Author's Note: See notes on Chapter One for a more complete introduction. This chapter deals with episodes 1.6 Always Buy Retail – 1.10 A Death in the Family and is mostly from Castle's perspective; since I'm looking at his growth, the interior struggle seemed best coming from him rather than from an outside viewpoint.
Disclaimer: Castle and its characters do not belong to me, I make no money from this, and no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just enjoying some time with a few of my favorite characters. The story is mine, however, except where I'm directly quoting the episode.
Richard Castle, Grown-Up
Chapter Three: Do You Understand?
There really was no way he could do this on his own; his contacts and resources would surely be needed if he was to have any hope of solving what had happened to Johanna Beckett.
That very morning he had met with "Dr. Death," one of the best forensic pathologists around. He had given over his copy of the case file to Dr. Murray to see what he could discover ten years after the case had been active. If it could be found, he would find it, Castle was confident. The problem was that Detective Beckett had just gotten very angry as he had broached the subject of reopening her mother's case, and at his suggestion that they work on it together.
Why hadn't he listened when his mother had told him to back off? Sure. Right. Because she always gives stellar advice and I always heed it. But this one is going to come back to bite me, big time. I just know it. It had started off innocently enough, with a timid beginning: he wanted to ask her something. "Since when do you ask permission to ask questions?" she had replied. Never, that was the problem in this case. Her emphatic words on the subject after he voiced his ideas were still echoing so very loudly in his ears, tormenting him. "Castle, you touch my mom's case and you and I are done. Do you understand?" Yeah. I understand. Oh, why didn't you tell me that before I took the file, before I had someone start looking into it?
He was trapped, really. As they travelled down to street level in the elevator, he considered his hopeless position. He couldn't go back and change what he had done, but neither could he now go forward. Lying was not a good option. Even if he could get away with it, there would always be an invisible barrier between them. He had gotten to know Detective Kate Beckett a little bit and had come to genuinely like her, not just as his inspiration, not just as a desirable woman, but for herself—everything that made her the incredible lady that she was. But one thing he had learned early and learned well: the truth was the most important thing to her.
Despite his internal distress, Castle forced all of these thoughts to the background while they worked on the plastic surgeon's murder. Perhaps I won't have to tell her about it after all—if Dr. Murray can't find anything, then my little foray into her past will be over before it's really begun. I'll destroy my copy of the file and only Esposito will know that I even looked at it. He won't talk because he's the one who got it for me. I don't have to worry about this right now. I can't worry about this right now.
Life went on as usual: they solved cases and locked up bad guys, or girls as the case dictated. Then, several days later, the phone call came that he had dreaded. "Rick, this is Clark Murray. Can I come over?" Castle knew then that he had found something, something so terrible that he didn't want to deliver the blow over the phone.
As he paced the floor anticipating the doctor's arrival, Castle remembered his conversation with Detective Beckett as they waited for word on Agent Sorenson. She felt responsible for his condition since she had pushed for the meet and it was leaving the meet that he had been shot. It was hard, watching her beat herself up over something she really didn't cause. Right before they found out that Sorenson was going to be fine, he had told her she was extraordinary, and meant every word of it. That was why this was so hard for him. I don't want to lose her, not now, not when I'm just getting to know who she is.
The past weeks and months have been… wonderful. There was no other way to describe them. Beckett seemed to have accepted his presence in her life and a sort of camaraderie had developed between them, as had a good-natured banter. He'd make a stupid, childish remark and rather than ignoring him, she usually had a smart comeback. It was getting so he was saying some of the most immature things he could think of, trying to provoke a response from the good detective. That was the main reason for the bulletproof vest. Sure, it was a necessary piece of safety equipment, but the extra money he paid for the "WRITER" patch had been well worth it as he watched her eyes roll when she saw it. I'm good for her, even if she won't admit it, yet. He kept her smiling, even in tense moments.
He had proven his worth in more than just keeping things light. He had provided "eyes" and a distraction in the gun battle as they finished up a case not so long ago; even she had admitted that he had probably saved her life. He enjoyed that. But rather than simply accept her thanks, he deliberately toyed with her a bit. Maybe it was the champagne he had consumed from the bottle he used to distract the shooter; or maybe it was the adrenaline rush from the gun battle that made him do it, just to see how she would react. "Probably? I definitely saved your life. And you know what that means, don't you? It means you owe me." She looked a little angry. Good. I'm getting under her skin. She does react to me, then.
"Owe you what?" she demanded.
"Whatever I want. And you know exactly what I want, don't you?" He put on his most mischievous smile and started moving toward her, letting his body language imply what he wanted. "You know what I really, really want you to do." He adjusted his glass and moved closer to her. Just as it looked like he was going to kiss her, he altered his path and whispered in her ear. "Never, ever, call me 'kitten.'" Unfortunately for him, the reaction he got from himself was what proved to be rather surprising. He didn't expect to have to fight so hard to keep from kissing her, but being that close and knowing he absolutely should not follow through with that kiss had been unsettling. Rick had not been aware that he did in fact possess some self-control and wanted to make the most of it before his resolve vanished. He kept walking past her, and around the corner, down the stairs and back to the car. Yes, distance is what I need right now.
He had other moments of nobility, too; Kate Beckett just seemed to bring out the best in him. While playing poker at his apartment, he let her win. He could handle the teasing, but didn't want her to get embarrassed by her loss, to him of all people. The stakes were much higher for her with her coworkers and boss present, and she had talked her hand up so much that he just didn't have the heart to humiliate her, even if he had initially provoked her into their little duel. So he folded a winning hand. She hadn't been pleased by his actions, however, and gave back her winnings. She also insisted on a rematch, agreeing to return to his apartment and play poker, but this time, in addition to her boss, the mayor and a judge were also present. It came back around to a literal rematch, just the two of them, but she let him win this time. That one had hurt. But he knew she meant well, so he had given back the money. At the end of the day, they decided on a fair rematch, one-on-one with no audience, to decide the issue. It was a rare moment, just the two of them, and he enjoyed every minute of it.
But the highlight of the past few weeks had been that charity event he took her to as his date. It wasn't really a date, I know that. It was a way to get us into the fundraiser, to solve the case. He had to acknowledge though, just to himself, that he had savored every moment as much as if it were an honest-to-goodness evening out together. He had debated sending the dress to her, partly because he did not want to start the evening out in an argument, but when she appeared at his door in the red sequined gown, he was speechless. It fit like a dream, and she had done her hair beautifully. When Martha had added a gorgeous ruby and diamond necklace to her throat, Kate Beckett was walking perfection.
The opportunity to have her to himself, even for a case, had been amazing. When he had spun her into his arms to talk, it just felt right; what had started as a legitimate need to discuss some new information had become a pleasant surprise as he held her in his arms, moving slowly to the music. Everything had come together nicely. His only complaint was that it ended all too soon. What made up for that was her returning the necklace the next morning and staying for breakfast with them after only a few token protests.
And perhaps, most importantly, she had started actually referring to them as friends during that same case. She asked him to stay in the car, as a friend. Maybe it was manipulation on her part, somehow he doubted that, but he couldn't leave the car after she asked him that way! It wasn't like he'd ultimately been left out of the action, either—staying in the car had put him right in the middle of it, and landed him a very nice shiner in the process! I love this job!
Dr. Murray arrived and shattered any hope he had of the easy out; he had found too much for Rick to just sweep it under the rug. But if I tell her, I have no doubt that she will follow through on her threat. I can't just let her walk out of my life like that. Then again, if I don't tell her, I'll have lost her anyway—she'll figure it all out eventually and be even more furious with me for not telling her sooner, for not giving her the chance to follow up on this new information. What I thought was an opportunity to get on her good side has now turned into a no-win situation. I don't see any way that I can hold on to her through this.
He stared out the window, continuing to argue with himself as he watched the raindrops trace meandering paths down the glass. Finally, he came to a decision. She's right. As much as I hate to admit it, my mother is right. I didn't leave it alone and now I have to tell Kate the truth, all of it. What I did before I knew how she felt, and what I have found as a result. She deserves that much from me, at least.