fic: silence [1/1]
Title: Silence
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Castle/Beckett
Spoilers: Set between season two and three
Words: 695
Summary: "She was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like she didn’t care that he was away, that she didn’t need him there, when really he was the only person she wanted around."
Somehow she thinks shooting herself in the foot would be less painful. The longer he was away the worse it got, and she wasn’t sure how distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder - all it was doing was crushing her heart into a tiny little ball with far too much mass for it’s size and she felt like she wanted to explode all day long.
She was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like she didn’t care that he was away, that she didn’t need him there, when really he was the only person she wanted around.
Ironically she needed him to tell her that it was okay that he wasn’t there for her. It made no sense and the frustration of it had her beating up her punching bag twice-daily.
How hard was it for him to call? To send a text and say ‘Hey, I’m back!’ or even ‘Hey! I’m not coming back because I’m going to re-marry my ex-wife and live happily ever after until we remember that we really hate each other and get divorced again’.
That would do.
She wasn’t fussy. She just needed something, anything, to…to what?
To remind her that he was real? That he was thinking about her? That she hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend because of some stupid belief that maybe she was with the wrong guy and she should take a chance because maybe, just maybe, Castle was the guy.
But that never worked, not in Kate Beckett’s life. Things didn’t go her way. Everyone she loved were either with someone else or wound up dead. So why should Castle be any different?
She slammed her boxing glove into the punching bag for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.
It wasn’t that hard, except for men it seemed to be. It wasn’t like they’d had a fight, it wasn’t like she had done anything to offend him. The last thing he had done before walking off into the sunset with his ex-wife was smile at her and tell her he’d see her in the fall.
It was fall.
Not only was it fall, it was well into fall and he hadn’t said a word.
It was like he had completely fallen off the face of the planet.
Maybe he knew, maybe she’d read all the signs wrong and he felt nothing for her, and all the signals she had given to him had served only to scare him off.
But it hadn’t felt like that, that’s not how it had seemed. He had started their friendship, he was the one who decided to follow her around and write a series of books on her. He was the one who called her and emailed her and suggested they hang out.
She’d hung back. She knew how these things went and she didn’t need to fall for anyone, it wasn’t something she wanted and the second she had realised her attraction to him she had tried to hide it.
Afraid he’d see it.
And maybe he had and it had scared him away like everyone else, right back to the arms of a woman he hated.
She kept imagining him turning up at the precinct. At first it had been daydreams about him showing up and her hugging him and everything returning to normal. Then it had become some sort of weird fantasy where he’d turned up and told her he loved her and had made a huge mistake by going away with Gina all summer.
Now all she saw was his face on her punching bag and how she could kick his ass if he ever turned up again.
Common sense said she was being ridiculous, that she could just pick up the phone and call him. But he’d said he’d call and she was stubborn.
And she was afraid.
Afraid that he wouldn’t answer, that she would then be stuck waiting for a return call that might never come.
Or afraid that he’d gone and done something stupid that meant anything she had felt for him before the break was redundant.
Or maybe what scared her was that it wouldn’t.
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Castle/Beckett
Spoilers: Set between season two and three
Words: 695
Summary: "She was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like she didn’t care that he was away, that she didn’t need him there, when really he was the only person she wanted around."
Somehow she thinks shooting herself in the foot would be less painful. The longer he was away the worse it got, and she wasn’t sure how distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder - all it was doing was crushing her heart into a tiny little ball with far too much mass for it’s size and she felt like she wanted to explode all day long.
She was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like she didn’t care that he was away, that she didn’t need him there, when really he was the only person she wanted around.
Ironically she needed him to tell her that it was okay that he wasn’t there for her. It made no sense and the frustration of it had her beating up her punching bag twice-daily.
How hard was it for him to call? To send a text and say ‘Hey, I’m back!’ or even ‘Hey! I’m not coming back because I’m going to re-marry my ex-wife and live happily ever after until we remember that we really hate each other and get divorced again’.
That would do.
She wasn’t fussy. She just needed something, anything, to…to what?
To remind her that he was real? That he was thinking about her? That she hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend because of some stupid belief that maybe she was with the wrong guy and she should take a chance because maybe, just maybe, Castle was the guy.
But that never worked, not in Kate Beckett’s life. Things didn’t go her way. Everyone she loved were either with someone else or wound up dead. So why should Castle be any different?
She slammed her boxing glove into the punching bag for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.
It wasn’t that hard, except for men it seemed to be. It wasn’t like they’d had a fight, it wasn’t like she had done anything to offend him. The last thing he had done before walking off into the sunset with his ex-wife was smile at her and tell her he’d see her in the fall.
It was fall.
Not only was it fall, it was well into fall and he hadn’t said a word.
It was like he had completely fallen off the face of the planet.
Maybe he knew, maybe she’d read all the signs wrong and he felt nothing for her, and all the signals she had given to him had served only to scare him off.
But it hadn’t felt like that, that’s not how it had seemed. He had started their friendship, he was the one who decided to follow her around and write a series of books on her. He was the one who called her and emailed her and suggested they hang out.
She’d hung back. She knew how these things went and she didn’t need to fall for anyone, it wasn’t something she wanted and the second she had realised her attraction to him she had tried to hide it.
Afraid he’d see it.
And maybe he had and it had scared him away like everyone else, right back to the arms of a woman he hated.
She kept imagining him turning up at the precinct. At first it had been daydreams about him showing up and her hugging him and everything returning to normal. Then it had become some sort of weird fantasy where he’d turned up and told her he loved her and had made a huge mistake by going away with Gina all summer.
Now all she saw was his face on her punching bag and how she could kick his ass if he ever turned up again.
Common sense said she was being ridiculous, that she could just pick up the phone and call him. But he’d said he’d call and she was stubborn.
And she was afraid.
Afraid that he wouldn’t answer, that she would then be stuck waiting for a return call that might never come.
Or afraid that he’d gone and done something stupid that meant anything she had felt for him before the break was redundant.
Or maybe what scared her was that it wouldn’t.