Falling Down

Chapter 1

Richard Castle had never wanted for words. They just came to him. But not now. Not today or in the last week. He was angry, frustrated, fearful and worst of all, tongue-tied. He was stuck in a self-reflective funk. Looking at his life, his words, his deeds. He struggled over a sense of disgust, he'd been so full of himself. Now he was just fed up.

He thought about fire and that trouble was like fire, it burned away the trivial. It eliminated the trappings and left only what is solid. Things that could not bear the heat, were simply gone.

He had run head-long into a fire storm. It changed his view of the world. His former straight-man had been the Universe. He'd bantered it's favor as he explained the fullness of his life to anyone who would listen. He loved telling the tale. The Universe always kept a straight face and carried its part as his great benefactor.

He'd heard it all. Probably said it all. One of the famous spinning their stories of hard work and great discipline, the key to their success.

It was lie. In the end, it was all genetics.

He knew, looking back, that his feet hit the ground with an innate talent that commoners did not possess. Oh took him time to realize it, but it bubbled to the surface. It moved him to the front of many lines. Yeah, there was hard work, and discipline, but take away that natural talent, and he'd be like all the rest. Obscure, lost in the masses.

As of late he had not been sleeping well. This day, he reasoned that he needed get out. To observe the world through fresh eyes. To look around and see life through the eyes others.

He made a one quick stop and began to walk. There was a chill in the air, but the sun had kept peeping from behind scattered clouds and bathed his skin in its warmth. Then it would slip away for awhile. He'd found a spot, just up from the Conservatory Pond. He was surprised at his immediate change in mood and how wonderful it was to be out. He let the vibrancy of Central Park swirl around him. His coffee was hot and he pulled it to his mouth and sipped, then held the cup in place, letting the rich aroma loft upward. Ah, cold air and warm coffee. Heaven on earth.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd just sat in this Park. Basking without urgency. Free of the need to get to the next place. No planing for another meeting. No careful listening to make sure he didn't miss a call. Not on this day. This one was his. A time to relax, to reflect on the beauty of this thing called life.

But he stumbled over his own thoughts and the word 'beauty,' as it pulled him back to reality. Beauty, oh Beauty! It always meant just one thing for him, and was followed with a question. Where was she?

His carefree moment and sense of well being disappeared like wind swept fog. He shook his head, musing that he was seldom free of her. He could scarcely recall a day without considering his own life through the lens of Detective Kate Beckett.

They had been together for over three years. Worked numerous cases and spent endless hours in each others company. From it he had developed an unspoken need for having her near. He'd never told her so and knew that she did not feel the same. But for him, it was always exciting to see her. He loved her warm smile and knew the real smile from the business one. With the former, she sparkled through the cracks.

In those years, they'd talked about everything. Shared secrets which for him was only natural. But she was more restrained and had taken time to open up. He considered her one of his closest friends. He hoped he was on her list of ten, or even twenty friends, but he would certainly not ask.

But their steady dynamic was about to change. Now he needed to talk to her. To tell her everything. He needed her to wade in and help, if she would agree. He had started working on the his words. Considering how he would tell her this story. And thus his current dilmena and funk.

He was well aware there was danger in the telling. He would be exposed, bare and vulnerable. She could decline. But there was no one else. He pushed back, tamped down the emotions and bolstered his resolve to go forward.

He took in the cool air and focused on the task. He would calmly deliver the news, like he'd seen her do it so many times. But on each run through of the story, he was nagged by uncertainty. He didn't know how she would react. Didn't know if she would grant his request. He tried to anticipate her responses. Ran as many scenarios as he could conjure up. He wanted to be ready to rebut any opposition. Wanted to convenience her to help. He wanted her at his side this time. But she always surprised him and he wrestled with the fear that she would do so again. He was not keen on testing the depths of their friendship. It was one thing to think you knew a person, quite another to put it to the test.

It had been a week since his world has started to spin. A week since his make believe universe stepped on him. He was short on time, and knew he had much to accomplish. Kate Beckett was the first step.

XX

Eight Days Earlier

He stared at the piece of paper he held loosely in his hand. There was nothing elegant about it. It was just a form. Information printed. Period. Nothing more nothing less. He thought it should at least have been on bond paper, so it could be held up and let the light revea an elegant watermark. Not today, what he held was cheap printer paper.

If it was his story, the news of one's end would be artfully conveyed. Specially wrapped. But this news, his own real life story, was handed across a messy desk. Doctor to patient. The weight of it's contents etched on his doctor's face. The news was not good. In fact, it was terrible. He had been examined and the tests were back. His days were reduced to an estimated percent of a five year survival rate.

The doctor explained, listed options and suggested that he not lose hope. But the unspoken implication was, 'plan for the worst.' When he pressed for a time frame, the question was initially ignored. He watched as this learned practitioner, skirted the issue for this day. Castle assumed he had been served enough bad news for one twenty-four hour cycle.

"Doctor let me ask you, if I go home and do a Google search on, 'Stage three liver cancer survival rates..."

Dr. Plentes immediately held up his hand, "Don't do that Rick." Then the tall thin physician stood and walked to the front of his desk, perching on the edge, "My estimate, based on other patients I've treated, is somewhere between one year and five. As I said, we have options, but we need to get started," He paused and for moment looked out the window, then back, "But honestly, the time frame...just depends."

XX

Detective Kate Beckett was puzzled. Her partner was off his game. He'd been late twice in three days and he looked like he hadn't been sleeping. When she asked, he said he'd been writing, got lost in the moment, and had stayed up too late. She didn't buy it.

By Thursday, she was beginning to worry, and he was uncharacteristically quiet. "Castle, you don't look good...you really OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine...beginning to wonder if I might have...the flu thing."

Her eyes popped up, "You better not bring the flu in here. I'll get Espo to whup you."

He teased her, "What's wrong Detective...losing your edge...need to sub-out the beatings."

"I can whip you anytime Castle, Espo just needs some practice. He's getting soft."

He offer a weak chuckle, "You have time for lunch?"

"I work with you all day," she paused to stare at him, "and now you want me to eat with you too?"

He was not in the mood, "Never mind Beckett, had something to tell you...and something to ask?" His doubts returned.

"A mystery?" shaking her head, "Not today Castle, got some running to do? Maybe tomorrow."

"I can't tomorrow, a have a meeting at Black Pawn and...oh and you have a hot date." He looked away at the mere thought, "We'll do it next week."

"Sounds good. We'll squeeze it in."

XX

His Friday afternoon appointment was not with Black Pawn, but with his oncologist, Plentes. So this along with Beckett's date, was going to make this a bad day all around.

The meeting lasted for an hour and included another doctor whom Plentes had brought in. The discussion focused on treatment options for liver cancer patients.

Castle listened and at the end asked statistically how things changed with surgery and without? With chemo, or radiation, and without?

Plentes responded, as in the prior meeting, "We don't know precisely, but we know there are things we can do that will extend your life." Holding up his hands, "It's a balancing act."

Castle leaned forward with his hands on his thighs, elbows out, "I would prefer twelve good months over six good and then eighteen bad. My concern is quality of life." He paused, then slowly added, "It sounds like quantity is no longer a viable option."

Again silence but after a moment, the other doctor spoke, "We know these are not easy decisions. Your concerns are the hardest part of our job. There is no crystal ball to help us. We look at the statistics, based on similar diagnostic results, and make the best recommendations we can to halt the cancer, and to extend your life for as long as possible."

He leaned back in the chair, "I need to think about this over the week-end."

Plenty's injected. "That's fine, but let me add, we have counselors who can help...at least someone to talk to and sort these things out."

"Gentlemen I'd like to call you on Monday or Tuesday, I just need the week-end. I have a couple people I can bounce things off of, but thanks for your offer." He really thought, I have one and she's too busy.

"We understand. But sooner rather later."

"Thank you doctors, I do understand the urgency."

XX

It was Saturday and her intent was that it would be a leisurely one. Still in a pair of sweats and team jersey with her hair pulled back in a pony tail, she was curled on the sofa. When the phone shook her first thought was, 'Please no bodies today,' but then remembered she was not on call this week-end.

She pickup the phone and read the message, KB need to see you. Can we meet? RC.

She groaned and a typed, more like stabbed, Sure on Monday.

Her phone pinged, Not Monday. Wouldn't ask if it were not important.

She plopped the phone down and pressed the heels of her hands in eyes and rubbed.

Grabbing the phone of she typed, Castle I can't today, I have to meet my dad at 11:30 for lunch!

The response was immediate. How about 1:30, you tell me where?

She hit speed dial, he answered on the second ring, "Castle are you trying to drive me nuts. It's Saturday morning, I just need to do nothing, except for lunch with my dad."

Her heart leaped when she heard him speak, his voice was strained, distant, "Kate...I'm in a pinch and need to talk to you, today."

Sitting up, she wondered if he was hung over or, she didn't know what, with the impatient tone gone, "What's wrong Castle?" Is it Alexis? You're Mom?"

"No, they're fine." He paused, she waited. "I wouldn't ask if it could wait."

Her shoulders slumped and she giving up, "You know where my Dad and I always eat, there's a coffee shop around the corner, it's called..."

"I know the place."

"OK, I'll see you there at 1:15."

"Thank you Detective."

She starred at the phone and shook her head, thinking his voice was just weird. Then, if this is a trick, I'll beat him.

XX

Beckett and her dad met every Saturday possible, baring a case on her part, or his practice calling him out of town. After they'd finished, she smiled, trying to repress a laugh, as the waitress bused their plates.

"What's so funny over there?"

"You know Dad we order the exact same thing...every time we eat here?"

"If ain't broke Katie, don't fix it. The food's as good as it gets."

"Every time?"

"You know, you could be the first to venture out?"

She laughed, "Nah, I like Patty Melts."

As he sipped at his coffee, he offered up, "So a hot date last night, and Castle this afternoon, you've got men hanging on you like a clothes line."

She just shook her head, "First, Castle doesn't count, and the other guy was a hot shot doctor I've spent two hours with before he was called back to work. There are no men. Just work."

He shook his head, "That's your fault."

"And how is it my fault Dad?"

"My guess...you've taken the idea of tomorrow, to a new level."

She shook her head, "I'm too busy. I don't have time for a boyfriend, let alone a serious relationship."

He was silent for a few moments, then took a sip of coffee, and sat down the cup. "Katie, don't miss this, for some allusive pie in the sky."

"This?"

"You and I. We are here because two busy people took the time to find each other, to fall in love...and I now get to spend my Saturday's with the product of their love, you."

"I know Dad, I just meant, time is..."

He held up his hand, "This, is the most important hour of my week. I get to see both you and your Mom." He paused struck momentarily by the weight of what he had said. "Don't miss this my love."

"I won't. I promise."

"Good." He smiled and patted her hand. "So tell me what's bothering you."

She looked at her coffee cup, stirred the half full cup of liquid, "Something's up with Castle. He really bugged me to meet with him today, but he sounded...almost. I don't know, weird."

"Did you not want to see him?"

"Dad we spend Monday through Friday together, and some week-ends, depending upon the cases. My goal for today was you, and then to veg out. So no, Castle was not on my list."

"What do you mean he bugged you?"

"He asked me on Thursday to go to lunch he wanted to talk to me. I blew him off. Then he was gone Friday and I had the date thing. When he texted me today, I called and was giving him grief. And then, he called me, Kate, which he never does, and said it was important. Or he wouldn't ask."

"Hmm, interesting." He tapped the heel of his hand on the table, "We better wrap this up. You need to run to your next man."

She tossed her napkin at him, "He's not my man."

Her father just laughed, "Right, whatever you say Katie."

XX

Castle arrived at the small coffee house at 12:45. He brought his tablet along to do some more research on treatment options while he waited for Beckett.

At 1:05 he sensed her next to him. Without turning his head he said, "Hey Beckett."

She swatted his shoulder, "How did you even know it's me? Could of been a distraught fan."

"Your shampoo."

She sat across from him and pulled her hair up to her nose, "It's that strong."

"No, I just know what your shampoo smells like, I've always liked it."

"Well thank you Mr. Castle." Placing her voice a little deeper than normal and sounding formal.

"Mr. Castle? What's that about?"

"OK!" Her voice back to normal with an added edge of impatient, "What's so important that you have to steal my Saturday?"

She scolded herself as she heard her own words come out overly harsh. She was not that bothered. But he didn't have to know. He looked at her, then his focused changed. It was as if he were seeing through her. Before he could speak, she leaned forward. "Castle," her voice betraying her concern, "What's going on...I've never seen that look on your face. What is it?"

He began slowly, "I'm not sure...how to say this...or...what these words will sound like..."

Her eyes widened, her concern now overtaken by a nagging fear, "If you're trying to scare me...you're getting there."

"No! No, I am not trying to scare you...it's me who's scared and I'm stumbling all over my own words." He paused and took a breath, "Even after I practiced." Then his eyes drifted down to his cup of coffee.

At first she did not speak, but just looked at him, "Castle why in the world would you need to practice words...for me? You're the writer here."

He pushed her question aside, "Beckett I need your help? I have to make a decision," again pausing, "And I have no idea what to do."

"What decision?"

"First I have to explain…" But then he came to a full stop. He felt a surge of anger over this stumbling, "Kate, I have cancer and I..."

She reached across and grabbed his hands, "Stop! What do you mean you have cancer?"

"I've been feeling tired and listless lately...went to see a doctor...he ran tests, it's liver cancer." He pulled the lab result from his pocket and handed it to her.

She took the paper and read it. Then placed it on the table between them. Smoothed it, and then smoothed it again. She performed the ritual three times, and then shut her eyes.

It was now fourteen years past. Her world had skidded to a stop. The news was unbearable. Her mom was dead. She had struggled to believe, struggled to grasp what she was hearing. But before she could even think clear, she was struck by a second blow. A surge of physical pain. From no where a giant, invisible vise clamped down on her chest. Squeezing the breath out her. The pain was sharp. She scratched at her shirt thinking it was the constricting force. She tried to breath, but didn't have the strength to push against the crushing pressure. It was beyond her control, then she heard a voice, her fathers telling her, "Just breathe Katie, just breathe."

And now, at Castle's words and the lab results, it was all back again. That same struggle. She'd forgotten, or made herself forget, how overwhelming it had been. Again recalled the shock and the trembling. She thought she heard her dad again and forced open her eyes, slowly. The voice was not her dad, but Castle, leaning across the table, wide-eyed, saying something. Shaking her head, she struggled to listen.

"Beckett, Beckett, are you OK?" She could see the panic on in his eyes.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, felt the air flood her lungs, the constriction ease. When she started to speak, she felt the a tear begin to run down her cheek, she croaked, "Castle, no...no."

AN: This story began in 2017 and an AU. The plan was to be short. That didn't work out. It is self-edited, the mistakes are mine. As with all stories it flows from my life experiences. If any reader is easily offended by some interactions with people and places, please don't read any further. There are plenty of writers, Amazon is open for business. For those who remain - hope you'll enjoy. Madreag.