As Kate passed through the lobby of Castle’s apartment building ahead of him, she tried to process her complexity of emotions. The first was obvious. Raglan had been shot. And killed. And with him went whatever secret he was about to share. The despair there was obvious, as was the heartbreak and undeniable sense of failure that came to her whenever she thought about her mom’s case. What was it she was missing? Why did this case have to be the one she could never solve? What was the file her mom withdrew before she died, the one that had subsequently gone missing? Why did she have to die? She could hear Rick –Castle, she admonished herself, not Rick, Castle—catching up so she quickly moved on. Kate had a feeling he could read her better than anyone else in her life. Like he could see through her, past the defenses she put up, and deep into her soul. She didn’t like that he could do that, it made it very hard for her to think about anything else when he was around. Her mother’s case wore on her every day, all day, and it was all she could do to focus on the present sometimes. And with Castle around, she felt she had to focus even harder on not letting her emotions through. Because with him, well, with Castle she just wanted to let go, let him in, let him help her. But then again he was Castle, and could she trust him with her heart? He’d been married twice before and went to the Hampton’s with Gina. And he was still with Gina. And I’m with Josh, she thought. But that wasn’t the point. Was it? Castle was impulsive, he spent his time joking and pointing at shiny objects. It was a rare occasion when he was serious and thoughtful. Though, those rare occasions seemed to pop up more and more recently. Like back in the diner when he had been so terrified that she’d been shot. Or just upstairs in his apartment? This is about you, he’d said. What the hell did that mean? The literal part of it was obvious, but the look in his eyes when he’d said it. Those blue eyes seemed to say everything in that moment, and she was surprised in what she read. Could he really? She wondered. No, of course not. That was preposterous. Castle had the emotional propensity of a teaspoon, his comment in the hallway had proven that. Then again, he’d only smiled when she had. She shook her head. She was thinking much too hard about that.
“Want to share what’s on your mind, Detective?” Castle’s voice shook her out of her reverie. When did he get here?
“I—what?” She asked.
“You’re brows are furrowed and you’re chewing your bottom lip like you do when you’ve got all those serious thoughts.” He said by way of explanation.
Kate looked over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. God those eyes were beautiful. Stop it, she ordered herself. “I was just wondering what Ragland was going to say about what happened nineteen years ago. It was seven years before my mom died, so what was so big that it still mattered seven years later?”
Castle was quiet as they both got in her car and she drove in the direction of the precinct. Kate looked over at him after a few minutes and found him staring out the window? Her brows wrinkled together in confusion. Silence was unlike him, but staring at the streets as she drove passed was even more so. “Castle?” She asked.
“Hm? Oh, I was just think about what you said. About what happened being so big that they needed to keep it buried.”
“What about it?”
“I was thinking about the story behind it. You know how in a book or even a tv show, when the villain gets tricked into confessing, the motive he always gives is something so small, so ineffectual you wonder why it mattered so much. The cop always says in return how it wasn’t worth the choice he made.” He paused long enough to look at her and gauge her reaction before continuing. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying that the reason for the biggest change in your life might be something small in comparison for the damage it’s done.”
