(FIC) Grief - 2/6
Title: “Grief”
Fandom: Castle
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Jenny, Ryan/Esposito, Beckett, Castle
Word count: 981 words this chapter; 5,541 words total
Spoilers: Minor spoilers through “Mistress” (2x16).
Occasion: Fill for a prompt at castlekink . Sorry it took so long =[[
Disclaimer: Some angsty stuff… far more than I had intended to put in, anyway. Despite it being for castlekink , there’s no actual kink in it. Oops.
Rating: PG-13 for language and alcohol consumption
Summary: The five stages of grief aren’t just for people who are dying.
( Denial ) ( ANGER ) ( Bargaining ) ( Depression ) ( Acceptance ) ... ( Death )
Anger.
“We’ve got a movie to catch; I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
So Jenny was real. There she was: all five-foot-three-inches and no more than 110 pounds of her.
Thanks for being such a great partner, she had said. He was a good partner, wasn’t he? He kept his mind on the job, focusing on their partnership and their friendship instead of how much he wanted to put down his case files and hold Ryan’s hand instead or pull him into the break room and kiss him as though it were the last thing he’d ever do.
Keep him safe out there. Esposito nearly laughed; of course he’d keep Ryan safe. He’d been keeping Ryan safe long before this little blonde…thing…turned up in his life, and just because she was now by Ryan’s side didn’t mean that he suddenly wouldn’t be.
“You got it,” he said softly, but even as he made the promise, he knew it would be tough on him. It hurt enough that Ryan actually had a girl. He didn’t want to have to sit beside Ryan and listen as he shared the stories of their latest dates in Central Park, or recounted the tale of their first kiss (again). But while Esposito realized that in the future he might have to excuse himself whenever the “Jenny Report” began, he knew that he would always still be there when Ryan needed him. He always had been; he always would be.
But as he watched them walk off together, hand in hand, pure happiness glowing on both their faces, he couldn’t help feeling a little nauseous. More than a little, in fact: a surge of protectiveness ran through him, something he’d never experienced so powerfully before. Hot anger bubbled to his lips, but he forced it back, held it inside like he held everything else.
“Damn,” he forced himself to mutter, crossing his arms over his now-shattered heart. “If I had a girl like that, I might be whipped by her too.” He didn’t know what possessed him to say the words, but he found them tumbling from his lips anyway. The truth was that he did have someone like that…not a girl, perhaps, but someone all the same.
“Now we know why he didn’t bring her around here sooner.” Castle’s voice seemed a million miles away as the blood pounded through Esposito’s ears, his arms still crossed resolutely.
“So you two wouldn’t act like idiots in front of her,” Beckett commented, moving to her desk and tidying things up, preparing for the close of the work day.
“No,” Esposito replied, fighting to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It’s so we wouldn’t try to steal her from him.” Yeah right, he thought. She was the one who had done the stealing.
- - -
He spent an extra hour at the gym that evening, pounding away at his favorite punching bag, his iPod blaring Metallica in his ears. He kept imagining that the punching bag was a person, though who it was changed with every stroke. They had all hurt him in some way.
The bag became Castle and Beckett - they’d been so warm, so friendly, to the girl that had just butted her way into their lives. Was he the only one who saw that Ryan didn’t belong with her? Did no one else see how much better he would be with Ryan, how well they just clicked, how no one else could just fit with Ryan like that?
Then the bag assumed its identity as Jenny - he didn’t even know her last name and had only said three words to her, and yet loathed everything about her. Why did she have to be so perfect, so fucking perfect? Any other girl, and Esposito would have latched on to her million imperfections, systematically tearing her apart like the dirtbags in his interrogation room, breaking her down until not even happy-go-lucky, too-loving-for-his-own-good Kevin Ryan would want her. With Jenny, though, he couldn’t attack her imperfections because it seemed as though the girl didn’t actually have any, which made him hate her all the more.
And then there was Ryan. Ryan, who had to break his heart like that; Ryan, who didn’t even know how much Esposito cared, didn’t even pick up on his way-too-obvious signs; Ryan, who just had to date the world’s most flawless woman and cling onto her every word; Ryan, who, worst of all, had started sacrificing work time to call her, check up on her, be generally adorable to her. It used to be Esposito who could talk to Ryan at any time about anything. These days, she was the one who always had Ryan’s attention.
Sweaty, angry, and exhausted, Esposito took a quick shower (more of a cold rinse, really) before walking home, his feet making loud flopping noises on the cement as he did. When he got home, he rooted restlessly through his fridge, but didn’t find anything to eat. Growling, he pulled out a case of beer and went through the bottles one by one until he could no longer keep his eyes focused on the TV show that didn’t really interest him anyway. He pulled off his shirt and pants, leaving on his boxers before climbing under the covers.
It took him a long time to fall asleep. At the forty-five minute mark, he made a deep, frustrated grumbling noise in his throat and punched his pillow hard, imagining Ryan’s smiling face on it. How could Ryan do that to him? How could he?! Didn’t he have any idea how much it hurt?
Of course not. Ryan didn’t know a thing. If he did, he wouldn’t have brought Jenny McPerfect around to meet him. No, Ryan wouldn’t do something malicious like that. He would try to make everything better, try to keep everyone happy, like he always did.
Fucking Ryan.