Castles last coherent thought was he wished something would come along to distract him. He had three mysterious people in his story running around and being suspicious, then a dead body showed up and everybody's story seemed to dry up. Or get horribly banal. When he heard a noise in the loft he opened his eyes, he had needed to write so everyone made themselves scarce. He was alone in the loft. He held a sword as he crept out to check the great room.

Only to stop as he saw the man slumped on the stairs. Dirty gray hair and a camo jacket he looked the part of a veteran down on his luck. Then his head came up full gray beard and mustache but the eyes were recognizable. "Dad?"

"Hey I am glad its you I couldn't handle anyone else. " His words slurred and he seemed boneless until he flinched and straightened. Castle noticed blood on his t-shirt. "Are you hurt ? "First thing out of his mouth but not the first thought in his head. First thought was how did you get in here? Second was Are you involved in something that will get me in trouble with Beckett? He had just asked the universe to distract him, now he was rethinking that. He liked the way his life was and he didn't realize it until just now. When young he dreamed and written about mysterious globe-trotting men who killed, loved, made tough decisions and nothing stuck. He had thought they were cool, they kept moving to the next adventure. Something had changed

Castle spent the rest of the night trying to keep a loopy, paranoid person from staring out windows and going out to finish the Mission. What mission was a question, the few times Castle had met up with his Dad there was one but he also realized his intolerance to meds must be a family thing. Job could be all in his head, which would be a relief. He started jumping at shadows himself because his fathers paranoia could have real reasons. He imagined mysterious people out in the night looking for him. Castle got his father cleaned up and found clothes for him then wrote with one ear cocked toward the living room. He had come out three times to get him settled down to sleep off the meds. His father was sure that his numbness and tingling in his arm was permanent and he wasn't going to be able to shoot and protect himself. He was going to be a sitting duck if they found out where he was.

His father was staring out the window not seeing what is there.

"My partner, old partner had a daughter older than you, the closest thing you would get to a sister and me a daughter. I haven't had a partner for a long time. You pick on people sometimes because they aren't like you. You protect them because they are the heart of your team. Kind of like your Ryan at the precinct. Idealistic and by the book, They need to have details kept from them sometimes and people kept from preying on them. They aren't pretending to be the good cop to your bad, they are incorruptible. You should give them respect. They are easy to discredit when things are too complicated, that the high road takes too much stamina, when the bad guys know the loop holes better than you and how to use them. Be careful with the heart of your team, you are lost in the wilderness without them."

His knowing Ryan and comparing him to his old partner. A partner who died in such a way his team never recovered. His anxiety about his partners daughter, that somehow he might not be able to protect her got to Castle. " He had the phone in his hand three times to call Beckett, but wasn't sure her reaction to his Father. In the morning Castle was scruffy with lack of sleep the writing was done, the pillow and blanket stacked on the couch. His father had left the same way he had come in. Castles writers block had been resolved by a person who came in to the mix who caused everybody to doubt their motives and where they stood. Castle himself was unsettled, scared for his father, Becketts (and his) team, Ryan especially.