Chapter Seven
Rick sighed, emitting a mix of frustration and disappointment. He was a good student and liked to think that he'd perfected his researching abilities during his four years of high school and semester or so of college, but he hadn't been able to find anything about his father. He'd begun his quest and dedicated hour after hour attempting to learn something about the man and had been left with very little.
He was disappointed. He'd thought that living in his father's old house would give him some sort of connection to the man, and it did, in a way, but it wasn't enough. Rick lived for stories, and he knew that they were always there. His problem was that this particular story was taking its sweet time before it presented itself. The house itself had been devoid of any sort of trinkets that might give hints; all he'd had to go on there was that the man in question had had money, judging from the beauty of the house that he'd left to the son he'd never met. But other than that, anything went. Martha had told him he'd worked in the theatre, and that was it. It was one of the few subjects they didn't talk about. The main lead he had to go on was the man's name, which he had gotten from the will.
He had perused newspaper after newspaper, hoping something might come up in the arts section. He sighed again but still had his resolve to keep looking. It was a story that he was determined to uncover. And what was more, it kept his mind from wandering to Kyra. The wait was beginning to kill him, but he was still sure that she would come around eventually. She just had to. With that thought, he got back to his search.
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"Castle's hardly been around lately," Kate told Esposito as they sat together after Pearlmutter's class.
"Thought you'd be relieved about that," he teased, "Let's see, what have you called him in the past? Man-child, nine year old on a sugar rush, annoying."
"Yeah, but…I dunno. He actually has his moments of maturity, surprising as that may seem. And he helps take my mind off things."
Curious as he was, Esposito knew asking his friend exactly what she was trying to get her mind away from would get him nowhere. Kate was often incredibly reserved. And although he found this unnerving at times, Esposito figured if she was going to talk to him, she'd do so at her own pace.
"You should meet him," she continued, "And my friend Laine's coming out here soon, so you could meet her, too."
"Just gimme a day and I'm there."
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She was running. She couldn't be late and miss this moment. Picking up speed, she moved faster, running through the landscape with all of her strength.
She couldn't miss this. She wouldn't miss this.
She smiled when she finally saw her mother.
"Mom!" she called out.
Her mother looked as though she were about to say something, but she had begun to fade away and was gone before Kate could fully comprehend what was happening.
And then Detective Raglan had replaced her mother.
"I told you, girl, she's dead."
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She woke up suddenly, both fists clenched. She felt tense in general. Standing up, she left her room and headed toward the stairs. She didn't want to sleep anymore. She was coping, could get through the days without panicking or crying. When she slept, everything that she had successfully evaded came running back to her at full speed.
She hated it. Avoidance was her coping mechanism of choice. Couldn't her subconscious respect that?
"Kate?" Castle asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"Oh. Castle. Hey," she said. She pulled up her pajama top up a bit, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.
"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting down next to him as she tried to put the dream out of her mind. He had a pile of newspapers and a highlighter by his side.
"Just – um, project," he replied, "What are you doing up? Can't sleep?"
"Nope. So what have you been up to these past few days? Or do I want to know?" she smirked.
"Hey," he replied, grinning, "Kate Beckett, you missed me, didn't you?"
"Please. I never said that."
"It was all in the subtext."
"You and your crazy theories."
"Don't deny that they're spot on, Kate."
She shook her head, but she couldn't help but smile: Castle had managed to cheer her up in under five minutes.
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Rick grinned, "Party's almost starting."
Kate rolled her eyes, "It isn't a party, Castle. We're just having a few friends over.
"Right," Rick paused, looking thoughtful, "Though we should throw a party sometime. They're one of my specialties."
"Specialties, eh?" Kate asked dryly.
He nodded, "Parties, writing, and quoting the works of Edgar Allan Poe."
"Really?"
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door," he said, standing up.
She shook her head, "You and your theatrics."
"No, really, Kate, someone's at the door."
He opened it to find Laine standing on the front porch.
"Hey!" she exclaimed cheerfully, "You must be the Castle I've heard so much about."
"Hey Laine," Kate said.
"Hey girl."
"Yo," Esposito said as he and Ryan stepped inside, door still open from Laine's entrance.
"Hey," Rick and Kate said simultaneously.
"You guys have already met?" Kate asked.
"Yeah, I got lost coming over and Ryan helped me out," Esposito explained.
Ryan nodded.
"Aren't you guys cute?" Laine smiled.
"Huh?" Ryan asked.
"I see the beginnings of a beautiful friendship," she continued.
"You always have such fast opinions about other people, chica?" Esposito asked her.
"You have no idea," Kate laughed.
Laine smiled again, "I could give a few insights about Writer Boy, too."
"Hey, it's Writer Man," Rick corrected good-naturedly.
"Alright Writer Man, spill," Laine instructed, "How'd a broke college student get this house? It's gorgeous."
"Yeah, I haven't heard this story either yet, Castle," Kate added.
He shrugged, "It was in the family."
"I wish my family had a house near NYU," Laine said, "My roommates are terrible."
"Laine, your parents live under an hour away from NYU," Kate looked amused.
"Girl, there is no way I'm living at home. I love my family, but they drive me crazy," she replied.
"What are you studying?" Esposito asked Laine.
"Pre-med. And yourself?"
"I'm undeclared."
"Well, you've got plenty of time to figure that out."
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A few days later, Kate called her dad. It had been awhile since they'd spoken. She frowned when the call went to voicemail. It had done that the day before as well, and it was unlike him.
"Hi Dad, it's Kate," she spoke into her phone, "Just calling to say hi, I guess. Um, things here are ok. School's fine. And Castle – Rick – and I had some friends over the other day, which also went well. Anyway, talk to you later, Dad. Bye."
