A/N: So this was another photo-prompt I gave myself. The photo in question is the cover art for this story and will also appear on Twitter. It was written while we were facing the horrifying prospect of the show ending with Beckett being killed. I needed an alternative ending to that and I recall a reviewer had recently said that I couldn't write Beckett as the one who was at fault if my life depended on it, so this is what emerged.
It's set about five years into the future, timing from around mid-S8 onwards. Though no longer a valid outcome, it was on my computer anyway, so I thought I may as well share.
Mirage
Castle emerged from the protection of his building and tugged the collar of his coat a little tighter. He kept his head trained down. Late October and already the days had an edge. The air was freshly chill despite the brilliant sunshine. It was a chill that dropped heavy hints of the winter to come. Ice-white clouds, fluffy and puffed up with moisture, scudded across a canvas of the purest blue. But Castle noticed none of this. He fumbled in his pants pocket for the key fob to his car, quietly cursing under his breath when he spotted Eduardo, his doorman, holding out the key for him. The engine was already running, the heated seats warming nicely, the windshield de-fogging. He thanked the man with the slip of a ten-dollar bill and the squint of a half-assed smile.
Head down against the punishing whip of wind from Crosby Street, he missed the woman standing in the dirty doorway of the restaurant opposite. The elegant woman dressed in expensive cashmere sweater and long vicuna coat, a tasteful palate of camel and cream that positively reeked of money. Classy, stylish, old school money.
"Castle!"
Two feet from his car, he heard his surname and froze. His old surname, that was. The one he made up when he became a writer to bolster his marketability and create a persona he felt was more worthy of his books than plain old Richard Rodgers. He hadn't heard that name in over five years. Not said in that tone and with that urgency. His head shot up.
He hadn't heard that voice lately either.
She stepped out of the shadows, confident, like a model stepping off the cover of Vogue. So poised, still slender, still willowy-tall. She was a few years older. Hell, they all were. But she looked more beautiful, more…expensive and self-assured than ever. Almost impossibly so.
"Beckett?" he murmured under his breath.
He asked this unneeded question of himself as he watched her dodge a cab and a mammoth pothole in four-inch patent heels to cross the street towards him. Her pearl gray pants hung low on her hips, smart pleats and a razor-sharp crease pressed down the front of each leg that seemed to make her even taller.
"Beckett?" he repeated when she got within earshot, his brain still numb, though his heart was already at a thundering gallop.
"Hey, Castle," she smiled. Nerves tugged at her cheeks, making her muscles spasm. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed.
Castle cast a furtive glance up the street as if he was reluctant to be seen with her. "What are you doing here?"
He watched as she reached for her pocket and he flinched. Kate's eyes grew larger when she realized why. Slowly, she pulled a folded sheaf of paper out of her deep coat pocket, her other hand held wide and open. "Don't worry. I'm not armed."
Her joke fell flat.
"No?" Castle eyed her uneasily. Whatever this was, it didn't look good. Things hadn't been good for him for a while. By now he knew what not good looked like.
"No. I'm here on legal business," she stated, surprising him.
"Legal?'
"Yeah. And I'm with the D.A.'s office now." A small smile appeared and shrank back immediately, like a wave on the beach or the sun and a cloud – it came and went, in and out. But she looked and sounded quietly proud.
Castle's eyebrows shot skyward. "You passed the bar? Congratulations."
She smiled then, a genuine, unguarded smile. Bashfully, she looked down at her $300 shoes before forcing herself to meet his eye. "Yep. Finally made it. It's ADA Beckett now."
"You changed your name?"
She shook her head. "No. It's still the same. But I hear you changed yours."
His ears flushed and his face grew stony. The name change had been reactionary. Ultimately, a mistake. He didn't want to think about it, much less discuss it. "Kate, why are you here?"
"To bring you these." She held out the blue-covered sheaf of legal papers and his heart hit the floor.
"You signed them," he said with such dejection that they both felt ashamed.
Kate toed a tiny pebble on the ground. It made a scraping noise, dry as chalk on a blackboard and harsh as a scream. She shook her head. Her long hair danced around her shoulders. "Actually, no."
Castle watched her face with naked curiosity. "I thought your lawyer finally agreed to everything? My lawyer said—"
"She did." Kate chewed the inside of her cheek. Her pulse thrummed in her neck and a tiny nerve beneath her right eye began to flutter.
Castle frowned and then he cocked his head. "You need more? Is that it?" he asked quietly, looking like he'd agree to anything in the world if she would simply get out of his sight. She looked stunning, so beautiful he felt a hole had ripped open in his chest and that chilly wind was cutting right through.
"I don't need anything, Rick. Not money, at least."
He narrowed his eyes. "Then…"
She stepped closer and he took an involuntary step back. He watched her face fall when she saw what he was doing. How he wanted to keep a distance between them.
"I haven't signed anything. I came to give these back."
She held the folded sheaf of papers out towards him, but they both just stared at them, like they were too toxic to touch. Eventually, she dropped her arm back to her side.
"You could have mailed them," he said stiffly.
"I couldn't."
"Courier then, if you're worried about privacy."
She briefly closed her eyes. "No…I came because I wanted to see you. Needed to see you," she corrected herself with a cross little frown.
The large vein in her forehead stood out despite the cold. Castle had an irrational urge to reach out and touch it, to press his lips to that tender blue line the way he had on so many occasions in their past, late at night or early mornings in their bed, still warm with sleep or sated after sex.
He coughed and stood up straighter, trying to get ahold of himself. "Why?"
Kate took a deep breath. "I made a mistake."
"What kind of mistake?" He sounded wary, but he pushed the question towards her anyway.
She whacked the papers against her thigh. They hit her heavy coat with a dull thwack. "This. Thinking I could walk away."
He laughed. It sounded horribly hollow. "You did. Quite successfully by the sound of it."
His flatline tone was challenging. It reminded her of how they'd been before she left and the scant few times they had spoken by phone since, to deal with legal matters and to arrange a couple of disastrous dinners with Alexis in the early days, before they all simply gave up and drifted apart.
Kate took a moment to compose herself, and then she forged onwards. She would not be put off. This had waited too long already. She had waited too long already - for the right time or the perfect moment and all those other lies she'd told herself from before they even got together.
"I'm trying to be honest here," she explained, calmly.
"Little too late for honesty, don't you think?" He lobbed his response at her, laden with bitterness and sarcasm. But she found she could hardly blame him.
She shook her head in disagreement. "It's never too late."
Castle looked at her flatly, deadpan expression, unconvinced.
"We used to be…" She bit her lip. Her eyes were watering. Castle told himself it was only the wind.
"Partners?" he suggested, though it came out sounding like a pat response.
"I was going to say best friends."
"That too," he nodded, grimly.
"What happened, Castle?"
"You moved on. Big shot lawyer now. You'll make Supreme Court Justice in no time. Your dream job as I recall." He sounded so brittle, peddling words that were almost mocking with their sarcastic taint.
Kate tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked humbled. Or maybe life had simply beaten her down. "Dreams are never what you think they're going to be."
"Yeah, got that right," Castle said, sorely.
They both knew the dream to which he was referring. The partnership that had grown into love. The marriage that had quickly turned into a nightmare. The years' long separation that had brought them to the edge of divorce.
Her hand fluttered at her throat, reaching for the comfort and softness of her turtleneck, and the sunlight caught her rings. The row of diamonds exploded in a shower of color, radiant as a firework display. Castle saw the twinkling diamonds and a chip of ice melted inside his heart.
"You're wearing your rings." His observation came out cleanly this time, without any judgment to tarnish or defile.
Kate glanced at her hand and frowned slightly, clearly puzzled by his remark. "Why wouldn't I?"
The writer shrugged, regretting bringing the subject up. He hoped she wasn't point scoring. 'We're separated…divorcing,' he almost said. But he caught himself just in time and more wisely went with, "No reason. You didn't always," instead.
She shrugged and put her hand away. "Jewelry's a risk when you're cop. You know that. Legal work is…far safer." This was true, despite her mother's experience. "Biggest risk I run these days is a paper cut," she joked, with a sad little smile.
Fleetingly, Castle wondered if her rings kept men at bay. But modern life…if websites like Ashley Madison and its ilk were any indicator, a wedding band was probably catnip to a certain class of men. A flashy diamond engagement ring: the cherry on the cake.
Castle had retreated inside his head again, she could see. So she tried to get them back on track.
"Look, I was wrong, Castle. So wrong."
He raised his head slowly, disbelieving. But she nodded to indicate that he'd heard her correctly. This was new. She had his attention now. "Go on."
The wind whipped her hair across her face and she brushed it out of the way. Castle watched this familiar gesture with a sense of déjà vu and the stirring of a familiar longing. Then he clamped it off like a severed artery and tightened his jaw. "Go on," he repeated more loudly, clearing his throat.
"The whole…P.I. thing. I was unsupportive. I undermined you. But those were our jobs, Rick. How did we lose our marriage over a career move?"
Castle stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold. "You wanted more. More than me."
She jumped right in. "That was never true."
"I think you'll find it was. I was an embarrassment to you. The class clown, I think you said."
"That was years ago! You were my partner," she vociferously insisted, reminding Castle or herself. "You were my husband," she added more softly, her voice breaking on this final word. "Still are," she pointed out, using the unsigned divorce papers as Exhibit A.
"What do you want, Kate? An anniversary card?" he asked, pain turning his tone to pure snark the longer this dragged on, his need to maintain his anger exhausting him.
"I want you," she admitted in a voice that said she knew this was a hopeless request and a hopeless quest. "Still want you."
"Did he dump you?"
His question stung like a slap to the face. Kate stared at her husband, wondering if she had been the one to make him this hard, this cynical - her sweet, charming, happy, man-child. She shook her head again. "There is no one else. Never has been."
Castle snorted and looked away. "It's been five years, Kate. Just look at you," he said, throwing his arm up to sweep down the length of her body. The cold air burned his fingers. "You look like a Victoria's Secret model. You're actually trying to tell me you've been living like a nun all this time?"
"I'm married. I take my vows seriously," she insisted calmly.
He could tell that she was being truthful, she'd hardly ever lied, but he bit back anyway, provoked by his own pain. "No need to get all preachy."
Castle watched Kate's eyes cloud over. How their light dimmed and her open expression closed down like a flower at dusk. She tensed up. "So…I'll take it from that you've moved on. Who is she?" Try as she might, she couldn't keep the jealousy out of her voice.
He looked at his feet and then he looked back at her. "You're not the only one who can take vows seriously." He held up his left hand to show off his own wedding ring. The platinum band gleamed dimly from wear and tear.
He saw her release a shaky breath and her shoulders dropped.
"So…then…all's not lost," she pointed out, far too quickly and with too much hope in her voice for Castle's liking.
"Are you nuts? You left me. Walked out of that very building," he said, gesturing behind him, "with even less than you brought. Couldn't get out of there fast enough."
"We were in a bad place. Tearing each other apart," she argued.
Her chin trembled and for a second, he felt sorry for her.
"And whose fault was that?"
"I'm trying to apologize. I'll take all of the blame. Becoming Captain…it changed us. Destroyed who we were."
"That was a job, Kate, as you've already pointed out. We failed on home turf. We failed at home and—"
"And what?" Now she had him talking, she hoped he wouldn't stop. She was learning more in the last five minutes than she'd learned in the last five years.
Castle stewed in front of her. One, two, three…his right eye twitched. He looked like a pressure cooker about to blow. And then he did.
"We said together," he scraped out hoarsely, raking a hand through his hair. "We said we'd take Bracken down together. You promised and—"
"And we did!" Kate exclaimed, her eyes flaring.
"But that wasn't the end. That wasn't the end of it and you cut me out. You distracted me, like my life was just some shell game. You distracted me with the P.I. license, the office, the gumshoe, private dick jokes. And all the while you were running around behind my back—"
"Protecting you!" she yelled, drawing a startled stare from a woman across the street. She lowered her voice, regained her composure. "I was protecting you, Castle. You and Martha and Alexis. I was working to keep all of you safe. To keep my family safe."
She looked worn out by the time she'd finished explaining. Worn out like she'd run through this speech a million times over and never got it right. She let him keep the fantasy where he was duped into working for himself like she was some puppet master controlling his life. She'd take the blame for global warming and all the world's wars, if only he would look at her like he used to. Just one more time.
They stood in the street staring at one another, two angry, hurt people who had once loved each other more than life itself, both breathing heavily.
Kate closed her eyes. She shook her head when she opened them and took a step back. "I guess this was a mistake. Coming here…thinking I could—" She bit her lip and winced at the sidewalk. Tears blurred her vision and she swiped at them viscously, smearing kohl liner out the side of her eye.
He didn't want to feel sorry for her, but he was powerless not to. You didn't just stop feeling or stop caring where Kate Beckett was concerned. Or at least Richard Castle couldn't.
He cleared his throat, embarrassed for her. "Thinking you could what? What exactly were you thinking?"
"I've been seeing this counselor." Her voice was shaking. Another tear raced down her cheek and she let it be this time.
"You're seeing your therapist again?" He sounded concerned. That was progress.
Kate shook her head. "No. PTSD's under control. No, I found a couples counselor. She's really good."
Castle's brow furrowed. "You're going to couples counseling by yourself?" He almost sounded amused. It helped to ease the horrendous tension.
Kate mustered a self-deprecating smile and a shrug. When she spoke it was with a nervous, watery chuckle. "Figured I'm more than half the problem, I should get a head start on fixing it. Right?"
"How…how does that work?" He sounded genuinely interested if hesitant to be drawn in.
Kate grabbed on with both hands to this glimmer of interest and she embraced it. "We talk a lot. About you."
"I thought you said—"
Kate held up a hand. "No, I am the problem, Rick. I know that. But we talk a lot about you. About what I'm hoping for. About why it didn't work…the first time. About why I want it to work now. Why I need it to work. About how I'm going to make amends."
When she was finished talking she stared at him – eyes open wide, fearless and hoping. Like she'd just laid her heart out on a platter for him to inspect, or dissect.
"I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll come with me."
He looked as surprised as he was fearful, scared by her hope and the murk it might stir up. "I thought we were done with all of this."
"I never give up. You know that."
"Not always a good thing." He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
"I know that too. Just say you'll come. To a session. You can listen. You don't have to talk."
"What good would that do?"
"We need a neutral space. I need to make amends. There are things you don't know…things you need to hear."
"If this is about LokSat, I've had my fill. I'm out." He held his hands up in front of him. The old fear came rushing back, pinching his features.
She shook her head. "No. I'm done with that too. That's in the past. This is about us, Castle. About how much…I miss you." She paused and then regrouped, to steady her voice. "This is about how much I still love you and why I never gave up hope."
He frowned, not quite believing what he was hearing. "You were the one who went to that pit-bull of a divorce lawyer," he pointed out.
Kate looked ashamed and then desperate. She could feel everything slipping away again. "Things got out of hand. I was trying to shock you into caring. Somewhere down the line, you…you stopped caring, Castle. I needed you to see me…to fight for us. Do something…feel something."
"You picked a funny way of showing it." His tone and expression mellowed after this blast of righteous anger. His shoulders dropped. He'd said his piece. He had no fight left.
Kate stood her ground. She scuffed her pump on the sidewalk and stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her bulky, military style coat, waiting him out with the power of silence as her only weapon. That and what love might still exist in his heart for her.
As ever, given that little glimmer of hope, Castle was powerless to resist. "If—" He stalled and the wind dropped. "If I say I'll come to a session…"
Kate held her breath. He spoke slowly, every word chosen with care.
"…it doesn't mean anything. I mean…" Castle blew out some air and it fogged between them. "I mean it means something, obviously. I just don't want you to get your hopes up."
Kate clenched her fingers into tight fists inside her pockets, digging her nails into her palms until they left painful red crescents behind. The pain felt good, cathartic. "I promise." She withdrew one hand from her coat and drew a cross over her heart.
Castle nodded at the ground and began to shuffle from foot to foot. "Okay, then. So…you'll text me the date and time of your next session?" He couldn't believe he was agreeing to this, but for the first time in years, he felt excited about life.
Kate arched one eyebrow. "I can do that…yeah…" She smiled slyly and left the sentence dangling. It hung out there so obvious they could both see it.
"You could do that or what?" Castle laughed. "Come on. What's the 'or what' in this scenario?"
She smiled wider, enjoying being caught out by him. Enjoying being easily read by the one human being who still knew her best of all. "Or…we could grab a coffee. Make a head start on our homework."
"She gives out homework, this counselor of yours? I thought you said she was fun."
Kate grinned. "No, I said she was good."
Castle grinned back. "Good?" He nodded, chewing things over. "I like the sound of that. So…still drinking coffee. Guess some things don't change."
Kate feigned horror, clutching at her chest. "Don't tell me you're a tea man now?"
Castle let out a burst of laughter and it felt so good he thought he might cry. It was like using muscles you hadn't used in a long time. He shook his head because he couldn't speak, not for a second; his throat was so tight with emotion.
Kate saw this and she hurried to help him out. "So…how about that coffee? But only if you're not busy. Are you busy?" she asked, gesturing towards Castle's car, which was still idling behind them. "You know, someone should really write you a summons for that. $220 ticket for curbside idling, Mr. Castle," she tutted, crossing her arms.
"Once a cop always a cop," he muttered, slowly shaking his head. But at least he was still smiling.
Castle pointed his fob at the silver Mercedes-Benz and remotely killed the engine.
"So…you're not going anywhere after all." Kate was nakedly relieved.
"No. Seems I'm going on foot today. Where are we going, ADA Beckett?"
When he was with her and things were good, as they were right now, he felt Richard Rodgers melt back into the shadows and Richard Castle step out into the light to take his place, a far more confident and happy man.
Kate shrugged. "Honestly? I don't care. Just so long as we go there together." She glanced at him shyly after she said this, and he nodded his quiet
He was still guarded, still holding himself at some remove. But it was a start. There was the beginning of something there and that was more than Kate knew she deserved.
They passed the entrance to Castle's building, and when she reached the corner, Kate realized that she was walking alone. She turned around to see Castle handing his key to Eduardo, giving him an instruction to re-garage the car.
Kate waited for him by the curb. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She counted the seconds and then slowly she turned and smiled as wide as she could. She held out her hand to him. "You comin', Castle?" she asked, and with his answering smile and a nod, they stepped off the sidewalk together.
That was for the reviewer who wanted the show to end with the immortal line: "You comin', Castle?" Hope you enjoyed. Love to hear your thoughts. Liv