Chapter 2: Outrunning the Thoughts
She jolted awake to the blaring sound of her alarm going off somewhere in the distance, soon realizing the sound came from her phone that was placed on her bedside table, 7am it read as she reached to turn it off. The alarm she had set to go off each and every morning, which she clearly had forgotten to turn off when she crawled into her bed approximately 5 hours ago. Her head throbbed mildly, not enough to convince her to pull the covers back up to her chin and head to sleep again, but enough to be an annoyance that she just wished would go away. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had even traces of a hangover, but the sugar in her rum and cokes all night were definitely the cause of her pounding head, dry mouth and extreme thirst.
She mostly chose not to drink too much anymore because of her father, not that it was a worry that crossed her mind much anymore these days, but it still didn't feel right after all she had gone through helping him to get sober. She remembered the days all too vividly, the drunken phone calls she would receive while she was still relatively new in the NYPD, not yet making detective, and having to trek all the way back to her childhood home in order to pull him out of the bottle long enough to put him to sleep and make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit. It happened far too long until she finally broke, a fighting match between the two of them about her no longer wanting to be the parent in the relationship, the night would be forever burned in her mind. When he finally told her that he was going to his first AA meeting, she sighed in relief, and the two of them never looked back. He had struggled with it, but he was so ready when he finally went, to not long let go of the substance abuse, but to have his daughter back, it made it all that much easier for Jim Beckett to become sober. She could hardly imagine that it had been nearly 5 years since he muttered those words to her, though she never could have imagined how far the two of them would have come since then.
They both dealt with Johanna's murder in equally destructive ways. Jim with the alcohol, and Kate with her own addiction with the case. Shortly after joining the NYPD, still being one of the newer uniforms to the precinct she would sit for hours down in the archives late at night, bribing the officer on duty to let her in. She had been over the files, the evidence, picked over every detail with a fine tooth comb so many times in those months she quickly lost count of the hours that she spent, the times she traced her fingers over the picture of her mother, lying shot dead in the alley. She could recite the case files, every single word in her sleep those days, her obsession with finding the people responsible for the most destructive thing in her life and them having to pay for what they had done consumed her. It became the reason she continued to breathe, and filled every second of her life. It became just as, if not more destructive than Jim's drinking. But it was also all those years ago she vowed to let the case go, the prospect of making detective pulling her out of the spiral she had found herself in. Montgomery being partially to thank for getting her out of everything back then. He helped her not only let go, but gave her the promise of something new to live for, a new purpose in life.
It was all years ago, but the memories were still vivid in her mind, she was sure they always would be. Now her and Jim always tried to grab lunch or breakfast on a weekly basis, she tried to make church with him on the occasional Sundays she had off, the two vowing to spend time catching up on the week's events with one another. She was sure it was somewhat out of obligation, like it had been all those years ago to make sure that Jim was keeping up the sobriety, or that Kate wasn't drowning herself in work and Johanna's case, but at the same time, it felt more like something they each deserved to do for the other these days. They were the only family that each other had left, and both knew more than anything that Johanna would never allow them not to be there for each other. She felt closer to her father now than she had in years, calling him when she had tough days at work to talk afterwards, or asking about his fishing trips up to the cottage with his friends. Even if it was somewhat of an obligation, it never felt like one, more of a tradition these days.
She managed to roll herself up to a seated position, placing her feet on the cold hardwood of her floor. She needed water, an advil, and a run to clear her head. All these thoughts about the past, yet still in the back of her mind she couldn't wrap her head around the events of last night. Had she really spent the night drinking and flirting with Richard Castle after stumbling across a quiet bar when all she wanted was a drink and some alone time. She was pretty sure she couldn't have possibly dreamed up something quite that elaborate. She pulled on running clothes before she managed to drag herself out to the kitchen in search of the few things she desperately needed right now. She had learned quickly that running was something that always helped her clear her head, no matter what, and it certainly helped in kicking the hangovers she used to get much more frequently in college. As painful as it would be trudging out into the cold air of March, traces of snow still found on the New York City sidewalks, it would do her more good than continuing to lay in bed with her thoughts. She chugged down a water bottle along with two advil, grabbed her phone, setting it to her running playlist and shoving it in the armband she had thrown on earlier. Lacing her running shoes up tight she headed out the door to her apartment in an attempt to outrun the thoughts that were quickly over running her brain.
Castle slowly cracked open an eye, the sun was streaming down on his face, making it impossible for him to continue to stay asleep. He really should have thought to close his blinds before he climbed into bed and passed out last night. Sure enough it was just past 8am, the curse of not being able to sleep in after a night of drinking continued to haunt him, you'd think he would have gotten used to it by now. He groaned, running his hands over his face and fingers through his hair. It was far too early to be up when he got home as late as he did last night, but now that he was awake there would be no more falling back asleep, that he was sure of. He blindly reached for his phone that he would have placed on his bedside table last night, not that he really expected to have any messages, it was just after 8am, on a Saturday, no one in their right mind would willingly be up at this hour. Sure enough all he had was another email from Gina about the status of his new novel. That was something that could wait until later, she wouldn't expect a reply from him for hours, knowing well enough that he didn't roll out of bed in the mornings until it was absolutely necessary.
Surely some coffee would help, he thought as he pushed himself out of bed and headed to his kitchen. The floor of the loft was cold, the weather outside still rather chilly for March, he couldn't wait for the nicer days. The coffee maker starting to sputter as he threw in some coffee grounds and turned it on, pulling a mug down from the cupboard above it. He rested his elbow on the countertop and his head in his palm, watching the carafe slowly fill with the dark liquid. He figured he could fill his day with errands and mindless activities, he should be writing, but that didn't seem appealing to him at all. Not that groceries, laundry, or anything else he should get done sounded overly exciting, but it would be better than staring at the blinking cursor of a blank word document. He would sit there in his office with it taunting him, daring him to write words on the blank document in front of him, only for him to end up hating them and delete them moments later. It had been all he had been doing for the past month or so since finishing up the last Derrick Storm novel. He had killed off his main character, and as right as it felt at the time, new inspiration seemed to be non-existent to him.
He filled his cup to the brink with coffee, dragging his feet over to the couch and setting it on the coffee table before he headed to pick up the Saturday paper that would be sitting outside the front door to his loft. He flopped down onto the couch, back against the armrest, feet propped up on the other side. Flipping through the paper and doing the crossword would certainly kill some of the morning hours that he disliked so greatly. He settled down on the couch, coffee mug and the paper in hand, his phone on the coffee table in front of him, just in reach, per the chance that someone he actually wanted to answer messaged him.
He heard his phone ring, pulling him from the daze of the crossword he had fallen into. His ex-wifes name, number and picture popping up on the screen. Gina. It taunted him, made a chill run down his spine, she was the absolute last person he wanted to talk to right now. He knew he was late on his manuscript, and he knew that when his mother had visited a week ago, and had lunch with her she told her about how little writing he was doing. He knew if he were to answer it would be the same nagging voice he had divorced all those years ago on the other line. He hit the deny button quickly, without regret. He would deal with her at some other time. His manuscript was only a week late, that was nothing. He had just killed off Derrick Storm, his pride and joy in a character for the last while, it was normal for him to need a little bit more time before he decided to invest and dive into something new.
His phone dinged with a text nearly a minute later. Gina again of course. Something about how she knew that he was avoiding her calls, and if he continued to do so that she also knew where he lived, she had lived there with him once upon a time, so it wasn't like she couldn't come find him at the loft. He just simply sighed and closed the message. Avoidance was definitely the answer to this, or so he hoped.
He didn't regret the marriage that Gina and him had, it had been a good thing at the time. They were young and in love, and both figured why not? But if he had learned one thing from it, it was not to date, let alone marry and divorce your publisher, he definitely wouldn't be making that mistake again anytime soon. The one and only marriage and divorce he currently had under his belt had been over for nearly seven years now, ending almost as abruptly as it began, something Castle was also glad about. No long drawn out divorce with messy financials, kids, or ownership. They simply signed the papers, quick and easy. He also couldn't be happy that it ended before things got even more serious, such as a house and kids. They soon learned after the marriage that they were too very different people having rushed into something that wasn't ideal for the either of them, and ended it right then and there. Yet, much to his dismay sometimes, Gina still haunted him in the form of his publisher. Castle simply agreed with her these days, promising things only to later go against them. He wrote his books the way he chose, and that was something she had always hated. That no matter what she suggested and said he should do, he would do what he wanted, he was the best seller after all.
He set a reminder on his phone for a couple hours later, titling it 'phone Gina', as he would prefer she not come knocking at his door at anytime. She was tolerable over the phone, but if she ended up coming to his home, he could just see her strapping him into his desk chair until he began to write, and that was not something he wanted to deal with, ever. He would sit down and try to write tomorrow, spend the day in front of his laptop and demand that his fingers and brain work together to create words, that hopefully he wouldn't hate. But today he'd spend relaxing, nursing the little bit of a headache that was quickly approaching and hoping that one gorgeous detective he met last night would answer the text he sent her before pouring himself into bed at some ungodly hour that morning.
Hope everyone enjoyed the second chapter! A little bit more background into the timeline I've created and changes I've made. The next chapter we will definitely be delving a little bit more into the story.
Have to thank my wonderful girls again for their love and encouragement, and Logan for always keeping me on my grammar A-game.
Reviews are always appreciated, and the next chapter, if not up this weekend, will definitely be up by Monday evening!
