Lucifer & Beckett
"Maybe I am in hell," Kate replied, her jaw tight with tension as the frustration and anger she had for herself bubbled up again. "Personal purgatory for being a selfish idiot." On some level she had known even when she walked out of her home that she was making a mistake, that the best solution was to go back, apologize and figure out a way to solve the problem and obtain justice for her friends without blowing up the best part of her life. But fear had a way of controlling you, just as loving someone had a way of convincing you to do terrible things because it seemed to be the best solution.
But six weeks later, Kate Beckett knew it had all been a lie. Her place was with Castle, not pushing him away to chase ghosts, or on some spaceship over two-hundred years into the future. But she was here, floating through space with the devil and a drink and hating herself for a decision that she couldn't take back.
So, if not a literal hell, it was certainly a figurative one.
"Sure you did," she countered, drumming her fingers on the bartop and doing her best to push the misery and guilt away. Those emotions were black holes, so easily able to suck you down into an abyss of depression and uselessness and she was determined not to let it win. So Kate sat up straighter, fixing Lucifer with a pointed glance. "Even if it's just because you were scared of what your actions really meant, or because you were bored, or just didn't want to be bothered anymore. There's always a reason, even if you don't want to look too closely to find it."