198. Chapter 198

After The Final Nail, Yet Again

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'd be nailed if I claimed to own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

After leaving the crime scene and Damian Westlake, Beckett and Castle went to a small bar nearby. It was a small, neighborhood bar and not very busy. Castle ordered a Scotch and Beckett chose a glass of red wine.

Castle said nothing, but stared at some point far beyond Beckett's right shoulder. Finally, he spoke. "I apologize. I made a mistake."

Beckett shook her head. "No apology needed. You were right. He wasn't guilty. Of his wife's murder, at least. And you proved he was responsible for killing his dad. Two cases closed. We did our job."

Castle nodded. "Thank you." Then he resumed staring over Beckett's shoulder.

"See something interesting back there?" She finally asked.

"Sorry. I'm afraid I'm not very good company tonight."

"Tell me what you're thinking about."

"How do you know I'm thinking about something?"

She smiled at him. "I'm a detective, Castle. And I know you. You don't spend any time just staring into space with an empty mind."

"Tell my publisher that. She's positive that's all I do."

"We're you thinking about Gina?" Beckett was sorry she brought up the subject as soon as it was out of her mouth. I'm selfish, something I didn't expect of myself. I have Josh as a boyfriend and Castle as a partner and a friend. And the more I think about it, the more I think that Josh doesn't love me and Castle does. My heart tells me that I should try being Castle's girl, but my head tells me it'll never work. One way or another, I'll end up with a broken heart. So, selfish Kate Beckett keeps both men around her. If he does love me, what must that be like for Castle? To see me every day, knowing I'm going home to another man. Maybe he loves me that much. Maybe not. And I don't want him thinking about another woman, but I don't want him to think about me, at least not as a lover. How cruel is that? What kind of hell am I putting Castle through?

"No, not about Gina. I try to avoid thinking about my publisher. I'm thinking about something I said earlier. That without Damian Westlake I'm a rodeo clown, or a grifter, or a lawyer, but I'm not a writer. I'm not me."

Beckett shrugged. "Sure, but for my mom's murder, I'm a lawyer. If things were different, maybe Espo's a Special Forces sergeant still. Ryan's a priest, or a bartender, both good Irish occupations. But we're not someone else, we're us."

"But I am a writer, so I think of other possibilities. A rodeo clown? No. I can't see me jumping out of a barrel to distract a brahma bull."

"You could do the clown part." Kate said, smiling.

He nodded. "A grifter? Could be. I have a good imagination and a certain charm. I'd have to be one of those con men who cons crooks, though. I couldn't stand stealing from widows and orphans."

"I really can't see you as a lawyer, though." Kate said, seriously. "You'd want to make the rules up as you go, just like you do now. "

"Maybe I'd have been a cop." He laughed. "Now that would drive you crazy, wouldn't it? Detective Richard Castle as your partner?"

She shook her head. "No, it wouldn't." Castle's smile faded and he stared at her. "Do you think I don't want you around? Because if you do, you're wrong. You're the best partner I've ever had. I don't want you gone and I'll fight like hell to keep you with me. And if you ever did leave, I'd miss you terribly. Face it. If Castle did leave, he'd leave a hole in my heart almost as bad as the one my mom's death left me with. But I won't tell Castle that. I can't tell him that. I'd have to tell him why and then we'd both know we loved each other. And then, if he left, when he left, it would destroy me.

"So what do you see me as, without Damian Westlake?"

"A writer." She said simply.

"Yeah, but I told you…"

"That Damian Westlake made you a writer? No way. You have talent and imagination and a way of looking at things that few other people have. Without Damian Westlake, you're still Richard Castle, novelist. Someone else would have inspired you. Or you would have inspired yourself, but you'd be you."

Castle thought about it. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"We'll really never know." Kate thought for a minute and decided to tell Castle something. "I have a Damian Westlake in my life, you know."

"Oh, who?" Castle was interested.

"When I was nineteen, my life was turned upside down by my mom's murder. I became a cop, something I never would have considered before. I spent three years reading my mom's case file, looking for something that someone had missed. Going over and over it. Going over and over her own records. Looking for something and finding nothing. And finally, after a year of therapy, I gave it up. I realized that if I kept at it, my mom's case would destroy me. So, if I couldn't get justice for my mom, I'd get justice for everyone else out there. That's why I liked the freaky ones, as Espo likes to say. Those are the ones that other cops try to put into neat little boxes because they're too hard. Those were the ones I had to solve. And deep down inside, I felt like a complete failure. I told myself that I couldn't stand looking at my mom's case because the killer would make some sort of deal and be out on the streets again in ten years, or something. I avoided thinking that the killer was already out on the streets. So I was Kate Beckett, homicide cop and that's all I was. I had no life other than being a cop."

Kate smiled at Castle. "And then my Damian Westlake came into my life."

Castle was surprised. "Me?"

"None other. And you have no idea how angry and hurt I was that you looked into my mom's case. I was so angry…" She stopped. "Well, I was angry."

"Beckett, I'm so sorry. I would never have…"

"Don't you dare apologize, Castle. My mom's killer is dead, and I know someone else ordered the killing. Someone I'll find one day. And you brought a little fun into my life, something I needed. Something I was finally able to allow myself to have. In fact there are times I almost feel like a normal person, and not a totally obsessed cop. Thank you, Richard Castle."

"You're welcome." Oh, my, I do love irony. Why is Beckett able to be with Doctor Motorcycle Boy? Why, because I showed her that she could have fun. I showed her how to have a normal life. And who will be responsible for me losing the woman I love? Why I will, of course. I really ought to put that into a book. Not a Nikki Heat book, Beckett would figure it out. Maybe after we split up. We will split up. Sooner or later the pain of seeing Beckett with another man will get to be too much and I'll have to leave for the sake of my own sanity.

Kate suddenly felt a lump of ice in her stomach. Crap! What have I done? If Castle loves me, he's going to know that Demming and Josh are the fun people I'm with to feel normal, not Castle. How can I do this to Castle? What else could I do? Drop Josh? Tell Castle I want to be his girlfriend? Tell Castle that I love him? End up crying my eyes out in a year? How the hell did I get in this mess?

Castle drained the last of his Scotch. "Thanks for the drink, Beckett. I do feel better. But I have to get going."

"Big plans for Valentine's Day?" She asked.

"No. Just a good night's sleep. And this, of course. Valentine's Day is about being with the one you love. And I've had a drink with her. What more could I do? "What about you?"

Kate shrugged. "I'll probably spend some time with Josh if he gets back in time. Crap! I shouldn't have said that.

He nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow, Beckett?"

"Tomorrow." She said with a smile.

They left and went their separate ways. Each thinking along remarkably similar lines.

Kate walked to her Crown Vic. I don't think I can just let Castle walk out of my life. If he loves me, and that's really not an "if" anymore, he isn't going to stay around if I'm with Josh. The last time he left was when I was with Tom. Was he in love with me then? What will I do?

Castle caught a cab and headed back to the loft. Her valentine is DMB. No doubt about that. My head tells me to leave, there's nothing I can do. My heart tells me to stay. Stay until the bitter end. What will I do?

Neither one came to any conclusion that night.