He's Dead, She's Dead & Under The Gun
Twelve forty seven a.m.
Kate squinted at the corner of her computer screen, forced her eyes to focus on the tiny numbers. Yep. That's really what it said. After midnight. Which meant she'd been here for eighteen hours straight, taken only a short break for lunch. Hell of a day.
Kate scrubbed a tired hand across her face, leaned wearily against the back of her chair. She was exhausted and Ryan and Esposito looked haggard as well. But this was a high-profile case and Gates had made it very clear that it was to be solved quickly and without any loose ends.
Hence the late night at the precinct.
Kate scanned the listings on her computer again, willing her eyes to read just a little clearer. She had to be missing something.
Ryan and Esposito were at their desks, surrounded by piles of financials and phone records, searching through them with a fine-toothed comb for the third time. So far, all three of them had come up empty.
The ding of the elevator echoed through the silence, causing all three detectives to nearly jump out of their chairs in surprise. Ryan and Esposito glanced up, offered a tired wave before turning back to their paperwork, but Kate lifted bleary eyes to find Castle walking towards her, coffee cup in one hand, something else in the other, a tired smile in his eyes.
He wordlessly leaned over to set the coffee on her desk, sank into his chair. She could see the disappointment in his eyes because she'd promised to be home by ten and that was almost three hours ago. But she also saw the understanding because though they'd reached an agreement about priorities and family time, he also knew there was the occasional case that required long hours, and for those he'd make an exception. He knew how much her job meant to her. How much it'd come to mean to him as well.
"Thanks," she said softly, taking a long swig of the liquid, feeling the caffeine seep through her veins. She was so far past tired by now she wasn't sure how much it would help. But it was the thought that counted.
He nodded, leaned back and crossed his left ankle over his right knee, eyes still fixed on her.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, watched his features soften at her words.
"It's okay," he assured her, reaching out to cover her hand on her desk. "I understand."
And he did, because he was amazing, but she still felt bad about it. About leaving him alone, breaking her promise.
"Take a break for a bit?"
She wanted to protest, wanted to keep plugging away despite the futility of her efforts. But he'd shown up in the middle of the night with coffee and she was really in no state to turn him down.
"Sure."
He reached out a hand and she took it without hesitation, allowed him to pull her to her feet. She snatched up her coffee at the last minute, took another sip as she began to follow him across the bullpen, into the break room and onto the couch.
He guided her into his lap and she went easily, toeing off her heels and curling up against him. She wrapped an arm around his torso, held on tightly, and Castle dropped a kiss on the top of her head in response. It wasn't often that physical contact occurred at the precinct but it was late and she was tired and Gates was gone. And it wasn't as though anyone else would protest if they happened to walk into the room to see them curled up on the sofa.
Kate clung to her coffee cup like a lifeline as she settled in, but Castle maneuvered around to slide it from her hands, set it on the table. As he righted himself, he pulled out their journal, lifted it and began thumbing through the pages.
"You brought it?" she asked softly.
He nodded, flipped one more page and slipped the bookmark to the back, out of the way.
"Thought it might help," he said quietly.
She hummed in agreement, and Castle's right hand wove into her hair, guided her head down against his chest.
"Close your eyes," he urged gently. "I'll read."
Dear Kate,
I guess it shouldn't really surprise me that you don't believe in fate and magic and things of the sort. Given your past, I can understand why you feel the way you do. And I realize there's probably very little I can do to change your mind, but I'm going to try because I care about you, and I want you to see that despite your mother's death, there's still magic in the world. And there can still be magic in your life, too.
There is so much beauty in the unknown, in the things that happen without a tangible reason. I wish that you could see that, feel it, experience it. I wish you'd had a few more years of believing in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and monsters under your bed. I wish you hadn't had the innocence stolen from your life at nineteen. I wish you'd been able to hang onto that, not have your illusions shattered.
That's why I'm writing this, to help you put them back together again. To help you believe.
I know it can be scary, handing over your control to something that you can't see or physically prove even exists. But you have to just trust me on this... take a step back sometime and just let the powers that be take over. Let it be and see what happens. After all, everything worthwhile begins by taking a terrifying leap. Who knows what might become of this if you give it a chance?
Sometimes I have to convince myself of this too, you know. I still struggle with it at times. I know that compared to you my life hasn't been all that difficult. But I've had my own trials and difficulties and sometimes it's hard to see past all of that. It's hard to see the bigger picture.
For example: I've been divorced. Twice. And there are so many different scenarios that could have played out if something had gone differently. If my first marriage hadn't fallen apart, Alexis might have a sibling. If the second one had lasted, who knows what would've happened. And for the longest time, I regretted what I hadn't accomplished, regretted what could have been.
In retrospect, it's all so much clearer now. The bigger picture. I'd probably still have met you, but things wouldn't be the same between us if I'd still been married. I may not have stuck around, and I certainly wouldn't have kept coming back simply because I had a crush on you.
Big picture. At the time it all seemed so unfair, but now I wouldn't trade it for a thing. Not when it means I get to spend my days with you.
I know you'd say it's all just coincidence that you were on that case and crashed my party, that I decided to shadow you and stick around. But I think there was something more involved. It was like the universe knew I was blocked, in need of inspiration. And then you walked into my life and turned everything upside down. Coincidence? I think not.
If you're reading this, you're probably rolling your eyes right now. You're probably about to tell me I'm ridiculous for even thinking such things. But I firmly believe it, Kate. You walked into my life for a reason, and I'm still not entirely sure the full extent of it, but I truly believe that more lies ahead for us.
One of these days, maybe we'll have an opportunity to find out.
And one of these days, I'm going to convince you to believe in magic.
-Castle
By the time he finished reading, her body was limp, breathing deep and slow. He set the notebook aside, wrapped his other arm around her and held her closer. She breathed him in deeply, raised an arm to cling to his bicep, and it was only that which let him know she was still awake.
"Keep going," she murmured, and though Castle would've loved to talk about this letter with her, see if she was any closer now – because at times, he thought she almost believed – this wasn't the time. And if reading more was what it took to relax her, make her take a break from work, then he'd keep going all night long.
"Okay," he whispered, flipped the page.
She re-situated on his lap, curled her hand into the collar of his shirt. Tonight, she just wanted to lose herself in him and his warmth and his words and the soft resonance of his voice.
Tomorrow, she'd tell him exactly how much this meant to her.
Dear Kate,
Sometimes you make me dread having a teenage daughter, especially when you tell me stories of Harleys and black leather and wild child phases. My daughter is so not becoming that type of girl. No way. I don't care if you say every girl goes through it. There's no way Alexis would wear leather and do... well, who knows what else you did. She'd never do that. You probably disagree, but I'm her father and I know she's not having a wild child phase. I refuse to even consider the possibility.
Now that I'm thinking about it, you as a teenager is a scary thought. And now you've got me scared that it's going to happen with Alexis. Women and their wily, manipulative powers always seem to find a way to mess with my head. And thanks to you, I'm becoming paranoid.
No. Absolutely not. Teenage Alexis is not going to be like teenage Kate, no matter how much I think I'd have enjoyed hanging out with teenage Kate.
But then you turn around and do something incredible, and it makes me want her to become exactly the type of woman you are. Confident. Strong, yet not afraid to be vulnerable at times. Someone who always stands up for what's right, even if it's not popular. And the layers of your heart and mind, your ability to forgive; I learn something new about you every day and it always blows me away. I want my daughter to be like that, too.
Maybe there's a way for her to turn out like you without going through the wild child phase in the interim.
Either way, I'd never wish upon her what you've been through these last couple days. No one deserves that, especially not someone like you, who spends every day fighting for what's right and good in a world that's wronged you in the worst way possible.
You said it was for a trace, but I know you weren't lying on the phone, Kate. I could see in the way you looked at him that there were feelings there; feelings that'd been deeply hurt at some point in the past. I could tell you were in pain, that you wanted to cry. And I just wanted to wrap you in my arms and take it all away, even though I know it doesn't work that way.
One person should never have to suffer so much betrayal. I hate how many people have betrayed you, let you down. I hate that it's damaged your trust, your faith in people. I hate that you have to carry it with you every day, when it's a burden no one should ever have to bear. I hate that I can't take it away from you, no matter what I do.
And I know I've hurt you in the past, betrayed your trust, but I hope I never end up causing you as much pain as you felt these last couple of days.
I hope that one day I can make you smile and forget about all of that.
One day...
-Castle
"You do," she murmured as he finished reading, lifted heavy eyes to his.
He gazed at her with curious eyes, silent plea for an explanation.
"Make me smile," she continued, voice low in the muted light. "Make me forget."
He hugged her tighter, breathed her in. "I'm glad."
She buried her face back into his shirt, still exhausted but much more at ease now. Less tense, less stressed.
"Me too."
Thoughts?
