Chapter One

"I was going to tell him you know, had it all figured out." Her voice is muffled, her head in her hands. "I was going to ask him over, have dinner and tell him everything; that I remembered, that I was sorry and that I felt the same. But I just – I was too late. I'm too late and he left."

She's never been the kind of woman to just air out her self-pity, but in the last couple of months, the routine sessions have helped her voice everything she's thinking – everything she couldn't say to the people that were meant to hear it. Burke sits there patiently as always, waiting for her to finish her train of thought before pitching a question that always gets the train rolling again.

"You said he's still showing up, at the Precinct."

"Yes but it's not really him. It's the old Castle – the one that would flaunt his fame and charm the wits out of everything with a heartbeat. The Castle that shows up isn't the one I fell in love with." And it hurts knowing that he's back to his old ways, back to the man she could never see herself with. She's had so many scenarios go through her head of how and why he's like this, but she's too terrified to even acknowledge that any of those scenarios could be true.

"But he's still there, with you?"

"I-Yeah – but that's not the point, it's different now and I don't know what to do." She lifts her head from her hands and avoids Burke's eyes, turning instead to face the window. She hates it. Hates that it feels like she's taken 6 steps back in the progress she worked so hard to reach. That with this, she's reminding that she's still broken, that she took too long to attempt to fix herself and missed her chance.

"Have you tried talking to him about this?"

"Ofcourse I have, but he brushes me off every time I pull him aside to talk. Can't even bare to be in the same room alone with me for me to even get a normal conversation going."

"And why do you think that is?"

"I don't – I don't know." Her voice falters for a moment, slowly breathes out to find the courage to voice a thought she wholly resents herself for having. "Maybe he's had enough, waited too long and I'm not enough anymore. Maybe he's finally seen how broken I am and he's getting over me."

For a second, Burke's eyes flash with concern. He's never seen her this resigned – not even after the case with the sniper and her PTSD had been triggered and caused her to spiral. No, what he sees is a woman whose heart is broken. More so than when a bullet had been lodged in it.

"But what about you Kate? Are you going to let him get over you without him knowing the truth?"

"God Burke, I don't want him to, God no. I just – maybe this is what he deserves. To find someone that can actually give him everything I thought I could give him and everything I can't."

He pulls up to the curb and the roar of the cherry red car quiets as he pulls out the keys. He's parked in front of a familiar black Harley Soft-tail, but thinks nothing of it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. It's not until he sees her walk out of an old but classic looking building that he realises it's hers. He lets out a sigh, instantly regretting the place he'd chosen to park.

He looks up but sees that her head is still down as she walks out, fishing for her keys from her leather jacket. When she finally looks up, she spots him immediately. Sees the instant tensing of his broad shoulders and the cold stare of his eyes.

"Beckett." He nods out of courtesy but not really looking into her eyes, instead looking towards the grey of the wall behind her, next to her head and still in his line of vision. "Don't think I've ever seen you around this area Beckett, what're you doing here?"

"Hey Castle." She smiles softly, but he can see the tiredness in her eyes and her body. "Just finished my appointment, so I was gonna get some groceries and head home. What about you Castle?"

"I'm meeting someone for breakfast. Thought the café a few shops down looked cute."

"Ahh." She nods, trying to swallow down the sudden torrent of emotions that have resurfaced after her session with Burke. She's normally composed by now – at the bottom of the steps of the building, always manages to get herself in order after her appointment by the time she gets to the streets and the outside world. But not today. Not with him standing there by his Ferrari and dressed for a breakfast date. "With umm, what's her name – Jacinda?"

"Yeah," He gives her one of his signature 'Richard Castle world famous author' smiles and continues, "that's the one."

"Oh, uhh – well if you're taking her to The Pulse at the corner, they make a mean mushroom and ricotta omelette. I've had it once or twice." It's now that she's decided that if he's trying to get over her, then she should at least be civil about it – it's the least she can do for him.

"Oh yeah, thanks, I might actually take your advice then." She smiles then, a small exhale as she nods at him. Yeah. She can do this – she can at least be his friend if she can't have him as anything more.

"Well look Castle, I don't want to make you late or keep her waiting, so-" She makes her way to her motorcycle, reaching out for her helmet as something clicks in his head, as he figures that she's been in the area often to know what's good at the little café down the road.

"Wait – you said you had an appointment here?"

"Uh, yeah. A pretty regular one I guess – nothing special." Her head tilts towards the building she'd walked out of, motioning to the plaque on the wall and he's finally curious enough to read the letters on the wall.

Dr. Carter Burke.
Psychologist.

"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist." He's taken a couple of steps towards her, momentarily forgetting the fact that he's angry with her, that she lied to him and that he's hurting. For now, he's just concerned. She looks at her feet for a moment, fingers playing with the edge of her helmet, finally looking up and into his eyes.

"Yeah, have been ever since the shooting. Every Saturday at 9:30 am."

"I-Wow. I thought everything was okay, I mean aside from the sniper case, I thought you were fine."

"I was, I mean I am. But I still show up. Guess there's still a few things I'm trying to deal with in terms of my shooting and everything that happened that day. It's uhh – still a little difficult but I just wanted to put in the work and not make any excuses for myself."

He's scolding himself now, angry at himself for never noticing. Every Saturday she'd said. He knows they don't really socialise on the weekend, him always spending time with Alexis or writing, and assuming that she had her own errands to run. But for the last year, how could he not see it?

"Deal with your shooting? I thought-"

"Rick!" It's another voice a small distance down the road that interrupts him, the blonde woman waving at him as she begins to walk up towards him. He waves back, but turns to Beckett because he needs to know more. Wants to know more about why she's here and never said a word about it. But when he turns back, she's straddled on her motorcycle with her helmet on her head but her visor up.

"I'll see you at work Castle." Before he can protest, she flicks her visor down and turns the handlebars of her motorbike, letting it roar to life, indicating out and riding away from the kerb. He's still watching her speed off down the road when a hand wraps around his elbow.

"Who was that Rick?"

He's still standing there stunned, completely lost as to what on earth just happened and trying to absorb the snippet of information she'd just passed him.

She's been going to therapy. To deal with her shooting. The shooting she'd told him she couldn't remember. The memory she'd lied about for a year. A year he tells himself. A year in which she'd spent not telling him about it, about any of it – the memory or the therapy. And he doesn't know anymore; has no idea what to do with this knowledge or if it changes anything at all. If it changes the fact that he's still hurt and that she still doesn't feel that same. It doesn't he thinks to himself, she still remembers and she still lied about it.

And then he's being pulled by the hand up the street again, alongside a blonde woman who's obviously set on having breakfast and smiling brightly at him as she updates him on her latest flight and the mishap that one of the passengers had had with a bag of almonds and a can of coke.

Yeah – it doesn't change a damn thing.

A/N: So it's been a while since I've actually written anything at all, but in order to avoid an assignment due later today, I was itching to get this out. I know it's been done so many times but I'm so very into this arc. It'll be a short fic with a few chapters – figured I'd start small. Any advice would be greatly appreciated because like I said, totally rusty at this whole thing.