The Long Game: 1
A/N: This story takes place in the Magic AU, and begins roughly two weeks after that storyline ends. If you have not read Magic, then please search my other stories and do so before reading this one; otherwise this story will not make a lot of sense. Two weeks after Scott Dunn's capture, a new and very different crisis arises as Castle and his family attempt to recover from Dunn's previous attacks.
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you Mr. Marlowe.
Richard Castle's Beach Home in the Hamptons, March 10, 2012
It is 6:45 in the morning, and the sun is just starting to creep up off the horizon of the ocean, clearly visible outside from the east-facing front window overlooking the deck. Richard Castle sits on the sofa in the den of his family room, watching the sunrise, his mind miles and miles away. He has brought Martha Rodgers and Alexis Castle here to his Hamptons getaway to rest and recuperate.
To heal.
Their home is ashes and bricks, thanks to Scott Dunn. Castle owes him for that – and so much more. Sure, they could stay in the best hotel in Manhattan, and in fact, they have received a couple of offers from hotel managers looking to take advantage of his sudden increased notoriety. In the end, it was easy to say no to the very generous offers. He wanted to get his family out of the city, away from the press, away from everything.
He just wanted to get his family home.
Alexis sits next to him – sleeping somewhat soundly – half curled up in and against his lap as he watches the morning sun lift off the waters into the air. She fell asleep like this last night in the middle of the second Home Alone movie. He's been trying to keep comedies on the television, for obvious reasons.
She looks so peaceful right now – in stark contrast to the young girl who awakened screaming twice last night – an occurrence that has been repeating itself nightly for the past two weeks since . . .
. . . since Scott Dunn - mad dog that he is - was put away.
The nightmares have been coming every night, despite the visits with the counselor. Dr. Wanda Thompkins has been seeing Alexis three times a week for the past week and a half, since he started bringing her. After two consecutive nights of nightmares, Castle knew that help was needed, and had taken her to the good doctor. Thompkins is a long-time friend from college that he figured he would never need professionally again. Yeah, he'd visited Dr. Thompkins a few times after Meredith left. Finding Meredith in bed with another man had shaken him to his core. Her leaving him and their daughter gave it another good shake. Dr. Thompkins had – in just a few sessions – helped him get on his feet, and focused him on the greatness still in his life.
Alexis.
And now, the doctor has gotten to know the young woman far too well for Castle's taste. He never figured her to ever have to interact with Alexis under circumstances like this.
Bringing Alexis to the Hamptons meant taking her out of school – out of school at the tail end of her senior year. She is transitioning to a form of remote schooling, home schooling so to speak, for the final two months of her senior year. She will still graduate this spring, and still likely be the valedictorian. The school is allowing this for her, allowing her to take the final course studies from home. No, it's not a normal policy, but these aren't normal times. An exception has been made.
It's not often that Richard Castle uses his money or public fame to his own advantage in a truly major way. This, however, is one of those times, and he didn't hesitate in the least to use his position this time. Sure, he's used his fame to get good seats, to get a restaurant reservation when none existed. And for a while there, there was a time where he always seemed to get the girl he wanted. At least for a night or two. Those days are gone.
And this is different. This is about his baby girl.
Yeah, she's a teenager now, a young woman actually, just three months from graduation. But she will always be his baby girl. He's never been more sure of that fact that this morning.
He winces as he remembers last night. He caught her – before they started movies with Martha – in her bathroom. He had walked softly up the stairs, to her bedroom to check and see if she was sleeping. When he didn't find her in her bed, he noticed her bathroom door wide open, and the light on. He continued his slow pace, stopping just outside the door, and saw her. Watched her.
She sat on her vanity stool. Despite its tiny size, she still looked even smaller. So small . . . so fragile. She just stared at the mirror, at her reflection. She stared at the figure that she no longer recognized. She stared at what used to be long, beautiful strands of red hair that always drew second looks from the boys. Tears fell down his cheeks as he watched his daughter pick up her small brush, and mindlessly comb and brush through imaginary strands of hair no longer there.
She hasn't styled what remains of her hair. She hasn't done anything to remove the visual damage done to her, and the mirrored image reflects a stranger, a bad memory. He has encouraged her, and Martha has offered – begged, really – to take her to the salon, where they could find a beautiful hairstyle for the young woman while her hair grows back.
She has refused.
Worse, she hasn't spoken of what transpired during her capture – at least not to Castle or her grandmother. Whether she has shared – or whatever she has shared – with Dr. Thompkins is locked away in that damn doctor-patient privilege between the counselor and the eighteen year old.
She doesn't cry much either – not during the day – and it bothers him. She should cry. She should let it out. But the only time this happens is at night, in the midst of awakening from her nightmares.
In talking with Special Agent Jordan Shaw, he learns that Jenna has a similar story, and is walking down a similar path. Tom Shaw is beside himself, as his young daughter has also been in counseling for two weeks now, and the doctor has told them that she and their daughter spend most of their time together in quiet solitude. The young girl says very little. The doctor says a few things, she asks a few questions, but Jenna is locked in a quiet, far away room.
Castle sees much of the same in Alexis, although not as deep as the Shaw's younger girl.
Alexis has promised him that no sexual damage has been done. She has promised that Dunn never touched her 'in that way', thank God. So it appears that the damage is all psychological, and he's not sure if that isn't better or worse.
Thankfully - most of the time - she seems pretty normal; she seems herself. He wonders if it is an act – if it is a cover, a protection she has created for herself. She will come and smile, sit in his lap, watch television with him, and even laugh at the funny parts.
It seems kind of normal.
Until she is alone – or at least thinks she is alone. Then she becomes someone else. She goes somewhere else. He wishes she would take him with her. She doesn't have to do this alone. He's there, he's right there.
His phone buzzes – thank God he has it on silent ringer, else he awaken his sleeping daughter. Right now she seems fine. She needs a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Badly.
He reads the incoming text.
ESPOSITO: How you doing bro?
He smiles as he thinks of his friend – his friends – still back at the 12th Precinct, who have called and texted continuously over the past couple of weeks since their ordeal. Since Alexis' kidnapping and return.
Since Scott Dunn.
CASTLE: I'm OK Javi. Thanks
The response from the detective is fairly immediate.
ESPOSITO: Ryan says hey
Of course he would. Castle brings the phone closer, so he can type more easily without disturbing his still-sleeping daughter, still curled in his lap, under his chin.
CASTLE: Early start for you two
ESPOSITO: Yeah – think we have this one wrapped though
Castle nods his head. The newscasters referred to it as 'The Fairytale Killer', as someone was killing women in the same manner as the Grimm fairy tales they were dressed – in death – to represent. Normally, this would have been the type of case that Richard Castle – just three weeks ago – would have jumped into feet first, smiling wildly, with theories flying. The 12th had actually called him, trying to pull him away from his Hampton's 'camp', as they called it. They thought it would help. But they don't understand.
In truth, Castle had not even given it a moment's thought. No, his place was here, with Alexis. With Martha, who undoubtedly was having recovery issues of her own, as she has found herself with a glass of the brown liquid in her hands a few more times than normal, even for her.
CASTLE: Good. Tell Ryan hey
They are good men. The best of men. But he is not ready to jump back into the fray with them. Not until Alexis is better. And who knows when that will be? And certainly not any time soon with Beckett – a woman he thought he knew, a woman he thought he had finally figured out. It turns out he didn't know her at all.
ESPOSITO: How's little Castle?
Of course he'd ask about her. He smiles softly, but it quickly fades.
CASTLE: IDK. I'm worried
ESPOSITO: Yeah, I know
CASTLE: Different
ESPOSITO: Yeah
He stares out the window at the sun that is now noticeably inches higher off the horizon. He glances down again at Alexis, who licks her lips and readjusts herself, with a soft moan. He starts to prepare himself, in case she awakens. Her awakenings tend to have a violent edge to them, now.
"God, please let her sleep," he thinks to himself, then continues typing, texting with his friend.
CASTLE: I'd kill him if I could, Javi
It's dangerous to think such things, and even more dangerous to type them, to throw them out in public, to throw them into the universe. He's feeling dangerous, though. Has been for two weeks now.
ESPOSITO: Can't say I blame you
CASTLE: I really would
ESPOSITO: Well, he's done. Won't be hurting anyone else
Castle nods slightly, but frowns. They thought this about Scott Dunn before. And they were wrong. Very wrong – and now his daughter lies in his lap, a stark reminder of their mistake. And though it's not really 'their mistake', it sure as hell feels like it right now.
CASTLE: Yeah
ESPOSITO: Yeah. Headed to the courthouse soon
Castle nods again. That's right, today is arraignment day. The circus will begin, and his family – his daughter, his mother – they will be dragged back into this madness. He sighs, closing his eyes, then begins typing again.
CASTLE: Yeah
ESPOSITO: Arraignment this morning
CASTLE: I know that
ESPOSITO: Yeah, OK
He shouldn't be hard on Esposito, or Ryan. They are just trying to be there for him, to be friends. Every day, he has heard from both of them – multiple times during the day. Every day.
He's even gotten a few texts from her.
CASTLE: OK Javi. Hi to everyone
ESPOSITO: Stay tight, Castle
Castle smiles, and nods his head one last time, thinking of his friends back in the city. As if on cue, Alexis bolts up, a quick scream escaping her lips before a second one gets caught in her throat, and she jolts upward. Her head jars into her father's chin, causing him to bite his tongue.
The immediate and blinding pain, along with the immediate taste of metal now in his mouth, mixes with his daughter's loud sobs, concocting a dangerous mixture in the writer's mind.
He tries to soothe her, swallowing his own blood, fighting back the harsh stinging in his mouth, trying to tell her it will be all right. He is woefully unsuccessful.
"I'm right here, pumpkin," he tells her, rocking her back and forth, holding her as tightly as he can without hurting her. "Daddy's here."
"Huh! Huh! Huh!," she sobs, and grunts, not able to put any words together, as her tears and a few droplets of his own blood now stain his shirt.
"It will be okay, pumpkin," he tells her, his voice cracking slightly. He wills himself to be strong for his daughter, steeling his emotions, allowing his anger to surface once again, drowning the sadness and the ache in his heart for the young woman.
"I'm here," he whispers.
"I really could kill him," he thinks to himself.