She goes without hesitation, reservation, drawing herself up and in against him with a shaky sigh that she's forced to breathe through for a moment before it regulates again. After a while, she doesn't hear her heart pounding in her ears anymore, and other sounds turn up to take its place: the faint chugging of the radiator in the living room, the audible ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway, the sound of Castle's breathing, sure and steady against the crown of her head.

She clings in the interim, her hand clutching onto his shirt, sniffling once, leaving the remnants of her tears to soak in and dry on the finer fabric, crying silently, and it's a good while before she moves to lift her head, her nose brushing against the side of his neck while her eyes, their lashes damp, stick to her cheeks with each blink.

"I lost my mother to that son of a bitch," she whispers, her hand moving from his chest to graze along his cheek as she presses her forehead to the other one, breathing a little easier with every inhale and release.

"I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you, too."