very not normal about how kevin ryan is both the darling child of castle but also the most conscientious adult.
on one hand, he’s baby castle. castle jr. the pretty one. he drinks honey milk before bed. he’s into lord of the rings. he wears sweater vests. he spends an obscene amount on lottery tickets. he tackles espo over a donut. he’s pouty. he pitches wild theories like a true daddy’s boy.
hell, kate kisses him on the cheek on his wedding day. castle names a small horse after him. espo motherhens undercover ryan, because that’s his cute boy-next-door who would die for moo shu pork on an xbox night.
and yet:
ryan’s the one to accept montgomery as the dirty cop. to save beckett's life at the cost of being loyal to the team. to steel himself while being painted as a traitor. to whisper "it's me, beautiful" on the phone, savoring his breaths in a burning building.
serving 🥺 while being a badass -- detective ryan, everyone.
Edit: I can’t believe how much traction this art’s gotten- I honestly got tired of looking at it in my drafts and posted it as-is. Firstly, thank you all, secondly, …yall want more?
Pairing: predominantly character-only, very brief Jamie Reagan x fem!reader
Summary: Commissioner Frank Reagan is approached by a team of Manhattan detectives with questions about a murder victim. Danny is reluctant to trust Beckett, Javi, and Ryan, but Jamie finds a sense of harmony with them. Castle is distracted by new developments; he accidentally breaks the case and finds another victim that Jamie knows.
Warnings/Word Count: canon typical warnings, murder, assault, angst, lots of fluff, banter, r is targeted but safe. 2.1k+ words.
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“Up yours with Ferguson Retirement,” Castle reads from the poster above the victim’s desk. “Seriously? This guy got paid to write marketing slogans?”
“He used to,” Beckett corrects. “More recently, he got paid to tell other people to write slogans.”
“So, Ferguson works his way up to executive and then gets murdered in his office,” Ryan muses as he flips through a file cabinet. “Question is, why?”
“And the whole who did it thing,” Javi points out from the window overlooking New York.
“This guy had money, obviously, but it’s tied up in banks, stocks, and now, trusts, so his killer can’t get it. At least not quickly,” Beckett says. “I don’t get it.”
Castle steps over the stained portion of carpet where the victim was found this morning. It doesn’t seem like enough blood for the cause of death Lanie reported, but he’s decided not to bring that up until after Beckett gets another cup of coffee.
Across town, in One Police Plaza, Detective Abigail Baker knocks on the commissioner’s door, then steps inside without waiting for an invitation.
“What have we got?” Frank Reagan asks as he leans back in his seat.
“Prelim reports confirm that Tyler Ferguson was murdered late last evening,” Baker tells him. “The 12th Precinct in Manhattan is covering the case.”
Frank nods, tapping his pen against the desk. “Has his father been notified?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. Thank you, Baker. I’d like to be apprised of the case as developments are made.”
“Of course. Detective Danny Reagan is here to see you in regard to the case.”
Frank sighs, then waves for her to let Danny into his office.
“I want the case,” Danny says after forgoing a greeting.
“The case is already being worked,” Frank replies. “Detectives in the 12th Precinct are handling it.”
“The Fergusons are practically family, Dad. We owe them this.”
“We owe them our support. The NYPD is responsible for bringing the killer to justice.”
“And I can do that!”
“No, Danny.” Before Danny can pitch another argument, Frank adds, “You’re too close and I’m getting regular updates. Danny, you have other responsibilities now.”
Baker knocks on the open door again, hesitating to speak as she looks at Danny.
“Go ahead, Baker,” Frank urges.
“The detectives on the Ferguson case spoke to Tyler’s father and have asked to speak to you about the victim’s family. They said, and I quote, they need to talk to someone who knew the family outside of business. Apparently, that’s you.”
“Who’s the lead detective?” Danny asks.
“Ignore him,” Frank encourages. “And please encourage them to call or come in, whichever they prefer.”
“Right away, sir.”
“I’m staying,” Danny tells his dad.
“I’m shocked,” Frank deadpans. “Go ahead and call Jamie down here, too, if he’s not already on his way.”
“Wow,” Castle sighs as they step into the elevator in One PP. “This place is incredible. Ugh, the stories these walls could tell.”
“Maybe you could learn the art of not telling every story that pops into your head from them,” Javi taunts.
“Behave,” Kate commands. “This isn’t just another interview; we’re still talking to the police commissioner.”
Castle raises his hand in a scout’s honor position, Javi mimes zipping his lips closed, and Ryan simply nods. When they reach the commissioner’s floor, they step out into a warm, wooden hallway.
“Good morning, detectives,” a blonde woman greets as she steps around her desk. “I’m Detective Baker, we spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, thank you for having us,” Kate answers. She offers her hand and introduces herself before asking if there’s anything they should know before speaking to the commissioner.
“He cares about you, and he cares about the victims,” Abigail offers. “But he’s no fool. He knows more than you may think.”
“Is he as tall as he looks on tv?” Ryan asks quietly.
Baker smiles, then answers, “Taller. He’s in a meeting right now, but he’s invited you to wait in his office. He should be back in just a few minutes; I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” Javi offers, resisting the urge to turn and watch Baker leave.
Alone in the commissioner’s office, Kate and Ryan stand behind the chairs at the desk and look at the accolades behind the imposing desk. Javi moves toward the window, whistling in appreciation of the view. Castle, however, walks straight to the bookshelf and begins admiring the commissioner’s collection.
“What do you think it’s like?” Javi asks.
“Working here?” Kate wonders.
“Being the commissioner.”
A door opens, and Commissioner Reagan says, “Tiring,” before he steps inside. He offers a warm smile and tells Kate, Javi, and Ryan to relax when they move to stand at attention. “This is Detective First Grade Danny Reagan and Sergeant Jamie Reagan,” Frank introduces when two men join him behind the desk. “They knew your victim and, if you’d like additional assistance, they’re willing to work with you as needed.”
“We could solve the case for you, he means,” Danny mumbles.
Jamie rolls his eyes, then mouths an apology to Javi, who smiles and shrugs it off.
“I’m Detective Kate Beckett,” Kate begins. “This is Detective Javier Esposito and Detective Kevin Ryan; we’re from the 12th Precinct in Manhattan. Our consultant-”
“Richard Castle,” Frank interjects, nodding once. “I’m a fan of your work.”
“Oh, oh,” Castle murmurs as he takes a step toward the desk. “Uh, thank you, sir. I’m honored.”
“Maybe we should get back to the fact that someone was murdered?” Danny snaps.
“We’re returning to the crime scene,” Javi says, “if you’d like to join us. Maybe you can tell us if anything seems out of place.”
“He was found in his office?” Jamie questions. “What was the time of death?”
“Approximately midnight.”
“That’s odd. He had a routine, one that involved getting home in time to call his brother in California and watch an episode of M*A*S*H*.”
“We spoke to his brother,” Ryan interjects, “and he confirmed that they did talk last night. He must have called from the office.”
“Let’s see the scene then,” Danny agrees. “Send us the address?”
“Of course, Detective,” Kate agrees, but Castle sees how she tenses, clearly holding back a different reply. “Thank you for your time, Commissioner.”
“Good luck. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you,” Frank answers.
“That’s incredible!” Jamie explains, locked in conversation with Javi and Ryan as they look in the nooks and crannies of the victim’s office together. “Wait, your sergeant didn’t mind?”
“Mind? He didn’t know,” Ryan scoffs.
Danny rolls his eyes as they laugh, focused on the papers on the victim’s desk. Kate is talking to him, telling him what they have so far, so he keeps his head down to hide the expressive looks he pulls. He could have solved this case already if he and Baez had been allowed to take it, he thinks.
“I can’t believe the New York police commissioner reads my work,” Castle murmurs, straightening the certificate frames hanging over the desk. “He said he was a fan! I wonder if he has a favorite or if there’s anything he’d want to change.”
“Me? No,” Jamie answers, though Danny has no idea what the question was. “Although… Hey, Danny, did Tyler have a girlfriend?”
“Not that I’ve heard of,” Danny grumbles. “Could ask his neighbor, though. They were good friends.”
“His neighbor?” Kate repeats. “We were told Tyler had a penthouse down the street.”
“He does- did,” Jamie confirms. “But that wasn’t home for him. He had a house outside the city where he went most nights.”
Castle nods along but isn’t really listening. He gasps, then asks, “Do you think Commissioner Reagan liked the plot twist of the cemetery being the secondary scene but the girl was really killed outside the church?”
“Secondary scene,” Kate murmurs.
“He wasn’t killed here,” Danny agrees, straightening. “We’re looking in the wrong place.”
“You’re welcome,” Castle interrupts. “Also, I’d like to inform you all that I realized there wasn’t enough blood earlier, but knew no one would listen to me.”
“Something’s wrong,” Jamie says after he closes the car door outside the victim’s house.
“You a human bloodhound or something?” Javi inquires.
“No, but someone’s missing.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Danny muses with a smile. “You liked visiting Tyler because it gave you a nice excuse.”
“Ooh, plot twist! An excuse for what?” Castle asks.
“To see the neighbor.”
Jamie ignores Danny and walks left before cutting across a yard to knock on someone’s door.
“Let’s head in,” Danny urges.
When they reach the front door, they see blood on the inside of the window pane at the corner of the house. Javi kicks the door in, and their suspicions are immediately concerned – Tyler Ferguson was killed here and taken back to his office afterward.
“Danny!” Jamie yells from next door.
“Secure this house!” Danny calls over his shoulder as he hurries off the porch and toward his brother.
Jamie is already inside, sitting beside the neighbor Danny teased him about. He points toward the back door and says, “He's home.”
“The neighbor on the other side killed Tyler,” you, the one who Jamie loves to visit, murmur. “He kept complaining about what time Tyler got home and how his headlights woke him up because his bedroom is at the front of the house. I guess he got tired of it and sat up waiting for him.”
“And you?” Jamie asks, working to untangle the knot holding your arms to the chair you’re in.
“I was up late reading,” you explain. “Guess he saw the light on and wanted to make sure I couldn’t call the police. He said he’d be back.”
“He won’t be,” Danny promises. “Stay with her, I’ll get the detectives and the writer to find this guy.”
Jamie nods, then whispers an apology when he accidentally pinches you.
“You haven’t been by in a while,” you remind him.
“Sorry,” Jamie replies. “I’ve been busy.”
“I get it. Maybe I’ve finally learned my lesson and won’t stay up too late reading.”
“Yeah, what book is good enough to keep you up long enough to witness a murder?” he jokes.
“Rick Castle’s new book.”
Jamie slows, pressing his lips together before the rope around your wrists falls. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“What could possibly be the bad news?” you wonder.
You stand, growing dizzy when the blood rushes to your feet. Jamie steadies you, holding one hand against your hip and cradling your jaw with the other.
“You good?” Jamie asks.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“The bad news is that I’m going to be calling you every night from now on to check in on you.”
“That’s terrible,” you joke, yet you can’t hide the smile that spreads across your face. “And the good news?”
“Jamie!” someone yells as they run up your stairs. “Your brother just body slammed the murderer, that was incredible!”
Your jaw drops when the man comes into your house.
“Whoa, are you okay?” he asks.
“You’re Rick Castle,” you whisper.
“Last I checked.”
“Jamie?”
“Yeah?” he asks, stepping closer to you.
“I might pass out.”
“Please don’t,” he and Castle say together.
A few hours later, you’re in a conference room at One PP. You know the Reagans, and you’re familiar with Castle, but the other cops eating pizza and whispering about the case around you are still new faces.
“Should have been obvious that he was moved,” Danny points out yet again.
“Tell her what you did to your sergeant,” Jamie asks Javi. His arm is across the back of your seat, and he leans toward you as you shift to listen to the story.
“Can I ask a personal question, Mr. Castle?” Frank inquires.
“Oh, yes, please,” Castle answers, quick and eager.
“What’s the book that made you choose mysteries? Assuming you have one, of course.”
“You have quite the collection of mysteries in your office.”
“Even more at home. Chandler was my introduction to the genre, and I’ve never looked back.”
You glance around the table, shocked that something as heinous as a senseless murder brought all these people together like this. No matter how unimpressed Danny acts, you know he’s glad to be part of the case; Javi, Ryan, and Jamie get along wonderfully; Frank and Castle now have someone they can talk about books with; and you’ve been reminded of how much the Reagans – one Reagan in particular – mean to you.
“Jamie,” you whisper when the conversation recenters on the now-solved case.
He hums, brushing his fingers over your shoulder.
“Maybe we should do a little more than a phone call.”
