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What You Wanted

"What may be broken to you is beautiful to me." 4x01 AU: Sometimes you don't have to runaway to find what was meant to be…

Chapter Nine

"Are you sure about this?"

Kate could hear the reluctance in his voice, or maybe it was just the several conversations they'd already had on the subject that gave away his feelings on the matter. She was moving back to her place – alone.

It would be lying to say that he was happy about it.

"I'm sure," she said, reaching back for his hand as he dropped her last bag next to the door, closing it behind him. His chest deflated, his eyes falling to their joined fingers, squeezing.

"You know you can always stay with –"

When the decision to leave the Hamptons was finalized, he had assumed that she was coming back to the city and staying with him at the loft. But that had never been her plan. She needed to stand on her own two feet again, working on healing completely so they could move forward and have a normal relationship.

That night they had their first fight since the day before Roy was killed, before she was –

She shook her head to rid herself of the memory and offered him a soft smile. He huffed, trying to turn away, but she stopped him, reaching up to touch his face. The stretch tugged at her scar, causing her to bite back the uncomfort. Luckily the glide of her hand against the stubble on his jaw distracted him from seeing the flash of pain she was sure she couldn't hide.

But this wasn't about her scars or phantom aches and pains. Right now, she just needed to make him see that this step was a good thing.

"That's not healthy, Castle." She brushed a whisper of a kiss against his lips as her thumb swept along his cheek with a gentle caress, her lips grazing his as she spoke. "That's codependence."

He shook his head, sighing and reaching down to lift the bags he had just discarded onto the ground to bring them into her bedroom. Always the gentleman, but he was also the king of avoidance.

With a sad smile, he turned back for a moment. "I just want you to be safe."

"I know you do, but no one knows who the shooter is. They're not any closer to finding him. I can't stop living my life. I'm not going to let whoever is after me make me live in fear."

Her mind drifted to the night at the restaurant. Esposito's call had interrupted what would've been their first official date and the knowledge that the investigation had stalled had put quite a dampener on things. She had obsessed over the case and speculated over every last detail that he could offer.

The awkward tension that had fallen over the rest of the evening was her fault and that night when she had finally crawled into bed, she had made the decision that if she wanted a life - a real shot with Castle - she couldn't fall back down the rabbit hole.

There was more than her own life at stake this time, because now that they were on the tentative path toward a real relationship, she knew Castle wouldn't let her attempt the investigation alone.

"There will be other nights." Castle's voice snapped her out of her memory; he always knew where her thoughts wandered, though it wasn't like she kept much hidden from him anymore. She focused and realized in her haze they had entered her room, her overnight bags placed neatly on top of her deep purple comforter.

It was his first time in the space and she wished they were at another stage in their relationship where they'd be here together for very different reasons. She felt him walk behind her and wrap his arms around her waist and she sank back against the wall of his body. The tension in her spine eased away as she leaned her head back.

"It's fine," she breathed.

"It's not."

"Well it has to be." She shook her head, a sigh slipping free, turning in his arms to face him. "We're back now – at the precinct next week."

"And that means what, exactly?" he asked, his voice low, uncertain. "You're here and I'm there…"

"We're still us, Castle."

"I just –"

"Still us," she said, her eyes boring into his as her hands framed his face, her thumbs lightly brushing across the shadows tattooed on the delicate skin under his eyes. She could tell he hadn't been sleeping enough, not since she told him her decision to move back to her apartment. He was afraid for her. It was obvious, but he needed to let her stand on her own two feet again.

"Doesn't mean I'm not allowed to worry about you." He offered her a sad smile and she flashed a hopeful one in return before resting her cheek against his shoulder as she laced her arms around him.

Her lips dusted across the soft cotton of his shirt, her voice mumbling, "I'd be offended if you didn't."

He hated it.

The click of the door shutting behind him was deafening in the nearly silent hallway, all his worry and fear emphasizing the usual muted sound. He loved her and she'd almost died - almost died at the hands of someone who was still out there in the city. Worse yet, was the fact that no one knew if the shooter was still looking to finish the job.

She was a sitting duck and he was helpless on the sidelines.

He wouldn't sleep tonight, that much was guaranteed. When they were in the Hamptons at least they had been under the same roof, and he had felt - perhaps a false - sense of security with that. Who was he? He hadn't stopped the sniper the first time and he hadn't had any additional training since that day.

Vivid green.

Bright blue.

Heartbreaking red.

The shades of color were imprinted in his memories and he wished with all of his heart that he could wash it all away. He wanted to clear it from his thoughts, from his mind, but more than that, he wished he could have prevented it all.

His trip home was a daze, each turn practically on autopilot, the cars and crowds in the streets faded into the background. With a sigh, he scrubbed his hands down the tired lines on his face before pushing the base of his palms into his eye sockets, long enough that his vision blurred.

It had been a long day and he couldn't wait for it to be over. All he wanted to do was sink into the leather chair in his office with a tumbler of scotch. Maybe that would relax his mind.

Trudging through the front door of the loft, he was met with a flash of red hair and he was nearly knocked over when she threw her arms around his neck.

"Dad, you're home!"

He painted on his best smile and squeezed her tighter. "I'm home. I missed you. An entire summer is far too long."

It had been a long summer without her, but she was growing up and she had her own plans, which was honestly for the best. She had been out of the crosshairs of whoever was potentially still after Beckett; at least one of the women he loved was safe.

"Well, college starts next year so I'll be away a lot longer, especially if I go to Oxford," she said, looking up at him, her pale blue eyes shining with innocence from beneath her eyelashes. Alexis eased out from his arms, walking toward the kitchen.

Oh, this conversation was not over.

"Oxford?" he squeaked. "What- what's wrong with Princeton or Columbia? Someplace closer, preferably in the same country."

Why did all the women he cared about most want to be far away from him?

"I haven't made any decisions yet, but why should I limit my education based on geographical confines?"

"And leave me alone?" He knew she was growing up and she needed her independence, but he wasn't ready to let her go this soon.

"You won't be alone, Dad. After this summer, sounds like you'll have Detective Beckett, I'm sure." She quirked an eyebrow at him and gave him a knowing smile. "Speaking of, where is she?"

"Her apartment," he mumbled, quickly trying to recover his pout. He wasn't happy about being apart from Beckett, yet his daughter didn't need to be involved with his pity party.

Eventually he'd have to accept Beckett's decision. He had to be happy with whatever part of her life she allowed him to be a part of.

"Maybe it's for the best?" Alexis asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

"Yeah – maybe."

"Doesn't mean she's gone forever. Honestly, I'm surprised she's not already my new 'stepmom' given your track record." She smirked at him, forming air quotes as she spoke.

He narrowed his eyes at the gesture and forced a laugh.

"Very funny," he grumbled, sitting down at the kitchen counter. "If you thought that, you grossly underestimate how stubborn Kate is."

"I was kidding, Dad." She sat down next to him, nudging his ribs with her elbow. "Lighten up. It's really going to be okay."

Castle offered her a smile and planted a kiss on her forehead before sliding off of his seat and sulking back to his office. He wanted that scotch. or maybe he could write to clear his head.

At least he could try to make his characters make sense.

Kate glanced at the door again - deadbolt was still firmly flipped. She knew she'd locked it, but her mind was messing with her, normal creaks and noises were sending chills down her spine.

Damn it, she was losing it.

Smoothing her hands down her thighs, she sighed while her fingers clawed down the fabric of her yoga pants.

"The door's locked," she whispered to herself, a mantra to calm her mind. The serenity was short lived as a loud creak left her scrambling to the floor, whipping her head toward the sound.

Pipes.

Old, rickety pipes.

No one was here. No one knew she was back in the city.

They couldn't find her yet, not now.

Her breath huffed from her lips and her heart hammered against her chest, the thud so hard she swore she could hear the blood racing through her veins. A couple car horns could be heard from street level, causing her to jump, her body on high alert. The city was louder than she remembered, more chaotic, yet she felt claustrophobic.

Was it always this loud?

Yes, of course. It was New York City. The city was alive, always its own character with a million untold stories. That had always been the main thing that drew her to it for so long. The city was rarely quiet.

She shook her head, flattening her palms against the hardwood floor before pushing herself off of the ground. Enough was enough. She needed to get herself together. This was her apartment, she was home – she was safe.

Safe.

You'll never be safe, her subconscious reminded as her body hunched over, hands fisting against her t-shirt. The phantom ache from her scars punctuated her fears.

It was true. They were going to find her, she wasn't safe.

She couldn't do this. Not without him. Clenching her eyes shut, she pulled a long drag of air into her lungs, filling her chest.

She had thought this was what she wanted.

Had told him this was what she needed.

She was wrong.

Kate had teased Castle about being overprotective and told him that he was being dramatic. But she was wrong. It had nothing to do with dramatics. She loved him and he made her feel whole again.

This was so new to her, needing someone, admitting weakness.

When she was little, she had refused to have a nightlight, had refused to be scared of the dark or anything else that would make her seem weak, even at eight years old. And now? She was in her thirties and she couldn't handle a couple hours alone in her own apartment.

The place was clear; she had searched it herself with her pistol in hand, every room covered in light.

It wasn't enough.

It didn't matter.

She needed him.

Missing him wasn't a weakness. Loving him gave her strength.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, desperately needing to hear his voice, but as her fingers hovered over his contact she changed her mind, shoving the cell back into her jeans, reaching for her keys instead.

His voice wasn't enough. She needed him - all of him.

tbc

Thanks for reading everyone! I'm excited to hear from you. Hope you're still with me.

xoxo

Alex, Esther and Jo - honestly you guys are wonderful.