AN: I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted! I moved in October and I'm still living out of boxes (that's how hectic my life is right now), so if that's any excuse, there it is.
I kind of got a little stuck halfway through this one, so I hope it still flows well. I also really didn't like how I saw Castle in this scene from Beckett's perspective, but I think I worked it out well enough. This is the end(ish) scene in the precinct when they discuss why Castle writes about murder.
I hope you like it! Please review!
"I hope this doesn't destroy her." Castle said as they watched this already broken family crumble even more.
"It will for a little while." Kate hadn't really meant to say it out loud; she wasn't entirely sure if she was revealing something about her own story to Castle, or simply drawing from the plethora of victims she'd seen fall apart over the years. They never blended together in her mind, but sometimes she wasn't sure if the pain she felt was theirs or her own.
"And then one day she'll wake up and it will just be a part of her life." That was definitely about Kate; she wouldn't deny that. But now that she was in waters too deep to be comfortable, she had to find some levity. "Who know," she said, smirking as she walked around her desk. "Maybe she'll become a writer."
"Or a cop," Castle agreed, easily tracking her mood shift.
As they sat, Kate thought back to their earlier "conversation" about why he'd started writing murder mysteries. The question had been eating at her, but now was the first time she'd really had the opportunity to ask again.
"You know you still haven't told me where your fascination with murder came from." She tried to play nonchalant, but her curiosity burned hot. He didn't look at her for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to tell her the story. When he finally turned to her, she leaned forward unconsciously, bracing herself to see a new layer of Castle.
"I was five years old. We were summering in the Hamptons." Barely two sentences in and Kate was enthralled. It was truly embarrassing how much she loved this man's ability to weave a story.
As he continued, she could almost feel the summer heat on her back, the wet sand beneath her toes. If she could have thought about anything but his words, she would have called herself pathetic, being so caught up with his simple little story. But he was just so damn good at this. If there ever was, there was no longer any question in Kate's mind as to why he'd made the bestseller list more than twenty times. He could, she thought to herself and tried not to laugh, read her his grocery list and make it sound like an epic adventure. But if she had anything to say about it, he would never know she felt this way; his ego was already large enough.
"So I ran over to see what it was." She could tell Castle's story was coming to its climax, and she hung on every word.
"What was it?" She asked, smiling as she waited for the punch line. But then his face sobered.
"It was a boy. My age." Kate's face immediately darkened. Her eyes raked his face, searching for a glimmer of the pain she'd seen in so many witnesses, in the mirror, wondering how she'd missed it for so long. "It was our housekeeper's son."
She had to look away. This was not what she had been expecting when she'd asked, wouldn't have had she known the answer would be as terrible as this. She tried to listen as he continued, but a single question burned through her brain.
"What happened to him?" She didn't really want to hear the answer, she never did, but she had to ask.
"They never found out." Ice washed through her veins. Even without her own experience, she had seen enough people lose loved ones to know that knowing what happened matters. She said the only think she could.
"I'm so sorry Castle."
He nodded a little, but a grin cracked across his face. Then it hit her.
"You made that up?" She couldn't believe she had fallen for it.
"It's what I do!" He laughed and she realized she should have seen it coming. Of course she'd never seen that telltale pain in his eyes, he was lying.
"You know you are so getting it for that one." She tried to hide her shock by vowing revenge, but she was still trying to shake his story off.
"The party," he said as he stood to leave, "is at nine o'clock. I cannot wait to see what you're wearing." She gave him a smile and an eye roll as he left, but when she turned back to her desk, she couldn't help the image stuck in her mind's eye of a five year old Castle leaning over the body of a young boy. She should her head slightly to try to focus herself. After all, she now had to decide what she was wearing to his damn party.
AN 2: So there you have it! Hopefully I'll be updating soon (I'm trying to get my writing juices flowing again), but as always, I can't make any promises. Please review, I love hearing what you guys think.