Disclaimer: I don't have any rights to "Castle".

He woke when he felt her tense beside him.

"Kate," he called softly, pulling her closer. He squeezed her waist and said again, "Kate."

She startled awake and sat up, shoving him away. In the moonlight, he saw the terror on her face.

"Kate, it's me. It's Castle." He slowly rose to sit next to her.

Recognition crossed her features and she leaned into him as he reached out and pulled her against his side. "God, Castle. I'm so glad it's you." She tried to erase the image of Jerry Tyson grinning devilishly next to her in Castle's bed. She pressed a hand to her ribs, where the cold metal of Tyson's gun had dug into her skin just over a day before.

Castle ran his palm over her back. "Thinking of last night, on the bridge?"

She took a deep breath and swallowed. "Yeah." Her hand fisted against his side. "I can't stop feeling—" She paused, hoping for the panic to subside. "He could've shot you—he could've taken everything. And your family? We almost lost you, Castle, and I keep thinking about how close his gun was, how I could've been shot."

"Again."

When she didn't answer, Castle pulled her into his lap, settling her between his legs. He held her against his chest.

"It's selfish, right?" she said.

He weaved his fingers through her hair and gently massaged her scalp. "Kate, it's okay to feel whatever you need to feel. So much happened that day. As long you're not feeling relief or glee when you think of that gun pointed at me" —that got a small smile from her—"I think we can work through this. Together." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

She nodded. "I'm okay, Castle. It helps that I almost never wake up alone anymore." She sat up for a tender kiss.

"Glad I can be of service."

They shared a smile before she settled against him again. They sat quietly. He rubbed her back while she slowly ran her hand over his chest. After a few minutes, he asked hesitantly, "Kate, what do I need to know, about—about everything that happened after your shooting?"

"You mean the PTSD?"

"Yeah. What should I know?"

She straightened and looked up at him. "Why? You afraid I'm gonna go crazy on you?" Her tone was light, but he sensed her uncertainty.

He shook his head. "No, Kate, I want to know how I can help. What should I watch for? What do you need me to do in case…in case something comes up?" He pushed her hair away from her face, stroking his fingers over her cheek. "Kate, I don't know if I can watch you go through it alone a second time, but if you need space, I'll give you space. I just want to make sure I do the right thing for you."

He studied her face for a moment, watching her chew her lip as she contemplated. Finally, she said, "I don't know, Castle. I haven't thought about it much these last few weeks, and I don't know how to go through it with someone else, either. I'm not shutting you out, I promise." Castle nodded his understanding. "I just—I might be too tired and too wound to think about it objectively right now."

He nodded again. "We don't have to talk about it now. I just—I've been meaning to ask, so I can be here for you when you need me." He paused. "I might be over-stepping here, but if it's okay, I'd like to go see Dr. Burke with you sometime." She looked surprised, and he quickly backtracked. "Or talk to him. I don't—I don't know how it works."

Beckett smiled softly and ran a hand across his shoulder. "I don't know, either. I'll ask him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know it's not going to be easy, for either of us, but I want to let you in." Her hand slid down to rest over his heart. "I want to do this right."

She looked up to find him grinning at her. He leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her. "Me, too." He pulled her back into a hug.

After a few minutes, he felt her pulse quicken under his fingertips. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she whispered, "Castle?"

"Yeah, Kate?" he replied softly.

"I love you."

She pulled back to look at him again. His expression quickly changed from surprise to unabashed joy. "Yeah?" His cupped her cheeks, lacing his fingers through her hair.

Beckett reached up and touched his hand. Returning his smile, she nodded. "Yeah." She squeezed his fingers. "Come on, you knew that."

He kissed her delightedly, almost sloppy in his happiness. "It means a lot to hear you say it." He kissed her again, taking his time before murmuring to her, "I love you, too, Kate. So much."

"I know, Castle." She pressed a palm to his cheek. "I get it now, why you didn't tell me about the files." She saw the guilt in his eyes and shook her head. "When I knew your life was at stake, I would've done almost anything to save you, Castle. I think I understand what you did, what you felt." She pressed her forehead to his and whispered, "You're always there for me. Even when I've pushed you away, you've stuck by me. I'm so sorry, Castle. I'm sorry for not doing this sooner—"

"Kate, it's okay—"

"No, Castle, it's not." She leaned back, not meeting his eyes. "We could've had so much more time. You were always there, and I kept taking you for granted." She met his gaze. "You've always been there."

It was his turn to look away. He swallowed. "Not always." His brow furrowed in regret as he said, "I left you that summer, when I went to the Hamptons. I was trying to protect myself, and I ended up hurting you. Even when I thought you were…I could've at least called. It's no wonder all of you were so angry with me. When I think of what you tried to tell me, and I just walked away—I didn't know, Kate. I'm sorry, too."

She sighed, turning her head to kiss his wrist before saying, "Castle, I had plenty of chances before you left. It was pretty obvious that you were interested." He didn't return her smile, so she continued gently, "And I knew you cared about me. You saw what we could be together, and I kept ignoring it. You put up with more than most men would have." He opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted, "That one's not on you, Castle."

"It's not on you, either."

"Okay, maybe it's on both of us. We both messed up—a lot. But we're here now. We're okay. I think we're more than okay." She watched him, hoping for a smile.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, remorse still etched in his features. After a moment, she shifted, nudging his knees together so she could straddle him. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly.

He paused, his hands coming to rest at her sides. "I just don't want to hurt you again."

"Castle." She waited until he met her gaze. "I don't want to hurt you again, either. Ever. But we're going to make mistakes sometimes. It doesn't matter how hard we try to do this right. We're only human."

Castle tugged her closer. "But we'll talk about things? If something isn't right, you'll tell me?"

She smiled reassuringly. "I will. You, too. Tell me when something's wrong." She paused to lean in and breathed in his ear, "But I'm sure there are some…aspects that you won't have any complaints about."

That drew a smile from him. She kissed his jaw and trailed slowly across his cheek to his lips. Suddenly she pulled back. "Who told you?"

Castle cocked his head, smiling slyly. "I protect my sources, Beckett."

"Ryan."

"I'm not telling."

"I'm not asking." She pushed him back against the headboard. "Unless you'd like a formal interrogation."

"I'd prefer informal, Detective." As Beckett bent closer, he said, "I'm not sure I want to be cuffed again so soon."

"We'll save those for later," she mumbled around his lips.

He pulled her against him. "Good plan."