I am sorry for the wait, i dont know how long it has been since the last update, but i have been super busy. this chapter is long and very confused and i wrote it in just over an hour with no idea of where exactly it was headed but just needing to update, so this is what you get people!:) Please Leave a review and let me know what you think, and just hang in there, tomorrow is MONDAY!:)
I dont own castle.
He wondered how she did it. How she stood up and stayed strong every time the world came crashing down around her. He was amazed at how she was able to piece together the fragments of her life and keep going, keep strong, keep it together.
He wondered how she did it, because he couldn't.
He didn't know how she had managed to pick herself up and get on with it, he couldn't grasp how she was able to carry on despite everything life had thrown at her. Her mom's death, Royce's death, Roy's death. Nearly freezing to death, nearly being shot to death, nearly drowning. How did she do it? How did she have the courage to keep going?
Because he sure as hell didn't.
He loved her with all his heart, every fibre of his being worshipped the very ground she walked on. He was a writer, but even he could not come up with the words that would accurately describe his feelings for her, he was fairly certain there weren't any. He valued her life even above his own, which he risked on a daily basis for her, always for her.
He did it to keep her safe. He wanted her to be safe, from the people who killed her mom, from the people who tried to kill her and anyone else he could think of.
But this was a twist even his clever writers brain hadn't come up with. Now he would have to keep her safe from his own father.
He hadn't bothered to deny it, even in his own mind. He couldn't if he tried.
Now that he looked hard and paid attention, he could see it, the resemblance.
Between himself and this man. This man who had caused more trouble than Rick had actually been aware of.
His face was the same. Rick spent at least ten minutes in front of the mirror every morning, working hard to perfect his hair. He wasn't vain, not in the slightest. But when walking around with the most beautiful creature on two legs, one had to look their best.
He knew his own face, the set of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. He knew what he looked like. And now he could see the similarities he held with Mr Smith.
Their foreheads had the same crease in the brow, Rick's was from puzzling over his writing, and worrying about the women in his life, which he doubted was the case for Mr Smith.
They also shared the same shape eyes, but while Rick knew his own were sapphire blue and usually had a hint of mischief in them, or love where his family are concerned, Smiths eyes held nothing of the sort. They were cold and calculating, Rick could tell those eyes had never looked lovingly on anything. Ever. And probably never would.
So he did not deny the possibility that this man, Mr Smith, could be his biological father.
He tightened his hold on Kate, gripping his arms firmly around her small frame. They were shaking, the weight of the moment pressing them down, forcing them to submit, accept that it was happening, that it would happen, with or without them.
She held him just as hard, needing him, needing to feel his arms wrapped safely around her, needing to feel his heart beating strongly against her cheek.
He needed her too, needed her to be there for him for a change, needed her to be strong for him, like he had been for her so many times in the past.
She understood, she knew how he felt. She stood up for him, held him up when she didn't think he could do it himself. She knew what it felt like to have to be strong, she had done it so many times in her life, she had done it alone mostly because she had no other choice.
But when it counted most, when she really felt like she couldn't face the world any more, he had been there, he had been her rock, he had pulled her to her feet and given her the strength to carry on and he didn't even know it. He hadn't even meant to. But his presence in her life had done her wonders, had kept her going against all odds.
Now she was doing the same for him, holding him while he hurt, even though she was hurting too, because its something he would do, he would take care of her first and worry about himself later. She owed him this, she had to be strong for him.
Its what they do. They were strong for the other when they couldnt be strong for themselves. They balance each other out and it works. Its them. They hold each other together, they hold each other up. Always.
She isn't good with talking, she always follows his lead in these situations, she never knows what to say and this is no exception. So rather than run the risk of messing it up, of pushing him away, she doesn't. She stays silent. Waiting for him to be ready, its what he would do.
They stand like that for what seems like hours, until their legs are well and truly numb and the sun has noticeable moved in the sky.
She wanted to look at him, see his face, but she is scared of what she will see there. Will he be angry at her for forcing this upon him? For looking for his father, for actually finding him?
She is not fully aware of the relationship between Mr Smith and Castle, how often they talked, how much the older man revealed about himself to her partner, if anything at all. But she could tell from the way he was leaning on her, letting her hold him up, that it wasn't good, he wasn't ok.
Finally when she couldn't take the silence any longer, she turned her head, angling it so that she was looking up at the underside of his jaw. She pressed a kiss to his throat before whispering a quiet "Sorry" and burying her face in his neck.
They word seemed to jolt him back to life and he tightened his hold on her again, his grip just bordering on painful but she didn't care, she needed the closeness, they both did.
He couldn't stand any more. Literally, his legs were turned to jelly and his eyes were burning after staring at the illuminated screen for who knows how long.
He shuffled backwards, not loosening his hold on her at all. It took him two steps to reach the couch, then he collapsed onto it, pulling Kate onto his lap, cradling her like he used to Alexis after a bad dream.
He held her close, rocking her slightly, soothing her, for what though, she didn't know.
"I'm sorry. I am so incredibly sorry."
His voice was all choked up, emotions lacing his every word.
She didn't understand. What did he have to be sorry about? He had done nothing wrong, this one was on her. She had gone looking for his dad, she had found him, she had done this to him. What did he have to be sorry for?
She didn't ask, there was a part of her that wasn't sure it wanted to know.
But he continued anyway.
"I wouldn't blame you if you left now. I'm so sorry Kate." His voice was low, dejected, resigned and he loosened his death grip on her, letting her breathe again, letting her move, letting her leave.
Now she had to speak up. Because there was no way in hell she was going to leave him. She couldn't. She was not physically capable of making herself leave his side, break the contact between their bodies. She needed him.
"What are you sorry for Rick? Why would I leave you?"
Her words were muffled slightly by his neck but he heard them. He pulled her back slightly so he could look her in the eye.
"He's involved Kate. This man, Mr Smith, my… whatever he is, he had something to do with your mom's case, with your case, he is hiding something and protecting someone and he is using me to get to you."
She watched the words leave his mouth, if she hadn't, there was no way she would have believed he had said them. His voice was completely defeated, he sounded old and weak, like he was in pain.
She couldn't take it, she couldn't stare into his eyes and see the hurt and the anger and the guilt, because he hadn't done anything wrong, she had to make him see that.
She twisted her body as far as she could manage, until her scar was pulled too tightly to go further and she was facing his straight on. She placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eye and pay attention.
"Rick, you haven't done anything wrong, and no one is using you to do anything. And.. and I cant leave you, I don't want to, and even if I did I'm not sure I would be able to. I love you so much, and I need you."
She looked away from him as she admitted her need for him. It was a big step for her, they both knew it. Kate Beckett was strong and independent, she didn't need anyone to hold her while she cried. But now she did, now she needed him, she needed to be strong for him and have him do the same for her.
He knew what it must have taken her to be able to admit that she needed him, he knew how hard she was really trying to make it work, he knew how much she really loved him.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, hot and needy.
It was her who deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue through his open lips, tracing the lines of his mouth.
It was different, new, better. She could taste him, just him. The overwhelming taste of Scotch that had tainted their first kiss was nowhere to be found, this was just him, and her, it was them.
She moved her hands to behind his head, her fingers tangling in the soft hair at the base of his neck. His arms stayed around her waist, but he pulled her closer, leaning back against the couch as she snuggled further into his embrace, her legs tangling with his, which remained firmly on the floor, grounding them, keeping them stable. Their lips never broke contact.
She could taste the distinct salty flavour of tears, his or hers, she didn't know.
She finally broke the kiss, keeping him close to her, their foreheads still touching, their breaths coming in short gasps.
There was so much he wanted to know; was Mr Smith actually his father? And if so, why had be been absent during Rick's childhood? And why had he decided to return now, why had he decided to contact Rick now and risk putting him in danger?
What Rick most desperately wanted to know was what part Mr Smith had played in the murder of Johanna Beckett, and more recently, the shooting of her daughter, his partner and love.
He wouldn't be able to live with himself if his father had somehow contributed to the event that essentially ruined a young Kate Beckett's life, and he very much doubted she would want anything to do with him either.
He though he had understood Kate's need for answers, he thought he'd known exactly how she felt, what drove her to investigate her mother's case, he thought he'd understood how she managed to lose herself in it.
But he hadn't. Not until that very moment.
But it wasn't all about him, Kate was having similar thoughts.
She too wanted to know what part Mr Smith played in the conspiracy that had overcome her life, she wanted answers from him and she wanted them now dammit! But she was also afraid of what those answers might be, she wanted to know, but at the same time she didn't.
Because he would blame himself.
She knew Rick, she knew he would take it upon himself, if it turned out that his father, his direct relation, if only by blood, had a hand in her mother's murder, he would blame himself, he would hate himself, she knew he would.
She wanted so badly to know, finally know who had made the call, who had set Dick Coonan on her mother, who had had her killed. But when and if she found out, she would need him there, she would need Rick. She would need his presence to anchor her, she would need his arms to wrap around her and hold her up, she knew she would need him to be there for her, there was no point in denying it.
If it turned out that the man they arrested, the man they finally put in cuffs and charged with the murder of Johanna Beckett and so many others, if that man turned out to be this Mr Smith character, if he turned out to be Rick's father, then he would need her, Rick would need her to be there for him just as much as she would him to be there for her, they would need each other.
But he would push her away. She knew him, he would blame himself and leave, not wanting to hurt her, not wanting to be a reminder of the man that ruined her life. It was what he did, he put her above himself, always, and she knew it.
Right now she hated it.
She was torn, between wanting to know and wanting to forget. This discovery didn't change a thing, they were still no closer to cracking the mystery.
But they were definitely closer to each other.
She shifted so that her face was nuzzled into his neck, her lips at his throat. Her thoughts buzzed around in her head, threatening to break free, trying to voice everything she was feeling. He always did this to her, he made her want to tell him things, things she didn't usually share. He made her want to open up, to him, only to him.
Usually she could control it, only share what she wanted him to know, but she was feeling vulnerable and far too comfotable in his embrace.
"This isn't your fault"
She blurted it out, squeezing her eyes shut as she realised she had really said it.
She could practically feel his confusion, so she continued, picking her words more carefully.
"Rick, whatever happens from now on, you aren't to blame. You are not the one doing this, you are just he one trying to fix it. And I will always love you no matter how this thing turns out, always."
She hoped she was reassuring him, hoped she had been right in assuming he would blame himself and that she had not just put that idea into his head.
He nodded against the top of her head.
"I love you Kate"
She pressed her lips to his throat, kissing him softly.
"But no more Rick, no more investigating. Especially not now, we just need to wait it out a little, cool off and think it through, we cant have you do something stupid now can we?"
He smiled, she was teasing him, it was familiar and easy, a welcome change to the unchartered territory they were currently blundering through.
Also, she said 'we'.
He knew she was right, that she was burning for answers just as much as he was, but that they needed to be careful, there was so much about the situation that they still didn't know.
The remote for the smart board was sitting on the couch next to him, he must have thrown it there at some point.
Still supporting Kate's back him his arm, he reached his other hand out and hit the power button on the remote, turning the screen black.
He didn't want to look at it anymore, the picture. He didn't want to think about conspiracy's and betrayals and lies and killers. He just wanted to sit there and hold the woman that he loved. He just wanted to keep her in his arms and be with her, for one moment, without the weight of the world hanging above them.
He felt her lean into him, trusting him to hold her and keep her safe, and he loved the feeling.
He held onto it as they sat in comfortable silence, he revelled in the bubble they seemed to have created where nothing and no one could break them apart.
He chose to enjoy the moment while it lasted, because he knew it would end. Sooner or later they were going to have to leave their bubble and return to the real world. They were going to have to deal with the consequences of what they had both done.
But it would be ok, because they weren't going it alone anymore, they were going to face the dragon together, because that's what they did.
They were going to crack the conspiracy, they were. But not now, not in this very moment. Right now they were just going to sit there, wrapped up in the comfort they could only give each other.
SO there it is. i dont know what to make of it and i am running on no sleep and plenty of red bull. I also leave for vac to Africa tomorrow and will be away for three weeks and unable to update, but i am not abandoning this fic, i have so much more in store, but please leave a review so i know how much interest is still out there!:) happy Castle monday in advance for tomorrow:)
