For AlwaysCastle who said ";) I bet they cuddled a lot, and things , after something like that I imagine clinging...touches glances kisses sooooft. And tender!"
I think I lost her to her own imagination at this point, but she said I could play as long as I quoted her, so there you go lovely... *hides*

"No one ever said it was gonna be easy..."

They stay up, even though they're both exhausted because the idea of closing their eyes is just something neither of them want to face.

It's daylight anyway, by the time they give up their vigil on the bridge, no body and his eyes still haunt Kate's as she watches him, but his fingers are tight in her own and she can't leave him alone.

Castle, wearing a hooded expression of pain and confusion, barely acknowledging her when she pulls his hand, drags him back to the waiting car, Ryan's discreet eyes turned from them as they slide into the back seat.

She can't withdraw from his presence, she's missed him these last few, short, agonizing days and her fingers curl through his on the soft leather. His hands are cold but his digits part, separating around hers until their hands are palm to palm and her warmth starts to leech into him.

"Where to?" Ryan asks, his eyes never leaving the road ahead.

Kate looks up, waiting, finding his eyes, dark and still misted over with worry. She squeezes his fingers and he shakes his head to let her know he's heard, that he doesn't want to go home.

"My place." Kate's voice cracks just a little, watching him, he might be free to walk the streets, but in those shadowed, darkened pupils Castle is still locked in a cell and Jerry Tyson is his warden.

She lets out a stuttered breath and drops her head onto Castle's shoulder, catches Ryan's eyes in the mirror, his soft sad smile, and they ride the rest of the way in silence.

She thanks Ryan, her two handed grip on Castle's arm never lessening, and Kate turns them bodily towards her home, her hot shower and hopefully her bed. But first they end up at her counter and within minutes she's pushing a hot mug into his hands.

Coffee, strong and sweet, the familiar aroma lingering between them and she watches him inhale, watches his shoulders relax just a little bit when he leans back against her counter.

He breathes out, his lips parting, but remains quiet, blinking slowly.

"Ok talk." She pleads stepping closer, the length of her body, the whole of her left side pressed into him, she can't stop touching, seeking him out, just checking that he's there.

She presses against him tighter when he sighs over the mug, her fingers curling over his wrist. "Castle you're starting to scare me. I don't think you've ever been silent this long before." She goes for levity...misses the mark by a long shot when he lifts his head slowly and stares at her.

"He's still out there."

"You shot him Castle, just because they didn't find a body doesn't mean..."

"Come on Beckett you're not that naive." He turns to her and smiles sadly, lifting his hand and rubbing at his eyes as if he's trying to remove the tiredness and the pain, the images of Tyson watching them, the knowledge, the death...everything.

It cracks open her heart all over again, rippling through the tender muscle as she's bombarding with images of him in that cell. His eyes wide and innocent, washed through with terror, desolation, and she could do nothing. Trapped on the wrong side of the bars, her heart bursting in her chest and her arms achingly empty.

Kate turns away long enough to set down her mug, takes his and lets it find a home next to her own on the kitchen counter before she turns back to Castle. His heavy fingers are leaving red lines across his face and Kate reaches up, pulling his hand away.

She runs her thumb the length of his scrunched eyebrows, smoothing the furrows of his brow, the lines of his eyes, her fingertips slide through the hair at his temple and his ear fits snuggly in the cradle of her palm.

"If he comes back..." Her fingers slide up his chest to join the others at his jaw, until she's cupping his face with both hands and angling his head down to face her, "When he comes back...we do what we do best." Kate lifts into him, her nose grazing his, cheeks skimming, foreheads brushing, and she rests against him, soothing, calm and gentle. "We go after him with everything we've got."

"And if he gets away again...?"

"Then we do it again and again and again." Her fingers tighten at his face, "We don't give up Castle, we don't give in."

"And if I end up back in jail?"

He must feel her flinch at that because his hands are suddenly wrapping around her waist. "You won't," She whispers harshly into the curve of his neck, her hot breath coming faster against his skin.

"Kate, it could happ..."

"Then I'll get you out, or you'll do whatever you did yesterday and if you have to...you run."

His grip tightens and she looks up, "You run Castle, and I run with you." Her fingers press over his mouth to silence him, "And when we get far enough away," Kate takes a deep breath, "We turn and we fight...together."

His fingers slide through her hair, one hand at her back pulling her harshly into his chest, his lips parting gently, a contradiction to the fierce grip of his hands. It's a soft exploration, mouths opening against each others lips, sharing breath, their first kiss since he was freed.

It's lingering and tender, and when he pulls back, still holding her face, her fingers lift to curl over his wrists, gathering his hands in her own. Kate holds him tight, pulling him after her and with none of his earlier reluctance he follows her into her bedroom.

And so they stay up, neither willing to close their eyes and risk it being a dream, risk finding him still trapped behind bars. They stay up and her hands never leave him, always touching, always seeking and reassuring.

Kate rests her head on his shoulder, touches his chest to feel his heartbeat, his face to feel his gentle smile. Sometimes her lips chase her fingers, sometimes they talk, but mostly they sit in silence, watching the sun set through the window of her bedroom.

And the whole day, she holds his hand.