(A/N This is another 1-shot that hit me at work last night. When inspiration strikes, just roll with it. It hasn't been betaed, so all mistakes are mine.
To guest reviewers: I moderate my reviews. So if you decide to be a giant dick, I WILL delete your review. You can not like something, and still be civil with a review. If you're going to try and troll for the sake of trolling, then take a hike. You're not welcome here.
*WARNING* Language ahead. This isn't meant to be cheery, so if you're offended by strong language, stop reading now & find some MLP fanfics.)
Jim Beckett looked over in surprise, as his phone started ringing. The name that appeared on the caller ID wasn't one he usually saw. He frowned, as he picked up the device and hit the green button. "Martha! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The voice on the other end sounded tight and nasally, as if the woman was trying to hold back tears. "James, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I didn't know where else to turn." The last of the sentence was almost unintelligible, as Martha broke down and began crying.
"It's okay, Martha," he said. "It's fine. You never need to apologize for calling me, no matter what the hour. And please, call me Jim. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"
"It's Richard," she finally managed to choke out. "He left a while ago, after screaming at me and Alexis. I'm scared for him, Jim. I'm scared of what he'll do to himself, or what might happen to him. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but could you talk to him?"
"Do you know where he is?" Jim asked, as he shrugged I to his jacket and grabbed his car keys.
"I asked Katherine's detective friends to track his phone. He's at The Old Haunt," was the reply.
Jim sighed. Of course Rick would be at the one place Jim got apprehensive about entering. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he said. "Don't you or Alexis worry about a thing. I'll take care of Rick."
"Thank you, Jim," Martha said. "Please call me when you have some news." Before Jim could reply, she hung up.
Jim blinked a few times, as he entered the bar. The lights were off, but enough was coming in the windows for him to see Castle sitting at the bar. From the look of things, he'd been drinking for a while. "Rick," he said, as he walked toward the writer.
Castle looked up, squinting his eyes at the light. "Jim," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "Jim, Jim, Jimmy Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim. Pull up a chair."
"We need to talk, Rick," said Jim gently, as he walked over.
"Bartender!" cried Castle, to the empty bar. "A drink for my friend." Castle turned to Jim. "Are you good enough to drink with me?" he asked, as he filled a shot glass with scotch, and raised it in the air. "A toast!"
"What are we drinking to?" asked Jim, as he sat down.
"To arrogant, immature, playboy millionaires who can't keep their noses out of affairs that don't concern them!" said Castle, as he downed his shot and slammed the glass on the counter. Jim watched as he reached for the bottle to refill the shot glass. Castle's hand was shaking.
"Rick…" he said gently.
Castle raised the glass. "To Richard Castle, the arrogant bastard who unleashed the wolves on an innocent woman!" he cried, as he downed the alcohol.
"Rick…" said Jim again.
Castle refilled the glass, stood up, and faced the empty bar. "To jerks that think they know better, and get the people they love killed!" he cried, as he downed the shot. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.
"Rick, I think you've had enough," said Jim softly, as he gently took the glass from Castle and set it down on the bar. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"Hit me," said Castle.
"What?"
"Hit me!" cried Castle, as he faced Jim. "Fucking punch me!"
"I'm not going to hit you," said Jim. "Why would I do that?"
"BECAUSE IT'S MY FAULT!" Castle screamed, as tears cascaded down his cheeks. "I got her shot, Jim! Me! I wasn't fast enough to save her!"
"Rick, what happened to Katie wasn't your fault, no matter what anyone says," said Jim. "You can't blame yourself for that."
"THE HELL I CAN'T!" yelled Castle, his voice breaking. "If I hadn't stuck my nose where it didn't belong, she'd still be safe at home, not in the hospital on life support!"
Jim sighed. "Rick, trust me when I say that drinking won't change anything. All it'll do is make you what I was: an alcoholic, who will drive away his family. And I know you don't want that."
Castle looked at Jim, and in that moment, Jim saw how much Castle blamed himself for what happened. Taking the initiative, Jim stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Rick in a tight hug. Castle broke down, and began sobbing. "Oh god, Jim! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" sobbed Castle.
"Sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh, it's all right, Rick," he said. "It wasn't your fault." After a few moments, Castle managed to get himself back under control. Jim leaned back. "Are you okay?"
Castle nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.
"Rick, you are the best thing that ever happened to my daughter," said Jim. "Ever since she met you, she's more outgoing, and happier. She talks about you almost all the time when we chat. This shooting isn't your fault. Okay?"
Castle nodded. Jim smiled, and stood up. "What say we get out of here? Grab a bite to eat?"
"Cheeseburgers at Remy's?" asked Castle, with a hopeful look.
Jim laughed. "Sure. My treat."
Castle smiled and stood up. "Race you!" he cried, as he ran out the door. Jim laughed, and ran after Castle, not once looking back at the darkness that had nearly swallowed the man his daughter loved.