Happy Castle Finale Monday! It's hard to believe the end of the season is here already but yay for the knowledge that we get more of our beloved story! In honor of the end of season 7, here's a little flashback to the beginning of it.

Thanks to Ally for the beta!

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the characters used in this story.

It Might Have Been

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen,

The saddest are these, 'It might have been'."

-John Greenleaf Whittier

All We Have Left

"On your side of the bed there's a burned out candle flame
A letter I started but I didn't know what to say
No I couldn't write it down, so I'll try to say it now.
Tell me how, how'd you get so far away?
All we have left are the memories of the love we made
Are you sleeping with your own regret?
On your side of the bed."

-Little Big Town

An insert for the beginning of season 7 because this song has been screaming inspiration at me and I would have loved to see a conversation like this.

Sixty days without him and Kate thought the moment she had him home, they'd be insatiable. She'd give almost anything for that to be the case, but with each hour that passes with him home by her side, they seem to drift further apart.

The first night was tense; the lingering thoughts of all evidence that had stacked up against him resulted in her being even more cautious than she was before they got together. She told him about guarding his chair at the precinct, and all about the little, brief moments when she lost hope but then somehow found it again. Then she broke down in his arms. She thought being wrapped against the wall of his chest would feel like home again, yet it only felt foreign and forced.

She wakes up the second day feeling awkward and tense, glancing over at where Castle's stiffly curled with his back to her on his side of the bed. She can't even remember the last time they slept on their prospective sides, and her heart breaks a little more. She fell asleep before he ever came to bed last night. She's never been a praying woman, but the last few months and their current situation had her saying a prayer for both of them before she closed her eyes and let sleep take her under.

It's only when she rolls her body over and swings her feet to the floor that she notices a letter on her nightstand that she knows wasn't there when she went to bed last night; she recognizes the handwriting instantly and can't help but wonder if that's what he was doing while he was shut away in his office last night.

She reaches for the small piece of paper, noticing the way that her name looks so carefully written in comparison to the rapidly scrawled words beneath it. It's almost as if her name was a hesitation, an unsure thought before the words began to pour out of him. Though it seems he thought better of the words after he started writing them because about half way down the page they stop mid-sentence and the things he was trying to say fade away.

She takes a deep breath before beginning to read the letter over again, more carefully this time.

Kate,

I don't even know what to say anymore to make this all better. Truthfully, I don't think there are enough words or actions to make it better. I was taken from you on our wedding day and there will never be a way to make that up to you. I know the only thing remotely close to making things better would be an explanation for why I was taken and where I was. I can't offer you that and it's tearing me apart inside. I wish more than anything that I could remember, I wish…

And that's it, no more words.

She folds the paper in half, cradles it to her chest as if it's the most precious thing she's ever held in her hand and, in a way, it is. It's the closest to him she's been since before he was taken, the most she's heard him say since she laid eyes on him in that hospital bed.

She wishes he could have finished his thoughts but the realization that he's trying, that he wants to find a way to make things better for her, makes it obvious that he's still fighting for them, that for him, nothing has changed.

It makes her nauseous, all of the ways she's shut herself off to him, because she's afraid that they can never get back to where they were. She wants him back, she wants them back. She'll fight with him for all they have left.

She places the letter carefully back in its place on her side of the bed and then she's twisting her body around, easing her way back into the bed and close enough to him to brush a tentative hand over his shoulder.

"Castle," she whispers, his name cautious in her mouth and she hates the way it sounds, she doesn't want to be cautious anymore.

She waits for his eyes to flutter open, watches as he slips from dream world into the sharp reality that he's been living with for the past two days.

He tenses when he sees her so close, blinking his eyes as if she's a figment of his imagination. But she doesn't pull away, doesn't show any signs of the insecurity she's been feeling as he uncurls his body and rolls onto his back, his eyes searching her.

"Kate," he rasps, his voice still scratchy from the amount of time he didn't use it and the lingering traces of sleep. "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes cloud, her heart threatening to shred as if it's even possible for it to break any more than it already has. She hates that he thinks she's only coming to him because something is wrong, hates the wedge that has been driven between them.

He's the only man she's ever trusted completely with her heart, their love the only safe place she's known since her mother passed away. He's never given her a reason to doubt his commitment to her, she owes him more than she's giving him.

But the question he's asking isn't entirely off the mark, something is wrong. Them.

"I read your letter," she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she looks into his weary eyes.

"Oh," he says, shaking his head as he pushes up onto his elbows. "It wasn't finished. I shouldn't even have left it there, but I just didn't know what else to say to fix us."

She wants to fall into his arms, to tell him that there's nothing to fix, but she can't do that, not yet anyway.

"Rick, I owe you an apology," she states, shaking her head when he tries to protest.

"You have never given me a reason to doubt your love and commitment to me. I never should have let that evidence cloud my judgement. You are the only man besides my dad that I've ever completely trusted and I do….I do still trust you."

"Kate…" he tries, pushing himself completely up off the mattress, his body brushing against hers for the first time since he let her cry against him and yet it's completely different.

Kate shakes her head, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall down her cheeks and lets her head fall against his shoulder, her ragged intake of breath the only sound in the room.

His hand presses softly against the base of her skull, a cautious caress that finally breaks the dam she's been holding inside her. She lifts her hand to his shirt, clutches the material tightly in her fingers as ugly sobs wreak havoc over her entire frame. And finally, finally, his fingers tangle in the shorter strands of her hair just as he brings his other hand around her shoulders, holding her to him.

"I hate that we've drifted apart. I hate that you had to write me a letter because you didn't know what to say to me. I hate that we've been sleeping miles apart on our own sides of the bed because neither of us knew how to fix what was broken. I was lonely for two months, Castle. You're right here, you're home, and I don't want to be lonely anymore." Her words are choked and broken and he has to really listen to understand all of them, but he hears just as much as he feels everything that she's saying.

He guides her into his lap, presses her closer when she finally settles over his hips and the feel of her even though he doesn't remember missing her for two months is like finally coming home.

"I still don't have any answers for you, Kate. I wish that things were different but…"

"Shh," she says, lifting her head and pressing her finger against his still pursed lips. "You're enough. Having you back home, safe, it's enough."

"I would never walk away from you willingly, Kate. Never."

It's a promise that he's already made to her without words. She knows he means them.

"I know," she chokes out, her hands lifting to his cheeks, her thumbs stroking the still purple bruises that are present under his eyes.

"I know," she repeats, finally pressing her lips against his for the first time.

His lips are chapped, still a little raw from the hours that he floated unconscious in the direct sunlight, but they feel like heaven against hers. He tastes like home and healing and something completely different from anything she's ever felt before.

She doesn't protest when he rolls her over, his large frame pressing her delicate body into the mattress, eliminating all space between them. It's no secret that she lost weight while he was missing, her need to find him always outweighing her desire to take care of herself. She knows he feels the way her bones are more prominent, knows he's silently berating himself once again for leaving her.

Castle's lips leave hers briefly to trail down her jaw, her neck, pausing just above the scar that he's paid special attention to ever since she came to his door that stormy night.

"I love you," he murmurs against her skin, and memories flare in her mind of the first time he ever told her those words. He meant them then and there's no doubt of how much he means them now.

Her fingers card through his hair, her short nails scraping gently against his scalp and she draws him back to her lips, the distance between them permanently dissipating.

"I love you, too. We're going to be okay," she promises, pulling him closer, melting into the warmth of the man she's going to call her husband.

There's no distance between them that night, no prospective sides to sleep on as they both meet in the middle, their souls merging together once more. And all they have left becomes all that they are, all that they will be.

Would love to hear your thoughts! xo