Disclaimer: Not my characters. Never were, never will be.

Author's Note: So... I realize it's a little late for a post-ep, but... it took me awhile to write this for some reason, and there hasn't been another one yet, so I'm not officially late. Hope you like it. :) If nothing else, maybe it'll keep you occupied before Castle tonight. :)

"Castle?"

He didn't move. He was looking in the direction of the murder board, but his eyes were unfocused. The coffee she'd given him twenty minutes ago rested on the desk beside him, untouched. All morning he'd been going through the motions without enthusiasm, barely even saying anything unless he was directly addressed. And now she had directly addressed him and it didn't even seem like he'd heard her. At first she'd figured he was just tired or something and it would pass, but now it was starting to frustrate her.

"Castle!"

He jumped, and turned to look at her. "What? Oh, sorry. Can you just repeat what you said? I'm listening, I swear."

"I didn't say anything, I was just trying to get your attention. Which has been kind of a daunting task today. What's going on?"

"Nothing, I just didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night. I'll try to focus."

"You don't have to be here, you know. You can go home."

"But you have a case. I'm consulting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Mr. Consultant, tell me what this case is about."

"Murder," he replied instantly.

She smirked. "I stand corrected. I can't imagine how I'd function without insights like that."

"I don't know how I do it."

She shook her head. "Go home, Rick. Take a nap if you're really that tired, then come back later."

He looked around guiltily. "You sure you don't need me here?"

"Yeah. You're not doing me much good anyway. I'll see you later."

"Okay… see ya."

"Hey," she stopped him before he completely turned away. She lowered her voice so that she was sure only he could hear. "You sure you're okay?"

He forced a smile, which she found a little insulting. After as long as she'd known him, did he really think she couldn't tell when he was pretending? "Yeah, of course."

She didn't believe him, but she nodded. "Alright. I'll call you when I'm off duty."

"Perfect."

She watched as he left on the elevator, flashing him a quick smile that he didn't see. As the doors closed, she glanced at the still-full coffee cup that he'd left behind. He wasn't tired, he was distracted. He had been for awhile now. There was something he wasn't telling her. She just couldn't figure out what.

Through a stroke of luck, she found the boys in the otherwise-empty break room. "Where's Castle?" Ryan asked, by way of greeting.

"Sent him home. He's been kinda out of it lately. Either of you have any idea why?"

"If you don't know, I don't know how we would."

"But you've noticed."

"Now that you mention it, yeah," Esposito cut in. "Ever since Alexis was kidnapped."

She frowned, not having made that connection. But he was right, it had started around that time. "You think that has something to do with it? Alexis is back, she's fine."

"But Alexis isn't the only one who went to France. How much do we really know about what he saw over there?"

Until now, she'd just accepted that Castle had told her everything. But now that Espo mentioned it, his story seemed thin. Like maybe he'd left something out. "You think it's some kind of PTSD?"

"I don't think we can know unless he's gonna talk."

"But it's been almost three weeks."

"Doesn't matter. You know that as well as I do. If something happened… it doesn't just go away."

"Alright… what about the case? Any new leads?"

"Nothing earth-shattering," Ryan said. "CSU found some prints at the scene, we're running them down."

"We got it, Beckett. Go check on Castle"

She shook her head. "No. I told him I'd call after work. I'll give him some space until then."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

She spent the day focusing as much on the case as she could possibly manage, trying not to think about Castle. She knew that as soon as her mind went there, she wouldn't get it back, and she was determined to wait until after work. But that didn't stop her from checking her phone. A lot.

The boys were still working when they insisted they didn't need her anymore and sent her home. She didn't argue, and speed dialed him before she even got off the elevator.

She scowled when it went to voicemail. Maybe he just hadn't heard his phone ring, but she hated it when he didn't answer. And she'd told him that she'd be calling, so he should've been expecting her. "Hey, just got done with work," she told his voicemail. "I'm coming over, see you in a few."

Martha answered the door and her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the last time this had happened. "Is he here?" she asked, skipping the greeting.

Martha smiled, sensing her uneasiness. "He's in his study. I'm sure you can go right in."

She didn't need to be told twice. She did knock, but when he didn't immediately answer she let herself in. She found him at his desk, absorbed in his laptop. She figured he was writing and sat down to wait, closing the door behind her. But he still hadn't looked away from the screen when she heard the synthetic whirr of cards being shuffled.

She hit his desk with the heel of her hand, demanding his attention. "So you're, what, playing solitaire? Don't tell me you didn't hear me come in."

"I heard you," he said, eyes still on his screen.

"And you didn't think you should say something, or you know, maybe glance in my direction?"

He shrugged. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"I'd rather talk to you than the back of your computer." He made no response to that, and finally she gave up and pushed the laptop closed. "Okay, tell me," she challenged, meeting his tired eyes, "are you mad at me for something?"

He shook his head. "What? No. Of course not. I told you before, I'm just tired."

"Well, you had all day to rest, so you don't get to use that as an excuse anymore. What is it, really?"

He frowned down at the closed laptop in front of him. "I suck at solitaire."

She rolled her eyes and tried to soften her expression. As much as he was frustrating her right now, she doubted that yelling at him was going to help convince him to confide in her. "Look, we don't have much of a relationship if you can't tell me what's on your mind. And I know it's not solitaire."

"But all I needed was the seven of clubs-"

"Castle."

"Look, I'm fine. Just a bad day. People have bad days. Now, did you come here right from work? You must be hungry. Let's go get something to eat. Remy's sound good?"

But she wasn't going to give in that easily. Not this time. "No, Rick. It's not just today, and you're not fine. This has been going on for almost three weeks now, and it's not getting any better. Don't you think I can tell when something's bothering you? Don't you understand it's driving me crazy that you won't talk to me about it? Something happened while you were in Paris, didn't it? Something you haven't told me. Something big."

He broke eye contact, which she interpreted as a confirmation. But he didn't look away, not completely, and there was pain etched clearly into his face. The lines around his eyes, the way the muscles of his face contorted. Seeing him like this was one of the worst feelings in the world. She missed the little boy trapped in a grown man's body who used to prance around the precinct spinning theories and making all the overworked cops smile. She knew he was still in there somewhere, but he needed to be coaxed out. And she didn't know how to do that if she didn't know what had scared him away.

"Come on," she pleaded. "Talk to me."

"I can't." His voice trembled ever so slightly. "I wish I could, Kate. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"I promised. I can't."

"What did you promise? To who?"

"Whom."

"Castle." It might've been encouraging that he was correcting her grammar, a very Castle-esque thing to do, if she hadn't realized that he was really just trying to avoid the question.

"I can't tell you."

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

"That's okay, I don't need help."

She growled. She was trying to be patient, but he was just so infuriating. Still, when she thought about how many times he might've said the same of her, it calmed her a little. How many times she'd known she was being impossible and was sure that he was going to run away, but then she'd turned around and there he was, waiting patiently for her to get over whatever obstacle she was facing. She'd never had as much respect for him as she did now that it was her turn to wait. And she could see that, in this case, waiting really wasn't the answer. She'd been giving him his space for almost three weeks now, and it hadn't gotten them anywhere. What he needed was a push. But he was being stubborn, and it seemed that she was going to have to push harder than she'd hoped.

"Do you have any idea how one-sided this relationship has been?" she demanded. "Not just since we've been together, but the whole time I've known you. You're always there for me, and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for that, but do you really think it's going to work like that forever? Do you really think that I can just sit here and watch you suffering without even knowing why and be okay with that? Because I can't, Castle. I can't do it. I love you, too."

His face went blank. "You-?"

She realized what she'd said as soon as it had left her mouth, but although she hadn't expected it to happen in quite this way, she found that she didn't want to take it back. So instead, she held onto her frustration and kept pushing. "Of course I do, Rick. What, did you think I didn't?"

"I just… you've never said…"

"And now I have. Anyway, what exactly is the problem? Who do you think I'm gonna tell?"

"It's not that, it's just—"

"What? It's just what?"

He sighed, swallowed, and met her eyes, his own moistening just a little. "I met my dad," he said softly.

She frowned. Whatever she'd been expecting, this wasn't it. "You…?"

He nodded. "Yeah. In Paris."

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. "He wasn't the kidnapper, was he?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "No, he was the one they were after. Alexis was just the bait. Without his help…" He swallowed, and the pitch of his voice changed a bit, "…I'd never have gotten her back."

"But you did," she reminded him.

"Yeah. I did, thank God. But he was a big part of that."

"So… what happened to him?"

"I have no idea. He disappeared. He's a spy, so I guess that's just… what he does. He sent me a book so I'd know that he was okay, but… I don't know if I'll ever see him again."

She was having some difficulty putting the pieces together. "He sent you a book?"

"Yeah. It was kind of a… message thing. It's not important. The important thing is… I met my dad."

She sighed, trying to process this. "Wow."

"I know."

"I… don't know what to say."

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. But you wanted to know what was on my mind, and… that's it."

"Wow," she said again. She realized she was repeating herself, but… it was the only thought in her head that she could make sense of.

"Yeah."

"I wish you would've told me sooner."

"Why?"

"Just… so that I would've known. Maybe I could've helped."

"There isn't anything you or anyone else can do, it's just… the way it is. He's out there somewhere, but who knows if our paths will intersect again?"

"Listen to me for a sec."

He nodded.

"I can't imagine anyone meeting you once and not wanting to see you again. I'm sure, someday, you will."

He sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded. "That's what I'm here for."

He stood up from his desk for the first time since she'd come in, and she did the same, following his lead. "C'mere," he murmured, pulling her into a long hug. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered into her hair.

She nodded, rubbing her hands against his back. "Me too." She waited for him to release and then backed up a bit, meeting his eyes, which were still pained, but surprisingly clear. "As long as I am, what else can I do?"

"Stay for dinner?" he suggested. "We'll get Chinese, and you can fill me in on what I missed at the precinct."

She smiled. "Absolutely. But you need to do me one favor in return."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Next time something's bothering you, talk to me. Don't make it so hard."

He smirked. "I don't know, that was kinda fun. You barging into my study, demanding to know what's wrong and spontaneously declaring your love for me…"

She laughed. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You can't take it back now."

"I'm not trying to."

"Good." He smiled, his expression softening. "I'll try to tell you next time."

"Good." She kissed his lips, just once, softly. "That's all I ask."

A/N: I've randomly had the idea for awhile that Beckett's declaration of love (because we all know it's going to happen eventually...) might happen kind of... accidentally. So that was fun to write. Hopefully it was just as fun to read. :)

Reviews are always nice. :) Happy Castle day!