Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, nor anything within the show. I leave the copyrights to their true owners. I do not work for anyone that works on, or airs, Castle. If requested I shall pull this story without hesitation.
My Thanks to the wonderful castletv (dot) net /chat friends I have including (but not limited to) Elizagoth, castlegirl, belle_lover, cookme25, AKT and Stephiesplzs for their inspiration and willingness to aid this author when she truly needed it. If I have forgotten someone, Whoopsie! My Bad! Totally not intentional!
Sitting in his semi-dark penthouse, Rick Castle sighed. It's late, I should go to bed. His laptop sat on his lap but the screen was still blank. His slippered feet were up on the desk while his bare torso was leaned back in the one of his many writing poses. The manuscript was finished and turned in. He was waiting to do his copy edits. He sighed, So why aren't I going?
Of course he knew the answer, it was because of the dreams. They had started well over a year ago and at first they were innocent. No Rickie, they weren't. Don't delude yourself, he chided his inner self. They only seemed so, we both know had the shock not woken me they would have gotten much more explicit. That idea made him smile, to have the oh-so-controlled Kate Beckett doing things that were not controlled…
Get a hold of yourself, Castle, thinking like that makes everything worse. Giving up on even writing an outline for the next Nikki Heat book, Rick closed his laptop.
That's when he heard the front door open. Alexis was already asleep, he had checked as he came downstairs. Mother, he thought wryly. Quietly he put the computer on the desk and walked to his office door. Sure enough Martha Rodgers was indeed back, at least for the evening. She was relocking the door when Rick loudly cleared his throat. A startled gasp met his ears, then he was blinded by the light.
"Richard, what on Earth? What are you doing up at this hour?" The Grand Dame asked as she got her heart back under control. She set the bag she was carrying down and crossed to her son. "What's wrong? Is Alexis…"
Rick cut her off there. "Alexis is fine. She's fast asleep. I was trying to think of an outline for the next book, and failing… miserably."
Martha knew what he wasn't saying. "Ah, in other words. You're bored." She had a unique was of cutting right to the heart of the matter. She directed them to the couch, still aware that her son had a torch as big as the city. "Have you called her? Or one of the others for that matter?"
Rick, of course, followed Martha and sat. He hadn't tried calling anyone. He was still hurt that they had arrested and interrogated him. "Mother, " he began trying to gather his arguments, "They arrested me. They thought I had done something wrong. Me. They know me and still thought I was a suspect."
Martha sighed; she had heard this for the last few days. "Richard, you were standing over a dead body. They were doing their jobs." She raised a hand forestalling him cutting her off. "Don't forget darling. They did find out it wasn't you and let you go. Find a way to invite them over, poker maybe. All of them."
Wiping his face Rick knew his mother was right, not that he'd ever let her know that. So instead he made up an excuse. "I don't even know if they all play poker mother." He was grasping and they both knew it.
"Then make it a karaoke night, have Alexis and I here even, something to bring you together without a body." She patted his leg in her loving way. "I'm sure you'll think of something, you always do. For now, it's late Richard and I'm tired. We can talk more later, go to sleep. I'm sure everything will look up in the morn…" Martha had looked at her watch. "Well later this morning anyway. Good night Darling." With that and a dazzling smile for her son, she headed upstairs.
With a shake of his head, Rick smiled back. "Good night Mother."
He sat there another few minutes; maybe she had a good idea. Maybe he could invite everyone to his place. Get us back together with something other than having someone die. Not a bad idea. He leaned forward to get up and ended up un-sticking his back from the leather couch. Making a mental note to have the AC checked he padded over and turned out the lights. Dreams be damned, it's past time to sleep. He thought as he climbed the stairs to his room. Stopping at the window for a personal good night. Standing there he couldn't help himself. Touching the glass lightly he sent his thoughts out to the one he cared about. Good Night Kate, Sleep Well.
Going back over to the bed he again turned down the covers, sliding into the cool sheets his tired brain finally gave up. His last conscious thought was one of desperation. I'm so tired of being alone.