hey, guys. thanks for reading! just a few quick things:
1) i do not claim to know anything about (TRIGGER WARNINGS) adoption, abuse, or almond allergies. just so you know.
2) as much of an "old hat" at this ffnet thing and fanfic writing in general i am, i still don't know everything, so plz b gntl.
3) feel free to bug the crap outta me on tumblr (starophie)
4) i like music, so i'll be making a playlist probably for each chapter. if you'd like a zip file or something to dl, pm me!
playlist for entropy:
1. kaleidoscope heart - sara bareilles
2. collide - howie day
3. tonight's the kind of night - noah & the whale
4. look after you - the fray
5. entropy - katie gavin
sorry, one more thing. in this story, as with most works of fiction, i'm going to have to ask to suspend your disbelief a little bit. no one's gonna be turning into superheroes or raising flying monkeys or holding their breath underwater for an hour - but maybe people feel things too much or too little, and maybe things happen in this world in ways they shouldn't/couldn't/wouldn't in ours. i'm asking you to do the same thing you'd normally do when you watch castle or, for that matter, any other show on television - take everything with a grain of salt, and try and feel the humanity i've attempted to sow into these words.
nothing you recognize belongs to me.
love you all!
entropy /ˈentrəpē/ n. 1) (chemistry) the measure of disorder in a given system, usually denoted by the letter S; chaos.
If only.
Kate Beckett shot up like a rocket when her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She yanked the cord out and slid her tingly thumb across the screen.
"Beckett," she intoned automatically. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
She pressed 'End' before groaning and rolling to the left. As she stumbled out of her cozy alcove, she pressed the 'Favorites' button on her phone and selected the first option.
"Castle, we've got a murder." She tamped down a grin at his response and reprimanded him. "Don't sound so giddy!" Shaking her head, she said, "Bowery Soup Kitchen. We've been there before." She nodded and affirmed a "See you in twenty," before hanging up the phone.
She moved around her bed to the armoire by the door and picked out a pair of charcoal pants. In her mind, she formed an outfit, and moved through the drawers of the armoire and her dresser to get the pieces.
After dressing in the pants she'd chosen and a cream turtleneck and laying out a navy peacoat on her bed, she headed to her small vanity to do her makeup and get her parents' items from the jewelry box.
She ran her pointer finger lightly across the lid, tracing the outline of her parents' smiling faces. She was grateful to Castle every time she looked at the box, now. Though slightly charred, the hand carving was still in the beautiful condition her grandfather had left it in for her mother. It was simple, but elegant - and apparently, rather sturdy.
"Just like Mom," Beckett whispered. She slid the watch onto her wrist and latched it into place, and then reverently lifted the delicate chain from the red velvet and bent her head to put it on. She then slid open the lower drawer, withdrew her gun, and jammed it into its holster.
She looked around her apartment, which was still cloaked in a thick layer of dark. The almost-dawn skyline poked through her linen drapes, and she sighed at the hour. She was tired, and needed her coffee. A grin slipped, unbidden, onto her face, knowing that Castle would be waiting for her with two coffees and two bear claws (one for her and one for Lanie, of course). Much as she hated coddling, she enjoyed the warm feeling of someone looking out for her - making sure that she ate enough; worrying about her safety. She knew Castle knew she could take care of herself, but she also knew that he worried because he cared.
Royce's words reverberated in her brain. If only.
"I don't know, Mike."
Beckett grabbed her keys from the cork board, locked her door behind her, and went downstairs to the garage. There, in spot 17, was Thumper, her '94 Softail. She smiled as she took her helmet off its hook and hopped on.
Though named after a bunny, Thumper purred like a kitten as Beckett revved him up. She pushed back the kickstand and zoomed out of her space, pressing down the button to let her out of the garage.
The cool May dawn and the air whipping around her as she rode calmed Beckett. She liked the roar of the wind in her ears - it canceled out the rumbling thoughts in her mind better than any pricey pair of headphones. And her ride to the precinct was her morning ritual. When she didn't have a case, it was her breath of fresh air (literally) before she had to hunker down at her desk and go through mounds of paperwork. But when she did have a case, especially one she didn't have anything on yet (like this fresh one), it kept her from stewing too much before she even got to work.
So she just let the breeze consume her as she drove to the 12th. Before she knew it, she was turning onto East 9th and into the underground garage. She scanned her card and puttered down to the third level and her Vic.
"Hi, Liz," she greeted the navy squad car. "Ready for another case?" She'd parked her bike and locked it, so she unlocked the door of her sedan and got situated before leaving the garage again.
It was unusual for her to be returning to the same place where she had questioned someone about another murder, but it wasn't completely unheard of. To Beckett, though, the mystery right now was why someone would be killed at a soup kitchen. Her gut told her that this wasn't a garden-variety homicide, and she couldn't imagine a volunteer caught up in the middle of some scandal Castle was sure to concoct.
The writer was, of course, already at the scene when she pulled up. He rushed over to her and grabbed her door. She stamped out the silly grin trying to force its way onto her mouth and quirked an eyebrow instead.
He didn't respond, just handed her a fresh thermos of coffee and a bear claw.
"There are a bunch of people here, already." His voice was low. "Some kids."
Beckett knew Castle well enough to know that any time kids were involved in a case, his heart broke a little. "People she helped?"
He nodded solemnly. She jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen, and he lead the way.
They passed under the tape that one of the unis held up for them, and made their way over to Lanie and Esposito. Beckett spotted Ryan taking a statement from an older man standing in the corner. Looking more closely, she recognized him as the owner, Jim Van-Eps.
"White female, average build, mid-to-late-40s," Lanie stated, without preamble. Beckett noted that she had cropped blonde hair and soft, but slender, features. "One shot to the back of the head. Looks like a .38. And Beckett," Lanie said softly. "Signs of sexual assault."
Beckett inhaled sharply. "Any ID?"
Ryan walked Jim over at her question. "This is Mr. Van-Eps, the owner," he whispered quietly to Beckett.
"I believe we've met," Castle interjected. "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you again, but..."
Jim smiled slightly at Castle's attempt at levity. "You as well, Mr. Castle." He nodded in Beckett's direction. "Detective."
Beckett tipped her chin in acknowledgment. "She worked for you?"
Jim nodded. "Her name is - was - Agnes Bradley. She was a...beloved volunteer. She actually got to know some of our regulars, especially some of the teenagers who stay at the mission."
Castle grimaced slightly. "The girls standing over there?" He gestured to a cluster of kids, at the forefront of which were two teenage girls huddled and crying.
"Lucy and Charlie were the closest to her. Sometimes, they would come by to help her serve others, just to talk or be around her. I don't understand who would do this. Everyone loved her." Jim was obviously upset, so Beckett murmured her thanks and led Castle and the boys over and away from the body.
"What else did you find out, Ryan?" Beckett asked softly.
"Just that they close at midnight and open around four, and Aggie closed up alone last night."
Beckett nodded. "Alright, thanks. Castle, let's go see what these girls know, okay?"
They walked over to the group. One girl, the older-looking one, was wearing tatty yoga pants, sneakers, and an oversized sweatshirt. She was cradling the younger girl's head against her chest, and she was crying quietly. The younger girl's shoulders shook. She wore an army jacket, bleached skinny jeans, and floral Docs.
Beckett thought it a shame to interrupt their grieving, but knew she had to. "Excuse me, are you two Lucy and Charlie?"
"Yeah, I'm Lucy," the older girl replied shakily. "This is Charlie."
At the sound of her name, Charlie's head had perked up. Beckett noticed that her eyes were red, but her face was not wet. She made a mental note of that fact before asking them if they would answer a few questions. Both girls agreed, so Beckett and Castle led them to a table in a far corner.
"For our records, what are your full names and ages?"
Beckett noticed another oddity about Charlie - she looked at Lucy, frightened, before Lucy nodded at her and began to speak. "I'm Lucy Jones, and I'm twenty."
"I'm Charlotte Harris," Charlie said quietly. She looked up at Beckett with big, cobalt eyes. "I'm fourteen."
Beckett's heart clenched. "How well did the two of you know Ms. Bradley?"
Lucy spoke. "She was the best. Aggie kind of, just, had that motherly way about her. She knew exactly what to say without you telling her anything about what you were feeling. We came in here as often as we did to be around her; to have that kind of connection again. She was basically our mom." Lucy's voice cracked as she said the last sentence. Charlie raised a hand to rub Lucy's upper arm in support.
"Did you ever notice anyone in here that was threatening towards her?" Castle's voice was soft, and Beckett was reminded, once again, that he was a great father.
Charlie shook her head and glanced back at Beckett. "No, not at all. Sometimes we'd have a rougher crowd than others, but Aggie just told us to smile through it. That's what she always did. She used to say all these proverbs, like 'you'll catch more flies with honey' and 'kill them with kindness.' She believed that everyone had good in them, if you just let them show you."
The right corner of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and Beckett blinked a few times. Then she shook her head.
Castle seemed to notice her confused frustration, because he cut in. "Well, I think that's all we need right now. Is there a way we can get in touch with you if we need to?"
Charlie looked blankly at her folded hands, so Lucy spoke up. "If you call here, Jim or someone can get a message to us. Does that work?"
Beckett needed to regain her authority. "That's perfect," she said quickly. "We'll be in touch."
"Please catch the monster who did this." Lucy's voice was quiet, but firm.
"We'll do our very best." Beckett waved back at Charlie as she and Castle walked back over to Ryan and Espo, who had finished taking statements.
"What'd you find out, boys?" Castle was trying to lighten the tension, which Beckett silently appreciated.
"Boys?"
"Boys, bro?" Ryan and Esposito (respectively) were miffed, to put it mildly. Castle grinned with a twinkle in his eyes. Espo shook his head and answered the question. "Not much, you know. Our vic was well-liked, didn't fight, and has no history of criminal activity."
"Family?" Beckett asked softly.
"None." Ryan knitted his brow. "She was a total spinster."
"She didn't even have cats." Espo cut in.
Beckett glared and rolled her eyes. "That is so sexist!"
"How?" He held his hands up in self-defense.
"Because you automatically assume that since she's a childless woman who lives alone, that she would have cats. It's a bad stereotype." Castle nodded sagely.
"Live with women, bro, and you'll learn a thing or two." Ryan nudged his partner to let him know he was joking, and Esposito whacked him lightly.
Beckett got back to business. "Okay, guys. Can you go to Ms. Bradley's apartment and see if there's anything there that would tie her to anything illegal or dangerous?"
"Got it, boss," Espo joshed with a salute.
Beckett grinned, but inside, she was angry and upset at the fact that they had zero leads. As Esposito and Ryan left the soup kitchen, Castle looked over at his partner with concern.
"We'll find something."
"I hope so, Castle."
As they walked to Beckett's car to drive back to the precinct, Beckett decided to bring up something that had been bugging her.
"Castle?"
He looked over and noticed her lower lip between her teeth. "Yeah?" His voice was soft and soothing, the way she'd sometimes heard him speak to his mother and daughter. She allowed herself a brief moment to be comforted by that voice.
"Did you get a kind of...weird vibe from her?"
"From whom?"
She blew out her cheeks. "The younger girl we interviewed. Charlie?"
"I don't know. Can you elaborate?"
"Well, like...she kept looking at me." Beckett felt stupid for sounding so paranoid, but she'd felt the girl's eyes on her almost the entire time they talked.
"Yeah, I did notice that," Castle admitted. "But it wasn't like she was sizing you up. It was more like she was trying to memorize you."
"Well, that's reassuring," Beckett sniped.
"I just mean that it was like she'd met you before. Maybe in another life! Oh, how cool would that be, if you were both reincarnated from another life into this one and found your way back to each other!"
Beckett couldn't help letting a small giggle escape. "Shut up, Castle."
"Oh, you love my theories."
She couldn't deny that he made all of her bad days better. Much as she made a show about him being too immature for murder, she knew how appropriate he could be when he needed to be. And he had great instincts, that man. He knew just when she needed him to be serious, and just when she needed him to joke (even if she wouldn't admit that she needed him at all).
"But you don't think it's dumb, do you?" She was feeling vulnerable.
He looked down into her clear hazel eyes and smiled affectionately. "I never think you're dumb, Kate."
She barely dragged herself out of his crystal pools to focus her own eyes back on the road. But she started up her car, and they were on their way.
The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder...if only.
"You ready to go?" Lucy asked quietly. They had just been dismissed from a semi-staff meeting at the soup kitchen, in which Jim had given them details about Aggie's funeral and reminded them to stay safe.
Charlie nodded. She looked around nervously and pulled her satchel strap down with her thumb. "We're good. Let's go."
They walked up 2nd and Houston to the F train, took that to Bryant Park, and walked around to the library.
"What are we looking for, exactly?" Lucy whispered as they sat down at two computers.
Charlie tugged at her ponytail. "I honestly have no idea."
"Why didn't you ever tell me about him? You knew what happened with my uncle," Lucy said, a strain of hurt in her voice.
Charlie dropped her head. "I was just embarrassed, I guess."
Lucy patted her hand. "Yeah, I know. Okay, so tell me again what happened?"
Charlie took a deep breath. "Two years after my dad and brothers died, when I was ten, my mom got remarried to Brian." She bit the name out like it had a foul flavor. "By the time I was eleven, he had begun to beat on me. When I was twelve...he...he took it." Charlie was shaking, and Lucy kept her hands pressed against Charlie's to let her know she was still there. "And whenever I would fight back against him, he would beat on me and Mama. So I tried not to. But one day she found out what had been going on. She confronted him - said she was going to the police. She didn't know what was happening...he pulled out his gun and sh-shot her. She was just lying there, all crumpled a-and bloody..."
"Shh, baby girl, it's okay," Lucy soothed calmly. Her face was pained and sad, but she didn't let her own emotions get in the way of her instinct to comfort Charlie.
Charlie pulled back, face stark white, but tearless. Lucy looked concerned, but Charlie shook her head. "Anyway, that's when I left. Changed my name, et cetera. But, um, there's one thing I didn't tell you before."
Lucy cocked her head. "What's that?"
"Well, show you, actually." Charlie swung her satchel around to rest on her lap and began to rummage through it. She moved her teddy bear, Norman, out of the way, and pulled out a pink, blue, and green polka dot tin. She pushed up the corners with her thumbs. It swung open slowly on its hinge, and she rifled through the contents of the tin until she reached what she wanted.
It was a picture, actually. The photo paper was crinkled and yellowing, and Charlie delicately uncreased the image before handing it off to her friend.
Lucy clasped the photo gently in the crook of her index fingers with her thumbs. The girl in the picture was laughing, head thrown back. Charlie had figured she was maybe fifteen - only a bit older than her age now, she realized with a pang. She had her hair in a burgundy velvet scrunchie that matched her floral babydoll dress. Her hair was crimped and teased, and one foot was kicked up in the air, showing off the black tights that were tucked into her slouchy white athletic socks and Keds.
"Who is this?"
Charlie bit her lip. "You don't recognize her?"
Lucy tilted her head one way, then the other. "You know, she does look kind of familiar...oh," she said in wonder. "This is is the detective we met today, isn't it?"
Charlie nodded. "I think so."
"How did you get this?"
"Mama gave it to me, about a month before she...died."
Lucy looked over at her strangely, then. "Why would she have given you a picture of that detective? You didn't know Aggie then..."
"Luce, did I ever tell you I was adopted?"
Lucy scratched a spot next to her eyebrow. "You may have mentioned it once, yeah. Why?"
"Because this is a picture of my birth mother."
"But I thought it was a picture of-oh! Oh!"
"Shh!" An old man grunted at her from another table. Lucy started and waved her frantic apology.
Charlie grinned her half-smile in amusement, and then raised an eyebrow at her friend.
"I knew you were acting weird around her!" Lucy accused. "You kept staring at her, and you talked a ton - more than you talk to anyone but me!"
"Really?" Charlie blushed. "Do you think she noticed?"
"Nah, probably not." Lucy grew serious. "But if she is your birth mom, then isn't she legally responsible for you since you have no living family?"
"Well, no. Because technically, I do have living family."
Lucy's eyes went wide. "Who?"
"Brian Wright," Charlie muttered.
After they'd searched for hours for any information on Brian Scott Wright (without any hits), Lucy and Charlie began to pack it in. They decided to treat themselves to hot dogs on the corner and eat them in the park.
"Mmmph," Lucy groaned around her relish and mustard-y dog. "So good."
"You're disgusting," Charlie said with a giggle. But she made a very similar noise as she bit into her ketchup and onion footlong.
"Hello, ladies," a greasy-haired boy in black skinny jeans and a maroon hoodie simpered.
Charlie tried to surreptitiously scoot away from him while Lucy snarled a, "Get lost, loser," his way.
He held his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, there, chicas. Don't mean no harm. Just wanted to know if you're in the mood to party tonight!"
"No way!"
"Maybe?"
Lucy and the boy both stared at Charlie. "Are you sure, baby?" Lucy whispered.
"I don't know...I thought it would be fun?" Charlie looked nervous now that she'd suggested it.
Oblivious to the exchange, the boy said, "Alright! We're right near Walker Park. Just come to the old pill factory." He laughed at a joke only he knew. "Tell 'em Marco sent you, okay?" They nodded, and he walked away.
"We don't have to go," Lucy said, once he was out of earshot.
"I'll think about it." But Lucy knew she'd already made up her mind. Charlie was not one to back down from a challenge.
Later that night, they waited until the matron had come to their room, and then they quickly added make-up and jewelry to the outfits they'd hidden under the covers. Lucy helped Charlie out the window before following, and they began the thirty-minute walk to the pill factory.
"We're friends of Marco?" Lucy offered, once they got to the door.
The burly dude drew swirls on their hands with his Sharpie and let them pass.
"Yo, chicas!" Marco sidled up to them as they came in. "You came!"
Charlie nodded uncomfortably.
"Back off, chico," Lucy hissed. He held his hands up and backed away slowly.
"Thanks," Charlie said.
"Any time. Okay, so, what's the game plan?"
They split up. Lucy went to look for un-spiked drinks, and Charlie felt like dancing. She got caught up in the music, and made enough friends that she didn't notice how much time had passed between when Lucy said she'd be back and the present.
When she glanced at her watch, then, to realize it was past one AM, she was completely shocked.
"Have you seen my friend?" She asked a girl dancing by her. "Medium height, long dark hair, big-"
"I think she went home," the girl yelled back. "Mike, did you see her friend?"
"She went home!" Mike slurred. Charlie nodded her thanks and pushed her way out of the throng.
"Yo, chica! Where you goin'?" Marco asked as he found his way to Charlie's side for the second time that night.
"Home," she responded uncomfortably.
"So soon? Nah, bruh, you gotta stay! Party's just gettin' started!"
"No, Marco, I gotta-"
"Have a drink!" He ignored her, pushing a red cup into her hand.
"No, I-"
"Drink!" So she did.
She felt woozy, and the cup splashed out of her hand. Marco took her wrist and dragged her with him down the hall.
A bunch of naked girls were piled on the floor around a drum set. Marco pulled off Charlie's gauzy top and tight skirt as she tried vainly to fight him off, leaving her in bikini panties and a strapless bra, both of which he removed. He then pulled off her boots and socks, and rolled her on top of another girl. She tried to force herself to get up, but her body slowly lost more and more range of motion, and she succumbed to the blackness.
"Alright, dudes, you ready to play?" A nerdy kid with glasses yelled from the corner of the room. Marco sat behind his kit and waited for three other guys to take their places behind guitar, bass, and mic before he counted off a beat on his sticks.
"Rolling!" The camera kid called again, and they started filming their first music video.
On a lower floor, beneath the roar of two bands blasting their music, a shot went off. One body sank, lifeless, to the floor; another slunk off into the night.
"Alexis!"
"Yeah, Dad?"
Castle looked around for his daughter. "Where are you?"
"Getting ready!"
He looked at his watch. "Haven't you been getting ready for the past twenty minutes?"
"No wonder you haven't stayed married," Martha said, smacking the back of his head as she walked into the kitchen.
Castle rubbed his skull with a rueful pout. "What? It's not like she has an outfit to pick out!"
Alexis walked downstairs, glaring lightly at her father. "So? I have other things to do."
"Like-"
"You don't wanna know, kiddo," Martha cut in. Alexis smiled and walked over to her grandmother to kiss her good morning.
"Anyway, Dad, why the hurry? You know I don't have to be at school until 9," she furrowed her brow.
"Well, I was gonna drop you off today. You know," he said awkwardly at her bemused look, "get in some quality Dad/Alexis time before I have to go to the precinct. Beckett and I have that new case, and there aren't any leads, so I might be home late." He frowned and looked pleadingly at his daughter.
She sighed slightly and smiled. Pecking him on the cheek, she said, "That's sweet, Dad." Just then, his phone rang. Alexis tilted her head and grinned.
"It's Beckett," he said, unable to hide his pleased smile. "Detective Beckett! I was just talking about you."
He paused, taking in her response. "Ooh, how very intriguing! But I might be a little late. I was going to take Alexis to school today."
The girl in question motioned for him to pause the call. "Beckett, hold on a second." He held the phone away from his ear, muffling the speaker with three fingers. "What's up?"
"It's okay, really. You don't have to take me to school."
"But-"
"Tell you what. I'll buy you dinner tonight! Just the two of us. I mean, if Gram doesn't mind..."
Martha shook her head. "Of course not, darling."
Alexis nodded. "So it's settled, then. Tell Detective Beckett you'll be there right away."
Castle pouted, but put his ear back to the phone. "Never mind, Beckett! I have just been informed that my services are not needed." He nodded at whatever she said in response, and then said, "Alright. See you there."
Castle walked over to Alexis, and kissed her forehead. "Have a lovely day at school, offspring."
"Have a good case, Dad."
Martha blew him a kiss and said, "Good luck, kiddo!"
"Goodbye, Mother." He waved once and then left.
At the crime scene, Beckett was waiting with Lanie. "That was fast, Castle," she said upon spotting him.
"I know a shortcut," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes. "Where are the boys?"
"Off chasing leads on the Bradley case." She sobered.
"What's wrong?"
"The thing is, Castle..." She began. "You know our new vic. I do too."
"How do we know her?" He looked incredibly confused.
"We met her yesterday. The older girl at the soup kitchen, Lucy? Lucy Jones. She got shot in the back of the head."
Castle's face went blank. "Shot? Just like Aggie Bradley?"
"Same size, too," Lanie chimed in solemnly. ".38 millimeter. And signs of assault as well."
"So, you think we're dealing with a serial killer?" Castle asked quietly.
Beckett nodded, face grim. "That's exactly what I think, Castle."
Charlie woke up, naked and disoriented. Girls all around her were shuffling in embarrassment and anger to find their clothes and get out of there. And then, the shouts started coming.
"Cops!" People screamed. "Cops are here!"
Charlie put her bra, underwear, and skirt back on. She couldn't find her shirt, so she grabbed a wrinkly button-up from the floor and knotted it at her waist. She put her socks on and was lacing her boots when the second round of shouts started.
"There's a girl dead! Shot dead!"
The thought of a girl being shot cleared Charlie's fuzzy brain instantly. Her brain went flooding back to her mom, lying cold on the stairs, and Brian, the man she was sure was responsible. Then she thought of Aggie, dead on the floor of the soup kitchen. She ran out of the room and followed the trail of curious and scared teenagers.
"Alright, kids, stay back. There's nothing to see here." Officer Hastings was tasked with crowd control, an especially hard job when the crowd in question was a bunch of hungover teenagers.
She turned her back to the kids already behind the tape as soon as she heard the new wave start pounding down the stairs. "C'mon, people - behind the yellow tape. Stay if you must, but let us do our jobs."
Charlie was in the last part of the group, and she halted when she saw that it was Detective Beckett on this case. And then she saw the victim.
It couldn't be. She went home - they said she went home. And yet, there it was; the familiar reddish-brown curls, the green and blue loops of the dress she'd had on last night, the glint of the garnet ring she wore on her middle left finger.
"Lucy? LUCY!"
Beckett and Castle both turned at the anguished cries. Beckett's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she whispered, more to herself than anyone on her team.
She saw her own life flash before her eyes. Her, a wise-for-her-years nineteen-year old, clutching her dad's hand as they walked into their apartment to discover a strange man sitting on the couch. Detective Raglan telling them what happened to her, and her running into her room and throwing the biggest tantrum she'd ever thrown. When she got angry, she had to be physical. It had always been in her nature. Staring at her mother's mangled body, cold in an alleyway. The pictures were in her house, her sanctuary. Something that gruesome and tragic, one can never fully step away from.
But this girl...this fourteen-year old girl, who lived in a homeless shelter; whose two best friends were killed. She shouldn't have to deal with that publicly. So Beckett made a split-second decision.
"Hastings, get them outta here!" The cop who felt rather indebted to Beckett immediately complied, herding the horde of teenagers out of the building. As she went to grab Charlie, Beckett yelled, "No!"
"Detective Beckett?" Amy questioned.
"Leave her here. We need to talk to her." Amy nodded and let her alone.
Charlie was muttering to herself. "Lucy, no, not you too. Lucy..."
"Charlie? I'm Kate Beckett, do you remember me? We met yesterday."
Charlie blinked up at her, dark eyes still bleary with drugs and sleep. "Kate," she whispered softly.
"What were you both doing here last night?" Beckett asked.
"There was a p-party," Charlie began, stumbling slightly over her words. "I got...roofied?" She tilted her head in question, as if she didn't know the answer. "They said...they said she went home. They told me she went home!"
Beckett reached out instinctively and put her hands on Charlie's shoulders. Castle watched on curiously, smiling slightly at Beckett's actions. "I need you to calm down, okay? Can you do that for me?"
Charlie stared up at Beckett and took a deep breath. Beckett examined her bloodshot eyes and general incoherence.
"Let's go down to the station, okay? We'll get you some food and water, and we can talk about what you remember from last night."
Charlie nodded slowly, and Beckett smiled in response.
"Let's go, then." Beckett kept a hand between Charlie's shoulder blades, pushing her forward as she turned back to beckon Castle.
"You'll call us when you know something?" Lanie nodded at Castle's question and he waved at her as he scrambled after Beckett.
When they got back to the station, Beckett and Castle shared an awkward glance as they rode up.
Castle decided to break the tension. "Charlie, what can I get you for breakfast? I'm gonna make a coffee run."
"N-nothing, I'm fine," she said.
"C'mon," Beckett said with a laugh, "we gotta feed you, or the DA will indict me on cruelty to a witness."
"Then anything, I guess. But I'm allergic to almonds," she added, as an afterthought.
"No almonds. Got it. Beckett, you want your usual?"
"Yeah, thanks." She smiled slightly at him as they got off the elevator and he pressed the down button again.
"We're just gonna go into this room on the right, okay?" Beckett pointed, straight ahead. Charlie nodded and followed behind her and onto the couch. "Do you want some water or anything to drink?"
"Water, please," Charlie asked shyly.
"I'll be right back." Beckett smiled, trying to soothe the girl's nerves.
She let out a slow sigh as she stepped into the break room. Normally, she tried not to get close to witnesses, and generally was successful in keeping emotional distance. But with kids, and girls especially, she had an eternal soft spot. And Charlie reminded her so much of herself that she couldn't help but want to make her feel a little bit better.
She reached into the cabinet to grab a glass.
"Yo, Beckett! Who's the girl in the conference room?"
Beckett nearly dropped the cup on the floor. "Jesus, Karpowski!"
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," she apologized with a chuckle.
"It's fine," Beckett shook it off distractedly as she fully turned to face the other detective. "Um, she's just a witness for my new case."
"The volunteer?"
Beckett sighed. "No, we got a new one. Same MO, related victim."
Karpowski blew out a breath. "Man, that's rough. Serial?"
"Yeah, we think so. Anyway, is something wrong?"
Karpowski shook her head. "Nah, just wondering. We don't get kids in here that often."
Beckett nodded. "Yeah. Castle went to go get us some breakfast. She's been through a lot in the past couple days."
"Well, I gotta get back to paperwork. Good talking to you," Karpowski said awkwardly. Beckett nodded her goodbye. She and Karpowski made pleasantries, and Beckett liked her, but had never really made the effort to get to know her, and now felt like it was too late.
She looked through the window into the conference room. Charlie sat, playing with the ties of her shirt. Beckett couldn't shake a feeling of familiarity with her, like Castle was right and they had met before. And she wanted to protect this girl; keep her safe. She just hoped it wasn't too little, too late.
Charlie went to her room that night, exhausted. She'd spent the day at the precinct fielding questions about Lucy and Aggie, and then she hadn't had the energy or will to leave. Detective Beckett, by some miracle, had allowed her to stay, and she'd watched them call around and hunt for clues.
She felt bad, really, because she couldn't tell them the whole truth or her theories. It was just too dangerous.
As she stepped into the tiny room that she and Lucy had shared, she remembered just how dangerous. Lucy had gotten close to her, and look what had happened; to Aggie, too. Her nose stung as she looked around at all of Lucy's things - the rag blanket she'd made, the cheap-y instant pictures they'd taken, the small tub of clothes she'd collected. Charlie reached into the container and pulled out the first shirt she found.
She remembered when Lucy got it - they'd decided to go 'shopping' at the Salvation Army next door.
"Oh my gosh, Charlie, come over here!" Lucy was cracking up, and Charlie couldn't help but smile in response.
"What, Luce?"
"Who would ever wear a shirt like this?"
The tee was a black v-neck, but had this red glittery lip graphic with sharp, pointy, white teeth, and a caption that said 'BITE ME'.
"Maybe it's ironic?" Charlie giggled.
"I have to get it!"
At first, they refused to sell it, because it was 'crude' (and had a vampire connotation), but when Lucy offered to buy a bible and a rosary - and convinced the clerk that it would be easier for her to take it off their hands than to dispose of - her offer was accepted.
Charlie's grin faded with the memory. She lifted the shirt up to her nose. There was the citrus-y detergent she used, the lavender of her lotion, and something else. Home.
Charlie took off her boots and jacket and curled up in bed with the t-shirt. She pulled Norman out of her bag and clutched him under her right arm. Her eyes burned, but they wouldn't close. She just stayed supine on her small bed, staring at the wall, all night.
Aside from Aggie and Lucy's funerals, she'd spent all week at the precinct. She'd found a black dress in the bottom of Lucy's box. Otherwise, she just wore her normal outfit of jeans, boots, and jacket, but with Lucy's t-shirt instead of her own.
The team of detectives still had no solid leads, and though Charlie knew she was doing the right thing, she felt guilty about letting them run in circles. But she made up for it in her own way, doing what she could to help out.
As she made Beckett coffee on Friday afternoon, she began to sing softly to herself, without even realizing she was doing it.
"Drink to the foam! Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!"
"Navy girl, are you?" Charlie started so bad, she nearly tipped over the mug she'd been making for Beckett.
"Detective Esposito!"
He laughed, and she glared at him. "Sorry, Charlie. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," she said, hand still on her hip. "Anyway, not me, but my grandpa was a Navy man. He used to sing me that all the time."
"I'm Army, by the way," he said.
"Ah, those caissons," Charlie said with a grin.
"You know all the songs?"
"Just Army, Navy, and Marines," she answered. "My uncle was a Marine, and my dad was in the army."
Esposito looked impressed. "Cool."
But he smiled at her, almost fondly, and she knew she'd found a friend.
"Alright, guys," Castle said loudly as Charlie brought over the coffee. "I'm heading up to the Hamptons for the weekend. Alexis has some big girl plans with Meredith, and I do not want to be around when that hurricane hits.
"Who's Meredith?" Charlie asked Beckett quietly.
"His ex-wife, and his daughter's mom." Beckett looked up and smiled at Castle. "Have a good time, Castle."
"Have a good weekend, Beckett," he said sincerely. A shadow passed across her face for a split-second.
"You too, Castle."
Charlie stood, suddenly feeling exhausted. "You know, I think I'll go too. See you Monday? If you want."
Beckett looked slightly confused for a second, and then smiled. "We'll still be here."
"Great," Charlie said. "See you then."
"Bye, Charlie."
"Bye, everybody!"
"And then there were three," Ryan said under his breath.
Beckett watched Charlie and Castle leave, feeling a heavy weight fall on her shoulders. She rolled her eyes at herself in confusion - why was Charlie affecting her so much? She didn't understand, but she had bigger things to worry about, like this weekend.
"I think I'm gonna go soon, too. We're not really doing anything anyway. You two should go."
"Whatever you say, boss," Ryan teased.
"See you Monday?" Beckett asked absentmindedly.
"See you Monday, Beckett," Espo said, as he and Ryan packed up. She nodded and grabbed her bag as she walked towards the elevator.
"Everybody's crazy, apparently," Ryan muttered.
"Tell me about it, bro."
"Oh, Espo," Ryan said suddenly.
"Yeah, dude?"
"Still no Charlotte Harris on the Missing Persons list?"
"Either no one knows she's gone, or she's not who she says she is."