Ten

Castle had seen the good, the snarky, and the (very rare) laughter from Kate Beckett, but now, five weeks into his shadowing, he was seeing the bad for the first time.

Cases were tough, there was no arguing against that. Armed robberies, petty theft, cybercrimes—he felt like he'd seen the gamut. Of course, none of them were easy. Victim's tales were always heart wrenching and seeing the pain on the faces of the families involved on both sides of the case was never easy. Most of the cases he had seen had been settled through plea deals, which caused them to feel less real, more like he was watching a play. Even the cases he'd watched her take to trial didn't seem that bad. At least, not until the murder case; nothing could have prepared him for that.

A seventeen-year-old girl had been stabbed to death on a basketball court after a late night game. From what the police had gathered, the girl's nineteen-year-old boyfriend had been arguing with another man, and she was stabbed in the stomach trying to break up their argument; she died before the ambulance arrived.

An eighteen-year-old friend of the victim's called 911 and agreed to testify, having witnessed the entire incident. Since the boyfriend, who had been picked up a week later on a narcotics charge, refused to testify (even when offered a lesser sentence for the drug position) the prosecutions entire case was resting on only the one witness's testimony.

The defendant, a nineteen-year-old low-level gang member, was well insulated by the gang and had several gang members testifying on his behalf; saying that he was nowhere near the park when the girl died. Fortunately for Kate's case, jury members would be more inclined to believe the tearful girl with the dead friend, then the men with the teardrop tattoos on their face. At least, that's what she explained to Castle. Still, the case wasn't easy.

True, he wrote about murder in every single one of his books, but that was all fantasy. No one had actually died. Sitting in the courtroom, looking at the crime scene pictures of the real dead teenager when her sobbing mother sat just a few seats away broke his heart. He could not even fathom his mental state had the dead girl been Alexis.

Unfortunately for Kate, the case did not go as smoothly as she hoped it would. On the morning she was to testify, the witness did not show up at the courthouse when the trial began. When she came in an hour later, obviously rattled, she informed Kate and her team members she could not testify for the defense. For the first time, Castle was able to see Kate shaken, off her game.

She requested a recess, for the trial to reconvene after lunch, and it was granted. Out in the hall, she implored the girl to give her testimony, but she continued to refuse. She was obligated to take the stand, but she would only say that she had been too far away to see who exactly had killed her friend.

When the girl left, Kate cursed and paced the hallway. It was clear the gang had managed to frighten the witness into backing off her testimony and there was absolutely nothing that could be done. Without the eye-witness, the rest of the case was weak at best. The murder weapon was reported to be a common knife, though the exact blade was never found. The park had no security cameras, and no other witnesses came forward.

After hearing the testimony (or lack thereof) from the only witness, the judge immediately dismissed the case, leaving the alleged killer to celebrate with his lawyers before walking out of the courtroom a free man. Castle could see the fury on Kate's face and felt his own gut begin to churn just watching her. He thought briefly of his original storyline for Patience Thorne—the defense attorney who killed the perpetrators she could not convict through the legal system. Ironically, that exact case would have been a perfect fit for that rejected storyline.

Castle watched Kate leave the courtroom as quickly as she could, stuffing papers and notepads into her bag and then heading directly towards the exit, not even looking him in the eye. He followed several moments later knowing he certainly did not want to get in her way, but he also just wanted to make sure she was alright.

He found her sitting on the courthouse steps, off to one side. She sat with her briefcase tucked between her calves and the step on which she sat, her forearms flat against her thighs and she stared out at the New York City traffic. He walked up behind her, but said nothing.

She did not look behind her but said softly, "You know, Castle, now really isn't a good time. I just need some space."

Still determined to help her, he sat on the step beside her. Folding his hands in his lap he said, "It's not your fault, you know. You did everything you could."

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well, sometimes that's not enough."

"You can't blame yourself. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders but you don't have to." For the first time, she glanced over to him and he continued. "I know it's hard. In fact, I can't even imagine how hard it would be, but I know that blaming yourself won't get you anywhere. You just need to accept that sometimes you win and sometimes you don't and that in the end, things will balance out. Somewhere along the way there will be justice."

He truly believed that, too. Karma, justice, whatever you want to call it. Deep down he believed in it all. If you were a good person, good things would happen to you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. And, to him, the reverse was equally as true.

She ran her teeth over her bottom lip and let out a long, slow breath. "And for this victim's family?"

Castle lowered his chin to his chest. He could hear it in her tone; she didn't need to say it. Somehow he just knew she was talking about more than the victim's family from that day's trial; she was talking about her own family. The man who drove the car that hit her father—that paralyzed her father—had never been convicted. He never let her know that he knew about that case and, to be entirely honest, he didn't think about it often, but he realized then that she did; she thought about it all the time.

"In time," he began, "they'll see that healing is better than hate. Hate won't get you anywhere. At least, not anywhere you want to be."

She glanced over at him and gave him a half smile. "Thanks Castle."

He lifted his hand up and placed it lightly on her shoulder. "Anytime."

At his touch, she looked away, but he did not remove his hand. It took her over a minute, but she briefly lifted up her own hand and placed it on top of his, holding it there as they sat on the concrete steps, watching the city traffic go by.

Six weeks had flown by even faster than Castle thought they could. It felt like the blink of an eye; the exhale of a very long breath. Without a doubt, six weeks had not nearly been enough to fully comprehend the life of the most interesting ADA he'd ever met. But a deal was a deal and while Kate's permafrost had melted in the more recent days, he was concerned that the lawyer in her would enforce the six week expiration date on their contract.

As much as he wanted to bring the subject up so that he could bargain a deal with her, he decided silence was his best course of action. Unfortunately, being silent was one of his weakest qualities. It physically pained him to be quiet, but if it meant the chance of continuing their working relationship, he could manage it. After all, there was a possibility Kate would forget they'd reached the six week deadline. That was probably a one-in-one-million chance, but I was still a chance.

On the Friday at the end of the sixth week, Kate and her team were working on another murder case and preparing for all the depositions that would be taken the following week. When they finished unexpectedly early—at around five in the evening—Castle offered to buy a round of drinks for everyone. He could tell immediately that Kate was not interested in going (he suspected she wanted to stay and continue working), but he hoped the others would peer-pressure her into it. Much to his delight, his plan worked perfectly.

When Kate joined her colleagues at a dingy writer's bar called The Old Haunt she was less than pleased. Actually, that was putting it mildly. The last thing she wanted to do was waste a Friday evening drinking with her coworkers. If she wasn't going to be working (which, in her opinion, she should have been given the great deal of work she had to do the following week) she would have preferred being home in her pjs, but she would play along and be social. At least, for a little while.

She watched as Castle opened a tab at the bar and invited everyone to place their orders. Not in the mood for any drinks involving hard liquor, she chose a white wine, and was on her way towards a booth in the back when a hand at her elbow guided her in a different direction. "No, sit over here," Castle said, pointing her to a different open booth.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"This booth is special," he replied. Then, with his glass of bourbon he gestured towards the wall above them.

Kate followed his gesture and gasped in pleasant surprise. "Oh my god," she exclaimed at an easily decade-old picture of the man across from her. "Is this your booth, Castle?"

"Well, I don't know about my booth, but I did spend a great deal of time here while I was writing my first few novels. When I made it to the New York Times bestseller list I was final allowed to hang my picture on the wall of greats."

"Very nice," she conceded before taking a sip of wine.

Castle made the rounds in the bar, saying hello to some old pals he hadn't seen in a while before rejoining Kate in his booth. "You know," he began, sliding in beside her. "I don't think you ever told me what made you want to become a lawyer?"

She let out a breathy glass and slid her glass back and forth across the table. "Oh, well, both my parents are lawyers, Castle; I don't think I ever really had a choice."

"Did you ever wish you had?"

"No," she answered immediately, then turned her head to look out at the surroundings and noted the volume of people had practically doubled since they'd arrive. "It's getting late so I should probably…"

When she moved to slide out of the bench, he did the same from around the other side. "Right. So…I'll see you Monday?"

For a moment, she paused, finding it interesting that he was choosing not to acknowledge the fact that they'd reached the six week mark—the prearranged expiration date of their agreement. It was ironic, she though, that when their deal began she was joyously awaiting that day. Now, it seemed like just another Friday with no significance whatsoever.

For just a brief second she toyed with the idea of bringing up the agreement if for no other reason than to make him sweat, or to watch as he tried to weasel his way into more time with her (which she knew he would). Had she not been so tired, that would have been entertaining to watch, but she simply was not in the mood. Instead, she offered him a half smile and nodded. "Monday."

With that, she turned to the exit. When she reached the stairs, she turned back and glanced over her shoulder to find he was smiling as he watched her go. She offered a small wave before ascending the stairs, back out to the bustling streets of New York.