Disclaimer: If I owned Castle that is not how her secret would have come out.
But I have reserved the right to make amends of it because it will take a few weeks too long on the show.
Now, this is a little different from MOST post-47Seconds fics I have been reading so be sure to let me know what you think.
"Dad," she pleads.
He has to close his eyes, steeling himself against his daughter's knowing eyes, her understanding and that damn wisdom that has to be some kind of genetic mutation – it doesn't come from her mother or his, and it's certainly not his own.
"You have to talk to her."
Why he'd told the girl what was going on escapes him, but she does have a right to know.
She was right.
All along, she was right.
Though the way she's curled herself against his side, let him hug her against his chest, tells him she's not about to launch into I-told-you-sos.
She's too wise for her own good.
"There is no point. It was pretty clear." He finally answers her and realises they'd both settled into the silence, like they're both mourning this.
"Call her or I will."
He finally flicks his eyes down to his daughter.
The way she lifts a brow, just slightly has him roll his eyes and tug her closer.
"Maybe later."
"No Dad, no maybe and no later. Do it."
"Don't feed me that crap," her voice cuts through the phone.
He can't even remember what he said that had her bite back, fend for herself, stand up against him.
She called and now he doesn't know why. Alexis told him to call. But he couldn't.
He finally stood his ground in this thing they've got.
They had, he forces the amendment. Though he never really had her to begin with.
But he'd thought he was close.
So close.
He'd stared at the stupid device while it buzzed across his desk. She was right in front of him, her rejection right in front of him, taunting him with her smiling face.
But he'd picked up.
He was supposed to wait until there was a case. That was the resolve he'd built as he'd travelled down the elevator.
But Alexis had…
He's furious at himself for needing her - his partner who lied.
She remembers everything.
How could she not tell him?
How could she string him along for so long?
How could she give him false hope?
The lingering looks and everything he thought had subtext, a substance she couldn't yet vocalise, couldn't say.
But she wasn't talking riddles, giving meaningful looks.
She was keeping him at a distance because she knew that he loved her and she knew how she didn't.
"I have to go," he offers, too blinded by how much he needs her and how much she doesn't need him.
He hangs up the phone.
She doesn't need him.
He can't listen to her say it.
She doesn't love him.
He can't have her reject him.
So he stares at his blotter, the phone limp in his hand.
None of it matters, she doesn't love him.
And worst of all, she can't admit she knows how he feels.
Alexis gives half a knock, it's more a bump as she touches a knuckle to the door of his study, then skimming it along the width, entering without invitation, without prompt. "Dad?"
She's checking on him.
"Hey Pumpkin." He tries and fails to sound even remotely cheerful.
"You spoke to Kate…" she says softly, knowing (again).
He scoffs. "Yeah." He realises the bittersweet smile that's gracing his lips is understanding, acknowledgement – he's trying not to cry.
His daughter stays silent and he doesn't look up at her, she's giving him a minute. They both know it.
She did this when he told her about divorcing her mother. She was so small she still fit in the crook of one arm, but his little girl had just rest her head against his shoulder, hand on his chest and bit her lip as she gathered herself together. His voice had hitched as he reminded her about how mummy didn't live with them anymore and that she wasn't going to. And she'd given him a moment.
The girl who'd still sung her ABC's in the bathtub had given him a minute, she'd known.
He wants to force her back onto his lap, assure her that they'll be okay after this.
But he can't.
Kate was never here.
Kate never actually left him.
He never had her.
He'd been thinking they were so close for so long that it seems like his daughter understands.
Maybe she understands too much, so much more than she ever did when he explained to her it would just be them from now on.
How wrong he'd been.
"Me too."
How wrong he is.
He finally lifts his eyes from the blotter he's been staring at for who-knows-how-long.
She's been gathering her thoughts, trying to force the words from her mouth.
She intervened.
His daughter called his partner, this woman he loves so much, to-
"She called me after you hung up on her."
He sighs. "Alexis… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump this all on you."
He wants to add an 'again', but he can't bring himself to manage it.
He owes her an apology.
But his daughter is already crossing the room. "Gram told me anyway. She said I needed to know."
"She shouldn't have told you. You don't need to worry about this…" His daughter burdened by his issues is not something that should ever have occurred, but she's here now. His mother out for the evening doing some performance or class or dinner date or who knows…
"Too late." She perches herself on the corner of his desk.
He huffs and draws his chair closer to her, just needing the proximity. "I'll be fine."
He doesn't believe himself so it doesn't exactly come as a surprise when she doesn't believe him either. "Dad… She had a lot to say. She didn't know you were…" the falter in his daughter's voice has him reaching for her knee, not even she can say it. "She didn't know you heard her. She didn't want that to be how you found out she could remember. She told me I had to tell you that much. I had to get you to talk to her again."
He has to force his tongue to obey, to rise and fall and let him form words, let him speak.
"What?" he manages. "Why did you… Alexis." His chastise falls flat, it's more a plead that she's lying. She told his partner he knew that she knew.
"You wouldn't have. I'm not going to let you lie to her about her lying to you. Dad, that's insane."
He runs a hand through his hair. "It's not a lie…"
"It is. It's lying by omission. You said she lied by not telling you and then you plan to do the same thing." He hears the ragged breath his daughter lets out. "You can't do that. Don't be a hypocrite." She hasn't raised her voice, but she has that deathly calm tone that tells him, she's more than mad.
He knows she's right though.
"I know," he manages.
"So don't lie to her."
When his daughter slips back onto the floor he's confused. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to get a drink. You two are going to talk."
"I was an arse Alexis, I can't call her-"
"You don't need to."
His stomach drops. "What did you-"
"Kate!"
Her stomach drops and her body goes rigid at Alexis' beckoning.
She has to talk to him.
She has to explain it to him.
She heard him and she didn't tell him.
She told a suspect in an interrogation room and he heard her.
"Are you coming or what?" The flash of red hair popping out of the doorway catches her attention. The hand on the frame the other flicking a finger at her, trying to draw her closer are a close second.
Yes.
She's coming.
She is.
But she can't move.
The banister of the stairs at her back just hold too much of an appeal.
He needs her to move.
So she tries.
So much dread coursing through her that her body is too heavy.
She manages to nod and take a step, flick her eyes to the floor, just for half a second.
To dodge the knowing look in his daughter's eyes.
She's so astute it is admirable – she wishes she'd been like that at her age.
Hell, she wishes she could be like that now.
But instead she's staring at her socked feet as they curl on the wood floor.
She hears the girl huff. "We talked about this. Get in there and tell him what you told me."
That's not hard, she can do that.
"I…" she starts, ends up swallowing.
She can.
"I will call Lanie."
Damn it.
Now she understands, at least partly, why Castle detests the girl working with the other woman.
They will form a united front here.
But she can't move.
She can't even breathe.
"Don't," he manages and his daughter turns back to face him, eyes coy as she realises he heard her threat to his muse, his partner.
She'd forgotten he was there.
She nods to him and turns back away, stepping around the frame out of sight, not even visible through the gaps in his bookshelf.
She's left him alone while she talks to this woman he loves too much.
She's got to coax her in here to break his heart.
It's cruel.
But he still needs to know what's happening.
But he's done enough.
He's taken enough steps for this woman.
And she lied.
She didn't tell him she knew he loved her.
She didn't put him out of his misery and give him a chance to get over her while she hid away for the summer, from him and his confession.
But he hears footfalls on the stairs, quick and hurried, and then he sees the movement of jeans against the bookshelf, his daughter coming to get him.
He needs to chase her, again.
But he can't.
He presses the heels of his palms into his hands when he hears his daughter enter the room again.
"I can't do this again, Alexis. I can't chase her again." He huffs out the breath.
The hitch in her throat shocks him. "I didn't run."
I'm open to continuing this one if you guys want me to.
Let me know : )