Prompt: The Limey episode. Castle walks in on Beckett talking about him to Lanie. He hears that Lanie knows that Beckett heard him. He's upset and let's out his frustration, walks out and Beckett chases after him.

Disclaimer: You will know when I own Castle, trust me.

This will be a two-shot most likely, three-shot at most.

First time trying out a prompt. Thank you for reading.

Beckett was upset, antsy, bummed out, heartbroken whatever word you wanted to assemble to explain the ache in her chest and the swarm of butterflies finding refuge in the pit of her stomach, never taking a moment to cease and breath. The movement is making her nauseous, squeamish.

She's sitting here focused on the cup of coffee in front of her when she should be listening to Lanie. Taking her finger to circle the rim of her cup, she hasn't been able to finish the drink, the bitter taste a reminder of how he's not here anymore. She wishes it would somehow take this ache inside away.

She should be doing plenty of things but she's not because Kate Beckett is silently moping about the missed chances she has caused herself and the self-pity party is starting to piss her off.

All of this because she was in love with someone who no longer wanted her.

"Beckett."

Her head snaps in the direction of the voice commanding her attention. She curses herself for having no idea what Lanie has been talking about because she has no cover now for being unfocused.

"Mmm."

"Girl, have you even heard a word I have said since you came down here?"

She can't help the eye roll because yes she has been distracted, but she was very much invested in the conversation before she lost track. "Of course, I have Lanie, stop being so dramatic."

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"No—"

"Don't even try it, now spill because I don't have all day here, and I'm tired of being in this morgue."

Lanie knows her well. Not as well as — no don't. He's not here anymore. The passing thought forms a lump in her throat, it hurts, causing her to forcibly blink back tears that are on the brink of falling. She will not cry. Not right now.

Lanie's soft voice ring loudly against the silence of the morgue, the echoing finding a place into her thoughts, "Is this about Castle?"

She musters up the courage to speak because if she doesn't, she's going to fall back into the Kate Beckett she has been trying to shed this past year.

"He's different, Lanie."

She curses herself for the crack in her voice, that he can do this to her, that she let him do this to her because she thought that she was working to get better for him, herself, them. She was trying, she is—was.

"Sweetie, he's just being Castle."

"No— no he's not. Something's off, and it's like— like — he's back to being the immature, self-centered, insufferable, egotistical jackass he was in the beginning."

She waves her hands around, trying to clear the air in front of her. Trying to understand what went wrong.

"Now he's flying to Vegas and hooking up with flight attendants."

"You know what he told me, Lanie?" Her voice quivering and she swallows down the emotions that are now threatening to spill out of her control once again, she will not cry. "She's fun and uncomplicated, and that's what he needs right now."

She can tell Lanie is thinking of how to approach this and she hates that it has even come to this point. Seriously hates that he's out solving cases with Slaughter and running around with flight attendants instead of waiting for her—them.

"You know, it feels like another repeat with Gina, and I'm sitting here getting my heart thrown back at me and I haven't even given it yet. I just—" I want my partner back.

"Do you know if you did anything to make him act this way?"

"I don't know, of course, or else we wouldn't be here talking about this, but I can't pinpoint anything I did. I don't know what I did Lanie," she can't help the break in her voice.

She lays her elbows on the table, the cold from the table, welcomed against the heat in her stomach, anything to put a stop to the broken pieces of her, she is not able to catch, covers her eyes with the palm of her hands.

"Have you told him?"

She can't muster the energy to pick up her head, choosing to keep her eyes locked against her hands. It's helping her keep in place, just for a second.

"Told him what?"

"That you know, that you heard what he said."

"No, no, not yet. I'm going — or I was going too — I just, I haven't been able to yet."

"Maybe, he thinks you don't feel the same or maybe he just isn't worth it, honey."

At that she snaps her head up, the surprise of what she's said must be written across her face because Lanie calls her out on it.

"Don't look at me like that. I love Castle, but you're my #1 priority, and maybe, he just can't let the playboy persona go — and I don't want to see him keep breaking your heart because he's a knuckle—"

Her sentence is interrupted by the swing of the morgue doors.

She knows it's him before he even steps through. She can feel it, and she already knows, she's going to regret everything they were just talking about. There isn't any other way for her to not feel it.

"Cas—"

"Don't," the sharpness in his voice loud and clear, the message clear, he heard everything. If there was any chance of saving their partnership before, it's gone now, and the twist in her chest has her gripping the edge of the table for leverage against the rapid beat of her heart. Kate Beckett will not lose her shit.

He laughs, the bitterness ringing across the room. Loud and clear against the apology that is already forming against her lips.

"Castle the bad guy huh?" He lifts his hand to run it through his hair, another bitter laugh escaping his lips, another piece of her breaking off along with it. She can sense Lanie tense against the other side of the table.

"Castle hurts Beckett, Castle this, Castle that, Castle broke Beckett's heart, Castle can't do anything right," his voice rising, she can see the vein in his neck pulsing as if with any sudden movement, and it's going to burst.

"But let me make this clear, this immature, self-centered, insufferable, egotistical, nine years old on a sugar rush jackass. Yeah, him, Beckett broke his heart. So none of you, the two of you—" his hands moving to gesture to Laine and her, she can see him trying to maintain the outpour of his anger. The cracks in his foundation, that she caused.

"...will stand here, as if — as if I am some jackass because I turned my back, for ten months that girl," aiming his hand in her direction "has looked me in my face and lied to me. Ten months she's stringed me along, pretending. So yes you're right, I moved forward because she gave me no other choice, and I'm done chasing someone who openly doesn't want me back."

She can see him struggle with his words as if it's tearing him apart.

Castle can't do it anymore. He's so tired of holding it all in, He's so irritated of fighting, just to have it smack him back in the face.

He's trying to hold back the resentment because he doesn't want to blame her, even when she's already knocked him down. He doesn't want to hurt her. He just wishes to flip the switch. To stop loving her today, tomorrow or right now would be good. If he continues like this, he will never get over her.

"Castle's an asshole, Castle left with his ex-wife, never mind that Beckett made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him at the time. Castle witnessed her dying in his arms, couldn't even get a text back as a sign of life for the sake of my sanity but yes you're right, everything is all on Castle," he takes a deep breath in. He's done, truly done.

"This time, though, you don't have to kick Castle out of your life, have such an egotistical jackass by your side. I'm done." The pressure of his chest is tightening, the blood vessels surrounding his heart, feel heavy. As if they're no longer able to hold the passageway for the blood flows he needs to survive.

He doesn't wait for their response, doesn't wait for her to respond. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't care. He's done, his very foundation shaken up and turn upside down, all because he didn't know how to let go.

He turns around to walk away, every step of his dignity being left for him to pick up along with the broken pieces of his heart, but he doesn't have the strength to do any of it, not anymore, and as the door shuts behind him, he's angry, mad at himself, the world, for never being enough and never understanding him.