So…this is absolutely not what is going to happen. But what is fanfiction if not a place to abandon all pretense of reality? I'm sorry. I just got a little riled up about the last "Next week on Castle" promo and this is my gut reaction. So, um, spoilers for 47 Seconds and the promo for The Limey.


Now the Sirens have a still more fatal weapon than their song, namely their silence.
And though admittedly such a thing never happened,
it is still conceivable that someone might possibly have escaped from their singing;
but from their silence, certainly never.

Franz Kafka


"Alexis, can you grab those charts and take them out there? I need to get some printouts. I'll be out there in a sec."

"Yes, Dr. Parrish." Alexis picks up her clipboard, wipes a strand of hair behind her ear, and walks out into the morgue. Where she runs into a distracted-looking Kate Beckett.

"Detective." Alexis curls her fingers around her clipboard. But Lanie sent her in here to wait. So she's stuck here with Kate Beckett, who is so not her favorite person right now.

"Oh – Alexis." The detective looks uncomfortable, her eyes flicking away like she wants to leave.

Beckett checks her phone, purses her lips at something, and tucks the phone back into her pocket. Alexis grits her teeth. She has nothing to say. So she lets the dead silence stretch on, until finally the older woman looks positively awkward and clears her throat. "Um – is there something you need?"

Her dad's face flashes in her mind – that sad look, the strained smile he's been showing since this woman dropped his heart on the ground and crushed it under her heavy black heels – and Alexis suddenly has this terrible anger, this overwhelming need to protect the man who just wants to love and cherish and give. Dad isn't a perfect man. But he's good. And he doesn't deserve this.

(And ever since she overheard him and Gram talking in hushed tones a few days ago, figured out why he's turning into a jerk, she's been so quietly angry at this woman she can't handle it.)

"You need to tell my dad the truth."

Oh.

She didn't mean to actually say it out loud.

Well, it gets her attention. Beckett looks up, startled. "I'm sorry?"

Alexis takes a deep breath. But now that she's started, it comes spilling out. "I want you to apologize to him. Because you know exactly what he said, and you know how he feels, and you lied. Now he's a mess. He's an idiot. He's dating that worthless tramp just because she's not you. And even though you're treating him like a toy, he's still following you around because he's good. Because he cares. And your job is dangerous. What happens when he gets hurt because you can't just tell him the truth?"

Alexis sucks in a long breath. Oh – oh, did I just – She isn't used to upbraiding people. Certainly not people like Kate Beckett.

But Detective Beckett doesn't look angry. Not at all. In fact – Alexis blinks – if anything, she looks – freaked? Seriously, seriously scared. Her face is frozen and her eyes are wide.

"What did you say?" Alexis isn't sure which part she's referring to. But the detective swallows and continues. "You said I lied."

"When you got shot." Alexis forces herself past that day, the memory of the screaming and the blood and the terror. "You know what he said. You lied."

Beckett stares at her, face getting paler. "How did you – "

"I heard Dad talking to Gram. She hates the woman he's seeing. And he said he was just doing what she told him. Getting over you. Because you don't care about him."

As she says it, Alexis watches, amazed. Beckett crumples. Her face falls. She actually takes a step back, bumping into the instrument table, and she slumps against it, covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh, God. No."

"What?" Her irritation is fading a little, because she's not sure what she was expecting – defiance? apathy? – but Beckett looks crushed. Utterly crushed.

"He doesn't – he doesn't understand – " The detective shakes her head. "I didn't mean it like that."

Alexis frowns. "But – he said – "

"What did he say? Exactly?"

"Gram was saying something about him dating some worthless Barbie doll, and he said he was just doing what she told him. She said the way to get over you wasn't just to hook up with the polar opposite of Beckett. And he just said that if you'd rather be honest with a murder suspect than tell him the truth, he could do whatever he wanted because apparently there was never anything there in the first place."

"And that's what he thinks. He thinks I don't care about him."

Beckett's face goes blank. Alexis is getting uncomfortable. Because – apparently Dad's wrong. He must be. Because there is no way, no possible way, a woman who doesn't care about him could be so wholly crushed by what she's just heard. Could she?

"Here you go, hon- Kate? You okay?"

They both turn, startled, to find Lanie watching them warily, obviously seeing the haunted look on Beckett's face.

The detective recovers fastest, taking a deep breath, straightening. "Fine, Lanie. Fine. Thanks." She takes the toxicology printouts and glances over them quickly. "These look good." She turns as if to go, but then bites her lip and looks back, one hand on the door. "Alexis? Thanks. I – just – thank you for telling me."

"Sure."

Alexis can only watch, confused, as Beckett leaves.