Spoilers: Some for the Limey, but doesn't directly apply.

Disclaimer: Don't own Castle, and honestly, I'm glad I don't! I'd just mess it up, I'm no good at this writing thing.

Rain patters softly against the window of Kate's apartment. It's one of her favorite sounds. Just a gentle rain.

She sits on the edge of her bed, staring intently at the home-made murder board for The Case.

The Case that grabs her, pulls her in, and refuses to let go. The Case that orients her life, her behavior, and the way she sees the world. The Case that has cost her so much. Her mother, her Captain, the man she loves. Her life. She's here, breathing, heart beating, but she has never experienced . She has lived life to survive, not to enjoy.

Burke had been trying to convince her to take down her Murder Board for months now. But she'd always refused, unable to believe that it would help. But now, she has lost it all, and she's desperate.

She never would have thought it would be the end of them. But she should have known that there's only so much a person can take. And she asked too much of him.

It's not his fault, not at all. She knows why he left, why he had to end it. She would have, if she was him. Why spend so much time with a ghost? With a shell of a person that could never truly be happy; a person who could never really love him back? He deserves so much better, so when he walked away, she had to let him, because he needed her permission. Her permission to leave, to never speak again. And she loves him as much as her broken self could, so she lets it happen. She hadn't cried, it was just the gentle rain running down her face.

But now, alone in her room, all she can think of is how much she misses him, how much she wants him back. But The Case is staring her in the face, luring her in with its dark, painful whispers. She feels her head pounding and her palms sweating. She can't do this. She wants him back, but this case is the only way she knows. She can't let go.

Her weakness disgusts her. And so, to prove she can, she steps forward, plucks a sticky note off the board, and tears it in half once, twice, three, four, five times. Golden pieces of paper flutter to the ground. They're almost beautiful.

It feels good?

Tentatively, she takes another sticky note and rips it into confetti. She watches in awe as it floats to the ground. She can breath, really expand her chest and draw air into her lungs. She stands straighter, her shoulders square. She can feel her heart, which has remained dormant for so long, warm in her chest.

It does feel good.

She goes into a mad frenzy, snatching paper from the board and tearing it to pieces. She grasps paper in her hands, pulling it apart with more force than necessary. Words that have bound her for years are ripped apart in her hands, disappearing. Facts, dates, notes, speculations. All of it fluttering down to the ground in a gracefully pitiful manner. Like autumn leaves, dancing in all directions before settling with a gentle crackle on the wood floor of her apartment. Soon, the board is empty, and nothing remains. She faces a new page, a clean slate. A chance at a new life.

She wants to tell him, to run to him like a child and proudly showing off what she has done, but she has promised never to speak to him again. She has broken his heart, and she does not deserve a second chance. And she will not ask for another one.

But she will always love him.

Always.