I knew she wanted him instead of me. I think I knew that since the beginning. But she didn't know. She walked around, pretending our relationship had a chance of going somewhere. I can't blame her for dragging it on, because she didn't know her true feelings. Her stubbornness forced her to ignore coming to grips with the fact that deep down, way down in her heart, she wanted him more than me.

I knew all of this; I saw it in her eyes. But I was just as bad at her with accepting the truth. I forced myself to pretend that it was just the light in her eyes, nothing more. But as weeks dragged on, us pretending that it would work out and we actually had a decent future together, it got harder and harder to ignore the loud truth banging against my eardrums. Sooner or later people have to admit the inevitable facts.

After weeks of dating, I woke up one gloomy morning and just didn't have the energy. Didn't have the energy to fight off the inevitable truth. I stopped pretending. I just couldn't deal with ignoring it anymore. The way he made her smile. The way he made her laugh. The way her face brightened up with he walked into a room. The way her eyes looked distant when she was away from him and with me.

I tried to change it. I tried to change her feelings, which was pointless and near impossible. But I tried. I spent more time with her. I gave her everything she could possibly want, well, almost everything. Because after what seemed like years, which was probably only a couple weeks, I realized that there was only one thing she wanted. She wanted him.

The funny thing is, well, it wasn't particularly funny, just sad really, was that she saw none of this. She didn't realize that she liked him. She was still in the denial stage, living a fantasy that she doesn't want him and that she wants me. But I knew she had feelings for him, deep feelings that no one could get rid of. I saw it; I think we all saw it. All of us, except her.

After a nasty case, that ended up with me getting shot, I finally faced her with these facts. I had known it wasn't going to work and I stopped pretending it would, but I hadn't confronted her about it up until now. I was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital bed, while she was sitting in a chair pulled up next to it. My side hurt where the bullet landed, and I wanted to sleep. But I knew I wouldn't, I had things to deal with.

He had visited me and as he left I watched blankly as her eyes trailed after him. I let my gaze linger on her for a moment and then looked away. When I spoke I was surprised how calm my voice was. Maybe I was just too tired with it all, "You like him, Kate."

She turned her head to look at me, startled, "Who? Castle? No, I don't." She seemed to be genuinely surprised at my accusation, and maybe she was. The denial was kicking in, and I was tired of it.

"I'm not blind, Kate." And I wasn't. I had caught up with reality many, many weeks ago. But only had just started to accept it and stop trying to change it. I turned my head gave her a little smile after I spoke, a smile of regret that we could go nowhere.

"I don't like him. Why would I like him? He's like an undisciplined child." She gave a little laugh, trying to brush my comment off with the shake of her head. She would never accept liking him easily.

"We all see it, Kate. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. At first I was in denial of it all, but it's time to accept the fact that you don't want me. You want him. And nothing I or anyone else can do will change that." I told her, blinking back any hurt that might show through my eyes. I was hurt, but I could handle that, "I want you to be happy, Kate. And you can't be that with me."

"W-What are you getting at, Tom?" Her face dropped as she stuttered. A pained look grazed across her eyes and I hated telling her these things, but it was time for this hopeless relationship to come to an end.

"We can't go on like this. I'm sorry." And I was sorry. Sorry about the whole mess. Sorry of all the drama I caused when I entered her life. Sorry she would never have the same intense feelings for me as I had for her.

"But what about us?" She questioned, and I think she was on the verge of crying. I wanted to hold her and tell her I was just kidding and we could continue our pretend relationship, but I didn't. What I was doing was for the best, I had to believe that.

"There was never a real 'us'. There was a 'him'. I know you can't control your feelings, and I don't blame you. But he is the only one you really want to be with, and sooner or later you're going to have to accept that." The truth is always hard, but saying it is always worse. The pain from losing her was worse then the pain from getting shot.

"B-But, Tom..." She stuttered again, a tear falling down her cheek. I could see she was starting to come to grips with the fact that our relationship was coming to a close, due to her feelings for the adventurous writer boy.

"It's for the best." I told her, knowing it was. I cared for her, maybe even loved her, but the feelings could never be truly returned. I leaned over and gave her a small peck on the cheek. As I was leaning back, I whispered into her ear, "Goodbye, Kate."

She looked at me, her eyes full of pain. Then she slowly got up and walked over to the door. When she was nearly out of the room, she turned and gave me one long last look, full of pain and regret. It was probably similar to the one that was showing on my face. Her voice cracked when she spoke, "Goodbye, Tom." And then she was gone.

I sat there, in the hospital bed, alone. I knew it was for the best, but I couldn't help feeling a wave of sadness engulf me. I did love her, I know that, but I also know she could never love me. At least not the way I wanted her too. But maybe she will go to him now that we're through. Maybe she will seek comfort from him. Maybe she will admit she loves him.

And maybe, just maybe, she will find happiness from that undisciplined child.

I was inspired to write this when I was feeling angry at people who hate Detective Tom Demming. People seem to dislike him just because he interferes with their favorite ship. There are no words to describe how much that bothers me. Seriously, stop hating on a nice guy.

-TelevisionSlave