Chapter 35: Risin' up to the challenge

In default of anything else to do, and unusually devoid of inspiration (at least by the standards of the last few days), Castle supposes rather reluctantly that he ought to make a start on Dr Burke's exercises. What were they now? Oh yes. Ugh. Why, or why not, to share the letters. That's terrifying. He parks that in a long-stay section. Why Kate wouldn't accept his help, and what she might think of his actions. That's just difficult. He doesn't understand that at all. If he did, they'd be in a very different place. He tries hard not to think about his bedroom, at that. He parks that one in the medium-term lot. Why he couldn't tell Kate how he felt about her actions. Ah. That one's easy. He's done that one, and he's changed his behaviour, and the world has not come to an end. Though he feels he may have avoided apocalypse by the narrowest possible margin. But it worked, he tells himself proudly. So if Dr Burke's advice worked in one area, he ought to do the homework to see if it works elsewhere. Hmm. Letters, or helping? Letters is an easier topic, it just scares him rather more. Letters, then.

He sits and ponders, for a bit, trying to organise his thoughts out of the fog of sheer horror at the thought of Kate reading them. Why should she? He can't think of a good reason yet. That goes back to the long-stay lot. Why shouldn't she? Where to start? Reasons tumble over themselves to get out the parking space. Because he's made some flippant comments that she'll kill him for. Because he's made some comments about taking her to bed which she might also kill him for. Stop avoiding the truth, Rick. Because he's written in words of one syllable how he feels, and she might not feel the same. For all the progress of the last days (and the shattering rows and catharses not withstanding), he still thinks she needs a friend: she's not ready for more. Despite the arms, and the hugs, and the closeness. It's still too early, too raw, too unstable. Because he's exposed all his other feelings: hurt, anger, bitterness, insecurity, cowardice; and he doesn't want her to see the unpleasant side of him. Because it would tell her he'd read her letter. Because she might be hurt, especially that fury-soaked letter when he'd found she'd left, run away again. Because she might leave, if she knows all his secrets, this time for good.

Why should she read them, then? Only one reason occurs to him. Because then she'd know the truth. Because then they'd have a place to stand, on solid ground. No more lies, or misunderstandings, or miscommunications. A place to stand, and someone to stand with.

Perhaps the solution is to let Dr Burke read them. A neutral view. Then he can decide what to do. No need to decide now. None at all.

This time, Kate is looking forward to seeing the boys. There's not likely to be that initial awkwardness, and seeing as she'd solved their case for them (she's still smirking smugly over that) they'll not scruple to tell her all about all the current cases in the hope that the same will happen again. She's looking forward to the shop talk, getting back in the game. And, she thinks, she'll convince Esposito to get her into the range. She ignores the twinge in the pit of her stomach at the thought. Everything's so much better, she can take the next step. She's got this.

She's just a little nervous going back down into the Old Haunt after so long away, and more so when she realises that she's beaten the boys there. Still, she can do this. She's got this. She orders beers for all of them, and some fries to soak up the alcohol. She's a little more susceptible than she used to be – the other night had proved that – and she doesn't want to be embarrassed. Or need taken home.

She's only a few mouthfuls into the beer and fries when Esposito and Ryan come in, sliding into the booth and – just as always – leaving Kate with an open side, where Castle always sat. Will sit, later on, she thinks, and on that note tells them that Castle will show up when his – quote - very boring book party - is all finished, and he'll certainly need a lot of beer.

"So, Ryan, which of your cases do you need me to solve for you this time? Seeing as you couldn't do the last one without me."

"We didn't want to spoil your vacation again. You need a bit of work on your suntan, time to paint your nails, that sort of thing." Esposito snickers as Ryan continues. "You know, pretty yourself up a bit. You don't want to ruin our reputation as sharp-dressed men. Can't be seen around with someone who isn't up to our standards."

Kate doesn't rise to the bait. She looks moderately disbelieving. "Ryan, on the thankfully rare occasions I'm forced to notice a copy of GQ, three piece brown suits and ties, or polyester jumpers, were not part of what the well-dressed man-about-town was wearing. Nor were scruffy T-shirts with medallions, Espo." She pauses for effect. "But I do hear that trendy men wear eyeliner and mascara, so I'll lend you some." She thinks she may have inadvertently killed her team. Both of them seem to be choking on their beer. "Is something wrong?"

Esposito growls. "If you suggest to anyone that I wear make-up" – there's a whole world of contempt for the idea that he might wear make-up in that statement – "I will… I'll… I dunno what I'll do but you – you just watch your back, okay? 'S all I'm sayin'."

"Well, tell me about the precinct and some cases, then. What's this new Captain like now she's been around a while? What else is going on? Karpowski still in love?"

Conversation turns to the precinct and shop-talk. But somehow neither Esposito or Ryan manage to mention that Castle's been banned. It doesn't seem appropriate. No doubt he'll tell Beckett, in due course. No point in them borrowing trouble, when she clearly doesn't know.

By close to half-past nine, beer, fries and precinct gossip, plus discussion of the current cases, has re-established the normal slick, sardonic banter and cop-speak between Kate and her team. She thinks it's a good time to ask Esposito to sneak her into the firing range.

Castle arrives at the booth just in time to hear Kate say, in a tone of superficial confidence overlaying, he thinks, some nervousness, "So, Espo. Tomorrow, c'n you get me into the range and find me a service piece? I need some shooting practice before evaluation." She turns to say hey to Castle just in time to miss the appalled glances that Ryan and Esposito exchange. This is a bad idea is tattooed in luminescent ink across their foreheads. Castle, thankfully, manages to pull on his poker face as Kate looks up. He's equally horrified.

"Beckett, you sure that's whatcha want?"

"Yeah. Gotta get back to the job. Can't do it if I can't shoot straight."

Castle slides into his accustomed place next to Kate and stretches out in the same protective way he'd done last time. This time, Ryan and Esposito don't bat a single eyelash. They're too stunned by Beckett's suggestion to register anything else. This has got to be the worst idea she could have hit them with. Espo can't believe that someone who spooked at a dropped tray only a week ago will be ready to shoot. Ryan, who's actually read up on PTSD, is sure Beckett's pushing too hard. And Castle is terrified that she's going to trigger a whole new set of flashbacks just as bad as the first ones he saw.

The one thing all three men are absolutely certain about is that flatly telling Beckett No won't help anything. Ryan and Esposito don't dare, and Castle, not being a cop, doesn't feel that he has the right. And all of them know that any overt opposition will only make Beckett dig her heels in. Esposito reluctantly acquiesces.

"Okay, Beckett. I'll fix it. Let's set a time." As Kate turns away, Esposito stares meaningfully at Castle, who readily translates that to mean you'd better be around, bro. He mouths in the morning over the top of Kate's head. "I c'n only get you in before lunch. When's good?"

Kate thinks. Dr Burke at nine, finish at ten… "Half past ten. I'll meet you at the range." Castle nods unobtrusively and unnoticed at Esposito. "Don't suppose you can get me my own gun, can you?" It's a little wistful, a little shaky. Castle would never have thought that Kate would miss a particular gun. Then again, that's because he'd never have thought that she'd be without it.

Ryan's still looking very unhappy at the idea. Unfortunately, he isn't hiding it at all, and even more unfortunately, Kate notices. She's still a good detective, even when she's benched.

"Something up, Ryan?"

Ryan gathers up his nerve, sensing disaster in the immediate future whether he answers willingly or not.

"You sure you shouldn't leave this a coupla days, Beckett? You've only been around two weeks." He doesn't say anything about the four weeks she'd been in the city before evaluation.

"Nah, it'll be fine. I'm good."

Ryan opens his mouth again, clearly not convinced.

"I'm good, Ryan. Stop trying to mother-hen me. Save it for Jenny." There's a snap to the last sentence that firmly discourages further comments. But when Kate excuses herself for a few moments there's just time for the three men to agree that this is really, really, not a good plan. It's just that none of them has a practical way of stopping it. And maybe it'll be okay, Castle thinks optimistically. After all, Kate hasn't had a full-on flashback for a few days now, and she's generally much less tense.

Kate firmly changes the subject and nobody is prepared to risk her wrath by changing it back again.

After Kate leaves, though, Ryan's still deeply and vocally unhappy with the plan.

"Why'd you agree, Espo? You could've put it off a day or two."

"Like you can stop Beckett doin' what she thinks she has to," Espo says sarcastically. Seized with the same idea, both cops glare at Castle. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Last time I tried that, you remember, it… didn't go so well." He remembers very vividly being thrown out and told you and I are done. And it hadn't solved a single thing, because Kate had gone straight ahead and done it anyway. "And this is cop business, getting back to the precinct. There's no chance she'll listen to me."

Worried glances are exchanged.

"Can't you just lie," says Ryan despairingly. "Tell her you couldn't find a piece, or something?"

"Then she'll just do it anyway another time and none of us will be there if" – Esposito says if, but they all hear when – "it all goes wrong. You think anyone else is going to get her out of there without the whole precinct knowing if it does go to hell? Castle!" Castle jumps at the sharp tone. "You'd better be watching your phone." No-one says it's you who's gonna be picking up the pieces when it all goes wrong. But everyone hears it, all the same. The remains of the beer is downed in fretful quiet.

"What shall we discuss today, Kate? I had previously asked you to consider why you find it so hard to accept help, but we have not discussed your thoughts on that matter. Perhaps we could start there?"

Kate doesn't want to start there. She doesn't want to go there at all. She wants Dr Burke to tell her that she shouldn't give her letters to Castle, but he isn't mentioning her letters, and she doesn't want to ask because she doesn't want to hear the alternative answer. But Dr Burke seems to know what he's doing. She lays out the conclusions she's reached.

"Mmm. You have talked about emotional support, relating to the current situation, and professional support: essentially teamwork. Have you also considered your need for, and reaction to, support being offered outwith these situations?"

"I don't understand." But she thinks she might. She just doesn't want to.

"More plainly, Kate, what forms of support were you offered to cope with the circumstances surrounding the death of your mother, either at the time or subsequently? How did you react to these offers?" As she'd suspected.

"I didn't want external support. I coped, at the time. Then when I became a cop I couldn't find her killer. I still can't, but that's why someone shot me. So I'm not looking right now. I don't need shot again. There haven't been any offers – oh." She stops. Dr Burke is immediately forcibly reminded of exactly how Mr Castle had stopped when required to consider the same situation. It appears that the nexus between them relates to Detective Beckett's mother, and her murder. He deduces that Mr Castle had attempted to assist Detective Beckett with that investigation. He further deduces that Detective Beckett had rebuffed Mr Castle's efforts, almost certainly with considerable emphasis. Mmm. Yet more conflict.

Dr Burke waits to see whether Detective Beckett will expand on her statement.

"There haven't been any offers of help," she says slowly. "But Castle decided to try to solve it. Or "help"." The quotation marks around help are audible. "That was two years ago. He didn't ask me if he could. I'd told him not to meddle. He did, anyway. He never leaves anything alone. He never backs off. He doesn't know when to stop. " Ah. Dr Burke understands considerably more about why Mr Castle had refused to comment. "It wasn't up to him to decide to get involved. He was just showing off, trying to prove he could be a detective. Succeeding at something I couldn't."

"And what did you do when you found out?"

"Walked away. Told him not to come back. He was just messing with my life. It was just another story."

"But he came back?" Dr Burke begins to see the genesis of this pattern of dysfunction.

"Yes."

"Kate, would you explain to me, please, before we continue, how Mr Castle came to follow you at your work? I do not think you have ever mentioned this?"

"There was a series of murders, based on his books. We brought him in for questioning. And then he got the Mayor to force the Captain" – she doesn't name him, too painful even now – "to let him follow me around for inspiration. He'd thought up a whole new character – Nikki Heat – based on that interrogation. I didn't want him following me. He was annoying."

"Annoying?"

"All he did was flirt, and make stupid suggestions. I wasn't interested in a dilettante playboy."

Ah. Dr Burke would suggest considering the concept of playing hard to get, except that it is plain that Detective Beckett was not playing. Or at least, she believes she was not playing. Subconsciously, Dr Burke thinks, may have been a very different matter. If she had been, this would be easier, though much less interesting.

"But then he started to be useful. Sometimes. So we managed to work together. Mostly."

Mmm. Mr Castle forced his way into Detective Beckett's working life, undoubtedly based on immediate, if superficial, attraction. It appears to Dr Burke that, as his feelings for Detective Beckett have become considerably more serious, Mr Castle has been atoning for that action ever since, by allowing Detective Beckett to act precisely as she wished in relation to him without feeling able to express an opposing view. In short, Mr Castle has been acting out of fear that Detective Beckett would find a reason, or a method, to remove him, and in doing so conflict avoidance had become the pattern of behaviour that Dr Burke has already discussed with Mr Castle.

It is likely to be true that Detective Beckett would have taken any reasonable opportunity to remove Mr Castle early in their acquaintance, although Dr Burke suspects that Detective Beckett was also attracted, even then. It is extremely unlikely that she would have done so in the relatively recent past. Given what Detective Beckett had told Dr Burke about their extended argument some days ago, it appears that Mr Castle has now decided that either Detective Beckett will not choose to remove him from her life should he disagree with her or, that if she does try to withdraw from him for a time, he will not permit that state of affairs to continue without some resolution. Progress is clearly being made, whichever of those possibilities is being pursued.

"Kate, you have said that Mr Castle interfered in your mother's case two years ago. I want you to consider, without preconceptions, whether you would have the same reaction if he offered the same help now."

"Yes," snaps Kate automatically. "I did. Right before the summer. He tried to tell me to stop. It's nothing to do with him. He can't tell me what to do about my mother's case."

Dr Burke does not say anything for a moment. That was not a reaction he had anticipated. Clearly Detective Beckett has not dealt with the combined psychological impact of both her mother's death and her lack of any support at that time. It appears that Detective Beckett is not presently able to consider accepting any help relating to that trauma. He sees why this event is a source of such conflict between his patients. One wishes to deal with it completely alone, and one wishes to help. Both of them are angry with the other when these irreconcilable positions come into conflict. He will have to consider the appropriate exercises to resolve this, on both their parts. However, Dr Burke is clear that the correct initial exercise to set, for both of them, will involve detailed consideration of the difference between help and control. That is likely to take them each time.

"Kate, before our next session I would like you to consider two areas: one, why Mr Castle would interfere in a matter as important to you as your mother's case if he was, as you put it, a dilettante playboy; and two, the difference between offers of help and attempts to control behaviour." He passes back an envelope. "Here are your letters. I have kept copies so that I may consider them with care. We will discuss them at a future session, if you so wish." Dr Burke will certainly discuss these letters with Detective Beckett. They had been fascinating.

Kate takes her envelope and leaves. She'll have to hurry getting home to drop that off – there is no way she's taking it with her – and get to the range.

Apologies, I failed to save the changes. Thank you to all the reviewers guest and logged in. Next Chapter Thursday.