A/N : This is the first pairing/hurt I'm going to try out. Just try out. It should be noted that this story has been rewritten, deleted over eighteen times, and I chose not to upload this because I was never really confident to do it. Now, before I lose that courage to post it, here goes nothing.
It is also slightly based on one person I know.
Walk.
Walk in the rain.
It washes your pain.
Just walk in the rain.
And may your pain be slain.
Kate closed her eyes, and felt the tiny droplets of the rain fall upon her eyelids. The relief from the New York summer had finally arrived. But is the weight off her chest? She didn't know.
Castle knows. Those are the two words that has been haunting her for three days straight. She isn't able to eat, to sleep, to drink, to talk, or to work properly. She almost fell on the most important evidence, had Javi not stopped her before. She realized that she was no longer who she is, unless she got that clarified. Does Castle know? And if he does, then what next?
The rain increased in intensity. The water slips through an opening in the raincoat and finds a wound on her chest.
Castle knows. And there is nothing she could do about it.
She opened her eyes, unable to think straight. Everywhere, she could only see Castle, looking at her as though she had betrayed him. The postman, the constable, the traffic lamp, the tree, the potato salad. Everywhere, and everything, was Castle.
She walked.
Moving towards the unknown.
Richard looked at the ceiling of his roof for an extended period of time. Despite the fact that the newest episode of Doctor Who was running on television, his mind was not distracted and was only focused onto the orange shade of the ceiling. Only the orange shade.
Beckett knew. She knew all this while. She'd been lying to him, hiding it away from him, and for what? To wait till she can clear her problems with her mother's case? Heck, what if he got killed in the process? Only then would she realize what he has been going through?
Beckett knew. Those two words have traumatized him more than finding out that his mother slept with his first publisher. And that's saying something.
"Richard, darling. Why don't you go out? Take a walk. Get your mind cleared off this -"
"How can I mother?" Richard shot up. He stood, and looked intently at his mother. "She has been lying to me, for the past three months, and honestly, just tell me, how can I? You know how I feel. I finally admitted to how I feel. The worst part is... she knows too."
She knows.
Beckett knows.
Those two words again.
"Richard, get that head of yours out there, and just think clearly. This is not one of your books where you can reason out each and every move taken by a, a serial killer or a detective or a what not. This is you, and only you. Sitting in a room, brooding about it for days and avoiding the one you love is not going to help you."
"Mothe-"
"Richard Alexander Rogers, I demand you get out of this apartment, NOW."
Never has Martha been this furious. Richard knew that his obstinate mother would no longer bend to his will. He grabbed an umbrella and stepped out. It looked like it was going to rain.
This skin has felt many a feeling
but rain, always has a special meaning.
Walk in the rain, and you shall know,
that what you need, before.
Walk.
Walk in the rain.
The rain started lashing heavily. The hood wasn't doing any good. Water seeped in from all edges of the hood, slowly making her hair wet, and soon enough, she felt it on her scalp. She realized how useless the hood was, and wondered why she still held on to it. She opened it out, and truly felt the force of the million raindrops thrashing her at once. It was an amazing feeling, and one had to be a robot to not sense it. Kate thought for long that she was one, but as it turned out. She wasn't.
Was the hood a metaphor that the universe was sending her? Does the universe really care?
The water felt good. It felt really, really good. However painful it seemed, it just felt good.
She noticed a pinwheel that was stuck in a tree, and proceeded to remove it from the bark. The paper was dripping with water, yet, the writing on it, still made sense.
Through war or through peace,
Through walls or through ditches,
Through sun or through rain,
Through blizzards or through hail,
My love for you is undying, and shall always live.
Kate realized she was actually crying after reading this. The rain was so heavy, it didn't even hit her that she was tearing up inside. Her heart rate quickened, and her blood rushed everywhere. It was as though her body was trying to compel the brain to do it.
To do what?
What was there left to do?
Was she expecting herself to knock on Castle's door, and just say, "I'm sorry." and they would soon be in a frenzy of passionate kisses?
She asked herself, Am I really that delusional?
What she did was unacceptable. She shouldn't have kept Castle waiting. She should have told him immediately.
Told him what?
"Never, ever, ever, ever, EVER bring an umbrella when there is a storm." Castle muttered to himself.
HE struggled to hold on to the umbrella, tried to prevent it from backlashing. He liked this umbrella, and he didn't want to let go.
Didn't want to let go.
He didn't want to let go.
Let go of what?
What was there to let go?
Love is compromised when it isn't reciprocated. It is not love. It is just, madness.
If she hasn't told him yet, then doesn't it mean that she doesn't love him? IS she trying to go away? Is this her idea of a signal to tell him, Get off my life.
Wait a minute.
It all made sense now.
It wasn't just that she wasn't ready.
She wasn't ready to tell him, that she doesn't like him.
It was obvious.
It was very much obvious.
It was staring at him right in the eye.
Oh how delusional have you been Ricky, he told himself.
A strong gush of wind went past him.
No. That cannot be. A woman like Beckett? She wouldn't have told him immediately if she didn't like him. He realized there was only one easy way to let him know an answer. "What would have Nikki Heat done?"
Yes, he is just a creation, a fictional adaptation of Beckett, but he knew, that hearts of hearts, that, it wasn't just Beckett. It was the Beckett he loved.
What would have Nikki Heat done, indeed.
Another gush of wind.
It was interesting idea to ponder about. Who had he really fallen in love with. Nikki, or Kate? Was it the uncomplicated, smart detective who had sex with him in the first book? OR was it the person with all the imperfections and the complications and everything, who is forever in denial.
HE chuckled to himself. Who was he kidding?
Beckett.
Another gush of wind, and the umbrella flew away.
Beckett would have said...
"Yes."
The word seemed so foreign to her now. She realized that she rarely used it with complete understanding. What did Yes actually mean?
And to what?
Yes, I hate you Richard?
Oh, no.
She stopped.
Her eyes flared wide, as she slowly realized what had happened.
It's Richard now. Not Castle.
The rain pattered all over, so the noise of the outside word was completely cancelled out. Her mind was starting to feel distorted.
She told herself the blasted word again. "Yes."
She repeated the word a few more times.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Yes. Of course yes.
Yes.
She looked like a madcap. Who else would stand in the rain, with the hood off, and repeat a word so many times?
Yes.
Beckett knew her answer.
She slowly continued to walk again, and was suddenly interrupted by a runaway umbrella.
Richard didn't bother chasing after the umbrella. It just got out of the vicinity because of the heavy mists of the rain, and well, he was drenched already, with or without the umbrella.
Yes.
She would have said yes.
That's why she was hiding it.
She was unable to confront that feeling herself, because, well, she is complicated.
And that's why I love her, Richard told himself. That's why I love Kate.
It was that complication of hers. She always had to overthink. She could never let go off the past. She could never, ever, ever let go.
But now, she has to.
Because he, is going to march to that precinct, and tell her, without any sniper interrupting him, that he loves her, with all her complexities.
That's why I love her.
He marched on for a twenty three more steps, and he found someone examining an umbrella. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was his umbrella. Someone found it.
He ran towards the shady figure.
It was obvious. She didn't want to face that. But this... this feeling of saying yes... it felt good.
She looked back at all the times she could have possibly caused trauma to Ric- Castle.
No, what the hell.
She knew it.
She knows.
She knows what she really feels.
She took the runaway umbrella and looked at it.
She loves him, and there was nothing more to it.
She saw someone approaching her, and guessed that it was the owner of the umbrella.
"Hi, could I have my umbrella back?"
The man looked with disbelief.
"You don't believe me. Okay, it says Property Of Richard Castle, right under the plug there, see?"
The man looked.
"I don't believe it. You're saying that you are Richard Castle?"
"Yes I am, now please, give it to me. I am about to do one thing that might change my life forever."
"Nah. Screw it. I'm keeping this."
Castle flipped the bird after the man disappeared into the alley perpendicular to the road he was in.
Didn't matter.
He ran towards the precinct.
The person continued approaching her, and suddenly fell.
"Oh my god, are you alright?"
The woman who fell had no bruises, no signs of damage, nothing. She woke up slowly and muttered a few words which were incomprehensible.
"Are you okay?"
The woman showed the OK symbol in return.
Kate then smiled, and helped her to a shelter nearby. She then said Bye and proceeded along the street.
She looked at the umbrella one more time.
Property Of Richard Castle.
She immediately ran to the Precinct. Cas- Richard must be there.
"I'm sorry."
Richard looked happy as ever. Beckett finally got the weight off her mind.
"I'm sorry too."
Richard signaled the exit to the precinct.
They shared her coat as they made it out into the rain.
They walked.
In the rain.
With all their pains,
washed away.
And that's the end of the story.
Don't ask me what made me write this. I wrote this first when I was extremely depressed, maybe not about love, and today, well, I felt a similar wave of depression. This story was hidden in the depths of my laptop, and I dug it out, finished it, once and for all, and posted it.
So, there we go.
Please review if you liked it :|