Hello everyone! Here's another chapter of Phobophobia! It feels like it's been forever since I updated this... I guess that's what happens when you live with a roommate and you can't do your normal "Write until 3 in the morning" spiel.
A warning: I think I might like this one... but it may not be realistic. It also is probably full of mistakes. I'm submitting this unedited because it is almost 3 in the morning... and I have to get up in the morning. I'll go back and look at it sometime tomorrow (hopefully) but I wanted to get this out to all you insomniacs and people where it's still daylight (:
Pharmacophobia – The fear of addiction.
If you asked Richard Castle to make a list of things he had never done before, that list would more than likely consist of ridiculous things that no one would ever think of doing in the first place; I've never had sex on the back of an elephant; I've never done a handstand on the top of Mt. Everest; I've never done a one-footed back flip into a tank of Great White Sharks in South Africa.
That's just the writer in him.
In reality, there were a lot of things in life that Rick Castle had never gotten the chance to do that he desperately wanted to; He'd never been married long enough to have a Crystal wedding anniversary; he'd never had a son; he'd never written a book good enough to win an Edgar Allan Poe Award.
The list of things he'd never done before could go on for miles. He wanted to feel every possible emotion on the human spectrum, from the deepest depression to the most wonderful euphoria a man has ever felt. He wanted all those experiences, even if the events and actions that lead up to them are less than desirable.
For instance, Rick had succeeded in feeling absolutely helpless, but having Kate nearly die in his arms in the freezer and again at Montgomery's funeral was something he hoped would never happen again. He had felt complete emotional turmoil, but he hoped he'd never have to deal with being so completely torn between the love he had for his detective and his complete devotion towards the happiness of his daughter, because heaven knows that he couldn't survive without either of them.
However, there were certain things on Rick's list of "Never Have I Evers" that he had no intention of ever trying. He had never written and published anything that purposefully and explicitly brought to light a person in his life who had less than wonderful qualities; he had never slandered anyone in his books. He had never let the press print any rumors about his mother or daughter. Rick had never hit a woman. And Rick Castle had never cheated on someone while he was in a relationship.
Even then, there was one thing near the very top of his list of things he'd never do that was something he swore he would never do. When people found out, they were usually surprised. After all, it wasn't something that most people could say they've never experimented with. Everyone was curious, after all.
Rick Castle had never abused drugs, and he never would. He had never tried anything, he'd never smoked, and he had absolutely no intention to ever start. He had been known to have a drink every now and again, but since that experience with the Police horse in Spring, he had never had more than one or two before cutting himself off.
For one, there were the obvious health risks involved. Smoking accounts for nearly 86% of lung cancer patients and the survival statistics are even more frightening. Alcoholics have to deal with the risk of fatal Liver Failure and Cirrhosis. And all of the hard, illegal drugs were laced with so many unknown substances that it wasn't worth the risk.
Rick was not willing to risk his life for a kick. Rick was not about to tear himself away from his family for eternity just for a momentary high.
It just wasn't worth it.
And for most of his life, he had stood by his convictions. He had never experimented with drugs, never even gave them a consideration in his mind. Nothing was worth giving up his life unless it was to save the lives of his mother and daughter.
He hadn't expected addiction to come in another, completely unexpected form.
Even the finest bottle of Scotch held nothing on the allure of a certain female Detective whom the writer had become so enamored with.
The only way to adequately describe his relationship with the detective was that Rick Castle was indeed addicted to Kate Beckett. He was addicted to her scent; the sweet smell of cherries that was subtle and gently caressed his nose every time she shifted in her seat or flipped her hair unconsciously over her shoulder. He was addicted to the electric charge he felt when her fingers touched his as he handed over her coffee every morning; the way her sinfully smooth skin set the nerve endings in his fingertips ablaze. He was addicted to every single one of her smiles; the sound of her laugh; the way her eyes shined when her mouth was so desperately fighting the urge to grin. He was addicted to the way her mind worked, her quick thinking, and the impressive retorts she always seemed to have positioned on the tip of her tongue. He was addicted to her strength; the control she had over her suspects and the way she channeled her struggles into a battle for those who found themselves in situations similar to herself.
And he had tried to fight it. He honestly had. Rick tried to convince himself that the obsession he had with Kate Beckett was just a passing fancy; that the overwhelming desire he had to be near her would fade in time. But he was wrong. The more time he spent with her the more he wanted to be around her. He could spend 24 hours a day with her and he still wanted more. He was selfish when it came to her; he didn't want to share her with anyone. His happiness was completely contingent on her happiness; if she was angry or upset, his emotions mirrored hers. He was hyper-actively aware of everything about her. He could read her like an open book, but he still wanted more. He needed her. He wasn't sure if he would be able to function anymore without his daily dose of Kate.
Just like any other drug, Rick was addicted by the way being with Kate made him feel. She made him feel like he was insignificant and the most important person in the world simultaneously. He felt like a schoolboy with his first crush, yet wanted to treat her the way only a grown man could. She made him want to be a better father, a better man. Kate made him want to be someone who she could be proud of. He glowed when she thanked him for even the smallest things. His heart raced whenever she was near. He wanted to write her endless of pages of poetry and love letters, sealed with kisses and promises of forever and the bitter sting of gunpowder. With Kate, he felt unstoppable, like he could jump from the top of the Statue of Liberty and cannonball safely into the water below.
It was then that he had realized that Detective Katherine Beckett was far more dangerous than any drug he could ever try.
The way Kate made him feel made him feel like a hero. He did things he would've never done before if it hadn't been for Kate's constant presence in his veins. He's risked his life too many times to claim that it was luck anymore. He was running out of lives. He was running headfirst off a cliff with scissors in both hands because she made him feel like he could. He would of his own fingers if it meant keeping her with him forever.
He wondered if it was possible to overdose on the affection of a beautiful woman.
He decided that there would be no better way to die.
Those thoughts scared him.
He was had told himself that he was never going to become another statistic, that he was never going to succumb to addiction. He was stronger than that. He needed to be there for his daughter. He couldn't allow himself to fall under the spell of something that he couldn't control.
Yet here he was, sitting in his office in the dark with a small smile on his face, thinking about how Kate had put her hand on his arm and threw her head back with unrestrained laughter at something he had said today while they were getting coffee in the break room. And he could stop thinking about the fact that in that moment, the world could've came crashing around him and he wouldn't have minded, because the sound of her laugh was the most beautiful music he had ever heard and the sight of her elegant neck had made him swallow a little harder than before. His heart had started beating so hard in his chest that he was sure she would be able to feel it through the fingers she had placed on his bicep. But she didn't notice and when she looked back at him with moisture in her eyes from her laughter, he had to fight hard to restrain his grin from taking over his face.
Here in the comfort of his office though, he could not have stopped his grin if he wanted to. He smiled into the darkness, his eyes unfocused on the bookshelf in front of him as he thought about how free she had looked in that moment and the fact that he was the one to cause it.
A thought fluttered through his head.
Kate Beckett was a habit he was never going to be able to kick.
His smile grew wider.
But why would he want to?
I took some liberties with this one. Pharmacophobia is actually the fear of addiction to prescription drugs/taking prescription medication. Their is no defined phobia for addiction... but this idea has been floating around in my head since I wrote a line in "Thank You for Being Here."
Whatevs... like you care.
As always: Love it? Hate it? Are these getting boring? Let me know what you think (: