stendhal
"See you in the fall."
It had been an off-hand comment. He didn't know if he meant it. Three months is a long time. He might be able to get his life back in order. To unscramble himself from his schoolboy crush that could've been more. No. It was only a crush. Just a fascination with the unattainable. Nothing more, Rick, nothing more.
XXXX
His summer is incredible. Gorgeous beach, beautiful woman, wonderful bed.
Castle manages to catch up on his deadline for Naked Heat. Praise and incentive from Gina definitely helped.
He had his off days, of course. When writing Nikki dragged him to a dark place of want and loneliness. He fought through and pushed it away, hid it deep within. He missed the boys and the cases and the problem-solving. Castle started watching cop shows. And calling out the blatant disregard for actual police protocol.
By the end of summer he had successfully buried any feelings regarding the precinct. He didn't notice it, but he had gone 8 whole days without a thought of any of his friends from the 12th.
XXXX
When he returned to the city in the fall, Gina came over for dinner more often. Their relationship was improving. He forgot why they even divorced.
Well, no, he remembered. He very clearly remembered. But it was a non-issue now. Both had grown and matured since then, it seemed.
XXXX
Sometimes he noticed Martha watching him carefully. He didn't understand why. (A part of him knew.)
Alexis was happy he wasn't in danger anymore. They spent more time together, taking advantage of her years of high school before college.
But there was still the occasional day… when he could imagine what Martha must have looked like as a young woman, when he would glance up from his place at his desk and see Alexis watching him through the bookshelf walls. A worried look in her eyes and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Why was everyone worried?
XXXX
He missed a call from Maya Santori. He hadn't heard from her in a while. It was a shame he wasn't able to return her call until too late. She was dead now. He heard about it from one of his other art friends before he could call back.
XXXX
She was part of a counterfeiting ring. That would have been so cool! For research. Of course…
XXXX
Castle almost re-proposed to Gina. Almost. He thought about it. He even looked at some rings. It seemed wrong to give the old one back. Even if it was just collecting dust somewhere in the back of his safe…
But things went south. He couldn't pinpoint it.
Of course Martha could.
XXXX
The problems started when he was almost done with the first draft of Heat Rises. The day Alexis screamed at the breakfast table while reading the newspaper. Because a Detective Kate Beckett was shot yesterday by a sniper rifle at Captain Roy Montgomery's funeral.
Castle's heart seized at the news.
Martha and Alexis hovered for days, pushed him to reach out. But he was convinced that since she did not reach out when fall came and went, she must not care to see him.
Gina didn't understand his sudden change in demeanor. How could she? He wouldn't tell. Castle kept everything close to the vest.
The detective in critical condition became the other woman. It didn't matter that he hadn't had any semblance of contact in over a year. An underlying tension rolled in.
Gina spent less time in the loft. Castle spent more time holed up in his office, writing.
He casually scoured the newspaper for word on the outcome of the shooting, but he never found resolution.
A friend was dead. And another was gone.
He again buried any feeling that may have risen.
XXXX
The final nail in the coffin that was their relationship was hammered in after the Frozen Heat release. According to Martha.
Black Pawn did not offer Castle another 3-book deal. They left Nikki at a piano, playing sheet music and pondering her mother's scribbles between the notes.
He could hear Alexis conspiratorially whispering on the phone to Paige that Gina stopped the deal from going through, because she realized 'the other woman' was a fictional character. It was a last ditch effort that failed.
Castle knew that Alexis was paranoid. That Daddy could do no wrong in his little girl's eyes. But it still planted a feeling of resentment within him.
He became a recluse, only going out to public social events when contractually obligated.
Or when his mother and daughter dragged him out of the loft.
XXXX
Alexis chose to attend Columbia University. He couldn't help but think it was because she thought he couldn't take care of himself. She said it was because she was not ready.
But he knew.
Dad was depressed, and even worse, blocked.
XXXX
"You're mourning a woman who didn't even die!" Tears stream down her face.
He's speechless. Eyes wide open and mouth unable to form words.
"I want my dad back!" The door slams.
He's alone.
XXXX
Poker night with his Gotham City crew was cancelled. One author was on a book tour, another had a surge of inspiration, and the other was in LA negotiating a movie deal.
Castle sits in his loft finishing off the bottle of tequila with his mother.
Wow, that sounds pathetic. Especially since she was drinking him under the table.
"How's Alexis doing?"
"Well, I s'ppose. Studying for finals now, I believe. Oh! She dumped that Pi boy the other day."
"Good. I never liked him." He downs another shot.
Martha swats his arm. "Oh, Richard, you never even met the boy."
"No, but I could tell. A father can tell these things."
"Of course, darling." She rolls her eyes and licks the salt off her hand, grabs for her next shot.
"I'm going to restart the Heat series," he says out of the blue.
"What?" She chokes on the lime, coughs up the acidic juice.
He looks at her, completely overlooking her heaving, "I already have some scenes and ideas written down. Nikki needs to find out her mother's secrets. She needs a proper end. I can't just – "
"But you don't have a contract, Richard."
"No… but once I have the manuscript done, Black Pawn can't turn me down. The readers will want this."
"And if Black Pawn doesn't?"
"Then I'll self-publish with another company. Or I'll just post it on the internet. Her story needs to be told."
"That sounds like those online fictional fan writings Alexis told me about."
"It's not fan fiction, Mother. Whatever I say is canon. I'm the creator."
"Well, I'll stand behind you 100%." She raises her shot glass.
They toast.
XXXX
Black Pawn accepts the finished manuscript. Gina was promoted. Castle was assigned a new publisher. At least now there will be no romantic entanglements to distract him. Though the woman keeps side-eyeing him… Oh. No, she was just excited because his books helped her get through high school.
God, when did he get so old?
XXXX
"Oh, Richard darling. Remember to get a new tux. We're going to a party next Saturday."
"What party? And 'we'?"
"The Mayor's Ball –"
"Wait, how did you get an invitation?"
"It's your invitation. Didn't I tell you? It came in yesterday. Very official looking. I couldn't help myself, so I opened it."
"And now you're making yourself my date?"
"I'm glad we're on the same page." With a smile, Martha pats his arm and exits the room.
XXXX
He didn't think to check who would be attending this ball. Or for whom the ball was raising charity funds.
XXXX
Alexis teased Castle for his date. Martha was gorgeous in her gown. A dark blue, to match his tie.
"I'm a catch, darling." She swatted her granddaughter playfully.
"You're stunning, Grams."
"A real knock-out. Come on, Mother. We're going to be late." Castle kissed his daughter's forehead as he made his way out of the loft.
Alexis gave him a pointed look. "I want her home by a reasonable hour, young man."
They laughed together.
XXXX
Mayor Robert Weldon had had a soft spot for the NYPD Widows' and Children's Fund ever since his name was cleared of any embezzling charges two years ago.
XXXX
Martha's grey-dar has her off Castle's arm within 5 minutes. Another 20 minutes, and sure enough, she's the center of attention for a group of men.
Castle walks the floor. He watches the people around him, observes them and their story.
A large party such as this creates such intimacy. And anonymity. The rise and fall of conversation mingling with the string quartet in the background keep him company.
XXXX
Somewhere in the middle of it all he hears a familiar cadence.
No... his mind must be playing tricks on him.
But that laugh…. He tilts his head, concentrates.
There it is again.
But where is it coming from? He looks around, but he can't find the source.
No, it has to be a cruel trick of the imagination. It can't be who he thinks it is. Not her. Not her. Not –
Her.
She is standing not twenty feet away from him. Her back is turned to him, but he can just tell it is her.
Sun warmed skin glowing by the light of the crystal chandeliers. Her honeyed hair. (When did her hair get so light? So long?) The jut of her scapulae. The proud confident set of her shoulders. Her laugh bubbles like champagne. He knows it is her.
Kate.
She makes conversation with a small group of men. He can recognize Ryan and Esposito, but who is the other? His feet carry him towards her. The unsolvable mystery drawing him in.
She is alive.
Alive.
And that thought stops him. He is frozen in the bustling crowd. Kate Beckett didn't die.
He feels light-headed, rocks dangerously forward. (Did he eat today?)
She reaches out next to her to grab Ryan's forearm, to emphasize some part of her story. Her profile reveals to him the glint of excitement in her eyes, her shining smile. And it's a punch to the gut.
And, somehow, a breath of fresh air.
She throws her head back in a laugh. And he wants to be by her side again, but he's stuck. Why can't he move forward?
Esposito taps her opposite arm and points to Castle. Ryan and Kate both turn their heads, she still gripping his arm. And somehow - somehow - her smile grows brighter. For Castle.
His breath catches in his throat. Where is his heart? Why is it not thundering?
There she is. Pounding.
She lets go of Ryan's arm and turns completely to face him. Her dress swishes around her with the movement. She drinks in the sight of him. Disbelieving.
She's gorgeous. Beautiful. Extraordinary. The words rush through him, flooding him, overwhelming his senses… and suddenly stop. All thoughts disappear.
Everything at a standstill. They're alone in the room.
The voices are gone.
The muffled vibration of sound pushes in. Blurry. Lights too bright. He feels dissociated from his body.
Her smile slowly slips down in worry, confusion. Why, Kate?
The whole room tilts.
Unknown hands grab at him. Slipping. Brushing at his sleeves.
"Cas - !"
The ceiling is intricate.
Thud to his hip. Shoulder. Temple.
Swallowed by black. He is lost to the world.
Stendhal's Syndrome: psychosomatic illness that may occur when confronted with immense beauty in the natural world or an experience of great personal significance; symptoms include rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion and even hallucinations; the syndrome is named for the 19th century French author, Stendhal, who experienced the phenomenon when he first viewed the Florentine frescoes.
