Watershed Conversations

Summary:

"I don't want to be only told about her choices. I want to be included on them. I would like to feel she considers me, considers us, when thinking about her future. What has been going through her mind?! To simply inform me 'oh, we are now on a long distance relationship?" Spoilers to Watershed Sneak Peeks! My take on a little scene that should happen on episode 5x24.

Disclaimer:

Don't own Castle.

Author's note:

Spoiler alert! So, this is supposed to happen between two scenes recently released as Watershed (5x24) Sneak Peeks, between the one when Castle finds Kate's boarding pass and the one when she calls him on his cell. It is a little conversation I can't get off of my mind, and I just had to find an outlet for all this agony until monday! Too sad this will be AU in no time... Anyway... certainly Marlow and all the other Castle writers will do a better job filling this gap I tried to fill with this fic. It was fun writing it anyway. It can be a one-shot or it can become a two-chapter, only, and if only, you like where this is going. I have a scene at the very well known swings that I can't stop thinking about too, so... Maybe I'll get it on paper (screen) before monday?!

Reviews and constructive criticism is more than welcome! Please consider two little things: 1. English is not my first language, so there might be mistakes and misusage. I want to improve and learn though. 2. This is my first fic! Not my first attempt of first fic, but definitely my first published fic.

Mothers Know Better.

He stormed into his apartment, slammed the door closed, fuming with anger, and started pacing around… He didn't even know why he was at home. He just ended up there, barely making a choice where to go after he left her standing on her kitchen. That damned apartment of hers… Was it him or all of their worst fights took place over there? ALL of their fights, to be exact! Maybe it was because of that beautiful, yet damned painting with the hat lady avoiding bombs. Maybe that's how she felt inside, always running away from bombs, both figurative and real bombs, but what the hell was she thinking when she hanged that picture on her living room, of all places, set a mood for what, doomsday?! Doomsday was always lurking around the corner for her, and maybe that is just her own fault for going after it by lying, chasing the worst of perps, lying…

Move… he needed to keep moving. His head was full of thoughts, full of anger, restless, anxious… He poured himself a dose of whisky, straight. Not his best, he couldn't spoiled the best he had available with such bad memories. How could she do that?! Again… Lying… Hasn't that made enough damage to their relationship? He was certain he learned his lesson and he thought she had done so as well.

Rage boiled inside of him. Richard Castle wasn't a violent kind of guy… Sure enough he may have blown a punch or two, tortured a little fella who had participated in his daughters kidnaping, but other than that, not much. But there was something calming in using all of your strength at something, lashing out, externalizing it and then letting your body calm down, have the adrenaline tone down a little.

Poor crystal glass never saw it coming. A little pressure and it was gone. Scratching his hand and making a mess. And he threw them, all little bits of it that there were left, onto his study wall.

He heard fast footsteps coming down the stairs. His mother appeared at his office door, looking worried and surprised. With a look at the wall, at the pieces of glass shattered on the floor, and at her son's bleeding hand, she turned away e left without saying a word.

Castle crashed down on his black leather armchair. Great! Nothing better than letting down a women then letting down two of them. He moved his uninjured hand through his hair and felt his other being gently pulled. Martha sat on the next armchair holding cotton balls, gauze, and some antiseptic solution on a little bottle. Mothers will be mothers, independently of their child's age.

"Oh Richard, what did this innocent glass did to you this time to make you this mad at it?"

"The innocent glass, not so much mother. The not-so-inocent detective, on the other hand…" He felt his hand sting from the remedy.

"Ah. Should have guessed. Only 'The Detective' can put you on object-throwing mode like this. What happened?"

"She… She went on an interview. Job interview. FBI."

"Wow, but that is great!"

"Not when it is in D.C. it isn't. Not when she traveled there and back without saying a word. Not when she lied about what she was doing this morning. After all we have been through… A year we've been together… And we've took down so many obstacles, and now we are succumbing to lies, again?!

She considers going to the interview, says nothing to me, comes back from said interview, and, still, nothing. Have I not found her boarding ticket I might have woken up one day to her packing up her things".

"Did she get the job?"

"No, not yet."

"If she gets it, does she intend to accept it?"

"If it wasn't appealing to her, the job position I mean, if she had no intention of saying yes in case she was chosen, I don't think she would have gone down there. But I… I have no idea."

"Then what, exactly, are you mad at?"

"Mother, really?"

"You don't think she would actually move without telling you so?!"

"I don't want to be only told about her choices. I want to be included on them. I would like to feel she considers me, considers us, when thinking about her future. If she accepts this job she is not just moving from one public office to another, she is saying yes to changing cities. What has been going through her mind?! To simply inform me 'oh, we are now on a long distance relationship?"

"And are you sure this annoyance of yours has nothing to do with the fact that the FBI probably wouldn't want a civil consultant/ best-selling author attached to her during cases? Are you sure this isn't maddening because it's the end of you playing pretend cop?"

"Haven't really began working on that topic yet."

"So think about it."

"It only contributes to my anger. Can't see how this helps anything."

"Would you give up being a pretend cop..."

"Assistant volunteer homicide detective." He tried to interrupted her, nonchalantly, but made no difference at all, since Martha continued as if nothing had happened.

"...if that was necessary to ensure you continue to be her boyfriend? Would you give up the job partnership for the personal one?"

"What is the problem with having both? That is exactly what she has here at the NYPD. We have done the impossible to keep Captain Gates from finding out about us. Just so that we could keep being partners. All kinds of partners. And now this? Now we have to chose!"

"Oh Richard... Writing your first best seller during college has done both good and bad to you. Honey, you have the career you have dreamed of since High School. You got to the top of it pretty early, and has been there ever since. You didn't have to give it up for family. You didn't have to give it up to follow her around even. Up until now you just added to your dreams, wants and needs. Sometimes it is necessary to leave somethings behind, so that you can guarantee others. Seems like loosing, but it is not necessarily. The path you decide to take might bring you so much more."

"What are you insinuating mother, let Kate go, give her up so that I can achieve more? So that she can achieve more?"

"No Richard. What I am insinuating is probably what Katherine has tried to insinuate and you, obviously, don't get it. Things are amazing for your relationship right now, just the way it is, right?! Is that reason not to want more?"

And seeing how her son's confused face didn't change, Martha continued "You've been following her around for 5 years. Five. Suddenly following her to D.C. is not an option?".

Sudden realizations came to him. Oh... Is that an option?

"She hasn't said anything about this... option."

"Have you two talked about this interview at all?"

"Barely...What if that is not an option for her? What if she didn't include me on her future plans, the making of them, because she doesn't want me there?"

"You know, a mother can answer only a number of questions kido!"

"What about Alexis? What about you?"

"What about me and Alexis?"

"Oh, is this a plan to get rid of me and have the loft all for yourselves?!"

"Oh Richard..." She smacked his arm "Seriously... You have been a wonderful parent to Alexis. But it gets to a moment when kids need to take care of their lives, on their own. Follow their own paths. Live their own love stories. This is true for Alexis, and this is true for me. I have followed my hart son, and you are living prof of it. We would both miss you terribly! But D.C. is a short plane ride away. A little increase in both allowances would definitely provide more than enough funds for us to visit you too!"

Castle couldn't help but chuckle. His mother might have many defects, but sometimes she knew just what to say. Between them, it has been like this since his teenage years. She would read him just like an open book, then she'd fill his mind with even more questions and even more things to consider. Last part was letting him make his choice. Something called Marta's Socratic Mothering Method.

And, like so many years ago, Martha got up, kissed him on his cheek, wished him a good night, and let him be.

He didn't know how many hours have passed from that moment until his phone rang.

"Castle."