He dreams of her, of all the moments of this life she was not a part of. His first book deal, his first two marriages, the long nights of writing, imagining a character that mirrored her and keeping her tucked away in a secret word document. He dreams of a little girl with her eyes and wit, of little boys that look identical but one that favors her personality and one his, and… the same damn dog he keeps seeing in this visions.
The dog is whimpering in the dream huddling at the foot of their bed, the flash of lightning and accompanying thunder crackling through the room. Kate is curled at his back, mumbling something about the kids into his bare shoulder.
The kids… where were the kids?
Rick swims to consciousness when the beams of sunlight begin to spear through the window, hitting his face from a different angle than he's used-
His eyes flare open to an unfamiliar ceiling, to the scent of coffee and Kate Beckett, and he immediately sits up. He glances to the spot beside him, finding her lying on her side, already awake and watching him.
"Kate."
The smile that blooms across her lips sets his world alight.
"Bad dream?" she greets, her voice a lovely rasp. Her hair is a golden brown across the cream cover of her pillows, her arms curled against her bare chest, and her eyes hazel and attentive, studying him.
"No, no," he sighs, the imagery of a different Kate in a different world, the dog, and the storm already fading. "Just dreaming about you."
She releases a small chuckle, gnawing on her bottom lip.
"Good morning," he murmurs, easing back to the mattress and twisting on his side. "This is real."
She nods, her smile softening into a grin. "Yeah, definitely real."
"I don't want to go back anymore," he says, shifting closer in the bed and sliding an arm around her waist.
One of her brows arches and he feels a lithe leg twine around his.
"So, being eighteen and starting from scratch has officially lost its appeal?" she teases, not trying to hide her amusement as he draws her body up against his.
"Everything," he says ardently, stroking the hair back from her cheeks and tracing the gorgeous arch of bone with his thumb. "Pales in comparison to this."
The humor abandons her face, something tender and warm filling her eyes instead. Kate slips her hands between them to cup his face.
"Good," she whispers, craning her neck to graze her mouth to his. Her lips quirk as he laces his arms around her, sealing her body to his. "Because I'm not letting you go."
In the days that follow, he spends them with her. He rarely goes back to his loft, much to what he believes is his mother's joy. Instead, he goes home with Beckett after work, falling to sleep in her bed every night. He makes her coffee at her apartment in the mornings, showing up with another later at the precinct to keep up their charade of mere friendship.
But she no longer restricts her smiles, letting him see the way the spread of her lips reaches her eyes, dappling light across her face.
For those few days, he truly thinks he belongs here, in this world, in this life, with this Kate Beckett. But then the dreams begin again - forceful new visions of dark parking garage meetings and an older man in the shadows who emerges to speak with him in a hushed and ominous voice. He wakes with a cold sweat running down his spine, with his chest tight.
When she asks him about it one morning, he opens his mouth to speak, but abruptly waves it off as nothing. Something inside him, some instinct he isn't familiar with, warns him to keep the dreams to himself. To hide the mysterious meetings from her.
None of it makes sense until he receives a phone call from an unknown number while folding his laundry. He stayed at the loft the night before to get some chores done, clean up around the apartment; he didn't realize he would be grateful for the privacy until later.
"Mr. Castle. It's been a while."
"It… has," Rick hedges, pressing 'start' on the dryer and stepping out of his laundry room.
"I see there have been… developments between you and Captain Beckett." The voice says this quietly, but it has that same hair-raising quality the voice from his dreams possesses.
"Smith," he whispers suddenly, earning silence on the other line. "I - I forgot."
"You forgot?" the other man echoes, his voice deadly.
"No, well - I mean, I suffered a head injury," he lies, pacing around his kitchen and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "And the last twenty years are… blurry."
The line is quiet for an uncomfortably long moment.
"Well, let me clear things up for you, Mr. Castle. You keep Captain Beckett away from her mother's case and you stay away from it yourself. If you go digging again, they won't just kill you," Smith tells him - reminds him - with no emotion in his voice, just a touch of warning. "They will kill her. And this time, they won't miss."
Rick stills in the middle of the room.
"She said she was done," he rasps, clearing his throat. "The first shot was enough."
"Was it? Because you staying away from her was doing its job for the last ten years. Until recently, until you stopped. The Dragon knows who you are, Rick," Smith reveals what is likely old news. "They won't hesitate to take you out first, just to teach her a lesson before she dies."
"She's been with me, she isn't… she's happy, she doesn't want to go back there," he reasons, rambles.
"I hope you're right, because she's about to need a hell of a lot of distraction."
"What-"
"Roy Montgomery is dead. He was killed this morning." Rick's entire body goes cold. He doesn't know Roy personally, but he does know who the man is, that he is Kate's former captain. "I have done my part to ensure Kate Beckett is not next. You do yours."
"Wait-"
But the line is dead.
Castle leans heavily against the island, cradling the useless phone to his ear.
He worries that this version of himself was never meant to be happy.
The news reaches the Twelfth before he does. The entire bullpen is silent, haunted and mournful. Kate is sitting solemn at her desk, pale and unspeaking when he bursts through her office door. She doesn't move.
"Kate."
When she does lift her head, he can see the unshed tears, the horror in her eyes.
"Oh, love," he whispers, coming around her desk and reaching for her. She shocks him by letting the reel of his arms envelope her against his chest, her body sliding out of her chair and into his, her sobs breaching the tremble of her lips against his throat.
Her blinds are closed, so he doesn't waste any time in falling to his knees, holding her against him, and rocking her slowly as she mourns for her mentor.
Rick remains close to her side for the entirety of the day. He watches her formally deliver the news to the homicide division, only falling away when Ryan and Esposito request her presence in the break room. The boys are family to her, little brothers aching in their own grief as well as for that of their big sister's. Esposito claps a gentle hand on her shoulder and Kate embraces Ryan in a quick hug. His heart burns for all of them.
He makes coffee runs and brings her lunch she barely touches while she makes phone calls and speaks to Evelyn Montgomery about the funeral arrangements. Roy was Kate's predecessor; naturally, she will be speaking at the podium to honor him.
When night falls, Castle leaves once more to grab dinner, returning to the precinct to find her at her desk with pursed lips and a file in front of her.
"Was there a new murder?" he inquires, setting the Thai boxes down at the edge of her desk.
Her eyes flicker to meet his, allowing him a glimpse of something dark, something both predator and prey in the hollowness of her gaze. He chances a look to the file opened between her elbows, the legal pad covered in notes beside it.
Unease churns through his gut.
"Kate," he murmurs, swallowing hard. "What is this?"
"Gary McAllister was killed in his cell last night." Her voice is grave, husky from lack of use over the last couple of hours. "He was a detective at the same time as Raglan. They were partners."
No, he absolutely does not like where this is going.
"He called me a few hours before his murder last night, while I was still here at the office, and told me he was going to die soon," she reveals quietly, splaying her fingers over the self-made timeline on yellow paper.
"Fuck," Castle whispers, cursing himself for leaving her alone, for leaving her to wrestle through all of this without a listening ear, a sounding board.
"When… when I asked him why, he said he was a loose end, just like Raglan. That he was one of three cops," she whispers with her brow creased. "He said the Dragon is evolving, moving up in the world, and that he was eviscerating anyone left who knew his secrets. Like what happened to my mom."
She's unable to say it without cracking, her throat constricting at the mention of her mother.
Castle's heart is pounding, palms sweating, and he's forced to take a seat across her desk.
"Castle, I think Montgomery was the third cop," she whispers, her bottom lip unsteady. "He was a rookie around the time that Raglan and McAllister were detectives, and so I - I called Roy last night. He said we needed to meet, discuss this in person." A single tear cascades down her cheek. "And now he's gone."
"But - your captain?" Rick shakes his head. "It makes no sense. Why would Roy Montgomery be involved in Johanna's murder?"
"I don't know, I just…" She purses her lips, glances down to the file and touches the incident report there with shaking fingers. "McAllister told me he was sorry before he hung up and when I talked to Roy last night... it's like he knew," she breathes, staring at him with bloodshot eyes. "Like he knew he might not make it to morning, to meet with me. He told me he was proud of me, of everything I've accomplished, and that he was sorry."
A breath shudders past her lips.
"Rick, what if he killed my mom? What if - I knew it was never gang violence." She buries her head in her hands. "But maybe it was bigger than I ever imagined it could be."
He reaches across the desk to steal one of her hands, clasping her tear stained palm in his fingers and feeling her grip tighten, like she was holding on for dear life.
"Are you going over it again?" he asks, smoothing his thumb along her knuckles.
She nods and wipes at her eyes. "Yeah, I just - wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything. But it doesn't matter, not if it was somehow an inside job. There won't be anything useful here," she mutters, slapping the file closed and easing her fingers from his. "I need to go home, pull up my murder board there."
"Your murder board?"
She winces a little, as if caught out, but draws her bag from her lower desk drawer. "Yeah, since I started looking into her case, I've kept one at home."
"Kate, I know this is a lot for 24 hours, but maybe - maybe we should slow down," he tries, rising with her and lifting a placating hand.
"What do you mean?" she murmurs, already slinging her purse over her shoulder and fishing her keys from the inside pocket.
"Your captain was killed this morning, the funeral is in just a couple of days, you need-"
"What I need is to find out what the hell is going on," she snaps. "What I need is to know why my captain, my friend, was murdered on his morning jog, why he might be connected to my mom's murder, and why all of this is happening now. And what I need is for my partner to support me," she adds with a hint of bite and the raw trace of need.
"I am," he defends quickly, standing in front of her, blocking the door. "I'm trying to look out for you, to - to keep you from taking on too much at once."
"I know what I can handle better than you, Rick." She studies him, eyes flicking up and down. "Now, let's go."
She brushes past him and he catches her arm. "Kate, please wait-"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demands, shrugging out of his grasp. "The Richard Castle I know wouldn't be trying to stop me, he'd be trying to help me."
"I am," he breathes, exasperated, but she must see something, must catch the desperation in his voice. Her eyes narrow in a horrible way that makes him feel like a suspect, her walls go up, and he knows it's over. "Kate, I just want to keep you safe."
"What are you talking about?" she asks, so steely, so ready to slice through him.
"I don't - I don't know all the details, I just-"
Something breaks open across her face, a mixture of shock and betrayal, and she takes a tentative step back.
"Rick?"
"I started having these dreams," he blurts, rushing to get it all out before she gives up on him. "The way I always do when pieces of this me's life come into my head and - I kept seeing this man and a parking garage and then I got a call this morning. He said if you dig, if you look into Johanna's murder again, they'll kill you this time. They won't miss."
Her eyes roam his face, her throat rippling with a swallow.
"Who is he?" she rasps, her jaw squaring hard in a tell she's had since they were kids.
She's trying not to cry.
"I don't know. I swear," he gets out. "He said we've been talking for - for years. He told me Montgomery was dead before I even got here. He told me I was supposed to keep you away from it, keep you from diving back in and not touch the case again either-"
"Again?" she chokes, her skin growing pale. "Castle, are you - are you a part of this?"
"What? No. I - god, Kate, I don't know. I don't know anything. I'm trying to fill in with what Smith told me-"
"No, you need to fucking remember," she growls, the tears falling as the pain and anger bleed together. "You need to tell me what you know, what you did."
"I didn't do anything," he snaps back, so sick of this, so tired of trying to fill the shoes of a man he isn't. "He did this. Your Castle. I didn't. I didn't touch Johanna's case, I didn't sleep with you ten years ago, I didn't leave!"
Kate presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and makes a near keening sound, bowing forward. He tries to touch her, but she slaps his hand away.
"You are him, Rick," she gets out, her chin quivering, her entire body quaking. "I don't know what happened to you, why you can't remember, but you cannot keep running from who you are and using this - this fantasy of alternate universes. It isn't fair."
"I am not running," he growls, stepping close to her, rising to whatever challenge she's issuing. "I am right here and I am with you."
She wants to believe him, he can see it, but she shakes her head slowly and crosses her arms protectively over her chest, digging her nails into her biceps. "Then why did you wait all fucking day to tell me the truth? Why did you hold me while I cried when you knew there was more?"
"Because I didn't even know what Smith was talking about. All I know is that he said the next shot wouldn't be a miss," he tells her gravely, but she doesn't flinch. "Kate, please, I just got you back."
Her eyes flutter closed.
"I know you're angry-"
"No," she whispers, her eyes opening to reveal a cold devastation. "I don't think you know anything with certainty, Castle. But I'm not angry, I'm done."
His heart stops, sinks into the pit of his stomach.
"I need to focus on my mom's case, on Montgomery's. I don't have room for this," she says steadily, inhaling a fortifying breath before backing further away from him.
He's frozen, unable to process how this has all happened, and her hand is curling around the door handle.
"Kate," he gets out, watching her shoulders tense. But she's stopped, which is more than he expected. "I love you. I do know that with certainty."
She glances back to him over her shoulder, her eyes empty but rimmed with sorrow, spilling over with it.
"Castle, I always loved you." A sad smile crosses her lips before dying away. "It's just never been enough."
She leaves him there, standing alone and undone in the darkness of her office.
