Story happens in time with the show, season wise. If I make other chapters to go along with this one they will most likely not be as long, I just felt that I couldn't split this one into two different chapters.
She should have waited for backup. Beckett knew that, but she also knew the man that put a bullet in her chest was getting away. One of the men tied up in her mother's murder. She couldn't let it go. She never could. The pull of her mother's case always kept her coming back. Like a magnet, she had tried to leave the magnetic field but the force was too strong. So she got pulled back. Back into the only life she thought she knew.
He overpowered her. She was hanging onto her life with all she had. As she hung in midair trying to regain her grip on the only thing keeping her from dropping to her death, she realized something. It wasn't enough.
Her own thoughts and some memories from the past came flooding through her mind like an open dam. They didn't all go in order, her thoughts sometimes coming in-between memories. But they kept coming back to one thing. The constant that has been in her life for years. Castle.
Her biggest regret was the first to reach the open dam.
She didn't tell him. Beckett knew what the aftermath of her actions may cause. But back when she was most vulnerable she could not stand the idea of losing him. So, instead of telling Castle the truth she played Castle for a fool. Pretending that she did not remember.
She knew it was cowardly and that the Kate Beckett he knew would never take the easy way out. So Beckett did. She took the easy way out. Knowing that he would believe her story. He always believes her stories. For a writer he was not very good at separating fact and fiction when it came to Beckett's life. Most things that happen to her are out of the ordinary anyway, so, why would he not believe her? She hated herself for lying to the guy she may even love.
She wants to be complete before her and Castle give it a go. Wants to be fixed. She's like a watch that stops ticking and is in need of some repair. And though she wants to be complete, she is starting to believe she never will be.
Then her thoughts switch to a memory she tries so hard to forget.
She has lost her mother and is distant from her father. Ever since she had to basically rip bottles of scotch from his grasp and make him fight. Fight for his life, fight for his sobriety, and maybe, just maybe, fight for her. She didn't want to lose another parent. She couldn't. Her form of coping was making sure her dad would be alright. She didn't have time for crying when it was late into the night. She only cried a few times and then she would purposefully remember to forget.
It's always easier when you choose to remember to forget.
And her father has apologized before for what he put her through, but every single time he has brought it up she deflects. She says it's not your fault dad. It's her killer's fault, not ours.
That if it hadn't been for the man who killed her mother we wouldn't be here today. We would be getting the turkey out of the oven and watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade, or rolling our eyes as mom makes us gather around the piano and sing on Christmas Eve, or watching as mom puts the wrapped gifts under the tree.
She has to tell her father that because she is trying to believe herself. Trying to make herself believe that if she was in that alley her mother wouldn't have been the only Jane Doe in the ME's office the next morning. But she can't believe. Because that's not how it happened. She wasn't there. Her mother died alone. No one was there.
And now that Beckett knows all about her mom's case, that it wasn't a random stabbing, she has made worse realizations that haunt her when sleep refuses to come. Beckett knows that the guy who stabbed her mother would never have waited to watch her mother take her last breath. He was a contract killer. A professional. Tailored for the job. He knew the single thrust and upward twist of the knife would be enough to kill her.
An unarmed woman who had a family. He didn't care. He was paid for his services like the animal control is paid. Paid to get rid of a pest. Paid to get rid of the little animal for scrounging into your business. And since he was so good at his job, he had to hide what he would consider to be his craftsmanship. Cover it up by some not so perfect stabs. Non-lethal stabs. Once his job was done, he had no reason to stay. He didn't need to admire his work. He'd seen this before, and he would see it again.
She pushes the image of her mother out of her mind because even from memory, it's a graphic scene.
She wants someone to tell her it's not her fault. That her pushing Castle away is somehow not her fault. She knows it is. But he's gone now. Has told her, that he is done. He won't watch her throw away her life. She wants to be with him but he doesn't understand. Tracking down her mother's killer is all she has ever known. She can't remember who she was before the devil knocked on her door. Who even remembers who they were over ten years ago? You may remember some memories but not everything.
One thing she does remember is who she was when she met Castle. She was lost. She was barely getting through the day. Working through most nights to help other people receive closure, because if she couldn't have some she might as well grant it to someone else. She was distant when she met Castle.
She had more than a few friends. But only a few who really mattered. Ryan, Espostio, and Lanie were her family. They called themselves the 12th Precinct Family. But they were family off of the force too.
Beckett remembers meeting a nine year old on a sugar rush, who never seemed to come down from the high. He wore the same obnoxious grin whenever she saw him. Commenting inappropriately at the worst possible times, sometimes leaving some of her sadness behind. He pushed her buttons, ones she didn't know she had.
Esposito and Ryan were the closest she ever had to brothers but they were not Castle-level annoying. He was in his own category. Some days she had wished she never met him.
He was ballsy enough to go behind her back and reopen her mother's case. She hated him for that. At the time, she thought Castle was doing it for his own selfish gains. To give his new character with a stripper name some depth. But, she learned in time, he was trying to help.
She learned in time that he was sweet.
She learned that the little blurb about him on the inside back cover of his books did not do him justice. It was a fluff piece, meant to make him look available and a somewhat loving father and son. And after she got to know him, she really started to dislike that she did what she never did with the books she read. She judged Castle based on his cover. She judged him based on what was written on his armor.
He didn't do that to her. She acted tough and had always used the loss of her mother to keep herself at a distance from everyone. Even herself. Castle saw that. And he did what she admired the most in him. He stayed. For four years he stayed.
Brought her coffee every day he saw her. He remembered the stupid little filler information she gave him about herself. Every small detail. And he made her open up. She never thought she would be telling Richard Castle about her mother's case. Never thought he would be the kind of guy to listen. To care. And she couldn't have been more wrong. For a detective, Beckett was not very observant of him.
There are other things Beckett remembers too. Meeting his family for the first time. The Castle's. Knocking on his door and almost speed walking to the stairs to be out of sight before someone answered. Not as a joke but because what the hell was she doing? She has never gone over to his house. But the case had thrown her, reminded her of her mom's case. But she stayed put. She waited for someone to open the door.
She thought he looked surprised to see her but she is certain her face was a lot more surprised than his. Holding a laser tag gun and dressed appropriately for the game, as he flashed with blue lights. Which she wouldn't admit to herself then, but was a nice compliment to his blue eyes. Not that she was looking at his eyes. And then came the rest of the family. A younger Castle with fire red hair and similar attire and an older Castle with the same red hair and a green face mask. And she thought it looked a little hectic in there, but fun. Yep, this was definitely the right apartment.
Above all of the things about him she remembers, she remembers his face. Not just his laugh and how the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle up and his ears move back slightly when he is wearing a genuine smile. Not how his eyes mimic the color of the sea. How they seem to reflect whatever color he is wearing. How they light up when he looks at her.
Beckett remembers the fear. The terrified look on his face when he was hovering over her on the blood stained grass. How she had never seen his eyes go from that normal blue to the darkest of greys. How he looked like such a sad, little boy. How his eyes had clouded and began to drip. She remembers him holding her, him wishing he could save her but not being able to do anything.
So he talked. And she remembers. Her heart cracking and being ripped, not from the bullet, but at the thought of losing him. Being unable to speak. Not getting to say goodbye. Unable to do anything but try to reach for him and fail. Her hand falling to the ground in the spreading puddle of her own blood. The puddle below staining her white gloves with crimson.
So she did the only thing she could. She watched. She stared at him trying to remember and sear into her brain all things Castle. And when she felt herself slipping further away she felt a tear glide down her face. She watched as his eyes did the same. Dropping down tears as if they were raindrops, mixing in with the blood he tried to stop flowing by pressing down where it continued escaping from the bullet wound. She remembers what she thought would be his last words to her. "Stay with me, I love you, I love you Kate".
And now as she tousles again with death she has to relive it all. She has more memories to recall and other ones that have faded away. And as each memory passes through her mind it seems that one more finger slips from its grasp. Slowly but so quickly, she's losing him. She always thought that being a cop she would take a bullet. That's what she told him when they were stuck in a freezer together. It's what she's thinking now as she dangles from a building looking down.
She's realizing her life wasn't enough. All she had were some old case files and an obsession to the thing that kept beating her down. She wanted more. She needed to be more. Her mother didn't die to make it easier for Kate to throw her own life away. Her mother died to show that you fight like hell to stay standing. Her mother didn't give up because things got difficult.
Like Montgomery told her, you find a place to make a stand and hope that somebody stands with you. She wanted to catch her mother's killer but she didn't want to make the stand anymore. At least not alone. She needed Castle. And if he wouldn't stand with her for this fight, then she would just have to stand with him for his.
A fight she knew he had already won. Her heart.
Beckett hoped Castle would be there for her one more time, to pull her up. But he wasn't. So she hung on with every ounce of strength she had left until he would be. Calling out his name, letting it flow through the wind, with the hope that her voice reached his ears.
Let me know what you think, it's appreciated. I'm hoping to keep this story going but I have a busy schedule so just check back every once in awhile for another chapter.
Thanks for reading.