A/N: So last chapter was a learning experience. Jiminy Christmas! I should have worn some Kevlar! I've never written anything quite so unpopular. That said, for those of you not sharpening your pitch forks to skewer me, here's chapter 2! :D
But before we begin, I'll quickly get on my soap box again to point out that the words "slut" and "whore" are never appropriate things to call a woman fictional or otherwise. Please refrain from using them in your reviews.
It's another month before she works up the courage to confront Castle. If she were being honest it's not even courage that finally spurs her into action. It's the white hot seer of jealousy. She's at the precinct alone filling out forms and fuming.
She sent the boys home after their case, and had been hoping Castle would stick around to needle her. He never did paperwork, wasn't even legally allowed to, but before his asshole regression the past few months he would often stick around and keep her company. He'd play Fruit Ninja or Angry Birds on his phone and provide her with a running commentary of his progress. She'd threaten to shoot him about a dozen times, and he would remind her that that would only end in more paperwork. Then they would hit Remy's or The Old Haunt after. It was always nice.
But tonight he had danced around showing Ryan the photo of the busty blonde waitress who was coming over to his place, and then left in a flurry. It was the first time Beckett had ever accidentally snapped a pen. It had taken her fifteen minutes the clean the ink off her desk and another hour to finish off her files.
The boil had been slow, but as she closed her last manila folder she couldn't take it anymore. Another quarter hour and she finds herself outside Castle's door knocking hard.
"Beckett?!" Shock is written all over his face as he answers, pulling the door open a little less than half way.
"Rick we need to talk," she says, and her voice doesn't waver the way she had expected it. His hair is slicked back, wet from the shower, and he's in a wrinkled t-shirt and boxers. She doesn't feel particularly intimidating, but the color drains from his face at her words.
"Ricky is that the sushi?" a high pitched voice calls from his office. The new blonde, Jessica, bounces around the corner. Her bare legs stick out from his bathrobe and Kate's heart plummets into her stomach. She wants to vomit on Castle's bare feet, but she holds her ground.
"Can I catch you later Beckett? We're waiting for Sushi Dojo." He waggles his eyebrows in the perfect imitation of the shallow douchebag he's been playing lately. The carefree look doesn't quite reach his eyes, and it allows her a tiny bit of confidence.
Kate takes a step into the loft, pushing open the door and crossing the threshold, committing to this fight and a dozen other things she doesn't want to think about. "No Castle," she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and repeats herself, "We need to talk. Now."
"Ricky?" the blonde slides up behind him and rests her head on his shoulder. "What's going on? Who is this?"
Castle jolts forward out of the woman's touch, and Kate feels another stab of hope as something akin to terror lights up his eyes. He speaks, but doesn't take his eyes off of Kate.
"Jess, I'm sorry. You need to leave."
"What?!" the blonde shrieks, sizing up Kate as if she's ready for a cat-fight. Kate leans her shoulders back, towers a full six feet with the aid of the heels on her boots and Jess unconsciously takes a step back.
"I'll call you," Castle says, finally turning his attention to the waitress.
In a huff the other woman stomps to the bedroom. The two minutes it takes her to dress and reemerge feel like a year. Kate can not hide how heavily she is breathing in the silence. Jess pushes past her, bumping her shoulder harder than necessary as she exits.
"Bitch," Jess tosses over her shoulder.
Kate just takes another step into the loft and gently closes the door behind her. When she turns to face him, the fear in his eyes is replaced with a coldness, and she's certain that this is going to be her biggest heartbreak since she was nineteen.
"What do you want Beckett?" he asks.
"I want this to stop Castle," she meets his eye. "I can't do this anymore."
"Do what?"
"This. Whatever is left here. I can't stay locked into it."
He scoffs loudly, venomously. "Stay? You're not locked. You're not in it at all. You never have been."
"I'm sorry," she says, not sure what the words are worth.
"You should go," he replies.
It's cold and she's done taking that from him. She pokes him hard in the chest. In other circumstances it would be comical, but his eyes darken and he bristles even further. She moves further into the loft, seeking to gain ground on his turf.
"I spent the night with Colin Hunt last month, and since then I haven't been able to focus on anything but how I had been unfaithful to you." He's looking away from her and she side steps to force his eyes to hers. "Do you know how twisted that feels? We have nothing. We are nothing," she hisses. "And I still felt like I had cheated."
He looks simultaneously furious and devastated. "What exactly do you want from me? Permission? Sleep with whoever you want, Beckett!"
"Why because that's what you're doing?! Bedding flight attendants and waitresses. God Castle, at least I didn't sleep with Colin with the intent to punish you!"
Never before has she seen him this angry. Knuckles are white as he clenches his fists at his side, eyes almost black with rage. "No, you slept with him because apparently you would rather be with anyone than someone who loves you."
"Oh, that's how you're going to play this," she counters. "Alright then. I heard you that day in the cemetery. I lied about it because I was confused and hurting, and didn't know how to deal with those feelings. I've been in therapy this past year, trying to be better so we could have the chance we deserved. Just when I thought we were close you decided you would rather be a playboy. So I tried to move on too, and realized I can't."
"You. Need. To. Leave." He grits the words out.
As scary as his expression is, Kate doesn't fear him, knows in her core that he would never physically hurt her. She leans in putting her nose inches from his. "No," she says defiantly.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" he explodes.
He turns away after his outburst, but she ducks around to keep him in front of her. "I want my partner back. I want my best friend back. I can't watch you with these bimbos on your arm anymore. I can't watch as you regress into that bored careless jackass you were four years ago!"
He let's out a sharp cold laugh. "You have a lot of nerve, Beckett. I'll give you that."
She swallows hard, blinks to keep back the tears that are burning behind her eyes. He opens his mouth to speak again, probably to tell her off, but she steps closer to him and beats him to the punch. "I get it, Castle. I waited too long." Her voice does crack then, and she clears her throat before continuing. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster or tell you sooner. I'm sorry about Colin. I hate myself for a lot of things, but mostly I hate that I ever made you feel undeserving, because there's never been a man more worthy of love."
His expression shifts quickly, goes unreadable, but at least there is something other than anger in his eyes. She sees him swallow heavily and kick at the floor a little, and she can't help but wonder which emotions he's trying to hold back. "You don't get to do this," he says.
Her hand cards roughly through her hair. She's on a roll now and she's going to get everything out even if it means the end of them. "You don't get to do this either. I'm the coward here Castle, not you. You get to move on. I understand that. I have no say in what you do or who you see. I'm complicated and I'm not fun. I hide in subtext and let you hide in innuendo. And maybe you deserve better than me, but you sure as hell should get better than that," she points to the door where Jess just exited.
He opens his mouth a few times, but only a strangled noise comes out. She's rendered the man who never shuts up speechless. It's a small victory, but she'll take it.
"You should have someone real. Someone who sees just you. Someone who loves you as completely as I do." She pauses, wipes her eyes and clears her voice. "I've done a shit job of showing it, but I do love you. I can endure a lot Castle, I'll survive losing you, but if you ever cared about me at all you won't make me watch that, watch you chase less than you deserve."
Silence follows. A long stretching silence that fills every crevice in the room. She studies the floorboards for a moment, wiping her eyes before lifting her head. She's startled to find his eyes are wet too. There's a silent plea in the shake of her head, a need for him to say anything. He can throw her out, tell her he needs time, laugh in her face. Anything.
"I've been looking into your mom's case on my own!" It comes out in a burst, just short of yelling, as if the words had been pressurizing inside him and finally broke through his seams. There's both shame and relief in the confession, and if she thought she didn't have her footing before, she's in a god damned landslide now.
Her shock is total, and she doesn't know if she actually forms the question to ask him to elaborate, or if he launches into the explanation of his own accord. The world around her seems to blur and buzz as she's told of secret phone calls and mysterious rendezvouses with a man called Smith. Castle is darkly animated as she backs toward the door. He's desperate. Possessed.
He starts trying to justify. Explaining that he was protecting her, trying to do his best for everyone involved. Her own confessions have left her cracked open and raw. This, is just too much. She doesn't want to hear anymore.
Just then there's a loud knock on the door. "Sushi!" a squeaky male voice calls from the other side of the door.
Everything breaks then. Kate suddenly feels ridiculous. The pubescent call of the delivery boy reminds her that Rick was bedding another woman less than a half hour ago.
"I can't do this," she breathes. And brushes past the teenager in the door way. Castle doesn't call out to her as she makes her way down the hall.
The elevator doors ping open and she doesn't look back as she steps in. She knows she's running away, and yet she can't seem to bring herself to stop. After all, hiding is what she's best at.
A/N: If anyone needs me I will be seeking cover until the next round of shelling is over. ;) Part three should be up soon-ish and will be decidedly lighter.