Title: The Glass Castle.
Rating: K
Author: Eyrianone
Disclaimer: Nothing of what you recognize belongs to me; I've just done a 'Beckett' & fallen in love with Richard Castle.
Summary: Episode tag for 'The Final Nail'. "Personally I have no doubt. But Richard Castle believes in you and I believe in him . . ."
A/N. A quick one shot I needed to get out of my system after re-watching this stellar episode, back to 'Phoenix' now.
"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy. F. Scott Fitzgerald said that." Beckett tells him, watching with a sinking stomach as Damian Westlake is placed hand-cuffed in the back of a black and white.
She glances over at her partner and isn't happy to see the carefully neutral face he's wearing, damn Damian Westlake to hell she thinks.
"Must have been Ernest Hemingway who said, 'Damn I sure could use a drink right about now.'" The writer responds, and she can hear the hurt in his voice only very slightly, he's covering it well.
"Lead on. I'm buying." She offers.
Castle looks over at her surprised. "It's Valentine's Day, aren't you supposed to be in a new dress in a restaurant somewhere ordering surf and turf?"
She does have plans with Josh, and she should be looking forward to them, but she can't go out and enjoy herself if she's worrying about Castle. The fact that she'd rather be with him than Josh anyway is a reason she squashes as soon as it flashes across her mind.
"I have a couple of hours. Are you okay?" She asks instead, giving him an opening to talk.
"I'm fine." He says, as they begin to stroll along the street.
He's a terrible liar.
"Liar." She whispers softly, nudging his arm with her shoulder.
They wander for block after block leaving her unmarked car miles behind them and strangely she finds herself unconcerned, well at least about that. All her concern is centered squarely to her left, Castle is always talkative, brooding silences are always cause for mild panic.
Eventually the upper west side gives over to simply the west side and suddenly Castle grabs for her arm and steers her across the street and into bar appropriately named 'Ricki's'.
"Scotch?" She asks him, pushing him towards a booth in the corner. It's only five o'clock, but she has no intention of letting him drink alone. He nods, looking suddenly weary and she impulsively reaches out for his hand squeezing it briefly as she smiles and heads for the bar.
She orders and when she's got their drinks she turns to go and join Castle in the booth when her phone rings. Replacing their drinks on the bar behind her, she pulls the smartphone from her pocket and sees its Josh calling her. When it occurs to her that she actually hopes he's calling to cancel on her on Valentines Day she realizes how absurd her relationship with the surgeon has become.
"Beckett." She says automatically.
"Hey babe. We still on for tonight?" Apparently he's not calling to cancel. She pauses for a moment and then thinks to hell with it and proceeds to lie through her teeth.
"About that, I was just about to call you – I'm sitting on a suspect's house waiting on an arrest, I'm sorry but I don't think I can make it." She tells him.
There is moment of silence before he responds. "I see. Okay well I guess I'll take the on-call shift Sam's been trying to dump on me all day. Can I crash at your place when I get off, it won't be until the wee hours but at least I can fall into bed with you at the end of it?"
"Sure. See you then." Wincing to herself she hangs up, and just like that puts Josh completely from her mind as the far more important matter of getting Castle to talk to her re-asserts itself.
She takes a seat from him across the booth and pushes his scotch into his hand.
"Drink up Castle. Then talk." Her voice is gentle but demanding.
He plays with the glass saying nothing and then he manages a weak smile at her, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes but doesn't light them up.
"I told you I'm fine. It's just rough you know. I believed in him . . . when I told you I'd solve his father's murder, I figured I could do it but when I did I never expected the solution to be what it was. I was so sure he wasn't capable of murder . . . but it's like you said . . . I didn't really know him at all did I? My Damian Westlake, he really was a figment of my imagination."
He lifts his scotch glass to his lips and downs the entire thing. Kate looks over at the bartender, and signals that they need another round, and then she tips her own glass to her mouth and follows his lead.
"I'm sorry I told you that Castle. Just because Damian did what he did, it doesn't change all he did for you, he was a friend to you at a time when you needed one, and he encouraged you, he had his value in your life . . . its okay to remember that, people are more than their mistakes."
Castle nods. "How could I be so wrong about him?" He asks.
"Because you're a good friend Castle, you had no reason to believe otherwise." She tells him, reaching over the table to place her hand over his.
Castle shakes his head. "I should have known."
Their second round of drinks arrive, Beckett hands the waitress a twenty and sends her on her way, noting the way the young woman's eyes travel all over Castle on her way back to the bar.
What is it with women and her partner? Oh right, it's the fact that he's tall, handsome and clearly rich. The quality of his clothes and the insanely expensive wrist watch easily give him away.
It's all she used to see too, well that and his cocky arrogant womanizing attitude, and she was as wrong about who he really is as he was about Westlake. And maybe it's time she told him that.
"You were wrong about something else too." She begins; the flash of hurt across his face makes her quick to continue.
"You told me without Damian Westlake you wouldn't be you; that you'd be a lawyer or a grifter or a rodeo clown, but not a writer. You're wrong you know, he didn't give you your talent, he only recognized it. You were fourteen Castle; if it wasn't Damian someone else would have recognized it too. Some of us fall onto our paths, me for example, my mother lives and I'm not a cop. But you, you were born to do what you do, you couldn't be something else if you tried Castle . . . you're a writer . . . it's really that simple."
The novelist stares at her slightly open-mouthed, and then he flips his hand over where it lies beneath hers and links their fingers as he finds his smile, one that does light his eyes this time.
"Thank you Kate."
"I've been wrong about people Castle. I used to think you were a shallow, annoying smart-ass. Funny, insightful for sure, but a real pain in my behind, a nuisance I could really do without."
"You said you were wrong about me." He adds.
The smile she gives him could power all of Manhattan.
"I was. Sure you have your arrogant moments – we all do. Shallow – not really, you're more of a 'guy', but though you like to pretend to be shallow, I don't really see that. Annoying – okay well I was right there. Smartass, see I think if you can back up your smarts, and in your case you can, you're one of the smartest people I know Castle, so I was wrong there too. You're an amazing Dad, a caring son, and the most loyal friend I can imagine. You're not a pain in my behind Castle . . . not anymore, you're my partner. You're the only partner I want."
Deep down inside her words resonate within her, you're the only man I want . . . that she leaves unsaid.
"I'm speechless detective." His voice sounds the tiniest bit choked.
"I went to see Westlake while you were looking into his father's case. I asked him to prove to me that he had not paid someone to kill his wife; I didn't think he could do it. And I told him the only reason I was giving him the benefit of the doubt was because Richard Castle believed in him, and I believed in you Castle. I meant every word."
"Again, I'm speechless Kate." He squeezes her hand tightly.
"A first huh Castle?" She grins.
He shakes his head. "Where you're concerned? No you've rendered me breathless more than once."
The look in his eyes does funny things to her stomach, so she's about to point out she said 'speechless' not 'breathless' when she understands he knows what he said.
He releases her hand, and lifts his second scotch, downing it the way he downed the first.
"Let's walk back to the car. I don't want you to be late for motorcycle boy." He says lightly.
Kate leaves her second drink on the table and gets up to follow him out, on the street she surprises him by linking their arms and as they head back to her car she asks him,
"How about we grab dinner Castle?"
"What about surf 'n' turf and doctor you know who? He asks.
"Plans got changed. Maybe you can be my Valentine instead?" She says.
He smiles, a full Castle smile, the one that could charm the birds from the trees.
"Anytime Kate . . . anytime."