Disclaimer: Castle and all of its characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC Studio. "Bruises" belongs to Train (featuring Ashley Monroe).
It has been brought to my attention that I have been writing quite a few Ryan/Esposito fics lately, and it made me realize that I have been neglecting Caskett, so, I figured it was time that I got back to writing the two of them. I've always felt like my "Castle" voice was stronger than anyone else, but I believe that is because he and I have very similar personalities, haha. I'm rambling...I'm gonna stop...right now...yeah.
"Haven't seen you since high school,
Good to see you're still beautiful,
Gravity hasn't started to pull quite yet.
I bet you're rich as hell."
"One that's five and one that's three,
Been two years since he left me.
Good to know that you got free,
That town I know is keeping you down on your knees."
These bruises make for better conversation,
Loses the vibe that seperates.
It's good to let you in again,
You're not alone in how you've been.
Everybody loses,
We all got bruises.
Castle stepped off the train carefully, his leather bag clutched in his hand, and glanced around the bustling station. He had been gone for the entire spring and a lot of the summer, and he had missed the city. He shuffled through the terminal slowly, his eyes fixed on his feet, and he thought about the last day that he'd spent in New York. He and Kate had been fighting, the words flying from both of them cutting through the air like daggers.
They had never had a fight that bad before, but, then again, they'd never had a problem between the two of them as bad as the one that had arisen when he found out she lied to him. Sure, now that he'd had time to cool off and allow himself to think over what could have potentially led them to that point, he could understand where she'd been coming from.
He had told her he loved her, and she wasn't ready to accept what that might mean, and where they would go from there. Hell, there was a miniscule portion of himself that had the same reaction, he had panicked and almost wished he hadn't blurted that out, but she had been bleeding out in his arms with a bullet lodged in her perfect skin and he hadn't really been thinking about anything other than not letting her die without knowing how he felt. He spent three years bottling things up, but that had been the sledge hammer that broke the wall.
He stepped out of the train station onto the busy sidewalk, the stale smell of sweat and the rancid smell of trash left in the summer heat too long hit him in the face. The open air of the country had been nice, and it had gotten the creative juices flowing so well that he'd finished "Frozen Heat" in the first two weeks and ended up writing "Broken Heat" before he had left as well. He sent the manuscripts to Paula and spent the rest of his time away contemplating how things had gotten so completely fucked up between them.
The bump in their relationship had transferred to Jameson and Nikki, but, then again, he knew it would. They were their fictional counterparts, afterall. Rook had told Nikki that he had to leave while he still had his dignity intact. And that's what Rick had done, he'd taken his leave while he could still repair the shards of his heart. Or so he thought.
The day that he'd left had been a Monday morning. The early spring rain had been streaming down the windows of the precinct when he stode through the bullpen, his mind steaming with anger.
She'd told the boys that she remembered everything from that day in the cemetary. Apparently she was alright with telling complete strangers in the interrogation room and her junior detectives the fact that she remembered him admitting his love for her, but it was a secret she didn't feel he had the right to be in on.
She had been hunched over her desk working on paperwork when he finally reached her. He stood stalk still in front of the desk, his fists balled at his sides, and stared at her until her eyes flicked up to look at him.
"You're staring again, Castle, I think that we've had this discussion once or twice before." She muttered, but the smile that played on her words was meant to take the sting out of them. When his face didn't break into a smile, and he didn't come back with some witty comment, a worried look fell over her. "What's wrong?"
"You remember." He snarled, his eyes shooting flames, and his voice sounded like knives.
"I'm sorry?"
"The day that you were shot, Kate. Don't play that game with me, you told the boys you remember, you told the suspect in the bombing case, but for some unknown reason, even though I'm the one person that you should have come to about it, you haven't told me. I'm done waiting, Kate."
"Rick, I didn't mean...I wasn't ready to tell you. I didn't want to have to accept that I felt the same way. I love you, Rick Castle, I've just been denying it because I wasn't ready but I am now."
"See, that's where you're wrong, we're done here, Kate. I'm leaving. I'm tired of waiting around for you to deem me worthy of your precious attention. I rented a cabin in the country, and I'm going to finish the new Nikki Heat. You won't have to worry about me being in the way or worry about what secrets you disclose. Goodbye, Detective Beckett." And with that, he'd turned on his heel, strode out of the precinct and down onto the street.
The cold rain pelted him as he stood there for a moment, staring at his car before he got into it, allowing the weight of his decision to sink in. He was leaving her, and he wasn't completely positive that he'd be coming back.
He sighed, slid into the driver's seat, and took off, leaving the precinct to disappear in his rearview mirror.
"Have you seen him?"
"Not in years. How 'bout her?"
"No but I hear she's in Queens with the man of her dreams."
"Funny, back then she said that about you.
Que sera, you'll never guess who I saw,
Remember Johnny B?"
"Remember him? We're best friends practically.
Let's do this soon again."
"Ten years, is that what it's been?
Can't believe how time flies by."
"Leaving you makes me wanna cry."
These bruises make for better conversation,
Loses the vibe that seperates.
It's good to let you in again,
You're not alone in how you've been.
Everybody loses,
We all got bruises.
He decided to walk back to the loft, deciding that the air would do him more good than riding in a stuffy taxi cab. He was halfway down the sidewalk when the first drops of rain began to fall.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." He grumbled. He ignored the rain drops, however, and kept walking. There hadn't been a day that he was gone that he hadn't thought of her. His mother had been right, he couldn't just shut off his feelings for her.
Her warm eyes had broken through the walls of his dreams a hundred times. Her laughter had carried on the wind in the song of a bird every morning. The woman at the grocery store was named Kate. She was everywhere. He couldn't out run her, and he couldn't get her out of his head.
He could have sworn that he saw her on his hike on the mountain when a woman passed by him, singing loudly and bobbing her head in the way that Kate had one of the many times he had walked into the precinct when she thought she was alone. The woman was halfway down the mountain before he realized that it wasn't her.
Alexis had texted him the day after he left to tell him that Kate had showed up at three o'clock that morning and waited outside the door until she'd left to go to the morgue for work the next day. She had slept outside his loft, waiting for him to come home. He'd told her that he was leaving, but apparently she had thought he'd been bluffing and had shown up to change his mind.
He couldn't believe that, after everything he'd said to her, she showed up on his doorstep. Of course, Alexis had told him that she wreaked of booze and looked as though she'd been thrown through the grinder. He also knew that she hadn't shown up to work that day. He'd never known Kate to miss work unless she had a damned good reason.
He had turned around and done the exact same thing that she'd done to him. He'd ripped her heart out of her chest and put it in a proverbial blender. He had been an asshole, and he didn't know if he was going to be able to fix it.
He shifted his shoulder to stop his bag from falling off as he stepped off the curb. He was deep in his own thoughts and didn't hear the taxi cab barreling towards him until he was sprawled across the pavement, watching the rain drops fall onto his unconcious body from behind the now forming crowd. So this is what an out of body experience felt like.
"I would love to fix it all for you."
"I would love to fix you too."
"Please, don't fix a thing,
Whatever you do."
These bruises make for better conversation,
Loses the vibe that seperates.
It's good to let you in again,
You're not alone in how you've been.
Everybody loses,
We all got bruises.
The next thing he remembered, he was tucked underneath the impossibly warm blankets of the hospital. Alexis and his mother were in chairs next to his bed staring at him with tears in their eyes. He couldn't say that he blamed them, he looked like death warmed over. Black and purple bruises adorned his entire body, his chest covered in angry red cuts, sewn together with black stitches.
Alexis sniffled loudly, her back shaking with the silent sobs. He felt his heart break a bit for his baby girl, wishing her could take her in his arms and kiss everything away. The steady beep of the monitors faded into the background as he walked out into the lobby.
Esposito was sprawled out across the horrifically patterned couch, his feet propped up on Ryan's lap and a droplet of drool hanging precariously from his lip. Ryan stared at his partner, a look of disgust blanketing his features.
Beckett stood in the corner, her back pressed against the wall, and a paper cup of, presumably cold, coffe clutched in her fingers. She looked like she'd been up for days, dark bags under her eyes showing her exhaustion, and yet his chest still clutched and he was stricken by her beauty.
She pushed herself off of the wall and slowly walked towards his room, chucking the spent coffee into the trash, and took a deep breath before entering his room.
Castle had a moment of complete darkness before his eyes fluttered open. He looked towards the chairs and saw that Alexis and his mother had vaccated the room, but Kate was slumped in the chair, her head buried in her hands.
"Hey." He rasped, his throat dry and sore. He winced as he reached for the cup of water on the table next to him. Her head snapped up to stare at him, her eyes wide, and a weak gasp escaping her lips. She was next to him almost immediately, her fingers grasping his. His breath hitched, pain searing through his bruised and scratched knuckles, but he squeezed her hand, urging her to keep it there when she tried to move it.
"Hey yourself. How you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a car. How long have I been out?"
"Two days. They didn't know if you were going to make it. Your brain was bleeding, they had to operate to relieve the pressure on it." She whispered. Castle reached his free hand up and touched the spongey gauze that was wrapped around the top of his head.
"Oh, shit." He muttered, catching her gaze nervously. "I guess I didn't realize exactly how bad off things were." He shrugged, wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulders at the action.
"You really had us all scared, Rick." She replied, reaching down to toy with the edge of his blanket shyly. He ducked his head to look into her eyes.
"Are you okay, Kate?"
"I..." She paused a moment, avoiding his gaze before finally meeting it. "No. I'm not okay. I almost lost you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To know that the last thing that you said to me was goodbye? Castle, that would have torn me apart." Her voice quivered and shook as she spoke the words. Castle's chest tightened as he watched the emotions flood across her face.
"I'm sorry, Kate. I should have known that you weren't ready to face it. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, and I shouldn't have run away. Again." He replied, his fingers lacing through hers tighter and pulling her hand to his lips, placing small, soft kisses on them.
"It wasn't your fault, Rick. You were right, I should have told you before I told them. I just...I didn't want to disappoint you."
"Kate, if you're not ready to discuss this, it wouldn't disappoint me. I want you to know that you don't have to do this if you're not ready. I can wait for you, Kate. I would wait for you until my last breath." She shook her head, a tear dropping off the edge of her nose and landing on the back of his wrist. The tiny droplet felt as though it was scorching into his skin. He made a concious decision to try to make sure she never cried again.
"Rick, I want to discuss this. I've gone long enough avoiding the subject. I want you to know how I feel about you. About...us." She responded. Rick's heart skipped a beat. It was silly really, the mention of one word being enough to have his palms sweating and nerves curling in his stomach.
"U-us?" He muttered, his blue eyes searching hers for some hint of what was going through her head. Her face betrayed nothing, always wearing her poker face, even when they were discussing their potential future together.
"Yes, Rick, us." She chuckled, gently touching his cheek, surveying the damage. "Jesus, how did you not see a taxi coming at you?" She muttered, lifting a cloth from the table and dipping it in the water before wiping away a small spot of dried blood.
"I was...thinking." He replied, his words stuttering at the feel of her hands on his face. He was pretty sure that was a feeling that he would never get used to. The smirk she shot him had butterflies attacking his stomach.
"I told you that was hazardous to your health." He laughed carefully, wincing when his ribs protested the action.
"I was thinking about you, Kate." Her laughter stopped immediately, her face falling into a curious frown.
"You were? What about me?"
"I was thinking that I was an idiot for leaving you here alone when I should have been here. I wasn't being a good partner, and I wasn't being a good friend. I was being selfish, and I apologize." Kate stared at him a moment, tears hovering in her eyes.
"Thank you, Rick. That really means a lot." She whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed and settling her hand on his chest. His heart thudded underneath her fingertips. She traced the outlines of the bruises there carefully, and he tried his best to supress the shudder that the action sent through him. "This one is shaped like an apple." She laughed quietly. Rick dropped his chin to his chest and examined the bruise her fingers had stopped on carefully. Sure enough, the faint outline of an apple, stem and all, stared back up at him tauntingly.
"Well isn't that fitting. You know that's my safeword, don't you?" He shot her a wink to accompany the statement.
"I think I've heard that once or twice." She giggled, moving on to the next bruise. The one that she traced next was one of the largest he'd sustained. "Look." She whispered. "It's shaped like a heart."
"That's not a bruise from the accident. That bruise has been there since day that I walked out on you. It's my broken heart." He deadpanned, causing her fingers to stop immediately and her gaze to settle on his. He could only maintain the blanket of seriousness for a few more seconds before he broke into a grin. She laughed and resisted the urge to playfully smack him.
She was tracing the curve of his chest when his hand caught hers, his fingers wrapping in between her own. She looked at him again, but found no trace of teasing this time.
"Kiss me, Kate." He whispered, his voice a low timbre of desire. She couldn't deny him the request even if she had wanted to. She would have committed murder if those blue eyes had been staring into hers when he told her to.
She leaned in, slowly so she didn't hurt him, and placed her lips against his gently, her fingers curling around the back of his neck and pulling him close. The soft gush of warm air that sounded like a gasp against his lips spurred him on and convincing him to nip her lower lip between his teeth gently. Kate leaned into him more fully, sending a spark of pain through his ribs, but he ignored it because Kate Beckett was kissing him. She was kissing him and there was no ridiculous premise of distracting a security guard, or a 1940's flashback in his own mind.
The first kiss they shared had been electric and full of intensity that had built up over three years of dancing around the issues that were obvious to everyone but them. This one was completely different. This was, while still electric, full of apologies and promises of tomorrows to come. This was a kiss that patched and mended broken hearts and chipped away at walls that they'd both put up while putting putty on the cracks of their shattered souls.
When they pulled away, her forehead resting lightly against his, Rick brushed his lips over her cheek and snaked his arms around her waist to keep her from running. Kate Beckett was, if anything, a potential flight risk and he did not want to lose the oppourtunity to change her mind about love and marriage.
"I love you, Kate. And that means that I'm here through it all. If you aren't ready to tell me that you love me, or if you're not even ready for us to move from more than best friends, more than just partners, I'm okay with that. I'm not going anywhere, because always means always and I want you to be able to trust that I will be there to have your back when you need me the most. No more running, and no more hiding. Everything is out in the open, no more secrets and lies. I promise." He held out his pinky and smirked when she laced hers with his.
"Deal. And I promise to be more accepting of the things that I cannot change."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean things such as; no matter how many times I tell you it's creepy, you're never going to stop staring at me. Anything I say can and will be used against me in a Nikki Heat context, and I'm okay with that. It's a good way to stake my claim. You're quite the novelty, Mister Castle, and I don't want to lose you to the first tour groupie that invites you back to the Ramada Inn for drinks and dinner. I want you to be someone that I can trust, someone who's motives I don't have to question. I want you to be my safe harbor from the storm when cases get rough. I want you to be there to pull me out of the rabbit hole if I ever start to slip into it again." She paused and took a shuddered breath. "I want you to be my knight in shining armor, Rick."
"I think I can do all of that, M'lady." He replied, making sure to affect an English accent on the last word.
"Why do you always assume that knights are British?" She rolled her eyes and held out a cup of lime Jell-o that he'd apparently missed sitting on the dinner tray table.
"Becuase, they were the medieval version of James Bond, and if you're going to mimick James, than you must be British." He replied in a tone that suggested it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Well, since they were in medieval times, I'm thinking that Bond actaully was mimicking them." Castle opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't seem to find a valid arguement. "But, that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is, Richard Castle are you willing to be all of that for always? Will you be my one and done and dive into this with me?" He smirked and pulled her into another heated kiss before pulling away and looking at her with tear stained blue eyes.
The response was now second nature. One word. That word meant everything to them though, and it contained everything that neither of them could find the words to say. It was enough to speak volumes in a single syllable, and it was enough to stop the world on its axis when they were finally able to speak it to one another again.
After four years of a convoluted Tango, in which neither of them fell completely out of the dance, but neither of them were willing to commit to learning the steps either, they were both finally on the same dance floor, learning how to keep time and construct something beautiful with their lives.
Richard Castle had been through hell and back the past four years, trying to convince Beckett that he was the perfect man for her and trying to convince himself that he could be everything that she needed and more. And finally, just when he'd been ready to call it quits and hang his hat up, she was there, asking him to be her everything. To be her one and done. He could not be happier if he had tried.
So, he nodded as vigorously as his head wound would allow him to without shifitng his equilibrium, sucked in a deep breath, and uttered the word that would tell her everything that they'd both been dying to hear.
"Always."
These bruises make for better conversation,
Loses the vibe that seperates.
It's good to let you in again,
You're not alone in how you've been.
Everybody loses,
We all got bruises.
We all got bruises.
We all got bruises.
We all got bruises.
Thoughts? Reactions? Suggestions? Drop me a review and let me know.
Much love, J. Rook