So, finally, a new story! It feels like it's been forever since my last post. I blame university for that; it's certainly been keeping me plenty busy... learning about the physiology of the kidneys and how the heart makes itself beat, not to mention chiselling open dead people's skulls to learn about the anatomy of the brain... lots of fun stuff like that. I do love being a med student.
But though I haven't had a lot of free time, I've still been doing a lot of writing, working on a few different stories and a lot of random drabbles. And so hopefully I'll be able to keep posting stories fairly regularly, maybe one every couple of weeks. That is, if all goes to plan.
So anyway, you may notice this story is a little different to my usual style– so pretty much, not overflowing with fluffiness for once lol– but rest assured, it is most definitely a Caskett story... just in case you were worried lol.
Just to point out the obvious- I've uploaded this story as a twoshot, because somehow it ended up a lot bigger than I intended, and I figured that two 5,000 word chapters are probably a little easier to read than one 10,000 one. And so as you can probably see, I've posted both chapters now, and the story is now complete. Woo!
Anyhow, just want to take a moment to say that I don't own Castle, but I sure as hell respect those who do. They have created something amazing, and I honestly take my hat off to them. Or at least, I would, were I actually wearing a hat. You get the idea though.
As always, if there are any parts that are at all OOC, or need fixing in any way (there's a couple of parts I'm a little unsure about...), please let me know and I'll gladly do whatever I can to improve them. Constructive criticism is always very welcome :)
But anyway, that's enough from me now.
Enjoy!
She hated when he looked at her like that.
How the hell he did it, she'd never been able to figure out. But every time he gave her that damn pleading look– those big blue eyes holding hers, all soft and imploring and so goddamn hard to resist– she'd have to fight to keep herself from just giving in, from simply falling into those gorgeous eyes and letting him have absolutely anything he asked for.
And this time she was having to fight particularly hard. Back when he'd first started working with her, saying "No" to him was as easy as breathing. Hell, easier, even. But then time slowly wore on, and somewhere along the line their relationship had begun to change, the transition so gradual that she'd barely noticed it happening around her. And with every month that passed, with every new ordeal they'd faced– and defeated– together, the closer they had become; until somehow, he was her best friend, her partner, and she found herself willing to do just about anything for him.
She knew he wouldn't even ask if it weren't so desperately important to him. Their current case had hit him much harder than most, and she didn't need a single one of her detective skills to know why; not when every single one of their five victims had been left with one of his novels open in their hands, whole paragraphs obscured by smears of blood.
The thought still sent a shiver down her spine. This one was personal. And not just for Castle himself. Ryan, Esposito– even Lanie and Montgomery– had all thrown themselves into the case, working with a single-minded determination reminiscent of what she'd seen in them back when they'd worked her mother's case. Her team at the 12th looked after their own.
And, pretend-cop or not, Castle was definitely one of their own.
Remembering the aggrieved, guilt-ridden look that would shadow his face every time they went to a new murder scene– every time they saw one of his novels cradled, almost reverently, in the hands of the dead– Beckett gritted her teeth, feeling a fresh surge of fury against whoever was doing this to him. In her mind, there were some things that were simply unforgivable.
Causing her partner pain was one of them.
Whoever this killer was, he had better hope to hell that Ryan and Esposito were the ones to find him. At worst, they might give him a few well-deserved bruises. If she caught him, she wasn't so sure that he would make it to prison all in one piece.
She was going to agree to Castle's plan. She knew it. To be honest, she'd known it the moment he suggested it. She wanted to get this guy as much as Castle did, and if Castle was right– if this supposed informant really did have a lead for them– they could have him behind bars in a matter of hours.
The possibility was certainly difficult to ignore, although probably not as difficult as Castle's pleading gaze, which was still focused unwaveringly on her face. At least he had the sense to be silent, letting her think it through, rather than trying to press his case. He knew her well enough to know when it was time to shut up.
It was a strange thing to realize, really, but somewhere along the way he'd come to know her mind better than almost anyone else; probably almost as well as she knew it herself. Oddly, the idea pleased her.
Dropping her gaze, she shook her head slightly, thinking. After another few moments of silent contemplation, she took a deep breath, lifting her head to meet his steady gaze once more.
"Alright, run it by me again, Castle. This guy, whom you've never met before, calls you–"
Castle nodded eagerly, cutting her off as he continued for her.
"–And tells me he has information that could lead us directly to the Bookworm Killer. Yes. And no, I haven't met him before, but he's apparently a friend of a friend–"
"–A friend of Fat Tommy's," she interjected, her voice containing just a trace of skepticism. "But you've got no name, so there's no way to confirm that. And clearly he's not going to come to us, since he's a friend of Fat Tommy's–"
"–And probably as crooked as Tommy is." Castle nodded again. "I know. Which is why we need to do this. We need to go to him, just you and I, undercover. Because he told me–"
"–No cops, or he's gone. I remember. And so your plan is–"
"–To go in there together, introduce you as my girlfriend, and just hope that–"
"–He's actually got real information and we haven't just walked into a potentially lethal trap?" Beckett suggested, raising her eyebrows skeptically as she looked up at him.
Sighing softly, she added, "It's a hell of a risk, Castle. If we do this, we'd need to have backup. Ryan and Esposito would definitely have to be camped out–"
"–Somewhere nearby, ready to move if things go south. I know. And I know it's a huge ask, Beckett, but really you know that I wouldn't–"
"–Ask if it wasn't so important," Beckett finished for him, nodding slowly. "I know, Castle. And you're right to ask. This could be our only shot to get this guy."
"So you'll do it?"
"Yes, Castle. I'll do it."
His face suddenly relaxed, the tension swiftly leaving his body as he exhaled in a rush, making her realize he'd been holding his breath.
"Thank you, Kate," he said quietly, his eyes on hers. "This one means a lot to me."
"It means a lot to all of us, Castle," she responded just as quietly, holding his gaze silently for a moment before adding, "And I owe it to you to give this a shot. You did the same for me once, remember, back with Raglan in that diner."
Castle gave her a small smile. "Well, I'm kind of hoping no one gets shot this time."
"Me too," Beckett agreed with a smile, then tilted her head slightly as she continued. "Now come on, we only have a few hours to set this up before the meet time, and we still need to get the guys on board."
Castle's eybrows drew together, his expression suddenly concerned.
"They'll do it, right?"
Beckett simply looked at him silently for a moment, then nodded. When it came to Castle, the boys might not be total pushovers like she was, but they still cared about him, and they took their brotherhood thing seriously. They would back him every step of the way.
Smiling in relief, Castle paused, looking down at her.
"I promise you won't regret this, Beckett," he said, then smiled a little wider, lifting an eyebrow. "Honestly, what could possibly go wrong?"
Reaching up, Beckett slapped him lightly over the back of the head, laughingly chiding him for his blasé attitude and muttering warnings about tempting fate and famous last words. They were both grinning as they headed towards Ryan and Esposito's desks, but despite their playful exchange, Beckett couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge in the back of her mind, a nagging feeling that things might not go quite as smoothly as Castle hoped.
In all her years as a cop, her instinct had never let her down. So naturally, when it tried to tell her something, she listened.
But not this time.
No matter what misgivings she may have, she couldn't deny Castle this chance, this opportunity to see justice done and to assuage his own burden of guilt.
As they walked side-by-side, she looked up at the man that was her partner and friend, the man who had come to mean so much to her, and did something she'd done very few times in her life.
She prayed that her instinct was wrong.
###
The fist ploughed forcefully into Castle's stomach, causing the shackled writer to double over once again, retching and spitting blood. Beckett flinched at the swift, vicious blow, her stomach twisting with rage and fear as she watched Castle struggle to drag himself upright. Forcefully tearing her gaze away from him, she lifted her eyes to glare hatefully at the man who dared lay a hand on her partner, clenching her teeth tightly as she imagined breaking every single one of his goddamn fingers so he could never make a fist again.
But right now, there were higher things on her to-do list, the highest of which was figuring out a way to get Castle out of here alive. Determinedly renewing her struggles against the iron grips of her two steroid-enhanced captors, she concentrated hard, her mind racing as she worked on formulating her plan.
This was all her fault. She knew that. She'd had a bad feeling about this meeting right from the start, but when they'd reached the designated meeting point– an old, abandoned mechanic's garage downtown– she'd known immediately that something wasn't right.
And yet she hadn't done a thing about it.
She'd simply continued walking hand-in-hand with Castle, playing the role of the caring, supportive girlfriend, and said nothing. She'd cared too much about him, about his feelings and his desperate need to catch their killer, and now, her weakness would cost Castle his life.
And to think, just minutes ago, everything had been going to plan.
-/-/-/-
Inside the garage, their informant was waiting, looking anxious and sweaty. Small and wiry, he was a weaselly little guy, his blonde hair thinning and his eyes a watery blue. And he was, apparently, alone.
For a brief moment, Beckett thought that maybe her sense of foreboding had been unfounded after all– until she heard the tiny, telltale squeak of rubber on concrete somewhere behind her. Years of training kicked in instantly, and like lightning she spun to face the newcomer, her hand tearing from Castle's to reach for the gun at her hip.
Only there was no gun. She'd forgotten that they were undercover, and that right now, she was Kate the girlfriend, not Beckett the cop.
"She's got reflexes like a cat, this one," chuckled the squeaky-shoed newcomer, eyeing her appreciatively over the gun he was aiming at her chest. "Usually I got my gun to their head before they even realise I'm there."
"Save your admiration for later, Victor," drawled a high, nasal voice from behind Beckett, one she knew instantly as belonging to their supposed informant. Turning back to face him, she used the movement to shift her body slightly, instinctively placing herself between Castle and the gun.
Their informant no longer seemed anxious, instead looking relaxed and even somewhat smug as he gave them a broad, lazy smile. In the few moments her back had been turned, he'd been joined by another man, as big and brawny as the one he'd called Victor, although this man's head was shaved completely bald, not in a buzz cut like the other. She felt Castle press against her side and slipped her hand back into his, giving it a slight squeeze, a silent promise that she would get them out of this okay.
"Brock," the informant said casually, "Tie Mr Castle's hands and put him on the chain. Victor, you keep the gun on the girl until Brock is done, and then I want both of you to hold on to her tight, right here where Mr Castle can see her nice and clear. I want him to be able to see what will happen to her if he displeases me."
He gave Castle a slow, nasty grin, and she felt Castle's hand tighten almost painfully around hers, his whole body stiffening in apprehension. She returned the grip just as tightly until the one named Brock grabbed Castle, tearing his hand from hers and yanking his wrists together to be tied, knotting the thin rope cruelly tight.
Once he was sufficiently bound, Brock grabbed him roughly by the shirt, towing him a few steps away to the right. Aware that there was a gun still aimed at her back, Beckett forced herself to remain still, following them with her eyes only, despite every one of her instincts clamouring for her to protect Castle, to remain by his side no matter what.
At that moment, Castle looked back at her, a helplessness and fear in his gaze that tore at her heart. She knew him well enough to know that it wasn't himself that he was most afraid for, and in the brief moment that their gazes met, she could read the look in his eyes as clearly as if he had shouted it. He wanted her to make a run for it, save herself while she could.
He had to know it was a futile hope. She wasn't going anywhere; and not because of the gun at her back. That was no huge problem. If she wanted, she knew that she could disarm the man quickly, and without too much difficulty. Were they up against him alone, his gun would already be in her hands.
But to disarm him now meant leaving Castle momentarily vulnerable to his two companions, both of whom were unknown quanities, possibly armed and most likely dangerous. No, it was an idea far too risky to even consider– which was why she was going to play this one cautiously, take a little more time to assess what they were dealing with before she made her move. To make rash decisions now would be to put Castle's life in even greater danger, which was a risk she simply would not– could not– allow.
All this ran through her mind as she watched Brock drag him to one of the metal supports used for raising a car to be worked on, the big man briefly bending down to grab the end of a long, heavy chain that was hooked around the base of the support.
Forcing a loop of the chain over Castle's head, Brock pulled it tight, causing Castle to wheeze and splutter as the metal links dug into his skin. Forgetting the gun at her back, Beckett took a reflexive step forward, the need to protect Castle so instinctive and ingrained that she couldn't stop herself.
"Uh-uh, girl," said a rough, deep voice from behind her, and a moment later a huge hand closed around her upper arm, holding her back. Once more conscious of the fact that this man was armed, Beckett had to suppress the impulsive urge to break his beefy wrist, reminding herself firmly that– considering the fact that she was both outnumbered and outgunned– antagonizing their new friends would most likely not be a particularly good idea at this point.
Instead, she looked back over her shoulder at him, making her eyes appear wide and frightened-looking while she quickly assessed him. He'd holstered his gun, she was pleased to notice; she could see the faint bulge at his hip where it was covered by his jacket. Good. That would make things easier.
"Brock, take the girl's other arm. And bring her a little closer. I want her to have a front-row seat," drawled the informant, who was now slowly approaching Castle, a vicious, excited gleam in his eyes.
"And now, Mr Castle, it's time you and I had a little chat."
Stopping directly before Castle, he smiled, and then sank a fist into his gut.
-/-/-/-
Now, barely minutes later, he was still wearing that same infuriating little smile, watching almost amusedly as Castle struggled to pick himself up off the dirty, oil-stained concrete for the third time in as many minutes. Beckett's eyes were on Castle too, her heart in her throat as she saw how he winced with every slight movement as he slowly, laboriously pulled himself to his feet. Tearing her eyes from his bruised and bloodied face, she turned her furious gaze to their informant, her eyes narrowing as she once more envisaged all the things she would do to him once she was free of his thugs.
And, if her newly-formed plan worked like she hoped it would, that time would come very soon.
"Why, Mr Castle, I owe you an apology," the informant said suddenly, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise as he explained, "I've completely forgotten my manners. I just remembered we've not been properly introduced."
Spreading his hands out in an expansive gesture, he smiled widely, then said, "So, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Raymond Dunbar, but we're all friends here, so you can call me Ray. And you'll excuse me if I don't shake your hand– I can see you're a little tied up at the moment."
Ignoring Ray's amused chuckle at his own joke, Castle spat out a little more blood, then lifted his furious gaze to the man before him.
"All those people. You killed them. Why?"
Ray laughed, a high, irritating sound.
"Me? Why, you wound me with your suggestion. No, Mr Castle, I am not the killer you're after. However, he did arrange this little meeting for us, and between you and me, he's not terribly fond of you. And sadly for me, it is my task to communicate to you the full extent of his… displeasure."
Taking in the small man's broad, easy grin, Beckett bristled, knowing beyond a doubt that he was enjoying himself immensely. Briefly she wondered whether he'd still smile so widely once she broke all of his teeth.
"But, no need to get to deeply into that now," Ray continued, oblivious to the hatred that was practically radiating from both of his captives. "We've got a whole evening ahead of us, and I want us to stretch out the fun as long as possible. For starters, Mr Castle, I feel that you should remember your own manners, and introduce your lovely companion to us."
Castle glanced quickly in her direction before silently returning his gaze to Ray, his eyes cold, his mouth a thin, resolute line.
Ray's smile faltered, and the next moment Castle's head snapped to the side, the forceful blow to his jaw almost sending him off-balance.
"I won't tolerate disrespect, Mr Castle," Ray reprimanded firmly, frowning. "Now, you will introduce us, or it won't be your pretty face that I'll be bruising. My mother raised me well, but I assure you, I am completely capable of striking a woman if the need arises."
"Her name is Kate," Castle growled, his eyes on the floor. "Kate Rodgers."
"A very pretty name," Ray said graciously, giving her a slight nod. After a moment's pause, he tilted his head, lifting his eyebrows questioningly as his gaze flicked between the two of them. "And the two of you are…?"
Castle glared. "She's my fiancée."
Startled, Beckett glanced at Castle. Fiancée? Where had that come from?
"Fiancée, indeed?" Ray's eyebrows lifted yet higher, his head tilting even further to the side as he considered them both. "I must admit that I'm a little curious as to why you would endanger your beloved fiancée by bringing her along to a meeting such as this, Mr Castle. Unless, perhaps, there's more to your lady than meets the eye?"
"No." Castle's response was firm. "She just didn't want me to come alone. We fought over it, but she was adamant, so I let her come along. I didn't think it would be dangerous. "
Beckett kept her face impassive, forcing back the tiny, dry smile that threatened to tug at her lips. She had to hand it to Castle; he sure knew how to sound believable. Seeming uncertain, Ray crossed his arms, giving Castle a long, penetrating look before speaking up once more.
"Well, there's one very simple way to check what you're saying is true. Victor?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Is she wearing an engagement ring?"
The meathead on her left grabbed her hand, lifting it up. "Nope."
Ray took a step closer to Castle, his eyes narrowing. "Care to explain yourself, Mr Castle?"
Castle hesitated for a moment, and suddenly seeing Ray's hand clench into a fist, Beckett spoke up, interjecting before he could strike Castle again.
"My necklace."
Ray paused, then slowly turned to face her. "Excuse me?"
"My ring," Beckett explained tightly, speaking through clenched teeth. "I wear it on my necklace so no one will see it. We've been keeping our engagement quiet."
As Ray approached her, she met Castle's eyes over his shoulder, seeing her partner give her a tiny, relieved nod. She met his gaze squarely, letting her eyes show him that she understood.
The moment Ray had asked whether she was wearing a ring, she had realized Castle's ingenuity; knowing that she would have her mother's ring to use as 'evidence', he had deliberately told Ray that they were engaged, effectively 'proving' her identity and removing her from all suspicion.
Ray halted in front of her, his clammy fingers brushing her neck as he gently lifted the chain from beneath her shirt. Examining the ring dangling from the end, he gave a low whistle.
"Well, what do you know? I apologize once again, Mr Castle," he said thoughtfully, seeming somewhat surprised but– thankfully– completely convinced. Carefully releasing her necklace, he glanced up at her, adding, "And my apologies to you as well, Miss Rodgers. Both for doubting you, and also for this whole unfortunate business. I imagine you must be somewhat... displeased... with me for my treatment of you fiancé."
Beckett looked down on the small man, giving him her coldest cop glare, feeling utter hatred boiling just beneath her skin. When she answered, her voice was low and deadly soft.
"If I could, I'd kill you."
Ray's eyes widened momentarily, looking almost frightened, before he blinked and recovered himself, forcing a broad, unworried grin.
"Well, well, well, she's a feisty one! Sounds like we've got a real wildcat on our hands here, boys," he said, drawing matching chuckles from the thugs on either side of her. Turning back to Castle, he added, "You're a very lucky man, Mr Castle. Most women in her situation would be beyond terrified right now, and only very few would ever dare risk offending me. Clearly, she loves you very much, to hate me so fiercely."
"Please, just let her go," Castle said quickly, a trace of desperation in his voice. "It's me you want. She's nothing to you."
Ray laughed. "Oh, no. Her presence was certainly unexpected, but I must admit I've taken a bit of a liking to your little wildcat. I think we can arrange something very special for her."
Stepping back, he looked at his two companions, lifting his brows with a lecherous grin.
"What do you think, boys? Enough for three to share?"
As his two cronies chuckled approvingly, Ray turned back toward Castle once more, favouring him with a conspiratorial smile.
"Don't worry about missing out, though, Mr Castle. I'll make sure you live long enough to watch."
Pausing theatrically, he added, "And you know, I'm not entirely unreasonable– I promise I'll make sure the two of you are buried together. It's the least I can do, and, well, I guess you could just say that I'm somewhat of a romantic at heart."
Seeing Castle's suddenly panicked look, Beckett made a decision. She'd let this whole circus go on far too long. It was time to start working on getting them out of here.
Sending up a quick prayer that this would work, she took a deep breath, and called upon every single trace of acting skill she possessed. Focusing hard, she allowed her muscles go lax, her body slumping in the grip of her captors, her head hanging low in feigned fear and defeat.
"I swear, if you touch her…" Castle growled, his voice low and surprisingly menacing.
"What, like this?" Ray taunted, running his finger slowly down her averted cheek. Repulsed, Beckett shuddered under his touch, gritting her teeth.
With a furious snarl, Castle lunged at Ray, only to be yanked off his feet almost instantly as the chain around his neck suddenly pulled taut, its links biting cruelly into his throat.
Momentarily forgetting her act, Beckett cried out to him, struggling against the vice-like grip of her captors as she fought to run to where he lay, choking and spluttering, his bound hands clutching at the chain that was crushing his windpipe.
Two strong pairs of hands tightened cruelly around her arms, the sudden pain returning her abruptly to her senses. Her eyes still fixed on Castle's limp, shuddering form, she took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down and remember her plan.
As much as it killed her to see Castle like this, letting her emotions get the better of her wouldn't help either of them. She needed to be smart, and completely in control.
Which meant that right now, she needed to listen to her head, not her heart.
Castle groaned and shifted, his face contorted with pain. Feeling helpless, Beckett could do nothing but watch, a tiny, involuntary sob escaping her throat as she stared down at him.
Using that feeling of helplessness as her cue, Beckett allowed her body to sag in defeat, once more leaning limply against her captors. Keeping her head down, she watched from beneath her lashes as Ray slowly approached Castle, shaking his head with a grim smile.
"Now now, Mr Castle, I hope you've learned a valuable lesson from that little stunt. I am not to be trifled with. But perhaps I should reinforce that point for you."
Pausing a step away from Castle, he added firmly, "Get up."
Still breathing unevenly, Castle looked up at him from his position on the floor, pure hatred in his eyes. He did not move.
Ray lifted his eyebrows slightly.
"I see," he said slowly, then suddenly lashed out, the hard toe of his boot slamming into Castle's ribs with a sickening noise.
This time Beckett managed to stifle her cry, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. Writhing in pain, Castle let out a low, agonized moan.
"Get up, Mr Castle," Ray repeated.
Slowly– moving tentatively, as if each movement were agony– Castle pushed himself to his feet, stiffly drawing himself to his full height as he glared down upon the much smaller man. The sight of his battered face– his skin dead pale under the darkened bruising and the crimson of his blood– brought tears to her eyes, and for a brief moment she struggled for breath, unable to breathe past the lump that was blocking her throat.
"Now, Mr Castle, I am going to remind you why it is in all of our interests for you to cause as little trouble as possible."
Drawing a long, military-style knife from his belt, he held it up for a moment, examining it. Then he looked up into Castle's widening eyes and smiled.
"It's a beautiful blade, this, don't you think? I certainly believe so. Why don't we see if your little wildcat agrees?"
"No!" Castle's response was fierce and instantaneous. "Stay away from her!"
There was a flash of movement and suddenly Castle cried out, a long, diagonal line of crimson forming swiftly across his chest. Clenching her teeth tightly, Beckett forced back the tortured sob that rose in her throat, her eyes stinging with tears of rage and fear.
"Now, look what you made me do, Mr Castle," Ray said, shaking his head mournfully. "You've irked me. I was entirely prepared to behave civilly and sort this out like proper men, but I admit you are beginning to get on my nerves. Now, you will restrain yourself, or the slice I give Miss Rodgers will be much deeper than that little scratch I just gave you."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and ambled over to her, leaning in close to lift the red-edged knife to her cheek. Involuntarily, her eyes flicked up to meet Castle's, holding his terrified, helpless gaze for a brief moment before she focused once more on the floor, trying not to shudder as Ray ran the blade just lightly over her cheek, leaving a faint line of Castle's blood upon her unbroken skin.
"Looks like your wildcat is actually just a scared little kitten after all," Ray mused, looking disappointed. "Shame. I like a woman with a bit of fight. Although, at least she– unlike you, Mr Castle– knows when it's time to give in and surrender to fate."
"No, Kate, don't give up," Castle begged, his voice suddenly panicked. "Please. You can still get away. You can still make it out."
Ray laughed, seeming genuinely amused.
"Somehow I doubt that, Mr Castle. Unless Miss Rodgers plans on somehow incapacitating all three of us all by herself, I believe I can safely say that she's going to stay right where she is."
Idly playing with the knife blade, he looked up at her, lifting his eyebrows. "Am I not correct, Miss Rodgers?"
Lifting her eyes to meet Castle's, Beckett took a deep, shuddering breath, and then let the tears begin to fall.
"Please, don't hurt me," she whimpered pathetically, dropping her head. "I don't want to die."
She began to sob, tears streaming down her face as she channelled everything she was feeling– all the fear, the rage, the pain– into the execution of her plan; and then, for the first time since her mother's death, she simply let go, allowing the normally indestructible walls of her self-control to crumble and fall.
As she let the torrent of raw, turbulent emotion flood forth, she knew that this was the pivotal moment, the moment that would make or break her feeble plan.
Hope you're enjoying it so far! See the next chapter for my full author's note at the end :)