So, it seemed to me, that in the fourth-season opener, Beckett didn't go up to Ryan or Esposito, she just stood there and waited to be acknowledged. Or just watched. This is basically just her thoughts during this moment. In reality, it would only be about two or three minutes long, which is why it's so short.
P.S: I changed the title after I saw just how many Castle stories have the word "moments" in them.
Ring around the rosie.
Kate stands there.
She blinks.
She tugs at her coat, her feet shifting and squirming inside heeled boots, unaware what to do with themselves.
People mill about. Phones ring. Voices shout. Paper flaps.
She breathes in with as much security as an earthquake.
A tendril of hair escapes from her bun, clouding around her left eye.
Her fingers trace the strap of her bag, playing out silent, senseless tunes upon the leather.
She tries to remember how she'd thought this could be easy.
A pocket full of posies.
Her eyes scope out.
She doesn't see Castle.
Ashes.
Esposito rounds the corner, claps Ryan on the shoulder.
She presses her hand against her thigh to cease the tremor.
She thinks back to the dreams, the nightmares. Castle pinning her down. Falling. Arms squeezing her, like she was to shatter.
"Kate."
She flinches as she draws that one word back, for she knows with that, the rest must follow.
"I love you, Kate."
Ashes.
Floods of hot claw behind her eyelids. She presses mascara lids tight, fending them back.
Her hands delve into her pocket, fingering the therapist's business card.
She presses her lips together, because she will bite her nails if she doesn't.
Her eyes catch onto Montgomery's office, only it seems to be no longer. There is a woman in there, pacing and spitting into her phone, her face contorted as she does so.
Kate sucks in her cheeks and blows them out.
And we all fall down.
A spot on her chest throbs, but it is not her heart.
She breathes out, slow, from behind her teeth.
Her eyes sweep the scene, across the desks—her desk.
It's the way she left it.
There is a folder splayed across it, papers half spilling out. There is another stack of files, towered precisely, off to the left. Her trashbin is occupied with the last coffee Castle brought her.
Her tongue emerges to wet her lips. She breathes in, out, in again, the way the therapist taught her to do when she had her dreams.
She licks her lips.
Hush.
She picks lint off her coat.
She taps the base of her temples, where a small headache is forming.
She swallows.
Hush.
She presses her palm to her forehead, a coat of sweat developing.
Her inner cheek bleeds, where she doesn't realise she has been gnawing.
Hush.
She fingers the bottom of her coat.
She doesn't know when her shoes turned to cement.
Hush.
She blinks.
Her eyes scavenge the floor, flicking from desks, to people, to papers and flapping shutters and curling, laughing lips.
In the corner, a young blonde woman's eyes lock with hers, and they widen. Suddenly her face bursts into full bloom, and she raises her hands to clap.
Kate nods at her, giving a small shrug, throwing her a polite little smile in return.
We all fall down.
Kate stands there.
I was just watching the fourth-season opener and got some ideas. And I finally got to the weekend and wanted to celebrate!
Note to other fandoms! I have not abandoned you. In fact, I am currently working on a Big Bang one (maybe two?) shot, but all my free time has just suddenly dried up and all I felt inspiration for was this. Maybe I'll get to post that one tomorrow, though.
Have a nice weekend! I, personally, plan on staying inside with my laptop and a cup of tea because it's minus thirty outside.