This fic is set somewhere around late season four of Castle, pre-Caskett. I am trying to get over the writer's block that has been over me for months.
Disclaimer: I do not own Castle in any way at all. But for my birthday, I certainly wouldn't mind getting the rights to it. Just putting that out there.
It's New Year's Eve and Richard Castle is sitting alone at a bench in Central Park, watching fireworks explode above his head as he contemplates the year that was quickly coming to an end.
He presses his iPhone's home button, the bright screen illuminating his down face, as he glances at the time shown on the phone.
11:47
Castle sighs and glances at the breath taking display above him, which normally he would be awed by, but right now, his mood had been down (so to speak).
His thoughts quickly catch up to him and his mind drifts unconsciously back to the person he was thinking about before he checked his phone.
The mysterious (and hot as hell) Kate Beckett.
Castle's brows furrow as he remembers her startling confession when she was in the box with the suspect. She had said that she had been shot and remembered every single second.
Remembering that scene sends a jolt of pain flashing through his heart and he literally feels an ache in his chest as he wonders why.
He loved her. No, loves her. Despite the words she said that had struck him, he knew that whatever he would do, no matter how much he would try to move on from her, that he would always love her.
He wants to be angry at her, at least feel some remorse over the fact that she had lied about her memory, but he can't.
Maybe she thinks she's being kind, he thinks. She couldn't love me, so she's trying to be nice about it and not bringing it up.
Something tugged at his memory and he remembers.
Kate's wrought stricken face when he said that he was planning to shadow another detective.
Her face when he rolled up to the crime scene in his Ferrari with the hot, blonde girl who certainly was good in bed. She almost looked like she lo-
No, he thought. Don't think about it. Don't make this more complicated than it really is.
Castle's thoughts were interrupted wen he heard the familiar clack of heels against the cracked pavement of the park, and he looked up, feeling as if he were in a dream.
In front of him stood Beckett, who wring her hands and chewed at her lip, which he immediately identified as a tell. She was nervous about something, and he knew what it was- she was finally going to tell him about the truth and how she doesn't like (or love him, but what does it matter?) the way he does.
"Castle," her voice trembles and he tries to brace himself against the words he knows she is going to say, words that will scar him and pick at his heart. He hopes that she will just get over it and say it out loud bluntly, so he can just put this behind him. But what she says isn't what he expects.
"Can we talk?"
I would certainly love reviews, and constructive criticism is appreciated. I am going to update this pretty soon, maybe tomorrow or a couple of days from now. Happy New Year!