Okay:) This started out as one of my drabbles, but while watching some youtube videos, I got this hilarious idea in my head. And as out of character as it is, I think you'll love it. It's a two-parter. I think. But enjoy:)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Richard Castle; famous mystery writer, father, ex husband times two and adventurous child-like adult, sat lying in bed at 4 AM, unable to think of anything to do.
Shipping himself off to the Hamptons was not a good idea. Maybe sending Gina off in her own cab was a bad idea as well.
He couldn't stand that woman. There's a reason she's his ex wife. She's honestly worse than a deep fried Twinkie. And don't we all know how bad a deep fried Twinkie can be.
Even so, he was bored. He was lonely. He missed the city. His apartment. The precinct. Kate.
Oh god, how he much he misses that gorgeous detective of his.
What was he thinking?
She's not his. She belongs to Detective Demming.
He tried to like Tom, he really did. But he soon realized that he couldn't become friends with someone trying to build a more-than-friendship bond with her.
It could have been anybody; he still wouldn't like 'em.
And so it is, reality struck him in the face two weeks ago today. It hit him harder than a penny falling from the empire state building. And apparently that penny will be the death of you if it hits you in the head.
Rick was falling harder than a penny from the empire state building. He was falling, falling, falling-
He's shattered into god knows how many pieces at the bottom.
Whose fault was it? It wasn't like somebody pushed him. And he didn't jump. Not intentionally.
He didn't even realize he was falling until it was too late. He was already tumbling down, down, down-
No matter if he was pushed. No matter if he jumped. Accidental or not.
It was too late.
He was too late.
Oh, but he wasn't innocent. He knows what he missed.
She was going to say something important. Now, it could have been something totally out of the way, but he's pretty damn sure it was about them.
Call him crazy, but Detective Kate Beckett was about to open up.
He knows that much.
Still doesn't know why.
Well, he could go ask. But Rick's pretty sure he's already done enough damage.
Leave them be.
Leave her be.
Richard Castle is known as a very, extremely selfish man. But this, this wasn't selfish.
This was self inflicting pain into his gut. His insides. His heart.
For Detective Katherine Beckett.
'Cause if he stuck around any longer, he'd of done something stupid. Something beyond stupid. He'd have ruined everything they had.
He'd have ruined her.
Let her be happy.
That's what he tells himself every time he picks up the phone or his keys.
Let her be.
She's happy with him. That's all he has to think, and those keys are back on the table. That phone is no longer dialing.
He has a certain Nikki Heat novel to finish, anyways.
Ah! Now, there's something to do.
With extreme effort, he climbs out of bed. Heads to the take a quick shower. Shave?
He's too lazy, too tired, to care.
He won't be seeing anybody until the fall, anyways. So what's it matter?
He wonders into his kitchen, opens the cupboard and finds one thing.
He always has whipped cream.
That'll cheer him up, yeah? It always does.
Unless it's empty.
"Dammit!" He says louder than expected. He shakes the canister and puts it to his mouth again.
Just my luck.
It's then that he hears the obnoxious yelling from his front porch.
"Castle! I know you're in there! I swear I will break down this fucking door if you don't answer it in the next twenty seconds!"
Who the hell is that?
He walks to his door, still shaking the can.
"Alright! Chill out, I'm coming." He says, hoping to shut whoever the hell was at his door up.
One lock slips out of place and he decides to look out of the peep hole.
"The hell?" he grumbles, opening the door. "Demming?"
"Damn right it's Demming! You stupid little-"He grabbed Rick by the rim of his tee shirt and dragged him onto the porch.
"Okay, buddy. I don't know who stepped on your little parade-"
"You stepped on my parade!" He yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "You!"
Rick scoffed and tried his hand at the whipped cream again.
"I have no clue-"He stopped when some of his favorite cream came out. "Wha your talki bout." He finished, his mouth full.
"Of course you don't." Demming sneered. "You left before she could tell you."
"Who could tell me what?" He asked with a raised eyebrow once he swallowed.
"Beckett." He emphasized.
"Oh-"Castle shook his head. "What?"
"What was she going to tell me?"
"I don't know, but it was obviously important!"
"Well, obviously! Wait, how do you know she was going to tell me something?"
Demming groaned and pushed Castle off of his porch and into the yard. "Go!" He barked.
Castle turned around, confused. "Where?"
"To my car. Go!"
" 'Cause you're going to fix whatever you did!"
"What I did?"
"Can I change?" He asked, looking down at his pajama pants.
"Get in the car!"
"Fine!" Castle huffed, setting off towards the undercover Demming drove.
He was being Castlenapped by Detective Demming?
He doesn't know, but he's too tired, too broken, to care.