Disclaimer: Yeah, it'll never be mine.

Summary: "To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now." -Samuel Beckett

Messy Together (3/3)

She's barely awake.

He's asleep beside her – half underneath her – but she can't let herself slip into the black yet. He's warm and comfortable – and everything she never knew she really wanted.

She traces slow, rhythmic circles on his chest with her index finger. He's still holding onto her, one arm wrapped around her where she's curled into him.

She's happy here.

She didn't even realize that she hadn't been truly happy until she suddenly was.

The storm has slowed to a gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows. The thunder has stopped, the lightening long gone.

Her body is exhausted. Sated and relaxed. But there's still a war raging in her brain. Everything she thought she was had changed in one night.

For the first time since she was twelve she was completely unemployed. She had gone right from babysitting to working at the college bookstore to being a cop. What was she going to do with herself?

You're going to be with Castle, that's what.

There's more to you than the NYPD.

There has to be. Somewhere.

She looks up from where her head has been resting on his shoulder. He's been here for everything. Everything may have stirred up again with his initial arrival, but he has never left her side for any of it.

Not really.

The moment he left – the one time he was really gone – she realized just how much she needs him. Because she wasn't lying when she said he was all she could think about when she was literally hanging on for her life. His face was all she saw, his voice all she heard.

And then he took her back.

Because he loves you.

He loves her. It still makes her grin, even though he's told her at least four more times since she showed up drenched and desperate for him.

She kisses his cheek, laughing softly when he mutters in his sleep. She sinks back down into the mattress, pulling the sheet tighter around them. And lacing her fingers through his, she lets herself sleep.

When she stirs there's bright sunlight streaming through the windows and across the bed. She can feel his hand on her side, his fingers tracing lazy circles against her hip.

"Morning," he whispers.

She looks up at him with a smile.

"Great morning," she clarifies.

"Really?" He looks so hopeful and pleased.

"Really," she nods, kisses him, catching him off guard. His hand comes up to the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. "Castle?" She asks, her voice strained from yelling and crying and sleep, "Are we okay?"

He laughs. "I think we're more than okay."

Her gaze narrows. "I'm serious."

"So am I. I told you," he pauses, trying to decide if he can go ahead and say it or not, but at this point, where the hell is the line holding him back? "I love you. I'm here. And you're here."

She tugs the sheet up around her as she sits up. Her fingers catch his, her eyes questioning and concerned. "You were really gone this time. For the first time since I met you I was actually alone, and I didn't want to- I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

I didn't want to die without making it here.

"Kate," he mirrors her position, kisses her knuckles, "you won't be alone ever again. I promise. The next time you're in a life or death situation, I'll be right there with you."

"Castle, I don't know if that's going to happen again. Ever."

"Come on, Kate, you of all people know there's no certainty in what you do."

"Did." She freezes when she realizes that she still hasn't told him everything. He finagled the hanging off of a building part, but that was it. She still doesn't know that she's just Kate Beckett now. Not 'Detective.'

He squints at her, head tilted, inquisitive. "What?"

"I, ah," she twists the edge of the sheet with her fingers, "I resigned." It comes out as a whisper, and she can't meet his eyes.

"You what?"

She shakes her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Gates ripped into us. Esposito and me. After Ryan told her where we went. It was supposed to just be administrative leave, but…"

"You resigned."

"Yeah." She's desperate when she looks back at him. Desperate for him to understand. "I'm sorry."

Desperate for him to forgive her.

"Come here."

Her chest is heaving as he pulls her into his lap. It's all flashing in her eyes – the sniper, the freezer, the bomb, the second bomb, the bank – yet another bomb – the tiger, the river, and now an edge of a freaking building.

"It's okay," he soothes, "Everything's going to be okay."

"What did I do Rick?" Is she shaking? Possibly. "I quit. Gates is pissed. Esposito's suspended. And Kevin's…there. And it's all my fault." He's rocking her, assuring her.

"I saw his face." She reaches for his face and he kisses her palm. "The man who shot me. Looked right into his eyes. I begged for him to just tell me who hired him, but of course he wouldn't. I don't even know what I was thinking. And when I tried fighting him off…he didn't even flinch."

He turns her around to face him. "Hey, we'll figure it out. But you have to let me help. Not just the easy stuff. I told you, I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. Not again."

"I know," she nods into his neck. "I know. I just, don't want to be without you again. It's kind of boring."

He laughs. It's warm and deep and loving. "I knew you'd cave eventually."

"I didn't cave, exactly." She's arguing, and she knows it. It's pathetic. But it's what they do.

At least something hasn't changed.

"I'm just used to having constant amusement."

"You so caved."

"No! I didn't."

"Call it what you will Kate. You're the one who wants me around."

"Yes," she pokes him in the shoulder, "And you're not leaving. And neither am I."

"Never again," he leans down to kiss her. "You and me."

He's here. And she's here. And they're together.

And even though everything hurts, it feels better with him.

Thoughts? Always a pleasure!

-Tappin
:D