okay. Well, as okay as she can be.

They sit in silence for a bit after that, her arms still wrapped around him, though looser than before, and her head still pressed against his chest.

"Castle?" She speaks after a while, voice rough with from both tears and disuse.

"Mm?" He hums in reply.

"How could you have loved me?" She knows she's confessing to her lie by saying this, but it doesn't matter much anymore. Not when the love is in the past, not when he's already pulling away from her.

And he does pull away from her, although this time she expects it. This time she's prepared.

So she moves away, too. Untangles her arms from around his torso and moves to rest against the arm of the couch, stares at him intently from her new spot just a foot or so away from him.

They watch each other for a moment, she analyzes the hurt on his face, but notices that lack of surprise accompanying it. He knows.

Everything clicks then. He's been pulling away because he knows that she remembers somehow and he's hurt and oh this isn't what she wanted, not at all. But she doesn't know what to do, she doesn't know how to make everything alright for him so she just sits there, waits for him to talk, and hopes that she'll somehow be able to make this right.

A/N: Hey guys, I started this as a drabble and it somehow turned into 2500 words so whoops... will is going to be a two shot so I'll hopefully have the next chapter up soon (exams are next week though, so we'll see what my level of procrastination is)

Let me know what you think x