Hello everyone! I know that I just updated my other story, 'Colder' and so you were expecting at least a week of silence from me...
Surprise!
This one just ambushed me - I had very little say in the matter - it just demanded to be written and wouldn't give me peace until I had it down on paper (so to speak).
There are spoilers for Knockdown here - but frankly - who on earth did not watch it nearly the instant it played?
When the sneakpeaks for this scene originally went up on youtube I was struck by two things; first, by the way the scene played out - there were so many layers to it - it was truly incredible and kudos go out to both Nathan and Stana for such an amazing job; second, the amount of people who were squeeing in delight in the comments section because she had called him 'Rick', since I had not interpreted her use of his first name at all as a good thing.
So I've been trying to get those thoughts and feelings into words - and here it is.
Disclaimer: You know it, I know it. Let's just try not to tip off the powers that be, shall we?
"Rick"
She wields his name like a weapon. She uses it like a four letter word. She uses it to keep him off balance, to stop him from getting in.
The man that she knows, the one that she really knows, that she's more afraid of letting in than she's ever been afraid of anything in her life, that man is not 'Rick'. 'Rick' is the playboy. He's the mayor's poker buddy. He's the rich and famous author. 'Rick' is the man who belongs to the rest of the world.
She thinks back to the first case they had ever worked together. It was the only time she had ever called him by that name. She remembers how she had hidden her disappointment in the man who wrote the words that had pulled her out of her own personal hell behind a mask of annoyance.
"Why are you here? You don't care about the victim, so you aren't here for justice. You don't care that the guy's aping your books, so you're not here because you're outraged. So what is it, Rick? Are you here to annoy me?"
She had genuinely wanted to hear his answer – had hoped that he would somehow redeem himself in her eyes. She had desperately wished that somehow, his next words would show her that there was more to the man sitting across the table from her than Page Six and his bimbettes and celebutantes.
When he had answered her, she realised that the man across the table could be dangerous. Very dangerous.
"Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart, good looking women become lawyers, not cops. And yet, here you are. Why?"
"I don't know, Rick. You're the novelist, you tell me."
She had goaded him. Pushed his buttons. She had been trying to unbalance him as much as he had unbalanced her. When he basically retold her life story, when he had looked straight into her eyes and laid her soul bare right there in the interrogation room, she knew that she would have to be on her guard around him. Always.
'Rick'
The name always sounded harsh when she used it. The final syllable bitten off like breaking glass.
As they continued to work together, she came to realise that, just as she wore a mask to protect herself from the world, from the harsh reality that the people she loved tended to leave her, that he too hid behind a mask. 'Rick' was the mask. 'Castle' was the man.
What scared her the most though, was how willing he was to take that mask off for her. The things that she glimpsed in his eyes when they were alone, when no one was looking, they scared her more than that bullet that had been meant for her.
She could date other men. They were safe. They never tried to take the mask off. They were always content in the knowledge that what Kate showed them was all that there was to see. Castle though, he saw more, demanded more. But she knew that if she let him in, that her darkness would consume him too. It was a price that she wasn't willing to pay.
That afternoon, when he had come to her apartment, she knew. She knew that she had to push him away before he fell down the rabbit hole with her. As much as she wanted him to stand by her, she couldn't take him away from his mother and his daughter. It didn't matter what happened to her – it did matter what happened to him. She would not make that phone call. Ever.
"I don't hang around you just to annoy you."
He had said, answering her question from so many years before.
"I don't ride out to murder scenes in the middle of the night to satisfy some morbid curiosity. If that was it I would have quit a long time ago."
"Well then why do you keep coming back, Rick?"
Echoes of that first case.
She saw it in his eyes as soon as the name left her mouth. It was like she had physically slammed the door in his face.
And that was when he did it. He did the one thing that she could never fight against. He took off his own mask. 'Rick' was gone. Standing before her was only the man, not the author, not the millionaire, not the New York City socialite.
She stood there, seeing the truth in his eyes. Listening to his words, and she knew. It was already too late. She couldn't save him from her darkness because he was already walking through it with her. He had been for a long time.
Sighing, she tried to make him see one last time, that being with her meant that there was the very real possibility that he could die one day, and that it would be her fault.
His eyes never left hers. His resolve never wavered.
For the first time in Katherine Beckett's life, she realised that she had already let him in.
"Ok, what have you got."
So this is meant to be a oneshot - but if you guys are interested, I might write a second chapter from Castle's perspective.
Please let me know what you think! Your reviews are like shiny double rainbows to my eyes! ;)