Author's note: This is an idea I've toyed with for a while, it's not really much of a story but a part of Castle worth a little exploration I thought. Somewhat inevitably, it came to me in the middle of forming two other fic ideas (why are they like buses? Nothing for ages, then suddenly...) so if it doesn't flow quite right, apologies.


Holding On and Letting Go


Beckett and Castle arrived at the scene over an hour after it was called in. This was partly due to the fact that it was called in as a house fire to begin with, and partly because there had been a queue for coffee that morning, or so Castle claimed when he arrived with two steaming cups and a hint of bed head. They rose the five floors to the apartment rented by their victim and could smell the scent of burnt flesh as soon as they stepped from the elevator. Castle hadn't even had the pleasure of dealing with more than a slightly scalded finger before but could recognise instantly what Lanie would confirm as cause of death. As soon as they got into the apartment it was patently clear to anyone and everyone what the coroner's conclusion would be. The charred flesh and bones of their victim lay on one side of the room against a wall, wallpaper burnt away in a black streak behind the corpse. Surrounding furniture was blackened in places, and sodden with the water pumped on by the firemen who had attended quick enough to stop it spreading. Their chief had remained to fill the police in - it wasn't often he had to direct his men to extinguish a person. His judgement of the scene suggested that their victim had been set alight after being doused in an accelerant and had then set light to various areas of the room as he or she spun across the room in panic.

Castle and Beckett crouched by the remains and, as predicted, Lanie had little to add that wasn't already obvious. What they needed was an ID, and she promised to run dental records ASAP to match with the name of that on the rental agreeme. They stepped back to give Lanie the space she needed to start moving the body, and Beckett went towards a dresser where there were framed photos. In one, a young woman with sunlight falling on her face laughed at the photographer. A separate frame showed a serious-looking but handsome man. A final photo included both the man and woman, and between them a toddler smiling a gummy smile at the camera.

"Lanie? Any way of knowing if our victim is male or female?"

"Once I'm back in the morgue. Why?"

"Whoever that is, it looks like they had a kid - odds are if it's the mother, we need to be looking for a child."

Lanie nodded, looked towards the frame Beckett had picked up then switched her focus back to wheeling the body from the apartment. Castle browsed the other side of the room. There was another photo of the same child on the wall, and a couple of generic prints - mountains, sunsets, that sort of thing. A chest of drawers held table linen, books and a Monopoly set. "Quaint," he commented, looking into the drawer. Beckett looked around. "They still play the old fashioned way. Dice and everything." She rolled her eyes a little and moved off into an adjoining room. Castle moved on to a built in wall closet, opening one door and finding some coats, more books, a shoe rack and a pair of eyes. Wait, what? He did an actual double take as he realized what he was looking at. Unable to tear his gaze away, he called over his shoulder, "Beckett?" He could hear her footsteps, and she peered around the door post when he called.

"What?"

"Come here." He waved her over.

Her forehead knotted and she came out into the room and walked towards where he stood frozen in the door of the closet. She brushed in front of him to see what he was looking at, and he didn't move to accommodate her as her eyes scoured the murkiness. "Where? I don't see anything," she said, standing back again to his side, confused. He didn't seem to be messing about.

"Here," he took hold of her upper arms to move her out of the way, and slid down into a crouch, edging forward. She drifted behind him, pressing into him a little to try and see what he was looking at.

"Hey, it's ok. You can come out. We're cops. Well, I'm not a cop, but she is. And I help her." Castle whispered, frowning a moment in the dark - he was getting a bit off track. "We're not going to hurt you. It's ok now." He reached an arm out towards the corner where he'd seen a movement, and Beckett moved around him to open the second door slowly. More light fell into the darkness and they could both see the small form, pushed back into the corner, eyes unblinking and wide with terror. As Castle neared, the figure tried to push back even more for a moment, but with nowhere to go, eyes roamed to and fro between them before settling back on Castle's face and then his extended arm. He stretched his hand further forward, murmuring quietly, "It's ok. You're safe. No-one's going to hurt you," until he felt the touch of flesh under his fingers. It was gone again as the arm pulled back, but he pressed on and small fingers came back, gripping onto his hand like a lifeline. Confident in the acceptance, he scooted the shoe rack to one side and stretched out to pluck the child from the hiding place. As he backed out, more illumination revealed red hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, freckles smudged with black soot, and dust bunnies all over the Elmo shirt and pale colored pants.

Beckett reached out, one hand on the back of the little girl who was no more than three years old, one on his back, as if to press them together. "Hey," she whispered to the girl, "Have you got a name, sweetie?" She wasn't surprised to get no response, and saw how hard the small hands were digging into the material of Castle's shirt and jacket. "How long you suppose she was in there?" She asked under her breath.

He shook his head, "She's sooty from the fire."

Beckett raised a hand to try and wipe some of the smudges from her face, but the girl flinched so violently that Castle smothered a small yelp, "Ah, okay honey, let me just..." he took one of the hands gripping his chest and worked it a little looser, moving it to a slightly different spot. "Chest hair," he mouthed to Beckett, "Perhaps leave clean up until later?" His attention returned to the girl in his arms, "I guess since she's not feeling so chatty right now, we'd better get her checked out."

"Paramedics should still be out front, I'll radio down." She borrowed a comms unit from the cop by the door and confirmed one unit was still present and willing to take a look at the child. She turned back to Castle to give him the nod, and was captivated for a moment by the image. He stood in the same spot, the girl unmoved save her roaming eyes, her head switching side to side as she looked around. With the hand that didn't support her weight, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and she didn't flinch this time, seemingly oblivious. Kate wondering just how much the little girl had seen, how a child not even school age could begin to comprehend what had happened.


A short while later, Castle sat on the back step of an ambulance, the little girl in his lap. Her legs dangled between his, her head now resting on his chest, both hands still gripping his shirt so tightly that she must have started to lose some feeling by now. He kept his arms loosely around her forming a protective circle only broken for the paramedics to do their work. It seemed she'd allow them to touch her just as long as she didn't have to let go of Castle, and so they listened to her lungs for smoke inhalation, checked visible flesh for cuts and burns, and on the whole found very little physically wrong. However, concerned by the obvious psychological damage and the lack of a parent or relative, they were calling in to the hospital now to have a child and family services officer meet them and take charge until a guardian could be found.

Beckett approached the back of the van after pointing the CSU officers in the right direction, and looked at the two of them. "How's she doing?"

"She's ok. No damage. They're calling for family services to take her."

She nodded. "The quicker we can get an ID on our victim, the quicker we can have her back with her family." She stroked the girl's hair softly, her other hand coming to rest on Castle's shoulder.

"It's not going to be easy handing her over," he said, looking down at the fingers entwined in material. "She hasn't let go this whole time. I'm afraid I might lose a nipple."

The paramedic reappeared, and told them that a family services officer had been called and would meet them at the twelfth as there was no medical reason for a hospital visit. They moved out of his way so he could return to base, and made for the car and the precinct.


Back at the twelfth, Castle sat in the lounge, small child still clinging to him like driftwood in a storm. Beckett passed by the window between calls and other distractions. She stopped for longer this time, one eye on Castle, one on the little girl whose eyes were drooping but refusing to close. They had been back at the station for nearly two hours, still waiting on someone from family services. As a department, the social services were chronically over stretched and normally she would have understood such a delay. But it was difficult to be understanding or sympathetic given the scene in front of her. The girl still hadn't said a word, and getting an ID on their victim was being hampered by the condition of the body as well as the discovery that the apartment was sublet.

Castle shifted his feet up onto the couch, moving so he leant back against an arm and stretched out to take up the entire length. He looked down at the child, who barely moved save the turn of her head as he twisted into position. If only she'd give in and fall asleep, it would make her transition to the state's care a lot easier - for her much more than him. He ran a hand over her hair. His mind was full to overflowing after two hours, thoughts and memories mixing together. What would happen to her in the next hour, two hours, day, week? Was she old enough for this to always be in her mind for the rest of her life? Would this damage her forever? What was her name? What on earth could anyone do to help her? He couldn't shake the memory of Alexis, aged four, watching him fall awkwardly whilst they were out ice skating. He'd only sprained a wrist but the fear in her eyes and then the tears that didn't stop falling until later that night had frightened him in turn, and it was another night spent in her room, watching her sleep. He'd asked her about it recently, but all she remembered was a nurse at the hospital giving her a lollipop. Who knew what children retained? He looked down again, reminded also of the nights he'd spent like this not so many years ago, when he'd written quite a lot of his second book, literally around his sleeping daughter.

He could feel the skin of the child he held now cooling so he stretched out for a blanket that was left on the back of a nearby armchair and gently wrapped it around her.

When Beckett came into the room another half hour later, she found Castle humming under his breath and gazing towards the window. As she moved nearer, he saw her and raised a finger to his lips. She crept closer still and saw that the girl's eyes had closed. She looked up at him and smiled, receiving one in return.

"The officer's here to take her now," she whispered, offering her arms questioningly.

"It's ok, I got her," he whispered back and moved slowly to standing, child still warm and asleep against his chest and shoulder. Beckett returned to the doorway and lead in a larger woman, handbag over one shoulder with ID clipped to the strap, paperwork folded but poking out of her jacket pocket. She looked sympathetically at the girl and moved nearer, arms reaching out to take her. As the warmth of the small body was lifted away from him, and he bent down to collect the blanket that had dropped, a horrifying scream cracked the air and he snapped upright, both he and Beckett jumping in shock. The lady in front of them didn't miss a beat and gathered the now writhing and wailing child into a tight embrace in the center of her arms, trying to offer soothing phrases to little avail. She managed to squeeze in thanks to Detective Beckett before she began her departure, leaving the two of them frozen and stunned in the wake as the screams reverberated down the hallway and only muffled as the elevator doors closed.


As Beckett filed her last report of the day, she brushed her hair back with one hand and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It was another day that she would be glad to see the back of. She reached for her keys and looked for Castle, who was still there even though he had - as usual - failed to offer any help when it came to the administrative, incredibly unexciting part of the job. Tonight he was by a window, holding apart two slats of the blinds to look into the street below, the office building opposite, the night sky. She watched him for a second, seeing that he wasn't taking in the view at all. The day's events, thrust upon him unexpectedly, had had a toll in a way he hadn't experienced before. Perhaps she could forgive his apathy for write ups this time. She walked over to his place at the window.

"Hey," she said. She looked through the blind to see what he was seeing. He glanced at her, and paused slightly before greeting her back.

"Hi."

They stood in silence for a minute, absorbing each other a little.

"So when did Alexis go?" Kate said, resting her weight to one side, still looking out at the fluorescent glow of the buildings opposite them. Castle blinked.

"Last week. Brown do an introductory week before classes start and she wanted to be settled."

Kate nodded, remembering the same feeling, but wondering for the first time how it must have felt for her parents when she disappeared from their family home for the first time, after eighteen years.

"Why did that little girl today have to have red hair?" He said it under his breath, to himself but loud enough for Kate to hear and wonder at the side of him she didn't know much of. Next to her stood a man who had raised a child next to single-handedly, since he was 23 years old. He'd seen her through diapers, illnesses, ponies, bruises, parties, school, nightmares, dreams, sleepovers, boys, and now... the person he'd devoted everything to had just gone from his day to day life. She let her hand move to his arm, and squeezed a little as she touched him.

"C'mon, Castle. Let me buy you a burger and you can tell me Baby Alexis stories."

He turned away from the window and wandered slowly after her towards the exit. Over her shoulder, she looked at him a few steps behind, and said with the hint of a teasing smile, "Besides, who's to say you won't have that again?"

He gazed back at her, raised his eyebrows at the thought that hadn't occurred to him, and she looked away as another, altogether different look of realisation brought the eyebrows back down again and the corners of his mouth turned up. Who indeed.