Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Castle.
A/N: I'm adding them as fast as I can write them! Thanks for the reviews & comments. I'm not replying to them individually for this story, 'cos it's stressful enough as it is - but I really appreciate the feedback.
Beta Note: Thank you elizabeth . bynog for all the help.
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Rick's slumber was anything but restful. Despite the pharmaceutically-aided sleep, he had twisted and struggled to settle all night. The next morning early, before daylight was breaking through his windows, his eyes cracked open and new recollections began bouncing around the emerging edges of his consciousness.
He now vividly recalled the face of Detective Beckett, wrapped by a short-haired bob, glaring across a table at him. She had appeared upset, not pleased at all to be near him.
"Mr. Castle, this whole bad boy charm thing that you've got going might work for bimbettes and celebutantes. Me? I work for a living. So that makes you one of two things in my world. Either the guy who makes my life easier or the guy who makes my life harder, and trust me, you do not want to be the guy who makes my life harder."
The only other memory that had stuck to his waking mind was in the New York Public Library, and again, she had been unhappy with him.
"Richard Castle! You are under arrest for felony theft and obstruction of justice."
He had no idea how old the memories were, but he knew that he was obviously one of those guys that made her life harder, one she'd arrested for it too. It was hard to reconcile those memories with the woman who had been asking for another chance. She appeared to dislike him, if not hate him. Another chance at what?
He glanced at his clock. It was early, far too early for him to be awake normally; nonetheless he could hear the soft rattling of something in the kitchen. At this hour it was highly unlikely to be his mother, or Alexis for that matter; which left Detective Beckett as the most likely candidate. He knew he wasn't going to get more sleep, not without additional chemical aids at least.
He called out, trying not to wake the whole house, "Detective!"
There was a soft clatter, followed by approaching footsteps and an opening door. She was stood in the doorway in her sleep clothes; the hair stood out as the biggest distinction, long now, so different from the memories still flitting about the edges of his consciousness.
She was leaning on the door frame, her gaze perusing his still recumbent form, a small smile on her lips. "Morning Rick. I didn't think you'd be awake. I didn't wake you up did I?"
Rick didn't even acknowledge the question, wanting to get the elephant in the room off his chest, "I remembered seeing you at the New York Public Library."
If her smile before was small, it now broke radiantly across her face as she pushed herself away from the frame and across the room. A reaction he had not in any way anticipated, she was rapidly approaching. "That moment had everything I feel about you in it Rick."
Rick was momentarily stunned as she sat on the bed beside him, cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him. He turned his head, shying away with a confused look. "Stop."
She did immediately, pulling back from him slightly; a confused expression of her own rapidly developing. "Rick... At the library, we were so happy, we kissed, we..."
His voice was sluggish, and his brain had only barely broken free from slumber, but he did not recall happiness, but anger. "You had me arrested. Looked anything but happy."
He watched her sit up, more upright on the bed now, clearly not about to fall on him and smother him with kisses as it had looked she might. Never taking her eyes off of him, she spoke, "That was the first time Rick, it's why we met there the second time; that time it was tied to Tyson, after you broke out of jail..."
The adrenalin spike at that news woke him up completely. "I broke out of jail? That is so cool. What was I in for?"
She had a hand on his shoulder pressing him back onto the bed, making sure he didn't try any rapid unassisted movements. "Rick it's not important right now ok. I'll get you copies of all our case files, it's against policy, but I'll do it for you, then you can read the details. The point is that the first arrest, it became a bit of a joke to us. You remember the incident like it just happened, not like we do now. After Jerry came for you most recently, when we met at the library we were inseparable. You were happy, I was ecstatic that you were still alive. I'd hoped you remembered that meeting."
His knew his eyes would be shining brighter now though, the thought of case files intriguing him. "Sorry Detective, all I remember is an angry you; a fierce woman, but with that ferocity targeted at me. The case files would be interesting, I could build a timeline of my life over the last few years. How much time did we spend together? Will the files fill in a lot of time?"
"Five years we worked together Rick, hours and hours a day; the case files only fill in the bare bones of what happened though; I'll have to fill you in on the rest of our interaction."
He knew he had plenty of other information too, "I can compare them to my notes about you, a giant story jigsaw puzzle. I love puzzles, even if they can be frustrating at times."
There was a small note of surprise in her voice then, "You have notes about me?"
He wasn't sure how she could possibly be surprised; he was a writer, he made notes about everything. "Of course I have notes on you, they were the foundation of the Nikki Heat character. I've only glanced at the character notes so far though."
The hesitancy came through very clearly, "I'm not sure that's a good idea Rick."
Rick squinted, bothered by the lack of confidence she showed, she had just offered to show him the files, now she wanted take it back? "Why? Things to hide in those files? More secrets?"
Kate smiled wanly and shook her head, "Not the files Rick, there are some things in those that will need explaining, but we can talk about those; if you promise to talk with me about anything you find and not to let it eat at you and fester. The notes Rick, I don't know what they say, and we have 5 years of bumpy history."
"You're afraid I'll find things in them you don't want me to remember."
"Honestly? Yes, there are things I'd rather have never happened, that only caused problems between us. Too many of those things read all together, because you'll speed read everything, and I don't know how you'll react."
"You want to know my reaction in advance? To control it? To control me?"
He knew his voice was a little harsh, but it's was quickly washed away by her tinkling laugh. "Control you? Really? Cuffing you to a car never controlled you Rick. You never did what I told you."
"Then why don't you want me to read my own notes?"
She patted him on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring, "I think you took it the wrong way, I want you to know about us, our history; but I want your reaction to be shared. To not keep things inside where they can hurt us."
"Because we shouldn't keep secrets? You're a fine one to talk."
"Rick... Let's just not do this right now ok? I kept a secret I shouldn't and it hurt you; you've done things you shouldn't that hurt me. We'll overcome all this if you can trust me a little and we can give us both another chance."
"You don't want to do this now? Or at all?"
"Rick I have to go to work soon, but I'll be back tonight. I'll be back every night. We have plenty of time to talk."
Until the one day she decided not to come back? To take some other route to her own future, leaving him behind just like Meredith had? Not the topic for right now, but something that needed to be addressed eventually. He tried for a wry response instead, "Until I change the locks?"
He saw her face absolutely freeze, the pulse in her neck accelerate slightly. Not the result he'd been looking for with a gentle joke, but perhaps that particular topic was too sensitive for her.
She blinked and swallowed, but before she could respond he spoke. "It was a joke Kate, I'm not planning on changing the locks. I need to know my story too badly, and I think that you're the only one that can tell it to me."
She nodded silently, then began wordlessly to help him from the bed into his chair. She then walked slowly from the room, stopping at the door and looking back at him.
"I'm making coffee, I'll make some green tea for you."
That was an idea he did not want to get behind. "It hasn't helped, it tastes funny, and it's hard to stomach."
She glanced back over her shoulder as she left his room, "Hard things don't come back over night, sometimes they're worth working for. The tea is good for you. Drink it Rick, and someday it'll be worth your while."
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On the drive over to the precinct Kate was of mixed emotions; he had recalled an interaction. Now at least he knew they had a history from some mechanism other that having it told to him. It was a negative memory though and possibly, if Doctor Andrews was correct about only older memories returning, they would all be negative ones. Their future may be contingent on her ability to construct positive new memories from the rubble of shattered bad ones. It was a job she was willing to take on, but had no idea what her chances of success actually were.
As soon as she pulled into a spot in the parking garage below the precinct, Kate hit speed dial on her phone, connecting to Martha's voicemail.
"Martha, it's Kate, umm, Beckett. Please call the nursing service and have Wendy reassigned. Judy was hitting on Rick yesterday and it's just not professional. He needs medical care, not a bimbo. If he gives you any trouble I'll take care of it. Please. Call me if you need me to elaborate."
Clicking disconnect, Kate sighed a deep breath and released the tension in her shoulders. She was still a little stressed. Judy would be the first medical visit that morning, and she hoped that her scare kept everything straight long enough for Wendy to come back into the fold.
Riding the elevator to the Homicide floor, she contemplated her plans for the day. Presuming no new body, and she was hopeful in that regard, then she needed to collect copies of slightly over 100 case files. As the senior detective she could make copies of any of her teams files without setting off any bizarre access request red flags. She had considered the scope of the task on the way over, deciding to only provide Rick with copies of her own reports rather than those of the entire team; her's were typically the most complete anyway, so little would be missing in terms of essential details. At least for most reports, those from the guys would likely have additional details in some cases, such as her first back after her shooting, Esposito's particularly in the sniper case, what had gone on outside of Fosse's apartment, and Ryan's report on the sniper incident in the hotel room. All extraneous details that could be filled in later as necessary. Her reports alone would do for now, that would give Rick plenty to work with.
She greeted the guys at their desks and set to work, hoping there would be no body drop and that she'd make it back to the loft relatively early tonight.
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"You! What are you doing here."
"I came to finish the job."
"Get out!"
"Sorry, but no."
"I'll call the cops."
That brought out a dry chuckle, "I don't think they'll be helping you this time."
Seriously, it seemed like his healthcare was turning into a game of musical chairs, Judy had seemed very hesitant earlier, and now Wendy was back.
Rick tried his hardest to be intimidating, but that worked best when he could loom over someone; a little difficult to do confined to a chair with two broken legs. "I believe my mother made arrangements with another nurse."
Wendy had already put down her bag and was pulling out the tools of her trade; or the trade Rick thought she should be following, thumb screws, a cattle prod; she did actually pull out a stethoscope. Turning once again to address him, "Your mother called me back. I only accepted because she was nice, and you'll be paying me time and a half. You and me better start getting along, just act like a grown up and everything will be fine."
"Why do you have to be so harsh? Smile occasionally. Tell a joke."
"Mister Castle, your condition is not a joke. I take it very seriously and so should you. Judy should have taken it a bit more seriously too from what I hear. Our supervisor had words with her."
The clatter of stilettos down the stairs drew Rick's gaze to where Martha was ambling down from the upper floor. He immediately glared at Wendy and spoke to his mother. "A word please?"
Withdrawing into his office, he waited for her to join him, which she eventually did after some discussion he couldn't make out with Wendy.
"Yes, kiddo?"
"Why is Wendy back? I asked for a new nurse, what was wrong with Judy?"
Martha gave him a glance, one that said 'seriously?' before speaking. "Katherine told me she was hitting on you, and regardless of her feelings on the matter, I don't think it was appropriate for your nurse to ask you out to dinner. So I made an executive decision in your best interests."
"Kate asked you to do that? How did she even know?"
"Richard dear, she overheard. I did speak to her this morning; I wouldn't disregard your wishes just to be cavalier. You need a nurse, not someone distracted by your money and reputation."
He tried to remain calm, but he was starting to get irritated by the constant changes and revolving door of people he had to deal with. He was having enough memory problems as it was without faces switching on him every day. He needed constants to hang on to, pillars of support while everything else was so jumbled. There were no real constants in his life anymore, not beyond Martha, Alexis, and increasingly now, Kate.
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When Kate got back to the loft at 6pm with a bundle of files under her arm, she found it strangely silent. Rick wasn't in the den, nor his office; though bumping his laptop showed he had been at some point. The screen lit up with a page of notes, a couple of names immediately catching her eye: Beckett and Sorenson. It was obvious that he'd been reading his notes about their early history, something that case files wouldn't add much to in all likelihood.
Opening the bedroom door, she saw him snoozing; apparently someone had helped him to bed for a nap. Kate eased herself slowly onto the bed beside him, touching his forehead gently and stroking her thumb across his hairline. Her voice spoke softly, trying to not wake him. "Come back to me Rick, back to us, give us one more chance. I love you."
His voice was gravely, still clouded by sleep. "Tell me about Sorenson."
Kate didn't stop her stoking of his head; if he didn't object, she'd take the comfort in touch that it could provide. "We'd dated for a while, six months maybe. We were over well before you two met."
He still hadn't opened his eyes, or early changed his breathing, only the voice let her know he was awake. "I saw you kissing him didn't I."
She was tempted to lay down beside him, but simply let her hand continue it's slow motion instead, "Maybe. I did kiss him I think, or he kissed me, I don't recall. Just because I did doesn't mean I had any interest in anything more, and certainly not getting back together with him. We broke up for a reason."
His eyes finally cracked open, meeting hers. "And what was that reason?"
There was no doubt he knew. She'd told him at the time, she was sure he'd have included it in any notes, but maybe the real reason hadn't yet sunk in. "Why? I didn't love him Rick."
He was just staring at her, waiting, and eventually she spoke again. "That's the real reason Rick. He took a job in Boston without consulting me until after the fact, just expected me to pick up and follow him. I know what you're hinting at Rick, but I'm still here, not in DC."
"But you were close to going."
"Close only counts in horseshoes and with hand grenades. I'm still here. With you. I didn't go with him because I didn't loved him; I'm still here because I do love you. If I didn't, I'd probably be in DC now. I'm not, let that speak for me."
"It's hard Kate, hard to know what to think when I don't know us."
Kate let a note of determination enter her voice. "You will, either because you'll remember, or because we'll rebuild. I'm not giving up, I'm willing, more than willing to be patient. Trust me Rick. Let me be there for you as you heal."
He didn't say anything, but Kate took solace in the fact that during their talk about another man, he had not even attempted to shake her hand from from where she was touching his skin.
He was still watching her, not saying anything, when she spoke again. "You want to rest more? I'm going to make some dinner ok?"
He just mumbled tiredly, struggling to sit up, "Help me up, I'll come sit with you."
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Rick had pulled himself up alongside the kitchen counter and was perusing case files when Kate came back down stairs, having changed into a more casual outfit. The first case where he'd run into Detective Beckett had certainly been interesting. He'd remembered a few details, but not that the inspiration had been his books, though with notable and important details in error.
The rattling of pans distracted him as he prepared to read the second case and Kate's voice drew his attention immediately. "Mac and cheese with chicken. You need protein and calcium. That ok?"
"That's absolutely fine. We could just order in if you want."
She grinned over at him and wiggled her fingers, it seemed somehow a thing much more simply fun that he had expected from her. "No. I wanna cook. Gives me something to do with my hands. When's Wendy coming by next?"
Wendy, not Judy. Because Kate had intervened. "Why did you call my mother and have Wendy come back? I don't like her."
There was not even a momentary pause as Kate kept up her preparations, pulling the chicken from the freezer and starting a defrost cycle. "Because she was unprofessional Rick. She had a job to do, should have done that and nothing more."
He just observed for a while, in the full knowledge he hadn't been professional all the time, though as an author that was an ambiguous statement at best, but he needed to poke, prod, pick at a potential scab, just to see. "Have you ever been unprofessional Detective?"
That question did cause a slight pause, and an expected response, "Of course."
"Did you get fired? Get another chance?"
A deep breath was the prelude to her response, "I've been suspended, removed from cases; I've usually faced consequences. Judy didn't get fired, she just won't be working here anymore."
"But why not just a warn..."
Both hands on the kitchen counter as she gave him something of a frustrated frown, "Fine! She was unprofessional and I was jealous. That what you wanted to hear?"
He smiled at her, "Just wanted to hear the truth."
Back at it, filling a pan with water. "Unprofessional was a truth. One day Rick, you're going to find a truth about us you don't like; just make sure you let me push you the same way. It's a two way street. Remember that Ricky."
Perhaps he'd pushed a little too far, she seemed exasperated with him. "Any particular cases that were interesting?"
"Flip forward a few, look for the little girl that got kidnapped, it's where you met Will. You seem fascinated by him."
He did, the case was interesting enough, but his own notes on their interaction were far more interesting in his view. He knew from the structure on his notes that there was a gap coming, a few more weeks and then a large chuck of missing time where he'd either had nothing to write, or far more likely had had no interaction with Detective Beckett. Just the existence of a gap tickled his interest, he'd clearly been fascinated, perhaps even obsessed with her; he couldn't imagine that it had been his choice. Something had happened, something big, and he wanted to know what.
"I'm going to be in my office, ok?"
Kate had a slightly querying expression, "Sure Rick. I'll come get you when dinner's ready."
He withdrew to his office, curiosity now too much; the notes now far outweighing the case files. Clicking his track pad he woke the computer from sleep and quickly flipped through his notes to the last few pages before the break. Reading carefully, the weight of their meaning pressed down on him; not just about what they said, but even more so about what he had done. His curiosity, determination to know the whole story, had resulted in knowledge but at a price. He knew why there was a gap now, but not why it was a gap and not an end.
Her voice caught him by surprise, he was distracted by his internal ruminations, "What you doing?"
He couldn't help it, the sheer magnitude made him blurt it out, "You mom was murdered!