It's been a while, but I am back. Hopefully everyone is weathering the holiday season well. Enjoy!
Season 4, plays after the episode Demons
"I was worried when I got your text. And then I didn't see you at the precinct all morning."
Worry, he scoffed inwardly, how did that feel for once?
Proceeding to sort a handful of thin booklets before stacking them into his briefcase, Castle shrugged dismissively, keeping his lips pursed to seal the anger from spilling out.
Eventually he drew in a deep breath and turned to look at her, still cringing at the bruise that covered nearly half her beautiful face in black and blue marks. In a valiant effort, he kept his expression neutral, unreadable; and yet it seemed to fail that afternoon.
"Something came up recently.", he began, almost proud at how well the lie had slipped off his tongue, even though every single word made it burn.
"Recently…", Beckett repeated sheepishly, her searching eyes moving from him to the briefcase and back.
"Recently.", he reaffirmed and clenched his jaws as he resumed his packing duties, the hand holding onto the three booklets shaking from aggravation, "There are a few new projects I am working on that have…consumed a lot of my free time."
"Projects like…new books?", she pried and walked deeper into his office, her arms crossed over her chest, leaving just enough distance not to crowd him.
"Some opportunities that will entail in-depth research. Some travelling too. It's too soon to tell but…yea. Like I said in my text, I am going to be absent for a little while.", he stumbled, fighting the heat rising up on either side of his neck, then stashed the booklets away and closed the briefcase.
As Castle spun around to face her, he pressed his back against the edge of the desk, as if to hide the truth from her. And in a roundabout way he was.
"So I take it you are not going to join the NYPD anymore on our cases…?"
Her voice was quivering slightly, and he looked up to see the brief flash of insecurity in her eyes; the painful realization of what was truly happening here slowly dawning on her.
Then, but an instant later, she regained her composure, her expression hardening somewhat as she watched him clench the edge of his desk in a death grip.
For a fleeting moment, he looked her up and down, relishing that slim frame, her straight shoulders, those beautiful cheekbones and the amazing human being that made up that gorgeous package. But then his brain reminded him of the past few weeks, bringing up the bitterness that damn near caused an ulcer, the crippling pain he'd felt as the world around him had come to a terrifying halt.
That's what he really needed a break from.
The rollercoasters. The fear. The bravado.
Selfish or not, his soul could only handle so much and his body had grown weary of the abuse that this relationship had put it through.
"I will…again…eventually.", he replied, feigning indifference although his tone of voice said otherwise.
As their conversation stalled, he turned back around, resuming his mundane task of getting organized for a trip that would barely get him out of this city for the weekend. But it would be something to help get his mind off everything that had happened; and that was what he truly needed.
For the longest time, Beckett fell quiet, stoically watching him grab more random stuff from his office, standing there like a lost child. Eventually, she cleared her throat, nearly choking doing so, and took another cautious step closer.
"This isn't about the case, is it? About the girls? I mean, if you want to talk abo-"
With a stern glare, he cut her off mid-sentence, then shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek at the eve of what would be another argument.
The girls? As if that had anything to do with it.
Had she forgotten that he made a living depicting the cruel and macabre nature of murder? Why would that bother him now? Couldn't she see that every time this issue came up, she immediately deflected the blame, assuming that his issues had something to do with a case and nothing with her way of handling it? Didn't she remember anything that went down during those early evening hours? Was it too much to ask that she put herself in his shoes for once? Feel that horrible fear that came with seeing a loved one in mortal peril?
"No. This is…this is work. My kind of work. I am an author, that's what I do. I write books and research things…", he countered matter-of-factly, starting another round of infinity loops that would hopefully end this conversation without making his heart ache more than it already was.
As he picked up the briefcase, Castle symbolically looked down at his wristwatch, then managed a warm smile that almost felt genuine…almost.
"Well, I guess…just let us know when you'll be back. Ryan, Espo or…or myself.", Beckett answered insecurely, her right hand nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of her leather jacket.
"I will."
In a confident pace, he headed toward the kitchen, grateful when she followed along, leaving the sacred place that was his office.
"You will?", she tried again, as though she didn't believe a word he was saying, her cued senses picking up on his subtle resentment; if only that brilliant mind could rationalize where it was coming from.
"I will…soon enough." Castle replied and pushed her toward the door, "Just consider it a…a vacation. From me."