N/A : Alexis is younger than in canon (14yo in 2014) and Beckett already is Captain - the rest..you'll find out in time. Bear in mind, they're different versions than canon.
December 18th 2009
A man stumbles against the wall with a shaky breath, bloody palms catching himself as his hands glide along the surface, leaving behind thick, finger-shaped, red trails.
He sniffs as he pushes himself up and staggers through the hallway with unsteady legs. His face crumbles and a sob breaks free from his lips.
"What is it, Daddy?"
He whips his head round, an arm coming to brush across his mouth, his crimson red hand trembling as another sob cracks his mouth open with a desperate grunt. "Go get your sister."
The small child considers the man, cocking her head before walking away with bouncing steps, seemingly unconcerned.
The man then rushes in the master bedroom, opens the nightstand drawer, his hand wrapping tight around cold, heavy steel.
His hands shake and tremble, hot tears travel down the sharp traits of his face to finally nest into his growing stubble.
When he reaches the living room, two blonde girls are sitting on the sofa, the oldest one holding her sister against her chest as the younger one glances around quietly.
The gun dangles at the side of the man's leg, moves up, then down. The hand tightens its hold around it until the knuckles go red to white. The man releases a loud breath as his eyes harden with resolve.
"Sarah, take your sister to the car."
The five-year-old studies her father's face for a moment with furrowed brows, her mouth starting to part around a protest.
"NOW."
The word bounces and echoes around the cold and dreary room, making both girls startle, while the older one springs to her feet hastily dragging her sister behind.
The roaring motor of the car grunts and grumbles louder and louder, wheels screeching at every turn.
"Daddy, you're going too fast," the girl says with a quiet but distressed voice.
The man squares his jaw and squeezes the steering wheel hard before pushing his foot on the gas pedal as far as it would go, driving the vehicle to a crazy speed.
"Daddy, you're scaring Eden," the girl tries again, fear now strongly tinting her words.
"SHUT – UP." The man shouts turning his head towards the girls with wide, bloodshot eyes as the car starts spinning out of control and sliding across the frozen road, dangerously heading towards the edge of the cliff.
But before the man can do anything, the vehicle dives into the void.
December 18th, 2014
Richard Castle was habitually a man of patience – when he wanted – but this was his family and the feds who were in charge of the case – or rather, not on the case- started to get on his every nerve, and he'd been feeling like he was the only one looking for them.
The life-altering call had come exactly five years ago, on a chilly winter morning of december.
"Dad, do you honestly think that's necessary?" the young red-haired girl asked with an amused smile, yet her head shook and her eyes rolled.
"I'm not getting out of this until they come fix the thermostat," the writer answered with a pout and folded arms, though his cheeks were starting to get warm. But he wouldn't admit he was getting too hot, entirely clad in a ski suit; he was trying to make a point here – although, he was not fully sure what it was anymore.
"It is not that cold, come on, you'll stifle if you keep that up," she said around a laugh, stepping forward to start gliding the zipper down the heavy jacket.
He huffed at her and was about to answer when the cheerful Christmas themed ringtone cut him short.
"Richard Castle, what can I do for you?" he answered with a cocky tone, to which the teenager rolled her eyes, before going towards the kitchen to make them both lunch.
What the young girl couldn't see as she walked away was how critically fast her father's face fell, how his throat worked hard to refrain a sob from breaking free, how his legs turned to water and had him reaching for the door frame of his office, how his finger squeezed around the phone as the voice kept going on and on, while he had long stopped listening.
Wordlessly, face devoid of any expression, he remained unmoving.
Confused by the prevailing and unnerving silence, the teenager turned around to face her father and frowned, her mouth parting, then shutting a few times.
"Dad..?"
He jerked his head up to face the girl without truly seeing and swallowed hard, the hand supporting him shaking, but no word came, his constricted throat preventing any sounds from coming out. His eyes filled and tears slowly streamed down his face one by one before he could do anything about it – not that he could have. The girl then rushed towards him and ploughed into him silently, letting his entire figure slump above and around her.
The shock had been a real beast to get rid of, and at first, he hadn't been able to believe his brother would do such horrendous things. But his DNA had been found all over his wife, and it had been confirmed by members of her family that his brother had become an alcoholic, and the autopsy had also offered proofs of abuse. He had blamed himself for quite a long time, granted, he hadn't seen his brother in years, but he had however, often visited when his brother was not home to see the girls. He should have had seen the signs, he noticed things, it was his thing – or so he liked to think.
His sister-in-law had quickly become like a real sister to him, and had been close to Alexis. A petite blonde, with such deep green and kind eyes. She probably was the most generous and soft-spoken person he had ever met. She always had known about the..tensions between his brother and him, and had never mentioned or questioned it. Whatever had happened, she didn't deserve this, and his brother would have to pay the price - if he already hadn't.
For about a year, he had devoted all his free time looking for them. Part of him knew it was a way to make himself useful, to do something, anything. The FBI had taken over the case, but none of them or the car was ever found and the case grew cold, only to be left behind and brushed aside. The writer eventually gave up after two years of endless days and nights, more often spent around a glass of liquid amber than making any progress. He had no reliable resources after all, had no idea where his brother would have been heading in his haste.
But a part of him was convinced that they were alive, and he couldn't bear the thought of the girls being left on their own – or worst, with his brother.
And here he was, five years later.
"Listen, I know it's been a long time, but you've got to do something!"
He stared at the bored looking officer who just wouldn't let him through, and huffed with indignation painted all over his face. "Five years."
"So you've told me about ten times since you came in here," the officer started, holding his palms high in an attempt to ease him down. "Sir, this is the homicide department. If you haven't witnessed anything and have nothing to report, you're wasting your time- and ours."
The writer let out a bitter laugh, a hand coming to stroke his chin as he shook his head, "My brother and nieces have been missing for five years,"
"Which does not mean they're dead, ."
"Alright, now that's just stupid, will you pl-"
"Hey! What's going on here?" A clipped, quite annoyed voice interrupted him and all heads spun around to look at the woman standing in the middle of the precinct, hands on her hips.
He glanced at her with wide eyes and suddenly felt at loss of words, and since he couldn't talk, he let his eyes travel from her honeyed chestnut waves, to her endless toned legs - sadly mostly hidden by a dark pencil skirt - but not before admiring the way the gold in her eyes swirled and vibrated under her fierce glare.
Who was that?
"Ah.. I was just-" he stuttered, pointing a finger between him and the officer, but failed to finish his sentence.
"Trying to bulldoze your way into my precinct, and distract my detectives?" she asked raising an eyebrow and folding her arms as she stepped towards them, either slightly making him want to bolt out of the room, or stay and stare at her all day long – he wasn't exactly sure. "That I can see."
My precinct, was she- no, surely, she couldn't be.
"What? No! I just wanted to-"
"I don't care what your first intent was, so unless you have any information regarding any of the murders my detectives are currently trying to work on – you have no business being here."
He internally whistled to himself, visibly impressed, but remembered why he was here and stood his ground, defying her with his own hardening eyes. The bright ocean blue of his eyes darkened into a stormy sea and clashed with the blazing fire in her own in a battle of elements. None of them willing to surrender to the other.
"I need help finding my brother and nieces," he started, only to get interrupted – again.
What was it with that woman ?
"What don't you understand in the word Homicide, exactly?" she asked, a finger tapping her forearm, a clear indication of her growing irritation.
"Just hear me out," he offered with softening pleading eyes, feeling brave enough to step closer hoping that she would see something in him that would made her yield.
He watched as her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed, the wildfire tamed into gentle golden sparks twirling around her dark irises as she seemed to consider his request.
"Alright. Follow me," she answered, giving him a long look before walking away with a very enticing swing of her hips, which he stared at way longer than necessary, leaving him almost tripping over himself to catch up with her.
"So, let me get this straight," Captain Kate Beckett paused as she pinched the thin bridge of her nose, her arm slightly muffling her words, "Your brother killed his wife, ran- drove away with his daughters, fell down a cliff and no one was found ever since."
Surely, the man was crazy. There was no way anyone had gotten out of this alive – but he had some balls on him, she'd give him that. Fives years and he was still looking and hoping to find them, that was admirable enough to her, and was far from being a foreign feeling.
She knew all too well.
Still.
"In five years," he added with a nod.
"In five years," she drawled, looking back at him with furrowed brows, one finger coming to stroke above one of them, making her look wistful. She then lay both her hands flat against her desk with a closed-lipped, regretful smile. "Look, this is still technically not something we deal with, ."
"You know my name-"
The Captain pinned him with a dark stare, leaving him no room whatsoever for what he had coming next.
"Right. Well. You still have a killer on the loose, don't you ?" He challenged her with an eyebrow raised, convinced that would do the trick.
"From what I've seen here, he's been reported dead."
"Which was never proved."
Captain Beckett dropped back in her armchair with a sigh, angling her face aside to give herself a minute to ponder on what her next moves would be. She could dismiss the guy as fast as she had welcomed him in here, it was not her case after all and, she could very well get into trouble for interfering with a case that was not hers. But...something in the way he held himself, the tension in the corner of his eyes even when he tried to hide it, called to her. Had her guts squeezing and her heart throbbing just a little bit faster, because she knew, and recognized that look in his eyes.
She had had the same, for years.
She looked at him, her now softening warm brown eyes studying him intently, so intently that he had to refrain himself from squirming in his seat.
"Listen, I can't ask my people to hunt ghosts, they already have enough on their plate," she tried carefully and slowly, as if talking to a frightened child, "That being said, I- I will try to dig some more."
Just because, whoever had been in charge of that case hadn't been thorough; no bodies had been found after all, and yes technically, the man could still be alive.
So could the girls.
He grinned at her, "Thank you so much, how can I pay you back? You interested in a night out?" he offered, wiggling his eyebrows at her, which owed him a very unimpressed snort.
His ever changing moods had her off-balance, she knew who he was – of course she did - and therefore wasn't all that surprised nor impressed, but he kept joking only to turn dead serious in a matter of seconds, but she saw right through it, knew it was just a facade, to hide away the pain.
She knew that, too.
"I'm not making any promises, it's already been a long time, and if they haven't found anything five years ago, it's very unlikely that I will."
"Just try, that's all I'm asking. I-" He huffed and slumped forward, supported himself on his forearms and looked at her under a deep frown that plunged his eyes into a midnight blue. "My brother and I never were on good terms, I've long made peace with him being gone- but those little girls? You have to find them."
She observed him once again, wondering if that was even remotely close to the truth. Going by the look on his face, he hadn't made peace with any of it - quite the contrary.
Her finger repeatedly tapped against the hardwood, her mouth twisted as she took a moment to process everything.
Then, she extended her hand with an open hand, forcing down a gasp at the feeling of his large and strong hand around her own. "I'll call you."
What had she gotten herself into.
Happy Castle Monday? Ha! Here's my Winter Ficathon story, I won't give you the prompt just YET. All you need to know is that it is loosely based on a movie - I'll give cookies to whomever finds what it is.
I have been writing this for months now, and I do have six chapters done (and I don't think it'll be over ten but...maybe.). However, it's been a REAL struggle to find people who had some free time to proof read my work, and only three/four chapters are ready to go for now - which is why I'll start with ONE update every week and I'll adjust to more if possible. In the meantime, thanks to everyone who helped me with this - you'll recognize yoursElVES (hahaha).