A Father's Love
Chapter 2
After leaving Jim Beckett in the diner, Castle walked for several blocks in a daze before crossing Lexington to reach Park and a cab ride home.
His body functioned on automatic while his brain ran into overdrive, processing all he that had just learned and replaying the personal request made by Kate's father over and over.
He had lived in a sea of confusion ever since he'd been to see his partner in the hospital, the one and only time he'd been able to visit her. He had arrived at her bedside that day with heart stopping nerves and an excited hope as to what she might say to him in the wake of his desperate, impulsive graveside confession, only to have to leave the hospital mere minutes later with a hollowed out feeling of disappointment after discovering that she had no memory of the event at all, and worse than that: she was dismissing him. He left that day all out of options. He had no more cards to play.
His expectations had been romantically outrageous, optimism of stratospheric proportions, he was later able to recognize. This was Kate Beckett after all, he had reminded himself in the dark solitude of his bedroom, and nothing with her ever came easily. To expect her to fall into his arms, to profess her love in return, especially with her surgeon boyfriend hovering out in the hallway, had been stupid and naive and went against everything he'd learned about her over the years of his shadowing. He cursed his own baseless optimism and vowed to think harder before he acted on impulse in future.
But just when could he tell her now, he had wondered, as he'd travelled back home from her bedside in a haze of despondency that day? When might another opportunity arise where he might let her see how deeply he felt for her? He tormented himself with these questions while feeling stupidly over-dressed in his smart, black suit. He felt like a man who had gone down on one knee and proposed with a flashy diamond ring, only to be turned down with no explanation beyond the word "no."
One thing was certain: he couldn't wait for her to be almost taken from him again to let her know how he felt. That cowardly path only promised a lifetime of regret and sorrow. While waiting for a second chance, he'd bide his time, use his head, he'd be there for her when she let him. If she ever let him. Patience was the only way forward for now.
So he had thrown himself into her case. Firstly, driven by the need to solve, hunt down and protect, while actually doing something to take his mind off the relentless ticking of the clock. Second of all, he was compelled by the need to be where he felt closest to her. If he couldn't actually be by her side then he worked long hours at her desk in the hope of a phone call. He made coffee after coffee and drank it from her favorite mug. He ignored the pitying looks the boys gave him when he checked his phone every half hour for texts, missed calls, and eventually to see that the battery hadn't died, the ringer turned off or the signal gone down.
He missed her every single second. He missed her more than he ever had, in fact, because his access had suddenly been cut off, and not by a captain intent on enforcing departmental rules or by a changing of the guard in the Mayor's office. He'd been cut loose by Kate herself, and unless he went against her wishes and just showed up at her hospital bed or called her himself and demanded an explanation for her silence, then this unremitting hole that had opened up in his chest would remain open, interminably.
And then Jim Beckett had phoned, offering a solution to all his woes. It wasn't exactly permission from Kate, but this request from her father was the next best thing. Furthermore, it was all that seemed to be on offer right now. If he wanted a chance to be back in her life, this was it.
When he arrived home from his meeting with Jim, he stripped for bed while churning these thoughts over in his mind. He shed his clothes in an untidy heap that missed his hamper by a country mile. He failed to notice until he tripped over the leg of his jeans, cursing when he almost took a header into the wall. He blew out a breath, calmed himself down and then went straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Later, alone in the dark, he lay still, staring up at the ceiling. His plantation shutters cast a pattern like prison bars above his head. How had he failed to notice this before? He got up and closed them, sparing himself a new nightmare, since his back catalog of oldies but goodies was stuffed fuller than a Blockbuster Video horror section right now.
He couldn't write another word as much as he couldn't stop looking into Kate's case or thinking about her minute by minute. He certainly couldn't walk away now, no matter how long it took for her to call him. Her fingerprints were all over his life just as his could be found all over hers. The sad fact of the matter was that he wouldn't have it any other way.
Around three, he flicked on the bedside lamp, struggled to a sitting position and reached for his cell phone. He had Kate's dad's number saved in his contacts list. This was a development he couldn't quite believe. He felt slightly duplicitous, as if he and Jim were crafting a plan for Kate's life without her knowledge. Which, in actual fact, was what they were doing. He hated deceit. As soon as she found out, he knew she would be furious, probably with him most of all. Blood was thicker than water for sure, especially at times like this. And she had favored him as a convenient target for her anger in the past, an easy mark for her blame, maybe her fear.
"Yeah, well, last time I checked, it was my life, not your personal jungle gym. And for the past three years, I have been running around with the school's funniest kid, and it's not enough."
Her words still stung like a slap all these weeks later. But right now, he'd forgive her just about anything for another chance to talk, to look into her eyes and have her tell him that she had heard him and she either did or did not feel the same way. He'd take that gamble just to know for certain that his imagination wasn't overruling his instincts, and that his heart hadn't outfoxed his head. Intuition told him that she cared deeply, that their attraction to one another was just that: mutual. He was sure of it, but at this point, he simply had no proof.
He thumbed his phone screen, called up Jim Beckett's contact details and tapped out a text.
10am tomorrow. I'll be there. No promises. Rick
The speed with which a reply arrived told him a lot about Jim Beckett's tender state of mind. Just after three in the morning and the guy was still awake. He wondered if Kate had any idea the level of concern she caused to those who loved her.
Appreciate it, son. Don't let her scare you off and don't take no for an answer. Her bark is worse than her bite.
Castle had just finished reading the text message and was on the point of returning his phone to the nightstand when it chirped for a second time.
His heart started hammering. This time Jim's text simply said:
You should probably know that the doctor's gone. Jim
Castle tempered the surge of optimism that flared on learning this nugget of information. He wondered what it could mean – for her and for him. Was she simply shedding everyone from her life that she might end up becoming a burden to or was there more to the severing of her relationship with the good Doctor Davidson?
He fell asleep fifteen minutes later, counting large caliber bullets bouncing on a concrete floor. He woke in a cold sweat three hours after that, the beginnings of a scream caught in his parched throat. He hoped to God he was doing the right thing for all their sakes. One wrong move now and he could lose Kate Beckett for good.
