Castle had changed out of the zombie costume by the time Martha got back home. She found him in his office, wearing his pajamas and enjoying a glass of good wine while proof reading a chapter of his latest Nikki Heat novel. He looked up and smiled.

"Mother, you are home."

"Well, I had a great time. What about you, how was your last case at the 12th?" She deliberately did not mention Beckett by name.

"It was fascinating. Our 'zombie killer' was just a pawn. Someone drugged him and had him commit the murder."

"Oh, that's terrible."

"Yes. Yes it is. By the way, this is not going to be my last case with Kate and the guys. I'll be back to working with them all."

"Richard, what happened?" She took a good look at her son. "Looks like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders."

He sighed and smiled. "As much as it pains me to admit it, I was wrong. I was so wrong about her, Mother." He shook his head. "How could I have been so blind? I missed all the signs."

"You were wrong about Beckett. How?" Martha asked.

"I came up with all sorts of explanations as to why she told me that she didn't remember… none of them good. And I totally overlooked how much closer we've recently been to each other."

"Go on," she encouraged.

"We talked. Initially, it was about the original suspect, but I came to a realization: it all applied to her, too. She suffered through a traumatic experience. To use her words, at first she wasn't able to deal with it. It took everything she had just to put one foot in front of the other and get through the day. She was referring to Kyle Jennings, of course, but I could see she was speaking from personal experience. We got to talk about her specifically and she admitted that she's still seeing her therapist, but she's made good progress. She'll soon be able to accept everything that happened the day she was shot. Everything." He put special emphasis on the last word.

"She made you hopeful again," Martha said guardedly. She didn't want her son to get his hopes up only to have to face another disappointment.

"Yes. Her wall, the one she's built around her heart is about to come down and she wants me there when it does. She said that in so many words. Mother, I misjudged her. I should have been supporting her all the time, not acting like my old jackass self after finding out that she lied. She lied not only to protect herself, but to protect me as well. I could see it in her eyes."

"Then you better find a good way to apologize to her about the stewardess – Jacinda, right? – the other detective you followed for one case and everything in between."

"I will. I'll show her that I still love her. You were right. Love is not a switch I can turn on and off. When she finally feels safe, I'll be there."

"You still feel guilty for thinking all those things about her," Martha deadpanned. She had noticed the guilt in his voice.

"How can I not? Like I said, I reviewed the evidence superficially. I didn't stop to ponder what good reasons she might have had for…"

"Save it, kiddo. You'll tell her when the time comes. As for me, I'm off to bed."

"Goodnight Mother."

"Goodnight Richard. Be sure to get a good night's sleep. You'll need it if a body drops tomorrow."

"Duly noted, Mother," he replied. After she went upstairs, he drained the rest of his wine, saved his work, powered down the laptop, yawned and stretched. Tomorrow he would be with Kate again. It was enough… for now.