Chapter Text
2009
(Little Girl Lost Post-Ep)
Beckett watches Sorenson walk away, the warmth of his hand lingering on her shoulder. Think about it. And she knows she will; she'll wonder about all the what ifs and question her decisions – she'll have moments of weakness where she almost breaks, and calls him.
But she won't break. And she won't call him.
Just like last time.
"Nice guy."
She hesitates, gives herself a moment to compose herself, to push the whirlwind of emotions down, and be able to face Castle. Sucking in a breath, she turns, hoping her face, her voice, mask the lingering pain.
"I can see how it wouldn't work, though."
"Really?" she says, her tone dry.
"Sure."
"Huh."
"Handsome, square-jawed, by-the-book."
She resists the urge to roll her eyes. "And that's a bad thing?" The smile tugs at her lips. Castle, it seems, has a unique ability to both irritate her and make her feel better. At the same time.
"Yeah," Castle confirms. "He's like the male you. Ying needs Yang, not another Ying. Ying-Yang is harmony, but Ying-Ying is... a name for a panda."
Pursing her lips while she listens to him, she can't help but wonder if he considers himself the Yang. Instead of calling him on it, she asks, "Any more wisdom, Obi-Wan?"
"Nope. That's it for today. What say we celebrate by going out for a drink?"
He's on his feet now, staring at her with hope in his eyes, waiting. She cocks her head, considers him, considers the alternative of just going home to an empty apartment, and then nods. "Oh what the hell, why not."
"Really?" he asks, surprised.
"Lead the way before I change my mind."
As he begins walking towards the elevator, she falls into step beside him, a small smile playing on her lips. She'll miss Sorenson; having him back had reminded her of what they'd once had – and reminds her why they had never worked, and never will. Castle's wisdom aside, she and Sorenson weren't good for one another, she knows this. Letting him walk away had been the only right choice, but she will still miss him. Like she had the last time he had walked out of her life. When they'd been together, she'd seen a future with him. She'd seen a wedding day, a shared home, a family. She thinks about what could have been, and it tugs at her heart, these images she's recreating. She wants it. More than she cares to admit. And this case, the Candela's, working with Sorenson once more, it had only brought it all to the surface again. It's not even the marriage part she aches for – that's not so important to her. She wants to be a mom, wants to raise a child, can picture herself pregnant, knows she would love every second, and be amazing at it.
She's thirty this year – God, that snuck up on her – and it's silly to even think it, but she swears she hears the ticking of her biological clock, despite her youth. It's not loud, not overpowering, but it's in the background, a soft tick, tick, tick, and it's getting louder, demanding more of her attention with each passing year.
Yes. Getting drunk tonight sounds like a fabulous idea…
…So of course the bar is a dive.
She follows Castle inside, and the air is thick and suffocating around her, rife with the smell of stale beer and body odor. Scrunching up her nose, she throws him a questioning glare.
"You're kidding, right?" she asks, the darkened interior hiding God knows what. The soles of her shoes stick to the floor with each step, and she refuses to look down, refuses to touch anything. She folds her arms across her chest, and waits for his explanation.
"Okay, I know it's rustic but—"
"Rustic?" she scoffs.
"And yes, it's possible it violates a health code or two—"
"Or a hundred," she mutters.
"But…" He raises an eyebrow and grins. "Just follow me."
He throws a wave to the kid tending the bar, and then leads her to a door at the back. She follows him down a hallway, to an elevator, her curiosity a little piqued. She steps into the elevator, and he punches the button for the top floor. She waits for an explanation, but he gives nothing away, just hums some random tune she can't quite place while the rickety box ascends. It stops with a jolt, the doors open, and he ushers her out into another corridor. He's uncharacteristically quiet, the humming has ceased, and it unnerves her.
"Castle?"
"Just, hang on," he says, and then opens the door to the roof, and gestures her through. She steps out onto the rooftop, the cool air a welcome break after the airless bar and the stuffy elevator. She spies a bucket on a small table near the ledge of the roof, and her curiosity moves her legs over to it. Peering down into the bucket, she finds it full of ice and beer, and it makes her smile, pleased the drinking part will still be happening. God, she needs it. Just a buzz, enough to blur the day, and turn the thoughts off for at least an hour or two.
"I called ahead," he tells her.
"But why here?"
He leads her to the railing, and spreads his arms wide. "Because this," he tells her, "is the best view in the city."
Leaning into the railing at the edge of the building, so high up she knows she'll be fighting vertigo if she drops her gaze, she looks out into the city, and takes it in: the sprawl of Manhattan spreading out before her, the skyscrapers like Christmas trees adorned with fairy-lights. Daring to look down, through the spaces where streets squeeze between buildings, the blur of car lights, the flickering of street lamps and the glow of neons, all come together – and she's aware of how rare it is for her to just take a minute and absorb this city. She's so used to it, never thinks about it, and seeing it all now, the lights contrasting against the dark sky, it almost seems foreign to her. And it's spectacular. There's life everywhere, in the movement of vehicles, lights in buildings flicking on and off on different floors as people enter and exit rooms, even the starless sky's inky blackness is dotted with lights as planes pass by high above. She's seeing the city again for the first time from this vantage point that offers a new perspective. It shows her what she is part of, what she would have given up, and it takes her breath away.
"Wow."
"Told ya."
Her eyes gaze out into the endless lights, the lives, the stories behind each glow, something she mightn't have given a second thought to before.
It's only been a few months and already Castle is getting to her, he's inside her head, making her see things differently.
"But why bring me here?"
He doesn't answer immediately, and she dares a glance at him, only to find his own eyes fixed on the city lights. "Just a reminder of what you have here."
"I wasn't planning on leaving," she tells him, her voice low now, like she needs to whisper, like speaking too loud will extinguish the lights and tamper down the beauty. There's truth in her words. She wasn't planning on leaving – this time. But once, before, she had pondered it, albeit briefly, and allowed herself to imagine a different life.
"I didn't think you were," he lies. "This view needed to be shared."
"Thank you," she murmurs.
"Beer?" he asks.
She smiles, turns to him, and finds him watching her now, his eyes torn from the city, studying her instead. "Please."
He's swift with a bottle opener, and hands her the drink. His own is uncapped, he clinks it to hers, and they down the alcohol, both swallowing a generous amount before turning their eyes back to the view before them.
"I once considered a life with him."
"Sorenson?"
His question is unnecessary, but were she in his shoes she's not sure she would have had a different response. "Mmmmm," she hums around the top of the bottle, the air whistling over the glass.
"As in marriage?"
"Marriage," she confirms. "Kids, the works."
"Wow."
"Yeah," she agrees.
"What happened?"
Shrugging, all she can say is the truth. "It would never have worked out."
"Ah."
"Yes." She sighs, and takes a long pull from the bottle, before adding, "Better to find out before committing though."
He lets out a mirthless laugh. "Lucky for some."
She turns to him. "But you don't regret it, your first marriage, I mean. You wouldn't have Alexis."
"I don't regret Alexis."
"Surely there were good times."
"All involved my daughter." He lets out his own sigh. "The biggest mistake we made together was getting married." He turns to her, tilts his head. "You don't really strike me as someone who needs to be married."
"I wouldn't be adverse," she replies.
"And kids?"
She wants to shrug, to be flippant in her answer, but the intimacy of the moment, of the two of them on this rooftop, looking out over the wonderful city she calls home, force her to continue opening up. "I want one. Maybe two. Soon."
He nods, thoughtful. "You'll find the right guy. It wasn't Sorenson, but he's out there."
"You sound awfully sure."
"Because I am." He gives her a light nudge with his elbow. "You've got plenty of time."
She huffs out a breath. "I feel like it's running out."
"What's your timeframe?"
"Hmm?" she asks.
"Is this a five-year plan, or…?"
"Yeah," she agrees. "Five, or three. At least to be a mom."
"You weren't kidding about soon." He gives her a lop-sided smile. "Well," he begins, the words coming out a bit more restrained, and his hesitancy makes her suspicious. "How about, three years from now, if neither of us are otherwise taken—"
"Castle," she warns. "I'm not sure I like where this is headed.
"Just hear me out," he tells her. "No expectations, just the offer that, if three years from now you still feel the way you do today, I would be willing to help out."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Because as your friend, I would want you to be happy. And if that was something that might make you happy, then I would be willing to offer… services."
"Services?" she almost chokes on her drink.
He nods, the smile playing on his lips smug now. "Services."
"Okay then." She turns back to the city, mortified.
"Okay."
"I'm not saying I will take you up on it," she begins, trying to keep her voice even, "but I appreciate the offer for… services." She swallows the last of the beer in one go, and reaches for another. If she's drunk, the awkwardness might disappear.
"As long as we're both single it will remain open."
"So how'd you find this place?" she asks, desperate to change the subject.
"Meredith cheated on me, I considered packing up my life, Alexis, and starting over. I wandered into the bar, desperate to at least get drunk for a few hours while I tried to make sense of what had happened. Chuck, the owner, listened to my story, and sent me up here promising that after five minutes I would never want to leave this city again. He was right." He gives her a soft smile. "I asked how I could thank him for sending me up here. He said one day I would pass this view on to someone who needed it. Pay it forward, he said. Let it remind someone else just what they have here."
"How many have you passed it on to now?"
"Just one," he replies, eyes locked on the twinkling of lights.
Her heart expands in her chest, and his words fill her with warmth. "Thank you."
"I think you needed it. And," he adds, his voice lower, softer, "when you need the other thing—"
"As much as I appreciate the offer, we need to stop talking about you… I'm not going to—we're not going to… ever…" She purses her lips, hoping that somewhere in that broken sentence were enough of the right words.
He just nods, drinks his beer, stands at her side, and absorbs the view. She tries, but all she can focus on now is the fact Richard Castle just offered to father her child.
And she doesn't completely hate the idea.
She's pretty sure she stepped off that elevator and into the Twilight Zone.
Needing space, she steps away, places the still-full beer bottle back into the bucket and gives him a curt nod. "I should go," she begins, her voice faltering. "Thanks for the drink, and the view…" and the offer, she silently adds.
"I'll walk you to the—"
"No," she says, harsher than she'd intended. "I'm fine." Her voice softens as she adds, "Thank you for the view. Goodnight, Castle."
The flash of hurt in his eyes disappears before she can be sure she even saw it, and he gives a slight nod of his head. "Until tomorrow, Detective."
She turns, and closes the gap between her and the rooftop door with long strides. She needs to get out of the Twilight Zone and back to reality. She needs to forget about his offer, leave it on this rooftop, and go back to real life.
She steps into the building, into the elevator, leaves his words behind her, and tries to forget.
But she never forgets.
His words, the offer, linger in the back of her mind.
Time passes, the ticking grows louder, feelings for Castle develop, and three years to the day she finds herself knocking on his door, with one question dancing on the tip of her tongue.