The case that was just closed was probably the one that scared him the most. When he decided to shadow Kate Beckett a couple of years ago, he never expected this. And it probably opened his eyes to what he felt about what was right in front of him.
How much he loved Kate Beckett.
His realization was not slow in coming. His every thought for the past couple of months had been only of her, her safety, and how she could make the lives of others a little better with the closure of why someone would take the life of their loved ones.
Their last case was the one where he had made the very stupid decision of ripping all the wires out of the dirty bomb that sat in the back of a black van in lower Manhattan. He did save thousands of people, but now, he realizes how foolish he had been. All that needed to happen was to have one wire not become disengaged from the timer, and his life and the woman he loved would abruptly end in a brilliant flash of light and incinerating heat.
Everything with the case celebration, once Bradford Hayes was arrested and processed by the Department of Homeland Security and removed from their precinct, was fine until Dr. Motorcycle Boy showed up on the homicide floor.
He doesn't know what she sees in him, but from what he gathered from the little snippets of information about their so-called relationship she let out unknowingly in casual conversation, they didn't have much in common. He thinks that their relationship is more physical than emotional, and he doesn't see it going the distance. Once he was standing in the elevator and he noticed the look on her face when she was in an embrace with the doctor, he could see that she didn't want to be there with Dr. Motorcycle Boy, so he set out to let her know how much he cared about her.
When he arrived back at the loft, it was already past 7:00 p.m. He makes himself busy by placing a quick order to his favorite restaurant to have dinner delivered, seeing that it will give him more time to do the task. Once the dinner order is prepared, he uses the time before it arrives.
He quickly heads to his bedroom, strips all his clothing off, letting it lie where he shed it, and heads into the shower. He quickly washes away all the dirt from the day and most of his thoughts. He places both hands on the shower wall, letting the water cascade over his head and neck, relieving the tension. He stays under the spray, thinking about all of the possible outcomes his actions could have led to, and then he breaks down and starts sobbing uncontrollably, realizing how close he came to dying today.
He doesn't know how long he stays in the shower, but when the water finally starts to cool down and he realizes where he is, he finds himself in the fetal position on the shower floor.
He leaves the shower and dries his body off. He picks up his watch lying on the vanity countertop and sees that he's been in the shower for over an hour. Knowing that he missed the dinner delivery, he quickly throws on a pair of comfortable sweats and a Batman t-shirt and walks out of the bathroom to check and see if his meal is here yet.
He swings open the door to the loft and looks down. Sitting on the floor is a plain brown paper bag. The aroma is still present, and his stomach grumbles even more. He picks up the order and retreats to the breakfast bar to eat.
He pulls open the tray that houses the ribs he orders every time from the Peruvian restaurant less than two blocks from the loft. The amount of meat they give with the order, along with the seasoned rice, is more than any man can eat. As he sits and eats, his thoughts return to the woman he loves.
He knows that she is nowhere near his level of caring and devotion. Hell, he doesn't even know what she feels towards him. But he knows he will always wonder if he doesn't do anything.
Once he's finished eating, he quickly cleans up after himself. He knows that he has the last chapter past due for Nikki Heat and an outline for the next book that needs to be turned in within the next month, so he dutifully flips open the lid on his laptop, finds where he left off on the last chapter of the book, puts the finishing touches on it and sends it off to Gina.
He checks the time on the clock on the lower right-hand side of the laptop. He can't believe where the time has gone, but it's almost 10 pm.
Deciding to outline his thoughts at least and set up a working layout for the new book, he opens up a new document and gets to work.
By the time he finally stops, it's close to 1:30 in the morning. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he closes the laptop lid and calls it a night. He takes care of his nightly routine by brushing his teeth, washing his face, and setting out fresh towels for tomorrow morning's shower. By the time his head hits the pillow, in less than a minute, he falls asleep peacefully.
His peaceful sleep does not last very long. He wakes up drenched in sweat from a dream that, by all means, felt so real to him. In the dream, he and Kate are standing at the open doors of the cargo van. Just as he reached for the cluster of wires he pulled in real life and saved them, he did the same in his dream, only to find that the timer never stopped and hit zero. The detonation was instant, and just as he felt the fireball engulf his body, he woke up screaming. He would never want to live through it again, even if it was a dream.
But he has the feeling that this will happen again.
He eyes the time and sees that it's close to five am. Knowing there will be no sleep tonight, he slides out of bed and into the shower. The sun is just rising when he pours his second cup of coffee. He sits on the balcony off the living room and thinks about his current issue while he sips his brew.
He is interrupted from his thoughts by the ringing of his cell phone. The tone is a familiar one, and he answers immediately.
"Castle," he states.
"Castle, we have another case. Are you up for it?" Kate asks.
"Sure, Beckett. Where should I meet you?"
"77 West 66th Street. Gemstar studios."
"Okay. Be there in about twenty minutes."
"Okay, Castle, see you there." Rick ends the call, and then he has an idea. He has just the way to tell Kate how much he cares for her.
This case is a hard one. A writer, of all people, was found with an axe in her back. Why would anyone want to kill a writer? He thought to himself.
A/N: This will be a short story, maybe three to four chapters at best. Posting will be sporadic as my work life has seemed to overtake my personal life. Thanks for reading.
A/N: 2 Kudos to anyone who cha spot the easter egg in this chapter.