Shadow and Light

AN: Episode follow-up to 5x13, 'Recoil.'

"I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it." – Maya Angelou

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Her eyes linger on him for a moment; his eyelids pinched closed in sleep, the flop of his hair over his forehead, the shadows cast across his face by the dim lamp on her nightstand.

He left the light on for her.

Sprawled out in her bed, chest naked and arms flung wide, as if he's waiting for her to slide in, even fast asleep. He probably is.

She smiles for a moment, the low curl of warmth sliding through her veins at the sight before the slew of thoughts drains it off her face. She remembers the moment when she stood like this once before, committing him to memory before she faced the sum-total of her demons, embodied by one Senator Bracken. Before she made her stand, fought for her mother, for herself, for this life she was yearning to have with Castle. Fully aware that it could also end it. End her. Them.

It's different now and she still doesn't know how to feel about it. She did her job. Saved his life.

Saved the life of a man who didn't think her mother worthy of the same.

Her stomach churns but she consciously pushes it all away, tiptoeing further into her bedroom instead. She's spent enough of her evening thinking, contemplating, losing herself to the burn of thoughts brought forth by the clash of her ideals with the raging need for revenge, the damaging collision of dark and light; her head tilted back against her couch, her legs stretched out to his lap while Castle kneaded her feet and the quiet of her living room almost pulsating around them.

Knowing she did the right thing doesn't stop the turmoil, doesn't make it hurt any less.

She lifts the corner of the comforter and slides underneath, curls up against his side in the space that's hers, resting her head on his chest. Like warm, calming waves, his body heat laps over her skin and he rouses, folds his arms closed around her back, his lips skating across the top of her head.

"You okay?" He murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Yeah." She soothingly strums her fingertips along the side of his ribcage. "Go back to sleep."

Yet he blinks, drifting further into awareness. His palm slides up her spine, curves around to cradle her cheek as he tilts her face toward his. She rests her chin on his sternum, her eyes finding his, holding in suspended stillness. Her heart leaps at the penetrating blue of his eyes, the shimmer of thoughts and worries, of all the things he doesn't say.

"You won't lose me to this, Castle." She trails her fingertips over the planes of his face, caresses the worried lines that fracture the corners of his eyes. "Not anymore."

His thumb glances across her bottom lip, a caress so tender she wants to weep with it. "I know."

"Are you sure?"

His eyebrows knit and he pulls back to regard her closely. "Why the doubt, Kate?"

"It's not doubt, it's just…" She anchors herself to him, her hand cradled around his neck, the other resting on his chest, above his heart where it beats against her palm, strong and steady. "I noticed how I had to convince you that there was more to the story, this time. Usually it's you delving deeper when a solution seems too easy, coming up with the more far-fetched, twisted theories. I don't know, it just felt like you were reining me in?"

"Kate…" He trails off for a moment, his eyes roaming her face. "I was worried about you."

"I know…"

"It wasn't easy, you know, following your lead on this, giving you the space you seemed to need, when all I wanted was to wrap my arms around you and hold you tight, keep you somewhere safe. When I couldn't reach you in the morning, when I didn't even know where you were, I was so afraid you'd fallen down that rabbit hole again."

"Castle…" She sighs, quiet tears rimming her eyes at the muted desolation of his words. She wishes she were easier to be with, sometimes, but the truth is, when her thoughts started racing, her mind and her heart struggling with what was right and the cloying lure of revenge, she couldn't handle letting him see her fall. 'Remarkable,' he had called her, his smile and his eyes telling the story of how much he believed it, believed in her when at that very moment, she felt anything but.

"This was hurting you; I could see it and I just wanted it to be over, for you, for us. I didn't want to keep you going, push you further in with my foolish, rampant story brain. I've done it before but not anymore, not when you fought so hard to move forward, fought for us. I can't…"

She kisses him then, lingers on his lips for a long moment, caresses his mouth slowly, meticulously. Claiming his love, his fears, and this extraordinary, unerring belief he has in her before she pulls away. She lets her thumb skim along his cheekbone and the late-night stubble of his jaw, painting her promises onto his skin.

"Partners, remember? No matter what happens, we're in this together. Even if I need space sometimes - to work through some things in my head, I will always find my way back to you."

He smiles, his eyes warm, shimmering with more relief than she realized he needed, they both needed. "You are so extraordinary, Kate."

She lowers her eyes, her index finger drawing doodles over his chest. "I'm fallible just like everybody else."

He cradles her chin with his fingertips, makes her look up at him once more. "It's okay to be human sometimes, Kate. It doesn't make you any less incredible. Your heart, your sense of honor and truth, the way you think astound me and I will never not be amazed by you."

Her heart flutters in her chest, a wordless thank you drawn into the curve of her smile. Nobody has ever loved her with such reverence and sometimes she wonders what she's done right to deserve him. She curls into him, her forehead nudged against his neck, breaths in his soothing, oh so familiar scent, while her eyelids start dropping, fatigue slowly claiming her beleaguered mind.

"I wouldn't have done what you did, you know. Save him. He tried to have you killed, he almost took you from me; if it were me…" He trails off, lets the angry, dark thoughts tumble into the silence of the night and her heart aches for him, for all the fear, rage and pain he's had to endure.

She rests her palm over his heart, presses a tender kiss to his neck, unerring conviction in her voice when she speaks.

"You would have done the same."

He leaves the light on for her.