Chapter 27 - F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Lizzy… Sweet Pea - come on now. You have to eat this. I don't get it, you usually love it when Mommy gives this to you. Please do it for me." He sighed heavily and leaned down again. Feeding a seven month-old at 8am when you are barely awake yourself, isn't as much fun as you would think. Especially if you're a writer who was busy writing until three in the morning. Kate was much better at doing this than he was. With him, it seemed like Lizzy was just trying to test him, to see how far she could push her father.

"You know you're mother is just gonna come in here anyway and give this stuff to you. So you might as well get it over with, Kiddo," Rick muttered as he tried once again to coax her into opening her mouth for the spoonful of oatmeal cereal. And again, she stubbornly refused, turning her head away. He followed her, trying desperately to gently force her small mouth open; smearing cereal across her chin and round little cheek. For the umpteenth time.
She was not happy with him and he was not happy with her.
He huffed and stood up. What now? He valiantly offered to give her breakfast while Kate took a shower... without him.
He let out a heavy sigh. Well Richard Castle wasn't about to give in that easily. Especially not against a miniature human being. An incredibly adorable, heart-melting miniature human being with his eyes, mind you.
"Elizabeth Johanna Castle, you are just as stubborn as your mother," he commented, bending towards her again with the dreaded spoon of oatmeal.
"Excuse me?" He jumped at the sound of his wife's voice.
Rick turned around and smiled at her sheepishly. "Ah… heeyyy, Honey. Did you enjoy your shower?" She was watching them from the edge of the stairs, wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a comfortable white t-shirt. Her still-damp hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. He had to resist the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back upstairs... to bed.
She raised an eyebrow as she glanced at her oatmeal-smeared baby girl and then back to said baby girl's (rather irresistible) father who was sporting incredibly cute bed-hair, a sexy stubble and who was still clad in boxers and a navy sleep shirt. A form-fitting navy t-shirt. Underneath that form-fitting navy t-shirt was a really muscular, hard-
"Castle, did you get any of that in her mouth?"
He glanced back at his daughter, spoon still in hand. "Uh, guess not." He shrugged guiltily. "But it was all her fault," he quickly retorted like a petulant child, now pointing the spoon in Lizzy's direction. At the same time, both turned to look at her with twin pairs of cobalt blue eyes; each appealing to her for mercy. They were the picture of innonence.
Kate bit her lip in an effort not laugh at the sight. Her heart all but melted at the two's combined adorableness. Like father, like daughter. How was she ever going to win against them? She was already dreading the days where they were going to team up against her with those similar puppy-dog expressions...
Yep, Kate Castle was doomed.
She shook her head with an amused smile and walked towards her husband. "You two are hopeless. Here, let me." He happily handed over the spoon. "In return for relieving you from this burden, I would like pancakes. Golden brown pancakes with strawberries and-"
"Cream?" He offered with a sly grin. Kate playfully slapped him on the chest and narrowed her eyes.
"No. Get your head out of the gutter. I would like mine with butter and syrup... Besides-" Her mouth curved up into a devilish grin. "-strawberries and cream are strictly for recreational purposes. You know - the kinky kind after 8pm. Adults only. No clothing."
His impish grin grew wider. "Oh, I know the kind very well. It's my favourite pastime." He stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Mmmm, mine too." They shared a lingering kiss before Lizzy's excited squeal broke the moment.
"Hey, do you mind? If it wasn't for that, you-" He pointed a finger at his little girl. "-wouldn't be here."
Kate threw her head back and laughed; the sound was musical and his breath caught because of it. After a moment, she looked at her husband again. Rick was staring at her smiling mouth with unbridled desire. Her stomach tightened because of it.
She cleared her throat and his eyes snapped back to hers. "Castle, those pancakes aren't going to make themselves. Now get going. I wanted it five minutes ago."
He grinned again and pulled her to him. "Whatever you want, Mrs. Castle. Whatever you want." He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against her mouth. "Do you know how incredibly hot you are and how it turns me on when you're being so demanding?" he said against her mouth, his grin widening.
She smiled. "Yeah and don't you forget it, Mr. Castle," she murmured before brushing her lips against his one last time. "Now stop distracting me so I can feed our daughter."
"Yes ma'am." He mock saluted her. She rolled her eyes.
She turned back to her baby girl and raised an eyebrow sternly.
"Alright, young lady, time to eat your breakfast." Lizzy giggled at her mother and Kate laughed as she bent over. "Oh no you don't. I see what you're doing. You're trying to charm your way out of this just like your father, aren't you?" She said smiling broadly at her daughter. Lizzy squealed and flopped her small arms around. "Well it's not working, Cupcake. It may work on Daddy-" she glanced up at her husband at the other end of the kitchen. He turned around and smiled at them. "-but not on me," she concluded, looking at her daughter once more. Lizzy was now gurgling (and drooling) while watching her mother with wide-eyed fascination.
Rick shook his head and turned back to his activities. Just as he was about to start on the pancakes, his phone rang. Kate let out a chuckle as he picked it up; he glanced at his wife and daughter as their laughter sang throughout the loft and smiled broadly.
Yeah, he was aware of it. He didn't need anyone telling him that Richard Castle was one lucky bastard. He knew that he was.
And honestly? If anyone asked, he really didn't do anything to deserve it.
Rick glanced down at his phone and frowned. It was an unknown number. He waited a moment before answering. "Hello?"
"Good morning. Is this Richard Castle?"
He watched as Kate made train noises and animatedly tried to convince their daughter to allow the oatmeal train to enter her mouth. It usually did the trick. "Yeah, the one and only." He smiled. The other person on the end of the line didn't laugh.
"Mr. Castle, my name is Roger Calland. I'm Damian Westlake's attorney."
At that, the smile dropped from his face. Kate, who happily glanced up at her husband, noticed the change in his demeanor and her brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but Mr. Westlake has passed away."
Rick slowly rocked back a few steps until his back hit the kitchen counter. For a moment, things felt a little fuzzy. A little distorted. A little upside down. He let out a shaky breath. "When?" His voice was quiet and rough. It alarmed Kate. She immediately stood up and walked a few steps towards her husband; he was pale and his eyes were as big as saucers.
"Last evening."
"What happened?" He rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, eventually resting it against the back of his head. His disturbed eyes caught Kate's concerned ones, before it darted away from her.
"He committed suicide."
Rick turned around, briefly closed his eyes and dropped his hand against the counter. The only sounds that he was aware of were the ticking of the kitchen clock, Lizzy's happy babbling and the blood rushing in his ears.
"How?" His voice, raw with emotion, wavered slightly.
"They found him this morning, hanging from the window bars... He used his sheets. It must have happened after lights out."
Rick shook his head and swallowed. He could feel his throat starting to tighten and his eyes starting to sting. "Uh, why- why have you called me?"
There was a moment of silence at the other end. "You were listed as the only next of kin, Mr. Castle."

[][][]

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Kate asked, concern lacing her voice.
"Uh, no. I- I'll be fine," Rick responded distractedly while he put on his jacket. He seemed lost.
She saw it. The sadness, the regret... the guilt. She saw it in his eyes, read it in his whole expression. Felt it in his movements. She sighed and got up. Lizzy was playing at their feet on the rug. Rick was watching his daughter with a soft (and slightly sad) expression. He ignored his wife's penetrating gaze - she saw through his defenses and he didn't want her to read him like a book right now.
Kate smoothed a hand over his chest and fiddled with the collar of his jacket. When she spoke, her voice was soothing and gentle. "Rick, listen to me, you-"
He briefly shut his eyes and caught her hand in his. "No, please just don't right now." He reopened them and locked his cobalt pair with her olive counterparts. She wanted to protest, but he raised a hand to cut her off. "Please just... I can't hear that right now, okay?" He was struggling against the burning sensation in his throat. He was struggling against the tears. He was struggling against the reality.
She desperately wanted to contradict him, desperately wanted to tell him that he didn't have to feel the crushing guilt. It wasn't his fault. Damian Westlake's descent wasn't his fault. Richard Castle was a good man. Better than most. The best one she knew. By far.
But instead, she respected his request. She chewed on her lower lip and nodded her head, not trusting her voice as she felt her vision starting to blur. He was hurting, so she was hurting as well. When he bled, she bled. Whe he suffered, she suffered.
He pressed a tender kiss against her forehead, more for his comfort than hers. "I'll see you later," he mumbled hoarsely, his breath swirling in her hair. She nodded silently again and he released her.
When Rick reached the door, she spoke. "Hey..." He turned around. "I love you."
He smiled softly at his wife. The love of his life. Mother of his child. Inspiring muse. Kate. His Kate. "Love you too."

[][][]

A few hours later...
A box. One, single, pathetic box.
That was all that remained of Damian Westlake. It was rather sad that this was what a man who sought wealth above all else had been left with.
Rick stared at the last of Damian's possessions for what felt like an eternity, glass of scotch in his hand and an old Edgewood Academy yearbook open on his lap. The focus of his attention, however, was on a small envelope. His name was scrawled across the slightly yellowing paper. It was a letter. Addressed to him. From his fallen hero. And it was lying on top of a pile of books (that included some of his as well)... and two handwritten manuscripts. Damian had written two 'books' while he was in prison. Rick felt a sense of... pride - for lack of a better word - that his old mentor had given the written word another chance.
A ghost of a smile crossed his features as he raised his glass in an unacknowledged salute to the manuscripts.
"Rest in peace," he said quietly before quickly throwing the liquor down his throat; the burning sensation making him shudder slightly and grimace.
He blew out a breath and sat back in his chair, his mind replaying fond memories of his time as a schoolboy. The smile that developed because of his nostalgia, however, faded slowly as the reality of Damian Westlake's end came back to him.
If only he had-
Just as the thought occurred to him, he heard the door to the loft open and the muffled sound of his wife's voice as she spoke to their daughter.
Rick glanced at his watch and then back at the bottle of scotch. He'd been back for almost an hour. How many glasses-
Oh.
Just three. Good.
He didn't want to be drunk in the middle of the day. Wifey wouldn't be too happy about that. Or maybe she would overlook it given the circumstances...
Nah, at first she'd grill his ass. And then provide a shoulder to cry on.
He smiled slightly and stood up.
"You wanna play for a while, baby girl? Okay, let's put you down," Kate said as she lowered Lizzy into her playpen that was standing in the living room. They went to a see Dr. 'Little Humans' Montgomery today for a check up since Lizzy had started teething a few weeks before. And so far, so good.
Mommy and Daddy had their fingers crossed though... Tightly crossed. Getting her into a sleeping pattern and having the semblance of a normal one for themselves had been hard enough.
"Ah! Look who I have here, Honey Bun!" Kate exclaimed, pulling Snuggles out from behind her back while her whole face lit up with a large smile. Lizzy squealed and clapped her hands in anticipation. She never grew tired of Snuggles, her constant companion, closest friend and trusted confidant.
Rick was leaning - arms folded - against the doorframe of his study as he watched his wife; she was bent over the playpen (much to his appreciation), gently nuzzling Snuggles into Lizzy's tummy causing the seven month-old to giggle hysterically because of it. Kate was laughing brightly, beautifully, infectiously at her baby girl's little cackles of delight.
He smiled at the sound and idly wondered when they would start on another baby. If she was going to continue to be this incredibly adorable with their daughter, he really didn't want to waste another minute in getting her pregnant again. And why wait? He wanted life around him. Adventure. Happiness. Family...
But he was aware that this was either the booze or the grief talking.
Probably a little bit of both.
Kate was completely oblivious to anything outside of the bubble that enveloped her and her mini-me. She only became aware of Rick when she felt his warmth and smelled his cologne as he leaned over her; effectively engulfing her with his large presence.
"Hey," he said softly into her ear before placing a gentle kiss in her neck.
She turned her head slightly and offered him a tentative smile. "Hey." She watched him for a moment as he watched Lizzy. He didn't say anything. He didn't want to. Right now, he just wanted to be wrapped around his wife and watch his little girl play. He needed that. Needed them.
Contrary to popular belief, Richard Castle wasn't much of an emotional sharer. He was more so than Kate, but still not an easy person to get to open up. Right now, to the untrained eye, he seemed fine. On the surface his expression gave little away. However, she has made it her mission to study every line, every nuance, every detail and engrave them on the slates of her mind. They were worth a thousand words to her. He was an open book to her. And right now she could read that he was silently grieving.
And feeling guilty.
She left Snuggles in Lizzy's little groping hands and turned in his arms to fully face him. Rick was purposefully avoiding her gaze as he kept his eyes on Lizzy (now lying on her back with Snuggles on top of her while she frantically kicked her small legs in utter excitement). Only when Kate lightly traced a hand over his cheek did his eyes meet hers.
When she spoke, her voice was low and tender. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He watched her for a moment, his gaze slowly sweeping over her graceful features. It lingered on her slightly parted lips. Her soft, sensual, slightly parted lips. He didn't want to talk, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to get lost in her, even if it was just for a moment. And so he did. Forcefully pulling her closer to him, he crashed his mouth onto hers for an intense, all-consuming, moan-inducing kiss. Unfortunately for Rick, Kate knew that he was trying to deflect attention away from what she had asked him.
She put a hand on his chest, broke away from his mouth and went on to rest her head on his shoulder. They were both breathless and heaving. Finally, after her heart rate steadied, she looked up at him.
"You know you can talk to me, right?"
He sighed and put his forehead against hers. "I know. Just... give me some time, okay?"
Kate returned a flicker of a smile before planting a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Okay. When you're ready, I'll be here."

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Ricky,
I've probably written this letter a thousand times, never finding the right words, the correct flow, the perfect prose. To think I once considered myself a writer and your mentor. You always had a better way with words, didn't you? Anyway, think of this my remorse. My apology to you.
I have made many mistakes in my life and I'm paying the highest price for them now. I haven't achieved anything and I'm probably going to out of this world without leaving a legacy. Without leaving anything to be remembered by. It's tragic, isn't it? To know that you have wasted your life, to realise that at the end of the day that you have nothing to show for it. Well, Ricky, that's my life, isn't it? I've wasted it. I have nothing to show for my time here except the many sins I've committed.
But I am proud of one thing - that I had at least a small part in the creation of Richard Castle.
I'm glad to have known you, Ricky. You were probably one of the few true friends I've ever had.
I'm sorry for betraying that friendship. I hope you can forgive me in time.
And when you think of the good old times, don't forget about me.
Sincerely,
Damian
He closed the letter and swallowed thickly, his eyes teeming with hot tears. He wiped at them and glanced at the clock on his desk. It was past eleven. He had been in his office for a few hours, mostly reading Damian's manuscripts. It was good stuff. Really good stuff. The man had always been a great talent.
He only had the courage to read the letter addressed to him now. Even though it wasn't long or probably even that moving, it did bring him a sense of closure. And a feeling of loss.
Damian Westlake had been his friend, his mentor, his hero.
'Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy.' And it was tragic just as the man himself had pointed out. A wasted talent and a wasted life.
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired. He was sad. He needed-
Kate.
A photo of a sleeping Kate on the couch with a sleeping and tiny, month-old Lizzy nestled safely on top of her mother's chest, caught his eye. His lips curved into a sentimental, lopsided smile as he traced the picture on the desk with his thumb. He remembered taking it and then afterwards just sitting there, watching them for a few minutes. He had been completely smitten and remembered grinning like an idiot because of it. The memory brought a sense of comfort, of reassurance, of peace.
She brought him that. They brought him that. His family brought him that.
He was a lucky man. They were lucky people.
With that thought, he stood up, taking one more look at the picture before tuning off the desk lamp. Kate had left him alone for the evening, knowing that he wanted and needed time to just be.
But now, he wanted her. Needed her comfort, her reassurance, the peace that she brought.

[][][]

He found her in bed, leaning against the head board and reading one of Patterson's books.
She was waiting for him.
"I see you're cheating on me... again. Guess I should have a word with Patterson about that," Rick said with a smile, pointing to the book in her hands.
Kate glanced up and smiled broadly when he walked in. "Hey... I thought you were never coming to bed." He kicked off his shoes and made his way to their bed.
Rick flashed her a sultry grin. He leaned down over her, bracing his arms on either side of her legs. "With you in it, I'll always come to bed, Lover," he said huskily before leaning in for a deep kiss.
She smiled against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mmmm, good to know... Lover." Silence descended for a few moments. "You okay?" She finally asked, her voice soft while she soothingly weaved a hand through his hair.
He sighed and sat up next to her. He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees while locking his hands together. "Yeah..."
Kate shifted and came to closely sit next to him. "But?" She prompted after a few moment of silence.
"It's just... I feel that I could have done more." He turned to look at her. "I was listed as his next of kin. His next of kin, Kate." He shook his head and turned away from her again. Feeling a vast array of emotions simmering beneath the surface. "I should have visited him more or at least I should have written a damn letter. Maybe if I had done that, he wouldn't-"
"No," she interrupted sharply. "Look at me. Rick, look at me." She placed a hand on his face and turned him towards her, forcing him to meet her eyes. "None of this is your fault. What Damian Westlake did, he did on his own. His descent is not your fault." He started to protest, but she quickly cut him off; taking his face in between her small hands.
"You have nothing, nothing to feel guilty about." She pursed her lips, willing the tears away. "And the fact that he put you down as his next of kin, says something about the type of friend that you are. The type of man that you are." Her voice faltered slightly. His brow furrowed as his cobalt blues glistened with tears. He didn't want to say anything, feeling his throat constrict with emotion.
Kate leaned forward and briefly placed a kiss against his mouth, before resting her forehead against his. "You are a good man, Richard Castle. You understand me? A good man. The best that I know. And you did more than your share for someone, who frankly, didn't deserve your friendship. So stop feeling guilty and stop being so damn hard on yourself." A smile tugged at her lips. "Besides... being hard on you, is my job." He let out a watery laugh at that and kissed her once, twice, three times.
She raised her eyebrows. "Okay?"
He smiled softly and nodded. "Okay."
"Good. Now get your sexy ass in bed, Mr. Castle. I'm cold and tired and need someone to spoon with."
"Aye, aye Detective."
But before he could get up, she grasped his arm. Kate watched him for a moment, moistening her lips. "I love you and I'm here for you, alright? Always. You're not doing any of this alone and you're not getting rid of me."
A broad smile slowly spread across his features.
Gosh, he loved this woman.
He pulled her in for another toe-curling kiss.
"Ditto, Mrs. Castle. I wouldn't want it any other way."

X-X-X-X

The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts and figures

And instructions for dancing

But I, I love it when you read to me

And you, you can read me anything