AN: Still amazed at the response this little story that was only supposed to be a oneshot has gotten! I appreciate your reading and reviewing so much and really hope you enjoy this last chapter. And as always, thank you ER and Nic - without you I'd be sad and whiny and never have the nerve to post anything. I love you both!

Find Me Now – Chapter 4

"You don't know it's right until it's wrong. You don't know it's yours until it's gone. I didn't know that it was home 'til you up and left.

Come and find me now." – Josh Ritter

She almost dropped the bag of ingredients. She couldn't move. Couldn't even bring herself to shut the door behind her. What was he doing in her apartment? She didn't know what time it was exactly. But it was really late. And he hadn't called or anything. Wait…shit. She'd left her phone on her bed. Hadn't even thought about it as she'd left.

He was staring at her like he'd seen a ghost. This…she couldn't deal with this tonight. The mixture of longing and fear in his eyes was breaking her heart all over again. He looked like she'd just kicked him in the stomach. Like he'd rather be anywhere but here. But he was the one in her apartment. And she couldn't think of a single reason why.

"Castle, w-what are you doing here?" she barely managed to get out.

The words seemed to snap him from his haze. He almost looked like he'd been crying. The longer they stood there frozen, the more self-conscious she felt. Oh God, she was still in the dress. No wonder he was staring at her. She was a wreck. A thirty something version of a girl who'd just been broken up with at the prom.

At least she wasn't the only one who appeared to be at a loss for words. She watched as he opened his mouth to respond then closed it again, as if he didn't know how to explain. After a pause he finally mumbled, "You called me, Kate." And even more quietly, "Don't I always come when you call?"

She was confused. She hadn't even had her phone. Not since she'd thrown it on the bed…oh. Oh, geez. It must have dialed him when it landed, having been on his contact page last. It was probably on vibrate too. She'd never have heard it from the kitchen.

And he'd thought something was wrong. He must have, otherwise he wouldn't be here. She couldn't even begin to bring herself to decipher the subtext behind the second half of what he'd said. She felt herself deflate, suddenly so very tired again.

"I'm sorry. I sort of tossed my phone down earlier and it must have dialed you by accident," she said, sighing.

She watched as his shoulders sagged and he looked down, avoiding her eyes. "It left a weird voicemail," he mumbled again. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. But I can see that you're busy with something. So, I guess I'll be going."

He took a step towards the still open door and she felt the panic rising in her. He was here. He looked like as much of a wreck as she felt but he was here. That had to mean something, right? She'd spent the entire night wishing she could just talk to him and now he was here. Now he was leaving before she had the chance.

"Castle, wait," she called out quickly, surprising them both as she grabbed his arm, keeping him from the door.

The touch was electric. She felt it the moment her fingers wrapped around his bicep and their eyes met. The spark that still thrummed between them. She couldn't let go. She had to convince him to stay. This meant too much and she was done denying it.

"Please?" she asked, softly.

She felt him suck in a breath and his body stiffened. She reluctantly took a step back, dropping her arm and hating the loss of connection immediately.

He looked down at her, his gaze sharper, more intense. "Why?" he asked.

She shook her head, confused. "Why…what do you mean, why?"

"Give me a reason why I should stay, Beckett?"

Oh, oh Castle. Because I've never felt this ruined since my mother died. Because I can't stand the thought of losing you too. Because…I love you.

"I just…I hoped maybe we could talk."

He huffed out a laugh that echoed bitterly throughout the room. "Since when we do talk?"

She swallowed nervously and looked down at the floor. "I guess I deserve that."

She heard him sigh. "Look, Beckett, it's late. I really should –"

"I was going to make hot chocolate," she blurted out, stumbling over the words, cutting him off.

"Huh?" he looked at her, startled.

"I – I was – I went to the store to get stuff to make hot chocolate. That's what I was about to do. Just - could you stay? Have some with me? I know it's late…and that you don't owe me anything. But I know I must have done something wrong. You're upset with me. And I…"

Her voice broke and she paused for a minute trying to summon the strength to say the words.

He looked at her warily but he made no further move toward the door as he waited.

She took a deep breath. "I told you once, a long time ago, that I know I'm not the easiest person to get to know and I don't always let on what's on my mind. You're right. We talk in subtext. We avoid the direct conversations. But I want to fix this. I need to fix this. You're my partner, Castle. So please, give me a chance?"

She stood there, terrified to look for his reaction, praying her words would be enough to convince him not to walk out the door.

"Hot chocolate?" he asked, voice sounding all too weary.

She let out the breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding and raised her head, finally meeting his gaze. "Hot chocolate," she said, nodding. She closed the door at last and walked toward the stove.

He'd meant to leave. He'd been so close to escaping. One foot out the door. He could still feel her hand on his arm. Could still see her eyes pleading with him not to go, threatening tears. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd ever seen Kate Beckett cry. And she'd clearly been crying tonight. He was lost. He really had no clue why she wanted him there but since when had he ever been able to resist her?

He was already in misery. He was already never going to be able to sleep tonight, even if he left. What good did any of it do? His heart was broken. He'd seen too much, heard too much. He might as well listen to whatever it was she thought she had to say. But that didn't mean anything could be fixed.

He watched as she pulled ingredients out of the grocery bags and he pointedly ignored the letter that still sat too close for his comfort.

"This won't take long, I promise," she said, whilst pouring water into a pot on the stovetop.

He nodded half-heartedly and looked back down. As much as he wanted to pretend that this was just another night, just another visit to her place, he couldn't do it. He couldn't act like everything was fine. But he'd already done his damage earlier and still felt the shame of those two biting words…fun and uncomplicated. He couldn't bring himself to fight with her. He was just too drained. So he decided to wait her out. She said she had things to say. For what it was worth, he could listen.

It was silent for a few minutes. Only the sound of the water heating on the stove and her steps throughout the kitchen as she prepared the milk, cocoa, sugar, and salt. She laid out everything, almost reverently. And even in his weariness, he found himself entranced by the natural grace of her movements.

"My mom used to make this recipe. Mostly around Christmas but sometimes, it was like she just knew exactly when I needed something comforting. She'd always make it and we'd wrap up in blankets on the couch. I don't know. I just thought maybe, if I made it tonight, I'd have a small part of that feeling again. That maybe I'd find some piece of hope that things would be alright again."

He listened to her speak, his writer's mind creating the scene. He could so vividly see it, this younger, less guarded Kate. Coming home from school after a fight with a friend, a bad grade on a test, perhaps a break up with a boyfriend. Still determined, still stubborn but, smaller, more easily bruised, only traces of the future Beckett. A Kate who had allowed her mother to hold her, comfort her, convince her that there were things left to believe in.

All the things that he'd wished so desperately she'd allow him to be for her. All the things he apparently wasn't good enough for. Yet, he was here now, and she was giving him another one of these small pieces of her past. And he just had to know. Had to ask.

"What are you hoping for, Kate?"

She met his eyes, seemed to be willing something to him that he couldn't comprehend. The depths of green mixed with hazel shone brightly in the glow of the light, glimmering with a desperation he hadn't seen since the day she was dying in his arms.

"I was hoping for you, Castle," she said softly.

Hoping for him? But…she'd had him. Had him all along. Right there for four years and it hadn't done a damn bit of good in any of this.

"Hoping for what, Kate? That I'd go back to following you around every day, waiting around for something I'll never have. I can't do it anymore. I won't do it anymore," he emphasized, feeling the anger rise again.

She was turned away, finally mixing the cocoa and milk into the water, but he saw her freeze at his words.

He wasn't done, though. Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. She had unleashed the dam of emotions inside him. If they were going to do this - actually talk - he was going to say what he needed to say.

She turned to face him, finally, her skin pale and hands shaking as she set down the mugs she'd prepared.

"I know you heard me, Kate. That day…in the cemetery. I know you've been lying to me all this time. And now, tonight, I see this letter here," he said, voice cracking with pain, as he gestured toward the pages.

Her mouth opened and shut, the words dying on her lips before she could speak, as the realization spread across her features. Pain and regret written all over her face. Like she knew exactly what she'd done. Exactly how much she'd hurt him.

"I shouldn't have read it, it's yours and it's private, but everything else has already gone to hell so I figured at this point what's one more dagger to my heart. What's one more indication of how little you care?"

Her eyes were brimming with tears, the hot chocolate forgotten behind her.

"Castle," she breathed, his name barely a whisper on her lips. He could see her crumbling with each passing second, as the silence seemed to stretch forever in the space between them.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she spoke the words so quietly he almost couldn't hear them.

She looked like she couldn't breathe. Her fingers gripped the countertop, as though she may fall apart if she let go.

His throat clogged. How had they gotten to this point? As angry and hurt as he was, he could hardly bear to see her this way either. Like he'd just sucked all of the life out of her. He simultaneously hated himself for hurting her and hated her for hurting him. This was all a mistake coming here tonight. He'd been wrong. It could get worse, this was worse.

"You should have just told me. If you'd just said it back then, maybe we could have salvaged a friendship. It would have hurt. But it'd have been better than this. Don't you think, Kate? Don't you think you owed me more than stringing me along all this time?" he finished, voice breaking, as his own tears threatened.

"Castle, no, that's not…" her voice trailed off, as if she didn't know where to start, and he cut her off, continuing.

"When you left that summer, it felt like you'd actually died that day. I kept waiting and waiting for you to call. To have any reassurance that you were okay. It was bad enough then, always waiting for a call that never came. A call you didn't care enough to make. But to find out you knew how I felt, and you still didn't call, not even once…"

He hung his head, couldn't bear to watch her cry, even with his own heart shattered and broken, he never wanted to see her cry.

"I don't know how to fix this," she choked out, voice wavering. "I was selfish, I know that. I never…I never meant to make you feel this way. I never meant to string you along. God, Castle, I never meant to hurt you in this. Damnit, that's why I left, that's why I've been working on everything. So that I wouldn't hurt you…and that's all I've done isn't it?"

She paused for a moment, and his breath caught in his lungs as he waited.

"There's not a day that went by that I didn't want to call you. Just to hear your voice, your laugh. I was such a wreck. I felt like I'd died too. Part of me wished I'd died that day. I was suffocating with a hole in my chest and I didn't deserve your words. I couldn't find a single reason why you'd mean them, why I'd be worthy of them," she paused, her voice breaking again.

He stared at her, unbelieving, his own eyes glistening, as he watched her struggle with the words. He wanted to run, he wanted to forget the last year, he wanted to pull her towards him, catch her tears with his thumb, kiss them away. But she wasn't his. She didn't love him back.

"You words are everything to me, Castle," she whispered. She took a shaky breath, trying to gather the strength to say what she needed to say. "They're such a large part of what healed me. They gave me the strength to get better. To come back. To finally face things instead of running," she continued, voice growing stronger, as she walked toward him.

"I've been working so hard to do everything I could to be in a place where we had a real chance. To be able to say them back to you if I ever was worth…your love," she finished, looking him in the eye, the depths of her emotion nearly overpowering him.

He could hardly believe what she was saying. The heaviness of the lies and the betrayal he felt still clung bitterly to his heart.

"But you lied," he said, voice full of unspoken questions. "You lied all this time. Every day knowing how I felt. How could you do that if you…" he asked, voice trailing off, suddenly unsure of all he'd been telling himself.

"I was scared, Castle, scared of everything. Scared that if you knew that I knew, you wouldn't wait. Scared that you would wait and I'd never be good enough, never be what you needed. I just…I couldn't lose you," she said, ashamed.

"So you used me, Kate? Did what you needed to do, said just enough to keep me around, following after you like a puppy," he said bitterly.

"Of course I didn't want you to leave, Castle. You bring such joy to my days. You make me laugh, keep me from drowning in the darkness of my job. But, I wasn't trying to use you. I'd never use you," she said, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"Then, why not just tell me you don't feel the same, Kate?" He could barely get the words out. This was it. He'd forced her hand, forced her to own up to it. And it was going to kill him. But he had to hear it. Had to confirm it before he could walk away and try to begin to recover from the loss of all he'd hoped for since he'd realized she was it for him.

Her eyes snapped to his immediately, widening in shock, her mouth falling open, sick with fear. "That's really what you think?" she asked, incredulous. "How could you believe that?"

He shook his head, defeated, suddenly feeling childish. "What else should I think?" he replied. "You run away, lie about hearing me, admit it like it's nothing to a suspect, hang onto this letter from Royce all this time, never saying anything, never doing anything but leading me on."

She stepped even closer, coming around the counter to stand beside him, and swallowed nervously before speaking.

"Oh, Castle," she spoke softly, regret shining in her eyes. "You're so very wrong."

He looked down at her, waiting for her to continue, terrified, lost, and confused. Wrong?

"I thought you…understood, that day on the swings. I told you I wanted to be better. To have the kind of relationship I wanted. To be whole again."

He nodded ever so slightly. "I remember," he said, voice low, gruff with emotion.

"Well, I want to say it again. I need you to understand. I want to be better for you, Castle. For us," she continued, reaching up to frame his face with her hands, swiping her thumb across his cheek to catch a tear he hadn't even realized had fallen.

"I've screwed it all up. I know that. But, Castle, I've been in love with you since long before you ever said those words to me."

He felt like he was going to pass out. His mind was spinning. He couldn't be hearing her right. It wasn't possible. She wasn't…she was in love with him? All the smiles, the subtext, the touches that he'd hope meant something - the ones he'd thought he'd imagined, played in his head again. She loved him? She loved him, too.

Her voice grew stronger, emboldened as she continued to speak. As though she'd only ever needed to say it once. To give him the words. "I am so in love with you, Castle, that the thought of you walking out of my apartment tonight…the thought of you walking out of my life is unbearable. And I understand if I'm too late but I had to say it…I had to tell you-"

His mouth was on hers before he could stop himself. He cradled her body in his arms, wrapped himself around her, pulled her closer as he poured everything into the kiss. Oh God, they'd both been such fools all this time. They both made mistakes. She loved him. She was in love with him.

She was moaning into his mouth, as she kissed him back feverishly, opening to him. His hands tangled in her hair when she cradled his face, ran her fingers over his ears, finally came to rest at the nape of his neck. He was kissing her and she loved him.

He'd never felt like this before. He broke from her mouth to pepper kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Laid his hand against the scar on her chest, reverently, before looking up to meet her eyes again. He'd replayed the memories of their first kiss in the alley a million times. But this was…this was different. This was everything. She loved him too. And even though his heart ached with the strain of the day, the weeks, the year, somehow he knew they would survive this together.

He was kissing her. He was kissing her like she was the only person on earth and she was melting into his arms. It'd never been like this with anyone else. She was on fire, burning in his embrace, solid and healing around her. She couldn't stop the moan from escaping as his tongue slipped into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She was surrounded by him, by everything they'd finally said, by the love that had given her the strength to rebuild herself without the wall around her heart. And she never wanted him to stop. Oh, she loved him.

She'd nearly fallen apart in front of him in the kitchen. The mournful sound of his words as he'd admitted his belief that she didn't love him – would never love him – they were like a knife to her heart. How could he have ever thought that? How could she have screwed this up so incredibly much?

There were still a hundred things that needed to be said. They were both still damaged, still reeling from the mistakes and lies and misunderstandings. But when they finally broke apart, breathless, foreheads resting against each other, she knew it was going to be okay. He still loved her. She hadn't lost him.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered against her cheek. "God, I'm so sorry Kate. I just want you. All I've ever wanted was you."

And then it was her kissing him. Their apologies and forgiveness poured into the way their mouths slanted together, soothing, comforting, easing the pain. She'd spend a million days working to repair them if that's what it took. Anything, just to feel the touch of his hands, his mouth against hers, his love.

She felt the weight of the last year being lifted from her chest. Could finally breathe again.

And standing there, wrapped up in his embrace, she knew that regardless of their mistakes, she'd never give up on this, on him. This man who'd shown her how to live again. It felt like she was finally coming home.

Thoughts?