Perseverance
Castle & Beckett try to make their way through a very different world. AU.
ONE
"Oh man, I still can't get over it – we were so in sync, Beckett!" Detective Richard Rodgers gushed as he unlocked the door to their dormitory room, jammed the keys back into his pants pockets so he didn't lose them, and then spun around to continue to gloat towards his partner. "So in sync!"
"I know; I was there."
Rick clicked his tongue with annoyance at Beckett's flat tone. "Then why aren't you more excited about this?!"
Beckett shrugged his left shoulder. "I'm happy we won."
Rick let out a growl of disbelief. "We didn't just win – we obliterated the competition!"
Beckett arched a skeptical eyebrow. "You mean: our coworkers."
With a determined stare rivaling those about to storm the beaches of Normandy, he replied, "The 45th precinct does not have coworkers; it has enemies."
"Rodgers!"
"In the context of this weekend," he added upon his partner's scolding.
"The team building weekend?"
"In the context of this game," Rick relented and finally received an approving nod from Beckett.
For many years, the NYPD had hosted a team building event in July for some of its best detectives. Each year, detectives were chosen at random to attend the event. Rick had gone two years prior, back when he was partnered with a man long past his prime, looking to coast until retirement. As such, he only griped about the weekend away, forced to sleep in college dormitories and participate in oh-so-many group events. Due to the elder man's sour attitude, Rick had not enjoyed his time in the least. Despite that, he was excited when he and Beckett received their invitations to the event six weeks prior.
Unlike his old partner, Beckett was sharp and dedicated. He treated every one of their cases like it was the most important one and Rick respected him for that. They had been paired up for just shy of a year and a half and in that time had built quite a rapport with each other—as evident by their win that afternoon.
"C'mon, c'mon." Rick smacked his partner's shoulder playfully with the back of his hand. "We won the partners matchup game—by a twenty-point margin! We have to celebrate that—we have to Beckett."
Beckett sighed, resigned. Then said, "After I use the bathroom."
Rick waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, do what you need to."
As the bathroom door clicked shut, Rick wandered his way over to the only window in their room, which was a narrow slice of glass barely wider than the width of his hand and about two feet high. Dusk was beginning to fall outside, but it was still light enough for him to see the other officers milling about in the courtyard four stories below them. He slid his hands into his pockets as he gazed down, watching them laugh and give each other back slaps. He rocked back on his heels, anxious to get back down to the group setting so they could gloat a little bit more.
The grin returning to his face, Rick turned away from the window and gazed back towards where his partner was in the insufficiently sized in-room bathroom. Though he'd known for over a year just how well they worked together, Rick truly was impressed by how well things had come together for them during the competition. True, it was a bit of luck that the questions asked during the police code trivia portion just happened to be ones Beckett knew the answer to straight away. And, yes, it was convenient that one of the more in-depth portions of the case section of the challenge was nearly identical to a case they had closed just three weeks prior. Still, the way they worked together so seamlessly felt almost otherworldly.
Rick remembered the very first day he met the newly anointed Detective James Beckett. He'd mistaken him for a new academy graduate and actually laughed out loud when Beckett corrected him and said he was beginning his tenure as a detective at the Twelfth Precinct. Compared to the partner he'd had for two years, Beckett seemed greener than a frog—at least, at first blush. Rick had not been sad at all that his partner retired, but was a bit taken aback when his new one had only passed the detective's exam a few weeks prior—and at an unusually young age to boot. He'd been annoyed, expecting someone with a little more experience under their belt, but Captain Montgomery had assured him that a new detective replacing a retiring one in a partnership was just the way the NYPD was operating at that time.
Not one to have a negative attitude for long, Rick threw himself a pity party for a day, but then picked himself up by the bootstraps and decided to treat Beckett like the kid brother he never had. He'd had a little more than two years as a detective by that point, so he could guide a new detective to success. As it turned out, though, Beckett hadn't needed much guidance. His instincts were good, his fortitude unmatched, and he seemed to know the law like it was tattooed across every inch of his skin. That last point was the only one that seemed to cause them some tension at first, for Beckett was very by-the-book and Rick preferred to be a bit more…flexible. After a few months together, they were able to find a happy medium that worked for both of them—at least, in most instances.
As time wore on, Rick found himself thinking of Beckett as not just a colleague or younger brother, but a good friend as well. With many of their coworkers living together as roommates or in large, shared apartment complexes, the men often socialized together even after their shifts ended. Through these interactions, Rick learned that Beckett was a pretty private person who didn't share very much, but he was one hell of a card player. They'd spend hours around the poker table with friendly betting only and Beckett seemed to always find himself with the most chips at the end of the day. Rick considered himself to be a pretty decent player as well and he'd picked up on many tells from his other coworkers, but Beckett remained a mystery, which made him even more fun to play with.
Somewhere around their tenth month of partnership was when Rick felt they truly hit their stride together. Their inseverable bond unfortunately came as the result of a rather terrifying incident when they were nearly trapped in a burning building. The situation could not have been more harrowing and had ended up resulting in the death of an officer from their precinct, but the two of them had made it out and from that point on had been even more connected to the point where they almost didn't even need to speak when going into tense situations. Rick already knew how Beckett would react and approach most situations, and he knew Beckett felt similarly about him.
When it came to that afternoon's challenge, Rick felt confident that they would come out near the top of the ranks, but they had stiff competition. Many other precinct's top partner teams were in the mix and equally competitive, but the two of them had come out on top with a comfortable margin. Maybe, Rick mused, they were extra in sync after sleeping in bunk beds for two nights. Perhaps that would be the key to elevating their already high case closure rate: they just needed to live together.
"Bathrooms free if you want it."
Beckett's comment pulled Rick from his thoughts and felt another rush of joy wash over him when his gaze met the younger man's caramel-brown eyes. "Oh man Beckett—I was just thinking about earlier and how on fire we were. We're usually pretty in-sync but this was like…telepathy or something!"
Beckett arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you're telepathic now?"
"No! I was just thinking how—how we had a connection…" Rick's voice trailed off at the end of the word as it had come out of his mouth without realizing, but somehow saying it out loud made him realize it intently, as though he'd never thought of the concept before. He didn't exactly believe in telepathy, but there was something between them; he was sure of it. "We do have a connection, don't we?"
"What?" Beckett asked, his voice quiet.
"A connection. A vibe. I don't know how to describe it; I've certainly never felt it before. I've been partnered up before—with a few different guys—but I never… what's wrong?" he asked when a peculiar expression crossed Beckett's face.
"Nothing," Beckett said quickly. Then he brought his hand up to rub across the back of his neck. "Just um…a bit sore. Must have slept wrong last night…"
Rick felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He didn't want to upset his partner, but something in his gut told him that he needed to continue their conversation, as there was something larger brewing. "Beckett. You feel it too, don't you? This connection."
Beckett turned his back to Rick for a moment, and when he turned around, he had his arms folded across his chest. "I… I know this isn't a good time to tell you, but I should be honest: I'm transferring."
Rick could not have felt more stunned if the ceiling had come crashing down around his shoulders at that very moment. "What?"
"I'm tr-"
"I heard you," Rick interrupted, his tone weak with disbelief, "but I don't understand. Is this because of what I just said?"
Beckett shook his head. "No, no—I've been thinking about it for a while. It's just…time."
"What does that mean? What's time?"
"Time to move on."
Rick's brow wrinkled at this cryptic comment. "Move on? What the hell are you talking about? What are you moving on from?"
Beckett shook his head and rotated his body away, mumbling. "I just need a change."
"To what? Our precinct has the best case-closure rate in the five boroughs. Why the hell would you leave that behind?"
"Because I have to," Beckett said, his tone sharper.
"What does that mean?"
"It means what it means."
Annoyed at such a childish response, Rick took two steps forward and placed his hand on Beckett's shoulder, trying to get him to look at him. "That's not an answer. James."
"Stop," Beckett groused, rolling his shoulder to shake off Rick's hand, but his grip remained firm.
"James, talk to me. Is it something personal? You can tell me. Or did—did I do something?" Rick felt his stomach roll over in his gut that he could have done something to upset his partner. Truly, he did not know what that thing could have been. Up until five minutes prior Rick had thought their partnership was better than ever. He'd seen Beckett's proud smile when the final scores were announced for the game; he had not seemed like a man conflicted in that moment, nor had he at any other point during their weekend together.
"No; it's not you."
"Then what is it? James?"
"Stop!" Beckett forced himself away from Rick, holding up his hands with palms out to keep him at a distance. "Stop saying that."
"What? Your name?" Rick guessed. He nearly always used Beckett's last name when referring to him—as did most men they worked with—but this was a moment he felt warranted more familiarity as he was just trying to get to the bottom of what the hell was going on.
Evading his gaze, Beckett muttered, "It's not my name."
"Not your name?" Rick echoed with confusion. "What is your name?"
Beckett lifted his gaze to meet Rick's and Rick could see the welling of tears that made him swallow reflexively and the prickling hairs at the back of his neck return. For five seconds they merely stared at one another, and then Beckett whispered, "It's Kate."
Once again, Rick felt as though the building may have been falling down around him, only this time he also felt as though he had been assaulted by a deluge of ice water. He took a half-stumbling step backwards and blinked, but in that split second he—she?—turned away from him, as though the words had never been spoken at all. Yet, they had been.
Rick stuttered out a breath as he stared at the back of his partner. Beckett wore the same gray NYPD t-shirt as he. The shirt was slightly more form-fitting than the usual button-downs Beckett wore day-to-day at their job. Could it be that Rick was seeing the slightest hint of a narrowed waist before widening hips that might indicate a female form? Or was he merely hallucinating? With such limited oxygen hitting his brain, it was hard to tell.
He took in a few more deep breaths, almost hyperventilating at that point. Kate. Rick was sure he had heard the name correctly. Kate was a distinctly female name, though he'd never known anyone by that moniker. In fact, he hadn't known very many women at all. Kate—if Beckett truly was a "Kate"—would be one of the only one he interacted with regularly.
Starting several decades before his birth, the rate of female to male births began to drop. At first almost imperceptibly, but then the drop off became swift, such that at present only one female was born for every forty male babies. Understandably, this was a crisis of untold proportions. As such, many women of childbearing age were housed in dormitories where they produced children under government-supervised methods. Some younger women, generally those born to families that had been wealthy for generations, existed out in the world, but they were few and far between. Mostly, the only women one saw out-and-about were in their fifties or older, and even then, such sighting were becoming increasingly less common. Because of this, men generally lived communally, since being able to marry one of those select few available women was not generally an opportunity presented to the masses.
As Rick's brain continued to spin in response to the earth-shattering news he had just received, his thoughts were interrupted by an impatient pounding on their dormitory door.
"Yo? You guys in there?"
"Yeah, just a second," he heard Beckett respond. Then, a moment later, after sounds of the door unlatching, he heard Beckett say, "Hey guys!" in as cheerful and casual a tone as he'd ever heard—like he hadn't just delivered news that would change absolutely everything.
"Are you coming out for those beers we owe you?"
"Oh yeah, definitely."
"Rodgers? Yo, Rodgers!"
"Wha? Oh!" At the call of one of his colleagues, Detective Esposito, Rick dragged his thoughts back to the present and gave a distracted nod. "Yeah, um, yeah; I'll be right there." With that, he stepped into the small bathroom, closed the door behind him, and attempted to bring his focus onto emptying his bladder instead of on his partner, who was evidently even more mysterious than he ever imagined.
"Well, I think I'm going to call it a night." Beckett announced, pushing herself away from the bar and taking a step back from her colleagues, indicating her intent to return to her room.
Ryan, Esposito, and two others groaned and jeered at her. "Psst you collect the grand prize of the weekend and you don't stay up long enough for us to roast you about it? Not cool Beckett."
She gave them a wry smile. "Sorry to disappoint, but something tells me you won't soon be letting it go."
"That's true," Espo continued, "This has got at least two or three weeks of life left in it."
"I'm sure." Beckett then bid goodnight to the group, stuffed her hands down into her pockets, and made her way out of the crowded bar. It wasn't until she was out on the street that she realized her partner was following her. He had been largely silent that evening—a huge departure from his typical larger-than-life personality—not that she didn't understand why. Still, she'd hoped he'd stay with the group so she could get directly in bed and pretend to be asleep when he finally returned to their room. By doing that she would have avoided whatever awkwardness came as a result of her idiotic confession a few hours earlier. Unfortunately, it seemed that hope would not come to fruition, for he was on her heels for the entire mile they walked back to the dorms.
Beckett stepped inside the elevator car, pushed the button for the appropriate floor, and then leaned back against the side of the car. Rick stood opposite her, his eyes never leaving her face. As the car began to ascend, Beckett could take the silence no longer and commented, "The staring is getting creepy, Rodgers."
"Should have thought of that before you told me," he rasped out.
She shot him challenging look. "I didn't tell you anything."
He shook his head. "No. No way. We're not going to do that."
As Beckett had intentions to do exactly that, she hopped out of the elevator car at the first opportunity without looking back. She walked hurriedly down the hall towards their room, not entirely sure why; he obviously had to follow her inside regardless of the speed she moved at. She fumbled with the door key for several moments, but then whipped it open and hurried inside, considering hiding in the bathroom, but Rick caught up to her before she could. Grabbing her left arm he said insistently, "Beckett c'mon."
"No." She responded, staring him down. "You have to forget because I have to."
"What does that mean?"
"James Beckett if who I've been since I was five months old when my twin sister Kate died."
Rick took a step back, his face notably indicating confusion. "I don't understand…"
"My mother…my mother was enrolled in a clinical trial to increase fertility and it resulted in her having a twin pregnancy, but one of the babies was always smaller than the other—smaller, frailer. After birth, things seemed to be going well, until one night the baby stopped breathing unexpectedly and, despite her grief, my mother saw it as an opportunity to give me a chance at having a life. Choices. Opportunities."
Of course, in truth, it was the male baby who was the frail one, a true rarity in that time as it was generally the female babies who failed to thrive. She had always been the strong one, though, and somehow her mother knew that strength would carry her through an amazing life—but she would only get that opportunity if she could live as her brother.
Appearing mildly horrified, Rick said, "But that wasn't your choice."
"No, but I'm grateful for it. I wouldn't have this life if she hadn't done that. I'd be…in one of those facilities where women live like cattle."
Rick swallowed hard and gazed at her for several moments, considering. "You've never lived as a woman?"
Shaking her head she said, "I'm not a woman; I never was."
"But-"
"No buts!" her interruption was harsh, and it made him press his lips tightly together. "You just need to forget about it for a few weeks until I can transfer. Then you…you can forget all about me."
She nearly choked on the words, but she had to say them. In her mind, no other option existed. Not after…not after that afternoon. Not after they'd been so wildly praised and celebrated. Not after he'd celebrated their win by sweeping her into an embrace she never wanted to let go of…
Rick began to look rather ill. "Forget about you? I…I couldn't. I don't want to. I—I just don't understand, Beckett, why-"
"You don't have to understand."
"But I want to understand. Why are you transferring?"
"Because I have to."
"Why? That's not a reason!"
Frustrated, she turned her back to him and began to pace the small area in front of their bunkbed. "I shouldn't have even stayed this long. When I joined the force, I promised myself I would never stay in one precinct for longer than a year—maybe not even that long. I had to keep moving so no one would get suspicious, but…" Her voice trailed off and she tentatively looked over her shoulder where he stood looking exceptionally disappointed. "I…I like being partners with you. But that's also why I have to leave."
"That doesn't make any sense," he said with notable annoyance. When, after several moments she had not responded, he said, "Kate," and reached out his hand towards her.
"Don't," she responded, side-stepping his grasp.
"You can tell me." His tone softened as he took a few steps towards her. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. It can't possibly be more shocking than the real reason you won't join us in the showers after shift."
Despite the anxiety clawing at her chest, a bubble of laughter escaped her lips. Side-stepping the almost cult-like routine of "washing off the shift" that nearly all her coworkers participated in was one of her trickiest tasks as a woman pretending to be a man. Not only was it something she had to dodge entirely, but it was also a problem that came up literally almost every day. Despite this reminder of her least favorite moment of every workday, she was mildly impressed that her partner had his wits about him enough to make a joke.
"You seem to be handling this news quite well, actually."
"Oh no I'm completely freaking out – just on the inside," he assured her.
"Oh." She let ten seconds go by before continuing, "The connection you were talking about before? The truth is: I feel it too. I feel it a lot."
Somewhat improbably, Rick looked even more confused. "But then why would you want to leave?"
Kate felt her face flush and she managed to stop herself from making a second confession she could not take back. "Forget it."
"No. Tell me, please," he requested kindly. She shook her head and dropped her gaze towards the floor, but he stepped up beside her and placed his hands gently atop her shoulder. "Please?"
Feeling the tears burn behind her eyes for the second time that day, Kate tried to hold it in, but just like the confession about her name, the words falling out of her mouth was beyond her control. "I'm attracted to you."
Rick's hands immediately popped off the tops of her shoulders. "Oh. Oh."
Feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up the back of her neck and onto her cheeks, Kate said quickly, "See, that's why I have to go. I just need to-"
"Wait, wait." He slid his hand around her bicep, holding her in place before she could try and slip past him to hide in the bathroom. "Just hold on a second. Give me some time to think about this."
Gazing up at him cautiously, she asked, "What's there to think about?"
"The connection between us. What if…" His expression morphed from pure confusion to one of revelation and he continued, "What if I'm feeling attraction, too?"
She scoffed. "You can't be."
"Why not?"
Kate knew the first and foremost reason was because he had only known her as a man and, at least in the time she had known him, he'd never expressed any interest in being with men. She didn't say this to him, though. Her confession had caused her to feel more flustered than ever, so she merely blurted out. "I don't know—I don't know! I…I've never talked like this with anyone before, so I don't know!"
Rick's brow wrinkled. "Have you ever told anyone about—about this?"
She shook her head. "Only my parents knew."
"Oh Beckett," he sighed, "That must have been so lonely."
She gave a little shrug and instead of responded with, "It was incredibly lonely," she merely brushed it off with, "I got used to it. I just…I just had to convince myself I was just like everyone else."
"But you're not. You're…anything but." As he spoke. His hand skimmed down her forearm so that he grasped hers with his. Instead of holding onto it, he lifted it up, so her hand rested flat in his palm. He even brought his other hand up to hold onto her wrist so he could further examine her fingers.
"What are you doing?"
He gave her an amused little smile. "Your hands…I don't know how I didn't notice. They seem so small and delicate now."
"You didn't think there was any possibility I was a woman."
"True."
He held onto her hand for another few seconds until she pulled it back and reached up into the top bunk for the basketball shorts and long-sleeved shirt she used as pajamas. "I'm going to, uh, change."
"Sure—oh, hey. I have a question. What do you do with your um…your…?" He gestured vaguely to his mid-chest area, and she arched a brow at him.
"My breasts?"
"Yes, those."
Giving him a pointed look, she said, "Well I can't take them off and put them in my pockets."
He pressed his lips together tightly. "Yes, I know that."
"I wear a binder."
"Does it hurt?"
She shrugged. "Not really; I've worn it since I was twelve, so I got used to it. Excuse me."
Finally in the seclusion of the bathroom, Kate leaned back against the door, closed her eyes, and let out a long, slow breath. As her heart rate began to calm down, she acknowledged that Rick finding out about her true identity wasn't nearly as terrifying as she feared it would be. It was almost…nice. A relief, certainly.
Ever since she was old enough to realize the seriousness of her predicament, Kate knew that she could never tell a single person about the fact that she was truly a woman. The legal ramifications for both her and her father were simply far too high. Those aside, being a woman outnumbered forty-to-one by men was severely intimidating. She would fear for both her safety and sanity. Simply put: she wasn't sure she could ever trust anyone enough to open up to them in that way. Then, she'd met Rick Rodgers.
At first, he new partner had felt only like a thorn in her side. She was trying to keep her head down and work by the book to not draw any extra attention to herself, and there he was with his larger-than-life attitude, toeing the edge of every line he could find. Eventually, though, they were able to balance out their two differing personalities. Once they hit that point, their working relationship began to blossom until one day she found herself excited to go to work instead of feeling like she was going through the motions of living someone else's life.
As the months wore on, Kate realized that she had begun to feel like her true self when it was just the two of them. She felt as open as she ever had been with anyone and, shockingly, revealing those bits of herself didn't scare him away. True, sometimes he laughed and rolled his eyes, but he always seemed happy to work cases with her. Though she tried to deny the way her heart fluttered when he'd laugh at something he said, or when their hands inadvertently brushed together while they rode in their vehicle together, there came a point where she simply couldn't fight those feelings anymore. Never before had she felt that way for a man—probably because she had never before let herself grow as close to someone as she had to Rick. She'd never even felt the urge to do so. She'd been fine with her solitary life, but something about him made her change her mind without even realizing it. He was absolutely right: they did have a connection; it just wasn't the same connection.
After changing her clothes and brushing her teeth, Kate returned to the main room of the dorm to find a determined looking Rick standing in the exact spot where she'd left him. "You can't leave the Twelfth, Beckett. Please—you can't. If you're worried about someone being suspicious—don't. I'm sure no one is."
She shook her head. "You can't know that."
"Sure, I can. Who would be more likely to be suspicious than me? And I had no idea. None."
She twisted her lips to the side, considering. "You didn't think I was…weird?"
He hesitated for a moment then said, "Unique, possibly."
She scoffed and walked over to her suitcase, which sat on the opposite side of the room. "That's just a polite way to say weird."
"C'mon! No, it's not. Think about a few hours ago when I was excited out of my mind that we won the top partners award. I'm so glad that you're my partner!" He walked over and placed his hands atop her shoulders once more. Giving them a little squeeze, he begged her. "Please. Please."
Her chest constricting with an amalgamation of emotions she couldn't have verbalized if she wanted to, Kate dropped her chin towards her chest and relented. "I…I won't put in my transfer yet, but I'm still not sure if I can stay for very much longer."
He squeezed her shoulders and proclaimed, "Then I'll just have to convince you."
Smiling despite herself, she finally met his eye and gave him a short nod. "Goodnight, Rodgers."
"Goodnight, Beckett," he echoed before releasing her shoulders so she could climb up into to the top bunk and try to sleep, though she feared her mind was far too active for her to relax.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This fic actually goes along with the story collection I did a few years ago called "This Feeling", which all have similar AU themes. I thought about this idea after reading the Handmaids Tale so...it's not exactly a happy universe lol, but since its several chapters I wanted to break it out on its own rather than add it to that older collection.
