fic: frozen [1/1]
Title: Frozen
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Castle/Beckett
Words: 1986
Spoilers: 3x24
Summary: 'It had taken her getting shot for him to admit how he felt the first time, just thinking about saying those words to her again made his stomach turn.'
He notices the shift in demeanour, the way she’s suddenly leaning away from him, as if distancing herself. If he’s honest with himself, he’s been waiting for that all evening. He’d noticed it a lot recently, the way that she pulled away when he got close to her; both physically and emotionally.
“I remember everything.”
His insides froze. He had a suspicion this was the reason for her visit that evening, but he hadn’t really expected her to say anything. All he had allowed himself to imagine was the two of them drinking some wine and having a good laugh.
Up until that moment that was exactly what it had been. But now, now it was something else, it was what he wanted to talk about, but he was so afraid to bring up. It had taken her getting shot for him to admit how he felt the first time, just thinking about saying those words to her again made his stomach turn.
What if she ignored them again? What if she pretended that it had never happened and he was left right back where he started. He wasn’t sure he could take another few months of her not talking to him, the last time had almost killed him.
“Everything?” was all he could manage.
Even then he could hear the word choking in the back of his throat, the eventual sound coming out as something that half-resembled a strangled cat.
‘Yes,’ she whispered in response, avoiding looking at him.
Her attention was suddenly fully into her wine glass, her body facing away from his, where it had been leaning towards him only twenty minutes earlier.
‘I know.’
It was the truth and he suddenly didn’t see any point in hiding that from her anymore. She looked at him, not in surprise that he knew, but seemingly in realisation that the conversation she had just started was actually happening.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘We shouldn’t be having this conversation.’
He didn’t know how to respond to that; she was the one who had brought it up, and he was the one who had previously put everything on the line. They needed to talk about it, the tension between them was building to the point of explosion and he knew that it was either this or some kind of huge fight that would result in neither of them ever speaking again.
Honestly he preferred this.
He wanted to reach across and touch her arm, to comfort her, and to be reassured that she was real, that they were actually sitting in his lounge room having this conversation.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
He knew any move to reach out to her would send her running quicker than he would be able to react.
So he kept his distance.
Physically.
‘Kate, I know…you know…’ he paused, fully aware that his words were as vague as they possible could be.
For a few moments they fell back into silence as she looked into his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing there; confusion? A struggle within herself to decide what should happen next.
She almost smiled. ‘I thought I was doing a really good job at hiding it.’
‘There’s not much you can hide from me,’ he wasn’t sure the words were the right ones until a smile did actually break her expression.
But only for a moment.
‘I don’t…I don’t know,’ she whispered.
She didn’t specify what she didn’t know, but he didn’t need that information. He had a feeling that she was having a conversation with herself as much as she was with him, and he knew the best thing was to just let her.
‘Rick…’
She looked away now and suddenly he felt concern. A few seconds earlier he had been convinced the conversation was heading the way he wanted it to, but suddenly he felt that knot tying itself back in place in his stomach.
Her tone of voice was saying something he didn’t want to hear.
‘I think you are an incredible person,’ she continued, now letting her eyes meet his. ‘I think you’re smart, funny, ruggedly handsome and any other cliché you can think up.’
‘I can think up quite a few,’ he interjected, regretting doing so instantly.
She didn’t seem to mind.
‘I honestly enjoy spending time with you, at work, outside work. You are the one person who always treats me the same, no matter what. Half the time you’re what makes it easy to get up and go to a murder scene when everything just seems too much.’
Taking a break she glanced at her wine again, swirling it around in her glass, thinking.
He had to admit, he didn’t mind hearing a single word of what she was saying, but the overwhelming feeling that there was a giant ‘but’ coming was gnawing away at him slowly as she spoke.
He almost wished she would just stop there.
‘We have a huge connection. Everyone can see it, we both know it’s there…’ she looked back up at him. ‘I love you, Rick, but I can’t.’
The only thing he could feel at that moment was blank; she was sitting in front of him, the woman he was completely and utterly in love with, telling him how she loved him, but that she couldn’t be with him.
It wasn’t a surprise, he knew that, there was honestly very little he didn’t know about her, but to hear the words said out loud was something else. He didn’t even know how to react to that, he couldn’t recognise the emotion at all.
All he could identify was a distinct feeling of being lost.
‘I know,’ he replied, repeating his words from earlier.
Anything he wanted to tell her suddenly seemed redundant. He wanted to leap across the couch and kiss her, convince her that she was wrong and that she did want to be with him. But he couldn’t do that. He knew he shouldn’t even be thinking about doing it.
She just wanted to be his friend, that’s what she was saying.
He didn’t understand, looking into her eyes he could see it all. The longing, the admiration, the desire; he could see she was as in love with him as he was with her.
Yet it wasn’t going to happen.
Suddenly the reality of the situation seemed incredibly unfair. He wanted to slap her, or maybe he wanted to slap himself, and bring them both back to the real world. Or the real world the way it had been a few hours prior.
“You don’t want to be with me, Rick,’ she continued. ‘I can’t properly be with someone because my life is my mother’s case. Whether I’m working on it at the moment or not, that is my main focus. And I can’t do that to you…’
He wanted to shout at her ‘but it was okay to do it to Josh?’ He wanted to know why she was so willing to believe that about herself, yet subject that behaviour on anyone else. Anyone but him.
Even though he was the one person who understood it the best.
He was the one who stood by her side as she worked that case, he was the one who had tried to stand between her and the conspiracy. No one else had seen how badly it affected her as he had - yet she chose at the end of the day to go home either to an empty bed, or that of opening welcome arms that knew nothing of what she had gone through that day.
Part of him wanted to believe it was how close he was to the whole thing that led her to push him away.
Unfortunately he knew better.
Words that usually came so easily to him were failing to come at all. He could feel that it was his turn, that she wanted him to talk. But what was the point? Even if he repeated the words, admitted how he really felt, she was still going to home alone at the end of the day.
She wasn’t going change her mind.
‘You know that would never be a problem for me,’ he finally managed. ‘I understand that better than anyone else.’
Normally he knew she would argue, she hated it when he assumed things about her, especially when he said he understood her.
But there was no reaction about that.
Another look, another glance back at her wine glass and he was beginning to be under the impression that he had missed his moment. She was already pulling back in all the words she had spoken and hiding them away in the bank vault where she put her feelings
‘Coffee?’ he asked, suddenly feeling the need to grab some space.
‘That would be nice,’ she replied, leaning her head against the back of the couch and smiling slightly.
Somehow the normalcy of that interaction made him feel slightly more relaxed. Without glancing back at her he made his way into the kitchen.
The wait for the water to boil seemed like an eternity.
What did he have to lose by telling her? What she had said was so much harder, admitting that there was something there, but that she wasn’t willing to act on it. But all he had to do was repeat something that she already knew about. He literally had nothing he was hiding.
That made him feel exposed, bare, but at the same time seemed to give him that courage. And maybe now that he was outside her personal space, he felt the hope creeping back in again.
He finished making the coffees in complete silence, before heading back to the couch to find her.
She was asleep.
He sat down slowly on the couch and looked at her. She looked peaceful, and he didn’t want to wake her, but he hadn’t said what he needed to yet; because maybe it could change her mind, if she knew his feelings hadn’t changed, if she knew that he was willing to stand by her, no matter what.
He had told her a thousand times that he admired her, that he thought she was smart and funny and very, very hot. He didn’t need to repeat that.
But he did need to repeat that he loved her.
Sighing audibly he placed the two coffee mugs on the table, completely losing interest in drinking his.
He grabbed a notebook off the table and scribbled in it for a moment.
Kate,
I did bring you the coffee, but unfortunately you appear to be unconscious. I think it’s my turn to be honest; I am in love with you. You mean the world to me and I can’t imagine living each day without you there. If you think this can’t work, then that’s okay, I can be your friend. I’m not saying I don’t want so much more, but if it’s all I can have, I’ll take it.
Love Rick
He read over for a moment, glancing at the woman asleep on the couch beside him.
He wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t sure he could muster up the strength to actually say the words.
He was a writer.
It felt appropriate.
He folded the note and wrote her name on top. He placed it by her head, before covering her with a nearby blanket and kissing her lightly on the forehead.
He knew the next day it would be as though nothing happened, it had to be, because they both relied far too heavily on each other and couldn’t afford to be without.
But at least he could take away from it that she had said she loved him, that there was a connection between them. He knew he shouldn’t cling, but he was always well aware that he would.
Even if he had to pretend otherwise.
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Castle/Beckett
Words: 1986
Spoilers: 3x24
Summary: 'It had taken her getting shot for him to admit how he felt the first time, just thinking about saying those words to her again made his stomach turn.'
He notices the shift in demeanour, the way she’s suddenly leaning away from him, as if distancing herself. If he’s honest with himself, he’s been waiting for that all evening. He’d noticed it a lot recently, the way that she pulled away when he got close to her; both physically and emotionally.
“I remember everything.”
His insides froze. He had a suspicion this was the reason for her visit that evening, but he hadn’t really expected her to say anything. All he had allowed himself to imagine was the two of them drinking some wine and having a good laugh.
Up until that moment that was exactly what it had been. But now, now it was something else, it was what he wanted to talk about, but he was so afraid to bring up. It had taken her getting shot for him to admit how he felt the first time, just thinking about saying those words to her again made his stomach turn.
What if she ignored them again? What if she pretended that it had never happened and he was left right back where he started. He wasn’t sure he could take another few months of her not talking to him, the last time had almost killed him.
“Everything?” was all he could manage.
Even then he could hear the word choking in the back of his throat, the eventual sound coming out as something that half-resembled a strangled cat.
‘Yes,’ she whispered in response, avoiding looking at him.
Her attention was suddenly fully into her wine glass, her body facing away from his, where it had been leaning towards him only twenty minutes earlier.
‘I know.’
It was the truth and he suddenly didn’t see any point in hiding that from her anymore. She looked at him, not in surprise that he knew, but seemingly in realisation that the conversation she had just started was actually happening.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘We shouldn’t be having this conversation.’
He didn’t know how to respond to that; she was the one who had brought it up, and he was the one who had previously put everything on the line. They needed to talk about it, the tension between them was building to the point of explosion and he knew that it was either this or some kind of huge fight that would result in neither of them ever speaking again.
Honestly he preferred this.
He wanted to reach across and touch her arm, to comfort her, and to be reassured that she was real, that they were actually sitting in his lounge room having this conversation.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
He knew any move to reach out to her would send her running quicker than he would be able to react.
So he kept his distance.
Physically.
‘Kate, I know…you know…’ he paused, fully aware that his words were as vague as they possible could be.
For a few moments they fell back into silence as she looked into his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing there; confusion? A struggle within herself to decide what should happen next.
She almost smiled. ‘I thought I was doing a really good job at hiding it.’
‘There’s not much you can hide from me,’ he wasn’t sure the words were the right ones until a smile did actually break her expression.
But only for a moment.
‘I don’t…I don’t know,’ she whispered.
She didn’t specify what she didn’t know, but he didn’t need that information. He had a feeling that she was having a conversation with herself as much as she was with him, and he knew the best thing was to just let her.
‘Rick…’
She looked away now and suddenly he felt concern. A few seconds earlier he had been convinced the conversation was heading the way he wanted it to, but suddenly he felt that knot tying itself back in place in his stomach.
Her tone of voice was saying something he didn’t want to hear.
‘I think you are an incredible person,’ she continued, now letting her eyes meet his. ‘I think you’re smart, funny, ruggedly handsome and any other cliché you can think up.’
‘I can think up quite a few,’ he interjected, regretting doing so instantly.
She didn’t seem to mind.
‘I honestly enjoy spending time with you, at work, outside work. You are the one person who always treats me the same, no matter what. Half the time you’re what makes it easy to get up and go to a murder scene when everything just seems too much.’
Taking a break she glanced at her wine again, swirling it around in her glass, thinking.
He had to admit, he didn’t mind hearing a single word of what she was saying, but the overwhelming feeling that there was a giant ‘but’ coming was gnawing away at him slowly as she spoke.
He almost wished she would just stop there.
‘We have a huge connection. Everyone can see it, we both know it’s there…’ she looked back up at him. ‘I love you, Rick, but I can’t.’
The only thing he could feel at that moment was blank; she was sitting in front of him, the woman he was completely and utterly in love with, telling him how she loved him, but that she couldn’t be with him.
It wasn’t a surprise, he knew that, there was honestly very little he didn’t know about her, but to hear the words said out loud was something else. He didn’t even know how to react to that, he couldn’t recognise the emotion at all.
All he could identify was a distinct feeling of being lost.
‘I know,’ he replied, repeating his words from earlier.
Anything he wanted to tell her suddenly seemed redundant. He wanted to leap across the couch and kiss her, convince her that she was wrong and that she did want to be with him. But he couldn’t do that. He knew he shouldn’t even be thinking about doing it.
She just wanted to be his friend, that’s what she was saying.
He didn’t understand, looking into her eyes he could see it all. The longing, the admiration, the desire; he could see she was as in love with him as he was with her.
Yet it wasn’t going to happen.
Suddenly the reality of the situation seemed incredibly unfair. He wanted to slap her, or maybe he wanted to slap himself, and bring them both back to the real world. Or the real world the way it had been a few hours prior.
“You don’t want to be with me, Rick,’ she continued. ‘I can’t properly be with someone because my life is my mother’s case. Whether I’m working on it at the moment or not, that is my main focus. And I can’t do that to you…’
He wanted to shout at her ‘but it was okay to do it to Josh?’ He wanted to know why she was so willing to believe that about herself, yet subject that behaviour on anyone else. Anyone but him.
Even though he was the one person who understood it the best.
He was the one who stood by her side as she worked that case, he was the one who had tried to stand between her and the conspiracy. No one else had seen how badly it affected her as he had - yet she chose at the end of the day to go home either to an empty bed, or that of opening welcome arms that knew nothing of what she had gone through that day.
Part of him wanted to believe it was how close he was to the whole thing that led her to push him away.
Unfortunately he knew better.
Words that usually came so easily to him were failing to come at all. He could feel that it was his turn, that she wanted him to talk. But what was the point? Even if he repeated the words, admitted how he really felt, she was still going to home alone at the end of the day.
She wasn’t going change her mind.
‘You know that would never be a problem for me,’ he finally managed. ‘I understand that better than anyone else.’
Normally he knew she would argue, she hated it when he assumed things about her, especially when he said he understood her.
But there was no reaction about that.
Another look, another glance back at her wine glass and he was beginning to be under the impression that he had missed his moment. She was already pulling back in all the words she had spoken and hiding them away in the bank vault where she put her feelings
‘Coffee?’ he asked, suddenly feeling the need to grab some space.
‘That would be nice,’ she replied, leaning her head against the back of the couch and smiling slightly.
Somehow the normalcy of that interaction made him feel slightly more relaxed. Without glancing back at her he made his way into the kitchen.
The wait for the water to boil seemed like an eternity.
What did he have to lose by telling her? What she had said was so much harder, admitting that there was something there, but that she wasn’t willing to act on it. But all he had to do was repeat something that she already knew about. He literally had nothing he was hiding.
That made him feel exposed, bare, but at the same time seemed to give him that courage. And maybe now that he was outside her personal space, he felt the hope creeping back in again.
He finished making the coffees in complete silence, before heading back to the couch to find her.
She was asleep.
He sat down slowly on the couch and looked at her. She looked peaceful, and he didn’t want to wake her, but he hadn’t said what he needed to yet; because maybe it could change her mind, if she knew his feelings hadn’t changed, if she knew that he was willing to stand by her, no matter what.
He had told her a thousand times that he admired her, that he thought she was smart and funny and very, very hot. He didn’t need to repeat that.
But he did need to repeat that he loved her.
Sighing audibly he placed the two coffee mugs on the table, completely losing interest in drinking his.
He grabbed a notebook off the table and scribbled in it for a moment.
Kate,
I did bring you the coffee, but unfortunately you appear to be unconscious. I think it’s my turn to be honest; I am in love with you. You mean the world to me and I can’t imagine living each day without you there. If you think this can’t work, then that’s okay, I can be your friend. I’m not saying I don’t want so much more, but if it’s all I can have, I’ll take it.
Love Rick
He read over for a moment, glancing at the woman asleep on the couch beside him.
He wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t sure he could muster up the strength to actually say the words.
He was a writer.
It felt appropriate.
He folded the note and wrote her name on top. He placed it by her head, before covering her with a nearby blanket and kissing her lightly on the forehead.
He knew the next day it would be as though nothing happened, it had to be, because they both relied far too heavily on each other and couldn’t afford to be without.
But at least he could take away from it that she had said she loved him, that there was a connection between them. He knew he shouldn’t cling, but he was always well aware that he would.
Even if he had to pretend otherwise.