WOW! You guys are completely and totally AWESOMESAUCE! Your reviews and insight into my first chapter totally blew me away! And yes, y'all convinced me to do this from Castle's perspective.

Now you should all know - I really struggled with this one (hence the long delay). Getting inside Richard Castle's mind is no small feat I assure you! It's really a big part of what I love about this show and how well written and fleshed out the characters are - you have Beckett on the one hand, who on the surface is the more guarded of the two, but about who's past we know so much more about - Castle, on the other hand, appears to be an open book, so to speak, but the man has so many layers, and the writers only throw us a small morsel of his true self every now and again. I love it.

That said, it makes it very difficult to write a piece that tries to get inside his head. I hope that I could do his character justice.

disclaimer: I scream, you scream, we all scream for...well I'd love to say ownership - but really, I think they're in pretty good hands ;)

Chapter 2

"Well then why do you keep coming back, Rick?"

It was like a slap in the face.

She was pushing him away and he knew it, but damned if he knew how to stop her from closing that door and building up her walls again.

He thought about how she could do all of that with just a name. He often liked to quote the great masters, and who else but Shakespeare had once so astutely asked "What's in a name? Would a rose by any other name smell so sweet?"

He was a man who went by many names.

Richard Alexander Rodgers

The name he was born with. The name given to him, to the man who had no father. The name given to the lost boy, trailing after his mother's skirts wishing for nothing more than a place in the world that belonged to him. An identity that was his and his alone.

Richard Edgar Castle

The name he chose for himself. An ode to the true master of the macabre. An aspiration towards being something more than he had been his whole life.

Richard

Only two people had ever called him by that name: his mother, and Meredith. He hadn't been lying when he'd told his mother that he'd married Meredith because she had reminded him of her. How very Freudian.

Rick

'Rick' was the man of the hour. The poker buddy. The man with the smirk on his face and the glint of mischief in his eye. It was the name that Kiera had called him by before he had become 'Rick Castle'. After she left him though, it was the name that he gave to the rest of the world. It was the name that only let people look at the surface so they couldn't see the lost little boy hiding behind his own fame. It was a name that he could live by and live with; it was the man that he had become and he wasn't ashamed of it.

In fact, it was never something he had ever given a whole terrible amount of thought to until she used it. For whatever reason, when it fell out of that mouth, was uttered from those lips, it became a name that he suddenly hated.

"Castle"

It was who he was to her. It was the name that she used, of all the women in his life that he cared about or had cared about. It was strange, in many ways, how that name, of all the names he had and that he were used by the people in his life, that was name that she clung to.

He had never heard his name take on so many meanings, emotions and layers as when she barked it, whispered it, breathed it, or simply spoke it. He loved how it sounded, no matter the emotion that she charged it with.

But now, that other name. It sounded hard.

Harsh.

Afraid.

He looks across at her now and is fighting to understand how they came to this. In front of him stands a woman who is trying desperately to hold on to the last piece of her self-control, while he desperately needs her to let it go. And he does the only thing that he can think of; he lets her see it all.

He takes off the mask, all of the masks. The man that stands before her now has no name. He is the lost boy seeking approval and attention. He is the grown man trying to fight for the woman that he loves. He is the sweet man-child who wants nothing more than to see her smile.

And he speaks with more sincerity and earnestness than he has ever spoken with in his life or in his books.

"Like it or not, I'm your plucky side-kick"

"Plucky side-kick always gets killed"

"Partner, then."

He sees it then, sitting down on her sofa, opening the file and holding her eyes with his own; he'll have to let her in if he wants to be let in. And that scares the shit out of him.

"Ok, what have you got."

FIN

There you have it boys and girls! I hope that I did not disappoint! Also, I realised that I misquoted Beckett for the very last line - though the idea remains the same - and I didn't change it b/c I wanted to keep unity with the first chapter. I may also have misquoted Shakespeare at the beginning, but frankly, am far too lazy to look that one up...

A very special thank you to my wonderful reviewers! You keep me writing when I start to think that it just doesn't matter anymore :)

Shout outs to knittingeek, whimorawhy, Beckett NYPD and Nathan Fan - I can't believe you guys are still with me after all 7 chapters of 'Colder'.

(in passing - yes, there will be a sequel to that one - I'm just getting a full outline in order so I know where it's going BEFORE I start to write this time ;) )

And to all of my first time reviewers - you guys are awesome! Thank you to: xxxBekaForEvaXXX, Heidiho16, Charlie O'Kelley (btw - LOVE your 'Comfort' fic!), Dani Pink Cloud, Danidannidanny, Jjf, lauwer, Ariana Dawn, Merryk, eLynda, Kaz, brodie-wan, Eyrianone, KBtheMD, Rollinginfla, and Lmontay!

Big happy hearts all around!

Cheers! ^_^