![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Sui Generis
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 2,477
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter 7
Kevin didn't even attempt to sleep that night, and though the hours had passed excruciatingly slowly, when morning came he had no idea what to do with himself. His panic had reached a sort of bizarre terminal velocity sometime during the night, spilling into something else he didn't really have a name for. Still frantic, still fearful, but strangely quiet. Like the effort it took not to give in to the hysteria his situation begged left him very little energy in reserve. In a way, it was almost as if he had traveled so far past terror that he had met calm going the opposite direction, and the collision had left him wrapped in a state that fell painfully short of numb, but at least lent him the composure that might—conceivably—let him make it through the rest of the day.
The question, then, became what he should do with it.
He was present enough in his thoughts to admit that returning to work was probably the last thing he should have been contemplating—if for no other reason than because Javier might be there if he did. But right now, Kevin felt he needed something normal. He needed it desperately. He needed a reminder of the life he had lead—of the sane world he had once inhabited before any of this happened—even if that life and that world were an illusion he could never again possess.
And of course, there was always the possibility that his partner might show up at his home—that Javier might come for him while he was alone—and that would have been so much worse. Kevin felt just a tiny bit ridiculous to feel so afraid of that. After all, whatever else Javier had done to him, his partner had also let him leave.
Though the thought whispered cruelly that, in a way, Javier already had what he wanted.
When Kevin finally made his decision, though, it wasn't fear that drove him, not directly. Just the idea of spending the rest of the day alone in his apartment made his skin crawl. The feeling left him unsettled, because he wasn't precisely sure where it was coming from. He didn't know whether it was a simple, human desire to find security in the presence of others, or if the need were something more esoteric and complicated. And maybe that itself was the real problem...
At that moment, Kevin thought he was more afraid of himself than he could ever be of Javier.
In spite of his partner's bizarre awareness of the changes which had occurred inside of him, neither Javier nor Kevin really understood exactly what had been done to him. Neither of them knew how deep those changes went, or what they might mean. And Kevin really didn't know how long he might be able to stand being alone with himself—alone with a body he wasn't sure he knew or understood any more, and whose thoughts, instincts and reactions he feared he might not be able to trust.
Javier was at work when Kevin came in, but his partner seemed content to keep his distance.
Of course, it didn't escape Kevin's notice that both Kate and Castle seemed to have adopted Javier's caution. With Kate the lack of apparent care wouldn't have stood out, she was often subtle in showing her concern. Castle, on the other hand, was inherently nosy, and the writer's apparent lack of curiosity about his long absence was impossibly more disruptive of Kevin's calm than questions could have ever been. Kevin didn't know whether Javier had told them something to inspire that caution, or if they were simply taking their cues from his partner's distance. Either way, it was just one more thing that felt painfully off-rhythm.
One more thing that chafed subtly against Kevin's efforts to pretend things were still—or could ever again be—normal.
Kevin's awareness of that painful disconnect never left him. It surrounded him in the tense atmosphere of the bullpen, in the careful looks others were giving both him and his partner. Javier's story for Kevin's disappearance had been an inflamed stomach ulcer, with additional complications that had required someone there to keep a close eye on his health. Kevin could imagine the fact that Jenny had heard it second hand through Beckett had cast well-deserved suspicion on that story. He had no idea what conclusions Jenny might have drawn—though he was likely to find out sooner or later. Kate would wait, he knew, for him to talk about it when he was ready. She would wait patiently, though not forever, whereas Castle had almost certainly invented some excruciatingly detailed and bizarre story to satisfy his own internal curiosity.
Though whatever the writer might have come up with, it couldn't possibly have been stranger than the truth.
But Javier had clearly failed to hide that he was hiding something, and a temptation like that was something Castle could hardly resist. Knowing Castle, he likely assumed Javier's secrets were meant to disguise some scandalous affair—or possibly a nervous breakdown. The more Kevin thought about it, the writer's present silence spoke volumes as to which it might be.
Of course, his own behavior was painfully supportive of that latter theory.
His partner had hardly spoken a word to Kevin that wasn't directly related to their case—not even when he reached out to hand him a file and watched Kevin flinch. Castle and Beckett had both seen it as well. And the incident was surely on both of their minds later when Kevin returned to his desk wearing two pairs of latex gloves snagged from one of the evidence kits. He was terrified of coming into contact with Javier's skin, afraid of what might happen if that connection sparked between them once again...
Kevin spent most of the day shrunken in on himself, dreading a touch that never came.
"It doesn't have to change anything," Javier finally said, breaking the cautious silence that had built up between them.
His partner's words were quiet, his voice hesitant as if he had been afraid to even speak. Regardless, the sound drew his attention almost violently. He had been too busy looking at the board, trying vainly to focus on their case. He hadn't notice at first when Kate and Castle slipped away—
He hadn't realized they were alone.
When he turned, Javier was still sitting at his desk—still several feet safely away from where Kevin stood. In fact, his partner wasn't even looking at him, and there was something focused in the way Javier's eyes had locked on the surface of the desk in front of him, a tension as if he were desperately trying not to. As if Javier thought that if he approached or even looked Kevin's way he might run.
If he actually was thinking that, it would have been hard to call it inaccurate.
It took Kevin a few moments to decide how to respond. Or whether he even should respond, because responding meant they would really be talking about this, and Kevin wasn't entirely sure he could handle that. Though as he turned his partner's statement—offer?—over in his head, he was unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled out of him, pained and more than a little hysterical, because the words themselves were ridiculous.
"Too late," Kevin said, a harried edge hanging on his voice that hardly sounded sane.
Javier let out a sigh, head turning slightly away.
"I mean, this is where it stops," Javier clarified wearily.
Javier paused, his features set with an expression that was almost determined.
"I'd take it back if I could," Javier said, voice aching with familiar regret that Kevin could taste as if it were his own.
There were so many things his partner wished he could take back. Kevin wasn't even close to the worst, he was just the most recent—though he was also the only victim Javier had ever been given the chance to face.
"If you want—" Javier hesitated on the words, wetting his lips. "If you want, I can ask Gates for a transfer. If I'm at another precinct, there's a chance you won't even have to run into me again."
"No—"
Kevin didn't register his objection until it was already spoken, just barely managing to cut himself off before...he wasn't even sure what else he had been going to say. It occurred to him to wonder, just for a brief moment, if it had even been him saying it. But in spite of the fact that every time he had seen his partner today had left him fighting the mad urge to scream, the thought of removing Javier from his life struck him as somewhat...excessive. And his reflexive, panicked rejection of the idea was certainly suspect, but Kevin was at a loss for how he should deal with that.
Confused well beyond the dimensions of the word, Kevin shook his head.
"I just learned that my partner is a shoggoth or something," Kevin said, very slowly, his voice almost flat despite his words. "Just...give me some time to adjust. Okay?"
And where his earlier interjection hadn't managed to break his partner's resolve in not making eye contact, those last words—or perhaps something concerning in Kevin's voice—finally did. His expression was vaguely surprised, though mostly concerned and wary. Incredibly wary. Seeing that directed his way after all that had happened struck Kevin as monstrously comical. He snorted a short laugh.
"Jesus..." Kevin breathed, shaking his head again as he ran those words back over in his head. "When I read Lovecraft in high school who the hell knew I was arming myself with a vocabulary I'd need one day."
And he was well aware that his babbling was making very little sense, but as the words came free in a frantic rush, they seemed to clear out some of the poisonous tension with them.
"I mean, 'unutterable star-spawned horror' isn't a phrase I thought I'd ever apply in my life, let alone to a friend."
"Are we still friends, Kev?" Javier asked, suddenly interrupting.
And Kevin felt a brief flash of irritation that those were the words Javier had chosen to respond to, but his tone held a faint note of alarmed surprise that made the intense importance of that question impossible to miss. Kevin was silent for a moment, giving the question the attention he felt it deserved. It was out of respect that he answered it honestly.
"I don't know."
It was more than just an answer to the question he had been asked. It was an admission—to himself—that he really didn't know anything anymore. He didn't know what they were now to each other. He barely understood what they were separately. He didn't know exactly what he had become, or what happened next. He didn't know how he could possibly accept the truth of Javier's past—
And yet, at the same time, Kevin couldn't imagine life with out him.
As he tried to dissect that contradiction in his head, he expected to find something foreign—some subtle but definite sign of what had been done to him—but that wasn't what he found at all. Putting his own thoughts on trial, Kevin forced himself to face the fact that the man he had known for more than four years was a lie. The reality was impossibly horrifying, and the pretense behind it downright obscene—
Yet at the same time, Javier wasn't any different than he had been the day they had met. Real or not—human or not—he was still the same Javier Esposito that Kevin had been partnered with years ago. Still the same man who had become his best friend. The only thing that had changed in their scenario was Kevin's perception of his partner based on what he knew.
And what he now knew and had to make his own peace with was the fact that the real Javier Esposito had been a stranger that Kevin had never been—and never would be—given a chance to meet.
Oddly, that realization tickled a memory, one which, mercifully, belonged entirely to him.
When Kevin was a child his mother had told him a story, a sort of family fairytale about a man who had believed he was a changeling. The man had been utterly convinced he was only a copy of the real man, and had refused to be told otherwise. In the end, the man's wife had dealt with his delusions simply by asking him three questions. She asked if he remembered how they had met, how they had married, and if he still loved her. When his answer to all of those questions was "yes", she had told him that it was no different to her than if nothing had changed, and that she could pretend, if he would.
Kevin decided he wouldn't tell Javier that story. It was his, and he intended to keep it close for as long as he could. But it had given him something else to think about.
"I don't know," Kevin said again, running a hand over his face, "but until I do, maybe...maybe I'm willing to pretend."
Especially if it could let him regain some semblance of normalcy, he couldn't help thinking to himself. He might have to if he wanted to hold on to his sanity.
"I can't promise anything," Kevin admitted, "but I can try. I will try, and... I don't know. Maybe we'll figure it out?"
Javier looked him over very carefully as he absorbed the answer, finally giving a faint nod.
"Okay," Javier said, accepting a little breathlessly. "It's less than I'd like, I wont' lie, but..."
Javier gave a faint snort, shaking his head.
"It's a hell of a lot more than I'd hoped for."
Then Beckett and Castle had returned, and that was the last they had spoke about it that day. It was just as well, because Kevin wasn't sure he was ready for more. He didn't think he could have brought himself to ask the questions he had—to address just how much he had changed.
It was something he was still, slowly, figuring out on his own.
Kevin went home with Jenny that night. He begged and pleaded and apologized and threw himself upon her mercy. They made up. They made love. Jenny told him that she loved him. But the words and even the act itself felt almost empty to him. It was one thing to be told or shown that someone loved him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to forget how, with Javier, he had felt it. And there were still those alien pieces inside him, ticking away just slightly out of phase with the rest, leaving him feeling like a clockwork with one gear missing...
A painfully hollow feeling that was beginning to feel less and less like an ache and more like a hunger.
And though he fell asleep beside his fiance, Kevin couldn't ignore the vague, shapeless feeling of defeat, like he had lost a battle he had never really been given the chance to fight. Intentional or not, and in spite of his partner's sincere regret, it felt like Javier would have exactly what he wanted...
It was only a matter of time.
End
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Yes, there are ideas for sequels, but only once I slog through a buttload of other ideas.
Though I'm still thinking of rewriting this before posting anywhere outside LJ, so if there are any places that don't seem to line up, or where things are confusing, please let me know.
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 2,477
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter 7
Kevin didn't even attempt to sleep that night, and though the hours had passed excruciatingly slowly, when morning came he had no idea what to do with himself. His panic had reached a sort of bizarre terminal velocity sometime during the night, spilling into something else he didn't really have a name for. Still frantic, still fearful, but strangely quiet. Like the effort it took not to give in to the hysteria his situation begged left him very little energy in reserve. In a way, it was almost as if he had traveled so far past terror that he had met calm going the opposite direction, and the collision had left him wrapped in a state that fell painfully short of numb, but at least lent him the composure that might—conceivably—let him make it through the rest of the day.
The question, then, became what he should do with it.
He was present enough in his thoughts to admit that returning to work was probably the last thing he should have been contemplating—if for no other reason than because Javier might be there if he did. But right now, Kevin felt he needed something normal. He needed it desperately. He needed a reminder of the life he had lead—of the sane world he had once inhabited before any of this happened—even if that life and that world were an illusion he could never again possess.
And of course, there was always the possibility that his partner might show up at his home—that Javier might come for him while he was alone—and that would have been so much worse. Kevin felt just a tiny bit ridiculous to feel so afraid of that. After all, whatever else Javier had done to him, his partner had also let him leave.
Though the thought whispered cruelly that, in a way, Javier already had what he wanted.
When Kevin finally made his decision, though, it wasn't fear that drove him, not directly. Just the idea of spending the rest of the day alone in his apartment made his skin crawl. The feeling left him unsettled, because he wasn't precisely sure where it was coming from. He didn't know whether it was a simple, human desire to find security in the presence of others, or if the need were something more esoteric and complicated. And maybe that itself was the real problem...
At that moment, Kevin thought he was more afraid of himself than he could ever be of Javier.
In spite of his partner's bizarre awareness of the changes which had occurred inside of him, neither Javier nor Kevin really understood exactly what had been done to him. Neither of them knew how deep those changes went, or what they might mean. And Kevin really didn't know how long he might be able to stand being alone with himself—alone with a body he wasn't sure he knew or understood any more, and whose thoughts, instincts and reactions he feared he might not be able to trust.
Javier was at work when Kevin came in, but his partner seemed content to keep his distance.
Of course, it didn't escape Kevin's notice that both Kate and Castle seemed to have adopted Javier's caution. With Kate the lack of apparent care wouldn't have stood out, she was often subtle in showing her concern. Castle, on the other hand, was inherently nosy, and the writer's apparent lack of curiosity about his long absence was impossibly more disruptive of Kevin's calm than questions could have ever been. Kevin didn't know whether Javier had told them something to inspire that caution, or if they were simply taking their cues from his partner's distance. Either way, it was just one more thing that felt painfully off-rhythm.
One more thing that chafed subtly against Kevin's efforts to pretend things were still—or could ever again be—normal.
Kevin's awareness of that painful disconnect never left him. It surrounded him in the tense atmosphere of the bullpen, in the careful looks others were giving both him and his partner. Javier's story for Kevin's disappearance had been an inflamed stomach ulcer, with additional complications that had required someone there to keep a close eye on his health. Kevin could imagine the fact that Jenny had heard it second hand through Beckett had cast well-deserved suspicion on that story. He had no idea what conclusions Jenny might have drawn—though he was likely to find out sooner or later. Kate would wait, he knew, for him to talk about it when he was ready. She would wait patiently, though not forever, whereas Castle had almost certainly invented some excruciatingly detailed and bizarre story to satisfy his own internal curiosity.
Though whatever the writer might have come up with, it couldn't possibly have been stranger than the truth.
But Javier had clearly failed to hide that he was hiding something, and a temptation like that was something Castle could hardly resist. Knowing Castle, he likely assumed Javier's secrets were meant to disguise some scandalous affair—or possibly a nervous breakdown. The more Kevin thought about it, the writer's present silence spoke volumes as to which it might be.
Of course, his own behavior was painfully supportive of that latter theory.
His partner had hardly spoken a word to Kevin that wasn't directly related to their case—not even when he reached out to hand him a file and watched Kevin flinch. Castle and Beckett had both seen it as well. And the incident was surely on both of their minds later when Kevin returned to his desk wearing two pairs of latex gloves snagged from one of the evidence kits. He was terrified of coming into contact with Javier's skin, afraid of what might happen if that connection sparked between them once again...
Kevin spent most of the day shrunken in on himself, dreading a touch that never came.
"It doesn't have to change anything," Javier finally said, breaking the cautious silence that had built up between them.
His partner's words were quiet, his voice hesitant as if he had been afraid to even speak. Regardless, the sound drew his attention almost violently. He had been too busy looking at the board, trying vainly to focus on their case. He hadn't notice at first when Kate and Castle slipped away—
He hadn't realized they were alone.
When he turned, Javier was still sitting at his desk—still several feet safely away from where Kevin stood. In fact, his partner wasn't even looking at him, and there was something focused in the way Javier's eyes had locked on the surface of the desk in front of him, a tension as if he were desperately trying not to. As if Javier thought that if he approached or even looked Kevin's way he might run.
If he actually was thinking that, it would have been hard to call it inaccurate.
It took Kevin a few moments to decide how to respond. Or whether he even should respond, because responding meant they would really be talking about this, and Kevin wasn't entirely sure he could handle that. Though as he turned his partner's statement—offer?—over in his head, he was unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled out of him, pained and more than a little hysterical, because the words themselves were ridiculous.
"Too late," Kevin said, a harried edge hanging on his voice that hardly sounded sane.
Javier let out a sigh, head turning slightly away.
"I mean, this is where it stops," Javier clarified wearily.
Javier paused, his features set with an expression that was almost determined.
"I'd take it back if I could," Javier said, voice aching with familiar regret that Kevin could taste as if it were his own.
There were so many things his partner wished he could take back. Kevin wasn't even close to the worst, he was just the most recent—though he was also the only victim Javier had ever been given the chance to face.
"If you want—" Javier hesitated on the words, wetting his lips. "If you want, I can ask Gates for a transfer. If I'm at another precinct, there's a chance you won't even have to run into me again."
"No—"
Kevin didn't register his objection until it was already spoken, just barely managing to cut himself off before...he wasn't even sure what else he had been going to say. It occurred to him to wonder, just for a brief moment, if it had even been him saying it. But in spite of the fact that every time he had seen his partner today had left him fighting the mad urge to scream, the thought of removing Javier from his life struck him as somewhat...excessive. And his reflexive, panicked rejection of the idea was certainly suspect, but Kevin was at a loss for how he should deal with that.
Confused well beyond the dimensions of the word, Kevin shook his head.
"I just learned that my partner is a shoggoth or something," Kevin said, very slowly, his voice almost flat despite his words. "Just...give me some time to adjust. Okay?"
And where his earlier interjection hadn't managed to break his partner's resolve in not making eye contact, those last words—or perhaps something concerning in Kevin's voice—finally did. His expression was vaguely surprised, though mostly concerned and wary. Incredibly wary. Seeing that directed his way after all that had happened struck Kevin as monstrously comical. He snorted a short laugh.
"Jesus..." Kevin breathed, shaking his head again as he ran those words back over in his head. "When I read Lovecraft in high school who the hell knew I was arming myself with a vocabulary I'd need one day."
And he was well aware that his babbling was making very little sense, but as the words came free in a frantic rush, they seemed to clear out some of the poisonous tension with them.
"I mean, 'unutterable star-spawned horror' isn't a phrase I thought I'd ever apply in my life, let alone to a friend."
"Are we still friends, Kev?" Javier asked, suddenly interrupting.
And Kevin felt a brief flash of irritation that those were the words Javier had chosen to respond to, but his tone held a faint note of alarmed surprise that made the intense importance of that question impossible to miss. Kevin was silent for a moment, giving the question the attention he felt it deserved. It was out of respect that he answered it honestly.
"I don't know."
It was more than just an answer to the question he had been asked. It was an admission—to himself—that he really didn't know anything anymore. He didn't know what they were now to each other. He barely understood what they were separately. He didn't know exactly what he had become, or what happened next. He didn't know how he could possibly accept the truth of Javier's past—
And yet, at the same time, Kevin couldn't imagine life with out him.
As he tried to dissect that contradiction in his head, he expected to find something foreign—some subtle but definite sign of what had been done to him—but that wasn't what he found at all. Putting his own thoughts on trial, Kevin forced himself to face the fact that the man he had known for more than four years was a lie. The reality was impossibly horrifying, and the pretense behind it downright obscene—
Yet at the same time, Javier wasn't any different than he had been the day they had met. Real or not—human or not—he was still the same Javier Esposito that Kevin had been partnered with years ago. Still the same man who had become his best friend. The only thing that had changed in their scenario was Kevin's perception of his partner based on what he knew.
And what he now knew and had to make his own peace with was the fact that the real Javier Esposito had been a stranger that Kevin had never been—and never would be—given a chance to meet.
Oddly, that realization tickled a memory, one which, mercifully, belonged entirely to him.
When Kevin was a child his mother had told him a story, a sort of family fairytale about a man who had believed he was a changeling. The man had been utterly convinced he was only a copy of the real man, and had refused to be told otherwise. In the end, the man's wife had dealt with his delusions simply by asking him three questions. She asked if he remembered how they had met, how they had married, and if he still loved her. When his answer to all of those questions was "yes", she had told him that it was no different to her than if nothing had changed, and that she could pretend, if he would.
Kevin decided he wouldn't tell Javier that story. It was his, and he intended to keep it close for as long as he could. But it had given him something else to think about.
"I don't know," Kevin said again, running a hand over his face, "but until I do, maybe...maybe I'm willing to pretend."
Especially if it could let him regain some semblance of normalcy, he couldn't help thinking to himself. He might have to if he wanted to hold on to his sanity.
"I can't promise anything," Kevin admitted, "but I can try. I will try, and... I don't know. Maybe we'll figure it out?"
Javier looked him over very carefully as he absorbed the answer, finally giving a faint nod.
"Okay," Javier said, accepting a little breathlessly. "It's less than I'd like, I wont' lie, but..."
Javier gave a faint snort, shaking his head.
"It's a hell of a lot more than I'd hoped for."
Then Beckett and Castle had returned, and that was the last they had spoke about it that day. It was just as well, because Kevin wasn't sure he was ready for more. He didn't think he could have brought himself to ask the questions he had—to address just how much he had changed.
It was something he was still, slowly, figuring out on his own.
Kevin went home with Jenny that night. He begged and pleaded and apologized and threw himself upon her mercy. They made up. They made love. Jenny told him that she loved him. But the words and even the act itself felt almost empty to him. It was one thing to be told or shown that someone loved him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to forget how, with Javier, he had felt it. And there were still those alien pieces inside him, ticking away just slightly out of phase with the rest, leaving him feeling like a clockwork with one gear missing...
A painfully hollow feeling that was beginning to feel less and less like an ache and more like a hunger.
And though he fell asleep beside his fiance, Kevin couldn't ignore the vague, shapeless feeling of defeat, like he had lost a battle he had never really been given the chance to fight. Intentional or not, and in spite of his partner's sincere regret, it felt like Javier would have exactly what he wanted...
It was only a matter of time.
End
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Yes, there are ideas for sequels, but only once I slog through a buttload of other ideas.
Though I'm still thinking of rewriting this before posting anywhere outside LJ, so if there are any places that don't seem to line up, or where things are confusing, please let me know.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: Thursday, 2 August 2012 06:59 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Thursday, 2 August 2012 07:07 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Wednesday, 8 August 2012 03:54 pm (UTC)From:This is something that I love about your writing. I know this feeling so well and you describe it so dead on. Every time you find the right words.
Well, shit. Is that the bit we talked about that relates to Swan Lake and everything?
Anyway... I don't like how bitter Kevin is about the outlook of his 'hunger' for Javier becoming more potent. If it doesn't change, if it's just a need and not a 'want', not free will, neither of them will be happy.
Anyway.... as usual, only you can come up with crazy plots like that. Thank you for the ride, and hopefully you'll post more soon. ^^
no subject
Date: Thursday, 9 August 2012 05:23 am (UTC)From:I'm cruel, but I do have my limits...
I guess I understand your concern about free-will, and I've struggled to find a way to articulate how it's not as dire as you may think. And if I'm having trouble saying it here I almost definitely failed to work it into the fic.
Basically, the hive-hunger is a biological drive to connect and communicate with the other parts of the "whole", and it really isn't anything else. It isn't sexual (the hive in its standard form doesn't even reproduce that way), and doesn't force their relationship on a human level except where the "threat" the connection poses causes strain between them.
What Kevin really fears is what being part of a "whole" with another person would be like. He was never fully conscious for it during his change. And the transfer of memories wasn't something Javier even tried to do, it just happened on its own, so Kevin is terrified that opening that connection could cause him to lose himself. Right now the one thing Kevin has control over is his own actions, and for now that includes not entering into that link with Javier. What he fears about the developing hunger is the possibility it could take that control away entirely.
Btw, I was wondering what you thought of the cameo in chapter 5.5 (label chapters like a normal person? Pft.). I think I mentioned it to you before, but it would have been a long time ago, and I don't really remember.
no subject
Date: Thursday, 9 August 2012 07:55 am (UTC)From:I also get what you mean about the hive-feeling thingy, and I'm sure, as things progress, that Kevin will not only feel an imperative pulling him towards Javi but his own feellings as well. The ones he already had, towards his bff, and the ones that can sneak up on him now that he knows exactly how Javier feels and gets to "think" about it. (Think implies imagining implies picturing yourself in it implies... self programing. :P It worked on Beckett...)
I was surprised there wasn't any later reference to what Javier felt in the shower, when he 'felt' the bond between them and reached Kevin at the other end, and felt him recoil.
I was thinking maybe you'd make a reference to how Kevin had felt in that moment, because I'd like to think that it was a conscious process for both of them, even if Kevin was aware of what was happening, that he KNEW the moment Javier 'reached' him.
Now that I've said that, I know it'll be in a sequel. ;)
Oh, so it WAS a cameo, and McGarrett was really Steve. :) I thought so, but then I batted my tin hat away thinking that other bad ass army guys (which, not exactly, because Steve was a SEAL and insists to Danny all the time that SEALs are Navy and not Army) are allowed to wear that name on their dog tags. But... :D
Avalanche of hot guys.
no subject
Date: Thursday, 9 August 2012 08:43 am (UTC)From:lol
Castle canon has, so far, failed to establish exactly what branch of the military Javi served in, simply stating that he was Special Forces. I know Jon Huertas was in the Airforce (I think?), but my brain grabbed onto it and said "Fuck it, crossover!"
You know. Like it always does.
Tin hats are mandatory dress code for my fic. They go so well with those jackets with the buckles...
As for Kevin's feelings:
a. he was the one who assumed they had slept together, and while happy to learn he hadn't cheated with his partner, was
b. uncertain whether he ought to confess to Jenny that he thought he could have
As for the sequel, I've got problems with it. The first being whether to jump in to "resolving" the crossover, or if I should deal with the plot that eventually brings the insanity to Kate and Castle's attentions. The latter changes the dynamic quite a bit, and would feel more right as happening after, but it's also got a lot more actual ideas hanging off of it. I really don't have much of a plot for the crossover as of yet.
The second being basically everything else I want to/need to write. :/
no subject
Date: Sunday, 26 August 2012 01:30 am (UTC)From:Holy crap this is dark. Or at least has the potential to go to some pitch-dark places that my mind is helpfully informing me of because that's the way my head works. And looking at the picture, Javi is apparently a tentacle monster or something like it, which sort of makes me giggle instead. XD
And a tentacle monster is infinitely preferable to my original mental image of The Thing Javi Used To Be because I was picturing more of a Giant Evil Spider Demon from Hell. o_o
no subject
Date: Sunday, 26 August 2012 02:41 am (UTC)From:I've had several differing visions in my head for what Javi used to look like, with my mental image hopping around between various flavors of noxious and horrifying (google the word "chwidencha" for one example of another possible extreme...or if you've really got a problem with spiders, don't). Pinning it down does kind of take the fun away from it. Trying to pin down the exact functions of the creature is similarly difficult, because that too is fairly fluid and keeps changing whenever I revisit the story.
The plot itself kind of has the same problem. I know I want to do more in this verse, but there are so many different ways that I can go with it, that I'm really not sure which I'll go with.
Some of them really are definitely dark, but oddly (seriously oddly, given the way my muses normally run) a lot of people's anticipations of what happens next in this story seem to be way worse than what I'm likely to go with.
Basically, this whole thing is almost an experiment in letting my brain get exactly what it wants out of a story, and...yeah. I don't even know.