A/N: Sending my warmest thoughts to those who endured the actual bomb cyclone and its after effects across the east coast of the United States and to anyone enduring a rough winter in general.

Set anytime after 8x02, 'XX'. Only in this version of events, Castle and Beckett don't continue seeing each other after she leaves.

'You traced your hands
Across my back
You whispered
"If time could only take us back
Would you take me back?"'

-Cologne, Haux

She's going to freeze to death.

Kate curls in on herself in the slim bed, pulling the plain white sheet to her chin and trying to think of anything but the chill creeping in beneath the covers, threading through her clothes to spread ice along her skin. But it's hard enough for her to get any sleep on a good night, let alone on the coldest of the year with temperatures only continuing to drop. Power was reported to be out city-wide due to the ominous 'bomb cyclone' that's overtaken the east side of the country and the studio apartment she's been renting these last few weeks is hardly made to withstand such conditions. The heating rarely works to begin with, she could never stay warm even before the frigid weather hit.

Castle would probably be thrilled for the opportunity for them to be stuck inside on a snow day. He would set up candles everywhere, build a blanket fort, make it fun while finding a way to keep her warm the entire time.

Instead, she's alone, shivering beneath two barriers of blankets and at least three layers of clothing.

She squeezes her eyes shut, but all she can see in her mind is his face. The way his features fell during that last conversation.

I love you so much.

What are you doing?

I have to go.

For the sake of a happily ever after she's single-handedly destroying. Kate sighs and peels her eyes open, stares through the slits in the blinds of the bedroom window, watching the sweep of snow through the sky. So devastating and beautiful. Killing her with its chill.

Why are you giving up on our marriage?

I'm trying to save it.

By leaving me?

She sits up, dragging the comforter even tighter around her shoulders and pulling her knees to her chest, scooting back against the headboard. She's cold and exhausted, concerned about him even though he's probably fine. He has Alexis, his mother, and severe weather or not, he's safe as long as she's not there.

Doesn't stop her from worrying about him. With the power lines down, cell service is scarce, her phone hardly able to attain a signal, and to feel so cut off from him has her stomach twisting in unbearable knots. It's bad enough staying away from him every day, but during a damn near natural disaster like this?

She should be with her husband.

Kate bites her lip, battling with the idea, but her mind already knows its going to lose.

The brutal beating of ice and snow, the paralyzing chill of the single digit temperatures, should keep their enemies away, right? LokSat wouldn't come for them in a blizzard. No matter how powerful, the person behind the conspiracy can't withstand a snowstorm, even to kill Kate Beckett. They aren't superhuman.

Neither is she. But it doesn't stop her from casting her gaze to her coat at the foot of the bed. The place she's renting isn't that far of a walk from the loft and the snow blowing past her window isn't that strong right now. A brief lull in the storm's intensity, perfect timing. It isn't smart, isn't safe, but she can barely feel her fingers, her toes, as it is, and her mind is numb with him.

It's worth a walk in the cold.

Kate drags the blankets with her to the edge of the bed as snags her snow boots from the floor, slips on an extra pair of socks.

I hope that you'll have room in your heart to take me back, she told him.

She hopes he'll have room now.

Kate underestimates the winter storm and overestimates herself. She isn't ready for the bite of the windchill, fails to anticipate the tiny knives of sleet that soar through the air to slice at her cheeks or the howling wind that throws snow in her eyes. She doesn't think about how fighting through the elements will cause a five minute walk to take fifteen. Or how by the time she's finally stumbling through the lobby doors, she won't be able to feel anything.

She's dressed in as many layers as she could, but it hardly makes a difference. The burning chill started in her toes, her fingertips, and simply spread from there, turning her blood to ice that weighed heavy, slowed her down. She almost forgets that there won't be any warmth to greet her once she enters the lobby to his building, dark and as cold as the outside. She forgets that there's no working elevator either.

Castle has always lived on the top floor. It's going to be a long climb.

Kate swallows hard and adjusts the scarf at her chin, tucking her face into the soft fabric that's become dusted in snow.

But at least inside their building, there's no ice raining down on her, no ferocious flurries to tangle and melt in her hair, no wind to make her eyes water and sting.

The five story climb does her some good, cracks her frigid joints and stirs heat through the frozen lake of her bloodstream, but by the time she's finally on his floor, shuffling down the hall to his door, she's out of breath and sound mind. She knocks without even sparing a moment to think of what to say.

But she can't be bothered to care. She walked through a blizzard to get here and she'll gladly take whatever consequence that carries, it can't be any worse.

She's an idiot and she can't stop shivering. Her lips are chapped and her teeth keep chattering, catching on the broken flesh of her mouth and drawing blood. She wouldn't blame him if he answered the door and turned her away without a second thought. Why would he want a woman who not only breaks his heart, but is also crazy enough to go out in weather conditions categorized as a 'bomb cyclone'?

Kate leans her head against the doorframe.

Castle deserves better. He deserves-

"Kate?"

Her eyes flutter open, she didn't realize they were closed, and she lifts her head from the door. He's standing in the entryway in his full winter gear - thick coat, gloves, scarf, a cute little beanie tugged down on his head. But somehow, despite the chill the entire city is fighting, he still looks warm, inviting, a radiator of heat.

"Cas-" Her teeth clash over his name, slice it in half with their chattering, and his eyes widen.

"Were you outside in this?" He automatically tears one of the gloves from his hands and presses the back of his hand to her cheek like he's attempting to gauge her temperature. She can barely feel it. "Of course you were. Kate, you're freezing," he growls, flipping his hand to cup his palm to her cheek. "How did you get here?"

"W-walked," she admits, can't manage to explain past that. It's all a blur at this point anyway. All she remembers is a whirlwind of white around her, trying to push her back but failing to stall her determination to just keep walking. She wasn't the only one out on the streets, but she was probably the only one stupid enough to trudge across downtown to go back to where she should have been all along.

"Jesus, are you insane?" he breathes, jerking her inside. She isn't sure when he grabbed her by the arm, but she doesn't object to the sway of her body towards him. "Are you actually insane?"

Kate sighs, lets herself be herded inside. She doesn't really have a choice, can't exactly feel her legs, but she does snag the lapel of Rick's coat with one of her trembling sets of fingers. He covers them without question, draws them to his lips, and stains heated breath to her knuckles.

"Why are you even here?" he demands, but his voice is soft, scared. Worried about her. "You tell me you need time, then you trek across the city in the worst possible weather for no valid reason? I don't understand-"

"Place I'm renting is only a few minutes from here," she mumbles, watching her knuckles slip to his chin. "I just wanted to come home."

His eyes flicker, a vibrant ripple of blue, and - oh, Castle, no. But - she doesn't have the heart to tell him that she doesn't mean for good. Not yet.

"Home to me?" he murmurs, trailing his hand down her side to touch her waist. Somehow, she manages to feel the press of his palm beneath the thick layering of her clothes. "Or were you just in need of a body with a bed to keep you warm?"

She startles back at that, the venom in his words snapping her out of the cold induced lull. But Castle's grip tightens at her hip before she can move away, stilling her even as she purses her lips, looks away.

"You know that's bullshit," she mutters, tugging her hand from his grasp at his chin. "Wouldn't just use you like that."

He sighs. "I know."

Castle lets go of her hip to catch her hand between both of his, rubbing his palms back and forth across her skin like he's trying to start a fire with the smooth friction.

"You make me mean, bitter," he grumbles, leaning in to skim his lips along the edge of an eyebrow while he sparks the painful return of warmth through her flesh. Her lashes flutter at the touch. "I'm usually better at keeping it to myself. But it's cold and I'm tired and you're here."

"Want me to go?" she asks, watching his lips purse into a frustrated line.

"Even if I did, I'd never send you out in this weather," he scoffs, leaning past her to shut the door. "Although, it obviously wouldn't make a difference if you had your mind set on it."

"Goal orientated person, Castle," she murmurs finally tearing her eyes from his face to examine the loft around them. Candles flickers on every other flat surface, casting enough light to almost give the illusion of restored power. He has the stove on, blue flames alight in the kitchen, and not exactly a blanket fort in the living room, but a... is that a tent? "Why do you have a tent?"

His laugh is weak, but the hint of amusement has the best kind of warmth generating inside of her.

"I read somewhere online before we lost power that a good tent can provide decent insolation. I also found these little battery powered heaters. They're really small, but if you turn them all on, it can get really warm in there, especially when I huddle in my sleeping bag," he explains, looking rather proud of himself. It has her yearning to kiss the upturned corner of his mouth in reward.

"You're so smart," she murmurs, watching his gaze flash back to her. He's expecting a quip, a sardonic smile - the genuine compliment has him frowning at her.

"Do you think you have hypothermia?" he whispers, looking genuinely concerned now, lifting both hands to her face.

She huffs. "No. Well, not in my brain. Maybe my toes. Can't really feel those."

"Shit, Kate," he groans, all of the amusement slipping away, succumbing to the fear driven anger again. "Why couldn't you just come back before? Why did you leave in the first place?" He lets go of her face. "Why did you have to do this?"

"Castle-" But he's already taking a step back from her, rubbing a hand over his jaw, suddenly looking every year older than her and she hates it, hates when she does that to him.

"You were happy with me," he murmurs, casting his gaze to the tent over his shoulder with another sigh. "I thought you were happy."

"I was, I - you never stopped making me happy," she argues, but he won't turn his attention back to her. She knows she hurt him, but it aches worse than the cold to see just how much. "Rick, it isn't anything you did-"

He scoffs, the bitterness back and sharp. "Spare me the 'it's not you, it's me' line, Beckett. Just get in the tent and warm up before you have to lose a finger or something."

"It's a New York snowstorm, not you and me trapped on a mountain," she mutters, rolling her eyes at his dramatics, but he curls his fingers at the collar of her coat.

"You went out in dangerously cold weather and walked from... from wherever the hell your new home is to get here, spending who knows how long out there-"

"It's not my new home," she hisses, shoving on his chest, but he doesn't let go of her. "It's a crappy little apartment that's cheap and temporary. And I walked through the snow to be here with you, you idiot. Because all I was doing was worrying about you while I was freezing my ass off. That's all I ever do now is worry about you, if you're in danger, if you're safe enough, if I'm doing the right thing-"

"You're not," he growls, dropping his hand from her coat. "In what way, for what purpose, is leaving me ever the right thing?"

She pins her bottom lip between her teeth, ignoring the sting of torn flesh, but the pain in her lip distracts her from the ever widening fault line through her chest, the cracks in her heart.

"I don't think it was anymore," she confesses on an exhale. Castle's brow furrows, scrutinizing her. He's going to figure it out all on his own, theorizing aloud like this, and she needs to stop him before-

"What are you doing?" The same words he said to her the night she left, his eyes hard and assessing her with the same confusion, with anger and fear and everything in between while she broke his heart. "Kate. What did you do?"

She's trembling again, but it's not from the cold. Rick must think it is, though, and moves into action.

"Okay, okay, let's just - you need to warm up," he states, hooking his fingers in the crook of her elbow and drawing her after him towards the tent he has set up in the middle of the living room. He unzips the main panel, revealing a cove lit softly by the glow of a lantern and the tiny power indicators of at least three heaters inside. The giant sleeping bag he brought to her dad's cabin, last summer when she convinced him to go camping with her in the woods, splayed out in the middle. The sheets and comforter from their bedding is laid out inside too, their pillows strewn all around. A nest of comfort, warmth that calls to her immediately, but she hesitates when he nudges her forward. "Take off a couple of layers and then-"

"Crawl in with me."

She looks back at him, not trying to hide the spill of pleading through her gaze. They have to talk, she knows he'll poke and prod at her until she cracks, until she ends up confessing every secret, the real reason she stayed away, but for now, this is what she trekked through ten inches of snow and freezing winds for.

She just wants to crawl into a warm bed (or sleeping bag) with her husband.

"For body heat?" he asks, arching his brow.

Kate rolls her eyes and turns her back to the open slit of the tent, feeling the precious warmth leaking into the cold air of the apartment, but takes her time in sealing her palm to his cheek. He doesn't object to the curl of her fingers, his eyes falling shut at the touch. His skin is soft under her fingertips, warm and peppered with stubble as she caresses his jaw.

"No." She slides her hand down to the vulnerable skin just below his jaw, along his pulse, where his skin is hot and thriving. "Because I miss you."

Rick opens his eyes, so dull and grey, but with a hint of that bright blue she's missed peeking through.

She brushes her thumb to the delicate skin beneath his eye, stained purple from sleepless nights. "And I'm sorry."

The trickle of blue spreads, cascading with the fall of his gaze to her lips, the sway of his body into hers.

"It's not enough."

"I know," she murmurs, stroking her fingertips to the corner of his mouth, over the frown lines there, before lowering her hand to the zipper of her coat. It's puffy, long and thick and worth the money she spent on it years ago, it conceals the pea coat underneath, the hoodie hiding beneath that. "Can it be a start?"

She drops the two coats to the floor beside the tent, watches Castle shrug out of his before he bumps her with his hip, nodding.

"Maybe. Come on, Beckett, I want to get back in my tent. You're letting all the warmth out," he prompts, smirking as she huffs.

But she ducks her head and descends to her knees to crawl inside the tent, checking over her shoulder to ensure he's following.

He is.