Over the River
Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own Castle.
A/N: This is an alternate universe/speculation fic for episodes 19 through 23 of season four. I already have a piece written for episode 19, but due to my tight schedule and a very busy beta reader I wasn't able to post the rest of that chapter today. That chapter will hopefully be posted tomorrow, but I expect it will deviate quite a bit from the episode that aires this evening. That said, we begin with a short prologue.
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For CuffedBunnies, as always.
Castle has always enjoyed watching her work, and he'd be the first to admit that. Of course, normally his preferred position was to be in there with her. But, even he has to admit that there something spectacular about occasionally getting the opportunity to simply stand back and watch Kate Beckett work.
And the truth was, in there alone and uninterrupted she was tearing the kid apart. He watched as she managed to get the kid pretty frazzled, though it didn't lead to anything like a confession. But today, she was at her most relentless, and he highly approved. Under the circumstances, they needed this kid to crack so that they could stop whatever he has planned next.
But then, suddenly his partner said something he never planned on hearing. Without any real thought or his consent he finds himself whispering "you remembered?"
Castle was stunned, numb, and half deaf from the blood rushing in his ears. If he was willing to be completely honest with himself, he have to admit that he had always somewhat suspected that Kate remembered more than she said. But hearing her admit it, after spending so long trying to convince himself that she simply wasn't capable of that kind of deception was more than he could process.
Barely even aware what he was doing, he found himself edging backwards towards the door of the observation room. His hand was on the doorknob, and he was already working his way out of the room before she had even moved fully from her previous position. From there, he didn't remember much of what happened until he reached the elevator.
He had managed to get into the elevator, half leaning, half collapsing against the back of the elevator car before he realized that she was there. Somehow, during his retreat she had managed to make her way to her desk. She was slipping into her coat when she turned around and saw him as the doors began to close. He could only imagine the expression on his face from seeing the look on hers. It was unlike any he had seen on her before.
Later he would wonder if she knew what he had heard. But for now, all he could do was lean toward the opening of the doors as it diminished. He had no choice. He had to see her. Because some broken part of him was convinced this might be the last time.