Coming Home
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: Luke, I am your….No, wait. That's wrong. I'm not Castle's father. Rating: K Time: An AU story beginning at what would be the end of season one.
"How are you feeling today?"
He shrugged. "Still a little fuzzy around the edges."
"Um."
He had found that doctors liked to say that.
"Could you be more specific?"
"The headaches are still there and the nausea. My vision and hearing are normal, at least according to the other docs. My memory is good, except I can't remember anything from the time we exited the Salang Tunnel and waking up here."
The doctor nodded. "That's to be expected. It's unlikely you'll ever remember that."
"Not sure I want to."
"Um." The doctor said, noncommittally. He looked at a e-tablet, scanned some paper documents and briefly wrote something. "I want to send you back to the US, Sergeant. We've done all we can do here at Landstuhl. But not to Benning. I know your type. You'll get bored and want to do something that'll impact your recovery. Do you have family?"
He shook his head. Even now it hurt to answer that question.
"No family at all?"
He managed a grin. "I have an ex-wife. I'd be safer in the 'Stan."
"There are several fine military hospitals…."
He had no desire to get sent to some hospital where no one knew him. "I do own a place in New York, Manhattan, to be exact."
The doctor smiled. "Manhattan. Excellent. We've been sending active duty people to the VA Medical Center in the Bronx. They do great things with TBI patients. All you really need is time, you know, and you'll heal. I'll get the paperwork started, Sergeant."
"Thank you, Captain."
The doctor grimaced. "Please. Call me doctor. I actually had to work to become a doctor."
He landed at JFK with one small bag that contained mostly military items. What little else he had was somewhere in storage in Georgia. He had decided it was nothing he'd need. He decided to sit up front by the driver. He hated not being able to see everything. Sometimes he wondered if that would ever stop. Mostly he didn't wonder.
"Hey, Sarge, you're a Ranger?" The cabbie asked.
"Looks like."
"My old man was with the Topic Lightning in 'Nam. When I went in I filled out my dream sheet for Hawaii. Got sent to Fort Useless instead. I was in from '85 to '88. Never went anywhere. I guess you've been all over."
He grinned. "More like it's been all over me."
He paid the taxi off and took the elevator to Black Pawn Publishing. Ellie, the receptionist was still there and still pretty although she must have hit fifty.
"Can I help you, sir?" Then she lifted her glasses from the chain around her neck. "Oh, Mr. Castle. It's so good to see you again." She rushed around her desk and hugged him tightly. "It's been way too long since you were here."
"Much too long, Ellie. I called Gina and told her I was dropping by. Is she in?"
"Richard? Is that you?"
He decided that Gina was still the tall, blonde ice queen she'd been when he'd last been to Black Pawn.
She walked forward and put her hand on his face and then the side of his head. "My God! What happened to you?"
He tried to laugh it off. "I had an argument about right of way with a mountain. The mountain won."
"Does this mean you'll be getting out of the Army?" Gina's eyes gleamed at the thought. "You're an excellent writer and Derrick Storm could use a few new adventures."
He shook his head. "Even if I got out, which I won't be doing, I couldn't do another Derrick Storm. I've seen too much of the real world for that. But, how are the book sales going?"
She led him back to her office and brought up a nice power point presentation for him. Sales for his books in the US were anything but brisk, but translated copies were being sold in Eastern Europe. Deals had been made in Poland, the Czech Republic and Hungary, with deals in the offing for the Baltic Republics, Slovakia and Rumania. They were working on other countries.
"Richard, Monarch Pictures still wants to do a Derrick Storm movie, but we could get a much better deal if we had a whole series of books to offer, to make it a franchise, like the Bond movies."
He just shook his head. "Thanks for the briefing. I have to go see my lawyers now about my finances. See you, Gina." And he was gone.
He didn't know his lawyers' receptionist and she didn't know him. After a few minutes a stranger came out and introduced himself. "Ray Moore. I'm afraid Jerry is at your loft. There' a problem getting the tenant out. I really don't know what it is, though. Jerry did leave you a spreadsheet of your investments we're been managing." He pointed to the spreadsheet." If you'll notice, we've been conservative with the bulk of your money. But, we did take a little flyer on an IT company called StoKo. They were bought by STS technology and the synergy between their products was…."
"Did I make any money?" He interrupted.
"We put in a hundred thousand and got back five hundred K. We put most of it back into conservative positions…."
"So I have enough to live on for the next couple of months?"
"Certainly. Way more than enough."
"Have a nice day."
The building looked the same, but they had a new doorman. Luckily the man had been well briefed on the owners and let him in with no problems. He took the elevator to his floor and found the door was open. He could hear Jerry arguing with a woman.
"Look, it's not like I'm trying to stay here. I have everything packed, see? But the place I was supposed to move to had a fire and I won't be able to get in for a couple of months. I had a back up plan, but my friend decided to follow her new boyfriend to Colorado and sublet her place out from under me."
"I understand all of this. But, the owner is arriving today and he wants to live here. I need you to move out. Now!" That was Jerry.
He moved closer to the door so that he could see in a bit. Jerry was arguing with a tall, slim brunette. From what he could see from behind, she was attractive. And angry. Then his eye caught something on the end table by the couch. A book. One of his books.
He stepped into the loft. "Cut her some slack, Jerry. After all, she's reading one off my books."
She turned around and glared at him. His estimate went from attractive to gorgeous. "One of your books?"
He pointed to the book with a bookmark in it.
"That's my book." She said possessively. "All of your books are in the bookcase. I haven't touched a one."
He smiled at her and went over and picked up the book, holding the back cover by his face so she could see him and his photograph. "My book, see? I wrote it."
"You're Richard Castle?"
He shook his head. "Not anymore. Rick Rodgers, Staff Sergeant, Infantry, US Army. The cammies are kind of a giveaway." He motioned to the camouflaged fatigues he wore.
"Oh. I wondered what had happened to you, Mr. Castle. There were…"
"Rodgers, not Castle. But call me Rick. And I'm sure we can work something out. As for what happened to me….it was 9/11. If you were in New York then…" He left the rest unsaid.
"I was there. I'm a cop. I was a uniform on 9/11. I was at the scene….."
He took two steps forward and took her face in his hands. "My God! You're Kate.!" He turned to Jerry. "She can stay here. As long as she wants. Hell, she can have the place."
"What?" Jerry shrieked. "Are you out of your mind, Rick?"
"She saved my life that day. I was running like hell when the first tower collapsed and I just kept running toward it. She stopped me. It wasn't easy, but Kate here stopped me. I owe her, Jerry. Big time."
"Rick! You're leasing the damned place at less than half of the market value and you want to give the place to a complete stranger? Be real!" Jerry had left shrieking behind and was at wailing.
Kate grabbed him and turned him around. "Look, if saved you, I was doing my job, nothing more. And if I hadn't stopped you, there were hundreds of cops, firemen and paramedics who would have. You don't owe me a thing, Mr. Castle."
"It's Rick. I'm not Castle. And as far as I'm concerned, I owe you."
"So, you're going to give me something very valuable for just doing my job?"
He thought about it and nodded. "That's right."
"That's what police Internal Affairs calls a bribe. I could get fired for that. Even be sent to prison."
"That's absurd. I'm not bribing you! You saved my life. That means something to me."
"And it means something entirely different to the NYPD. You will not give me this place and that is final."
He knew that he couldn't win this. "Okay, you get to stay with the same lease as before. Okay?"
"No!" Jerry yelled.
"Okay." She replied.
"Jerry, draw up the lease, Same as before and it'll be open ended. She can stay as long as she wants. Oh, and I need to get to the Bronx VA and check in. Can you give me a ride?"
"What happened to you?" Kate asked, noticing the now faint bruises on his head and face.
"IED in Afghanistan. I'm on medical leave while I recover."
"Where will you be staying?"
He shrugged. "I'll find a hotel. I can afford it."
"And suppose something happens to you. You'll be all alone."
"I'll be fine." He insisted. "I can take care of myself."
She shook her head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself or you wouldn't be on medical leave." She thought for a moment. "Rick, there are four bedrooms here. You'll stay with me. That way if something does happen you won't be all alone."
"Look, Officer…" He realized he didn't know her last name.
"Detective. Detective Kate Beckett. And you're staying here with me. I will not kick a wounded soldier out of his own house when he's been so nice as to let me stay here. Now, put your things upstairs." She checked her watch. "I have to go. I'm working on a kidnapping case."
"I guess I'm staying." He said once she was gone. "I'll get a cab to the Bronx."
"Just don't give the cabbie any of your stock. Okay?" Jerry said sourly.
Kate was eating a sandwich from a machine at her desk when the phone rang. The caller ID gave an unfamiliar number.
"Beckett."
"Do you like Italian?" Rick asked.
"How did you get my number?"
"It's on your lease form. So, for dinner, would you like Italian? I'm planning to make pasta carbonara. I looked in the cupboards and the refrigerator for something for breakfast. There were things growing in Styrofoam boxes in the freezer. There was a big green thing that I had to use all of my hand to hand combat skills to get into the disposal. After that, I decided I needed to go shopping. Pasta carbonara okay?"
"Rick, you don't have to cook for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home, so I order something. That'll be…"
"No." He said firmly. "I'm not watching one of New York's finest eat takeout while I feast on Italian food. If pasta carbonara isn't okay, I can…."
Kate saw Ryan and Esposito coming out of the elevator. She did not want her current living arrangements to become office gossip. "Pasta carbonara is fine. Captain Montgomery wants us all to go home early tonight so we'll be fresh if the kidnappers call tomorrow. I'll be home about five thirty. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm in the middle of a case." She hung up.
As soon as Kate opened the door she could smell the food. If it tasted as good as it smelled, she was in for a treat.
Rick was in the kitchen, cooking. Kate walked to the dining room table. "You made a salad? And you got breadsticks?"
"Is oil and vinegar dressing okay?" He asked. "And I'm not sure about the breadsticks. I used to buy them from a little Italian bakery in what used to be Little Italy, but it's gone now. I looked on line and the bakery I got these from has good reviews, but you never can tell."
She looked at the bottle of wine Rick had set out. "Rick. This is very expensive wine. I've never had something this expensive."
"Then you should start. It's very good wine."
"Rick, I can't let you spend money on me like this."
"I'm spending money on me and asking you to join me. And don't worry about the money. I have several million left over from when I was an author. And I have spent very little of my pay this last eight months. The 'Stan isn't exactly known for high living. Base pay, combat pay, airborne pay, plus I learned enough Arabic to qualify for language proficiency pay, and it's all tax free. Don't worry about it."
"Can I help." She could tell she wasn't going to win this argument.
"Toss the salad? I'll be done in about ten."
She had just finished with the salad when there was a knock at the door. She went to answer it. When she did, Will Sorenson came in, holding files in one hand and a bag of food from a Chinese restaurant in the other.
"Hi, Kate. I thought we could eat and go over some of the…." He stopped when he saw Rick. "One of your detectives have the same idea?"
"I'm not a cop." Rick said. He would have said more, but Kate turned around and walked towards him, giving him a glare that would have stopped an M1 tank in it tracks.
"Rick lives here." She said, putting an arm around Rick. "Rick, this is Special Agent Will Sorenson. We're working together on the kidnaping case."
"Well. Actually…" Rick began, but was kicked by Kate.
"You didn't tell me that you were dating someone." Will said.
"I like to keep my private life private." She turned to Rick. "Is dinner almost ready, babe?"
"Yeah. Um, look, if you two need to work, I can go eat in the office."
Sorenson held up his hand. "Actually, I should just go back to my hotel and eat." He put the files down. "I can read the files on my laptop. Good night." He left quickly.
"Rick, I'm sorry I got you in the middle of this."
"I'd feel better about it if I knew what "this" is."
"We dated for about six months. Then he got a job offer in the FBI office in Boston. He never discussed it with me, he just took it and then asked me to join him. I refused and we broke up. Now he's back in New York and he's been hitting on me. And I'm not getting the kind of vibes that say, "I made a mistake, I'd like to get back together." The vibe I get is "I'd like to take you to bed." I don't need that. I'm sorry I got you in the middle of this,"
Rick shrugged. "That's not really very high on the scale compared to getting blown up by an IED. We're good." He checked his watch. "And dinner is ready. Would you like me to decant the wine?"
The food and the wine were excellent. Kate helped Rick clean up and then grabbed the pile of reports Will had left.
"That the kidnapping case?" He asked.
She just nodded.
"Need some help?"
"This is mostly financials. We got the ransom demand from the kidnappers today. They want; $750,000. Which is about all the Candelas have."
"Pretty specific. Someone knew them pretty well."
"We thought we had a suspect. Someone Teresa Candela fired a while ago. But he alibied out."
"I could help. Two sets of eyes are better than two."
Kate thought for a second. It couldn't hurt. She divided the pile in two and gave half to Rick.
"When you get done with your half, we'll switch."
They had been at it for about an hour when Rick cleared his throat.
"Did you find something?" She asked.
"Not exactly." When she raised an eye brow he went on. "It's the adoption agency. I did some research once. You have to prove to the agency that you can financially support a child. I doubt if an adoption agency is as hard to crack as the CIA or the NSA."
Kate grabbed her phone and began texting.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Texting my detectives, Ryan and Esposito, to meet me at the adoption agency. And letting my boss, Captain Montgomery know what we're doing." She smiled at him. "Good work, Rick."
For some reason he was very happy to be smiled at.
She wasn't smiling when she returned to the loft the next night. "I have bad news and worse news."
"That sounds like the start of a bad joke. What's the bad news."
"We can't find any evidence that the adoption agencies files have been hacked. But, they got a request for the birth mother for information on Angela. But she didn't fill out the request, the birth father did and forged her name. It turns out he got wounded in Iraq and can't have any more children. He just wanted to check on his daughter. See how she was. And he has a solid alibi. It looks like half of Manhattan saw him at his work. It's a dead end."
"So what's the worse news?"
"Will told everyone in my office that I'm living with a guy."
Rick shrugged. "Happens all the time. What's the big deal?
She took his hand and led him to the couch. "I need to tell you some things. When I was nineteen I was in college, Stanford, pre-law. I came home for Christmas, here in Manhattan. We decided to go out to eat. My dad and I got there first and waited for my mom. We waited for hours, called her cell repeatedly and finally went home. There was a detective there. He told us my mom had been murdered. The police wrote it off as random gang violence. They made no effort to solve her murder. That turned my life upside down. I dropped out of college and entered the police academy. I worked for five years on her case and got nowhere. I finally had to give it up. If I hadn't, I'd have fallen down a rabbit hole and stayed there."
Rick was confused. "What does that have to do with you having a boyfriend?"
She took a deep breath. "When I lost my mom, I couldn't stand to have that kind of loss again. It's like I built a wall around myself and wouldn't let anyone in. Will was the first person I dated even semi-seriously since college and that lasted six months. My best friend Dr. Lanie Parish has been hounding me to date. My two detectives haven't exactly been hounding me, but they do let me know I should have a life outside of work. Captain Montgomery does the same thing, in a fatherly sort of way. Finding out I'm living with a guy is the best news they've heard in years and it's a lie. I'm sorry, Rick. I shouldn't have gotten you into this, because now they all want to meet you. Tomorrow night."
"No problem. Actually, I'm the perfect fake boyfriend."
"And so modest, too." She said with a grin.
"No, I mean it. I'm being treated for traumatic brain injury. We can't go out clubbing, or anything with your friends. All we can do is stay home quietly at night while I heal. And when I'm better, I go back to Fort Benning and then downrange. You tell everyone that I'm a great guy, but married to my job, just like Will. No problem. Now, Detective Beckett, we need to get our stories straight."
"Stories straight?"
Rick smiled. "Like how many times should I goose you at dinner and how much tongue should I use when we kiss?"
"Rick!" She said, outraged, until she saw the grin on his face. "Okay. You pushed my buttons there. So what do you mean?"
"It's like constructing an alibi. When did we meet? Where? When did we start dating? Everything your colleagues will ask."