Author's Note: I claim no rights to the characters so wonderfully created by Andrew Marlow. Kudos to BeckettNYPD -a great beta reader who saves you guys from so many confusing and incomplete thoughts.
Closing dialog spoken by Beckett to Lockwood in prison: "Who hired you?" (long pause) "I put a lot of people in this place. Some of them want to kill me. Others never been treated so fairly in their lives, so they form this attachment to me. It's like I'm their favorite schoolteacher. Some of those people might visit you while you're in here like the ghosts that visit Scrooge. After some time with them you might find yourself a changed man, so I will be back here week after week to ask you who hired you until that miracle occurs."
The Schoolteacher
Detective Beckett wanted to remind herself. She went to the file storage building and pulled up the case of Brandon Wolford. She looked at the crime scene photos and studied the bloody aftermath. The body of the 21 year old was pinned between the back of the jeep and the front of the silver pickup truck. The hood of the Chevy half ton offered up Brandon's body as if it were on a silver platter.
She recalled the unfortunate details of the tragedy. The young man had just cleaned up his life after a wild, youthful period of drug use. He worked at a car wash and was proud to have any job. He didn't have a driver's license so his friend took him shopping with his first paycheck to get a new pair of jeans and a package of t shirts to wear at work.
His friend's jeep was old, the engine burned through oil at too fast a pace to be reliable transportation but it was all the valet could afford. The tires were also bald, but he never drove the vehicle in the rain or snow. A flat tire on a Friday evening was not a surprise. The two buddies pulled off the road and the driver got ready to jack up the right rear passenger's side of the vehicle. Brandon went to work pulling the spare from the back of the jeep.
He had just gotten the spare removed when the pickup slammed into his body pinning him between the vehicles. Death was not instantaneous. Brandon lingered in agony for a few minutes, regretting the youth he had wasted being wasted. He wondered how fitting it was to die this way since the other driver was obviously drunk. Brandon's only comfort was that he was not alone as he drew his last breath on earth. Detective Beckett recalled these details even though it wasn't her case.
The driver of the pickup truck was a repeat offender, so the first offense resulted in counseling. The second offense was plea bargained so it didn't count when this, the third time, came around. The court cut the driver a break allowing him to plead down. 4 years is all he was sentenced for killing Brandon. He would be out on parole in 2 years.
Brandon's father, Don Wolford, didn't agree. He lost his only son and decided it was a fair trade to spend his retirement years behind bars. He shot the SOB in cold blood. As a final twist, he made sure he was drinking at the time of the shooting.
The investigating detective was sympathetic as she arrested Wolford. She could have been a hard ass about the case and written it up as premeditated, but identifying with the original victim, she saw the signs of a father that snapped. It got Don Wolford his own plea deal that kept him off death row. When the investigating detective came to see him, it happened to be the 5th anniversary of Brandon's death.
Detective Beckett sized Don up. Despite being a convict in his 60's, he had adjusted well. His incidents while incarcerated were few and he stayed out of the gangs. She felt guilty about all of this, but she also knew what she had to do.
Mindful that conversations could be overheard, both spoke in riddles.
Wolford spoke first, "I am the president of your unofficial prison fan club for Nikki Heat. Your visit is an unexpected surprise."
The man had beautiful blue eyes like another champion she knew. "Aren't the Heat books dangerous since they feature a cop?" She questioned more than the sentence verbalized.
"Anything to do with hot chicks gets a pass." He smiled at her concern. "Cons have so much time we are thrilled to have a distraction and something to do. I'd do anything for you."
She nodded at his acceptance of her hidden request. "Since I know you are looking for new members of the fan club, I need to warn you to stay away from Hal Lockwood. He is highly trained and lethal, and not the kind of guy who is a fan of mine." Beckett revealed as much as she dared. "I'm playing a game of poker with him."
Wolford's eyes showed surprise. "Maybe we can play Go Fish with him. Your fans are creative and thoughtful. A few games and we can win him over for you."
"I hate the thought of you being anywhere near him, but I'd be grateful for any info you can share with me without being a snitch."
"How much do you want?" the con asked.
"As much as possible without crossing that final line." She said it with regret, but showed she meant it.
Don read her conflicting emotions. "Remind the writer that Nikki Heat lives in the real world where sometimes you have to fight fire with fire."
Several hours later there was an incident at the prison. Hal Lockwood was doused with flammable liquid and a match sparked his flesh to burn. The flames were not extensive and were quickly extinguished. His ankles and one leg got first and second degree burns, so it wasn't life threatening.
No surveillance camera caught the arsonist in the act. The most likely suspect was a religious zealot named Phil Troutwine. He was incarcerated for setting a fire when a homeless man burned to death. The arresting officer was Detective Beckett. Phil called her Saint Katherine.
A guard at the prison called Beckett. They had been in the academy together, and he was still a little sweet on her. Corrections Officer Steve House left a message for her. "Hi Kate. The John Doe you sent us is in the infirmary. I'll keep an eye on him in case it has something to do with getting drugs. If anything comes up, I'll let you know."
Beckett sighed. The lessons had begun.
Down the Rabbit Hole...
"Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth." Alice's Adventures in Wonderland -Lewis Carroll
Castle had a few remaining anxieties with Beckett after his impromptu cover moment. He came armed with a bear claw and coffee. Beckett's warm smile put him at ease. She readily drank her coffee as she plowed through the paperwork. By lunchtime Castle was puzzled by Beckett's actions. She wasn't eating her favorite pastry even though her stomach growled loud enough for Castle to hear it.
"Why don't we take a break for lunch?"
"Go ahead, Castle. I really want to get through this pile."
"What can I bring you?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
When Castle didn't reply and he stared her down, she tried to placate him. "I guess I am really focused today. Why don't you go grab something? It would be a shame to waste this delicious treat from this morning, so I will nibble on it." She paused, bit her lip and pretended to beg, "A special cup of coffee might be nice."
Of course Castle melted immediately. He left to fulfill her wish and grab a hot dog for himself. He also decided to make sure the undercover kiss wasn't bothering her. "Here is a fresh brew."
"Thanks, Castle."
"Coffee is the only thing I know I get right. My case theories are usually too wild to be anything but humorous and my dumb ideas might be seen as self serving." He paused for a moment and whispered "Sorry."
Beckett suddenly realized she had never resolved their intimate moment before the gun battle. "Hey partner, all's well that ends well." She smiled to reassure him.
Castle acknowledged her assessment and hoped that whatever might be bothering Kate would disappear.
The female detective went back to the prison a week later. She watched John Doe/Hal Lockwood shuffle in still bandaged from his burns. She noted how the ankle chains chaffed as he tried to walk without pain. She pointedly stared until he sat down. Finally she spoke the three words, "Who hired you?"
A stony silence and glare was the same as before.
Beckett matched his silence. She stood to leave. It was too early in the game to expect results. His body and her soul had a lot more torment to endure before they might one day talk.
Meanwhile she had some talking of her own to do. She went home to change for her speaking engagement. She called last week to volunteer to do a reading of Heat Wave at the veteran's hospital. She had been to one of Castle's public readings, so she had an idea how to pull it off. She spent a few nights practicing reading aloud with different voice inflections. She rehearsed a few different chapters allowing for flexibility depending on the situation she might encounter with the soldiers.
What she was not prepared for was Castle showing up at her door. "Are you ready to go? I assumed we could finalize any details on the way."
"What? Castle, no! How do you even know about this?" She was flustered and it showed.
"There is an intern at Black Pawn that monitors everything to do with my books. The VA hospital put a notice on their website in case any outpatients wanted to attend. According to the info I've got, attendance is expected to be around 40 people." He smiled at her discomfort.
"But you want to do it instead of me?" Her careful and private plans were upset.
"No, I would never try to preempt any appearance you chose to make. I assumed this was your first public reading and we could do it together or tag-team."
"Castle, I am not reading a sex scene with you in front of an audience. Nice try."
He smirked, "Would you read it with me privately?" He covered his ears expecting to get hurt with her death grip, she never moved or even smiled. He got serious, "Ok, the idea wasn't as self-serving as it sounds. Research has shown endorphins have healing properties, and these guys need healing. I really admire what you're doing."
Beckett's agitation returned. "It's my commitment. You don't need to help."
"I want to help. You're in charge. Let's get going and we can talk on the way. I hired a driver because I brought some promo give-always to hand out after we're done. Bottled water and mints are ready, and I also brought the highlighted pair of Heat Wave books."
His muse was confused, so he explained. "Each book has alternating passages highlighted so you know which your part is. When the highlighted text ends, you stop reading. I use those copies when I pull a fan out of the audience to read with me. It is a gimmick sure to garner lots of laughs."
Beckett felt swept along in the wake of the author, but she relented. During the short drive they agreed on a plan that Beckett felt good about. They arrived to find an audience twice as large and twice as enthusiastic as expected. Despite the obvious battle scars, missing limbs and disfigurement, the banter and humor was similar to the precinct.
Rook and Heat introduced one another, with Heat getting louder whoops and whistles from the mostly male audience. It made sense that clapping was not done by anyone in the group in deference to those missing arms and hands. Rook played up his leering and egged on the guys. It was a distraction for him from the smell of wounded flesh and antiseptic. It was a distraction for them from the pain of what they endured and trauma of making a new life.
The duo took turns reading passages at various points in the book and giving summaries to fast forward the action. They biased the story more towards Pochenko and the action scenes and less about Noah Paxton and the art theft. It made the final scene with Rook as a hostage spell binding as Castle wrapped up the story.
Beckett had all the men around her after they finished. She posed for pictures with the guys and gave out a few kisses. He watched her, ever content to do so, until the PR lady came up to him."Thank you for your surprise visit. Famous people coming by remind the soldiers that we think they are important. The two of you are priceless." The older woman was honest in her praise.
"It was Detective Beckett's idea. She has a capacity to amaze and humble me."
"You did something great I wanted to mention. When you were reading the bubble bath scene and she stood up and twirled around to rile up the guys, you acted all protective of her. A beautiful woman flirting with the guys and being considered a threat by a man makes them feel whole, not a thing of sympathy that needs pitied."
Castle nodded, unwilling to say anything.
The VA staffer appraised him not with ease, but with years of endless experience. "I noticed you two belong to the club. You both have a haunted look in your eyes you keep carefully hidden until the same is mirrored by another walking wounded soul." She gently squeezed his arm and left to help ferry patients back to their rooms.
The next time Castle came by Beckett's apartment, she wasn't home or so she pretended. It was a reflex to protect him even if it was from her. At work she solved her cases and bantered with the guys as if nothing happened.
The team, that's how Esposito and Ryan, Beckett and Castle, thought of themselves since the Raglan murder, went to the Haunt for drinks. They joked and drank, letting the weight of the job fall away. Everything was just like old times. Almost.
One tiny fact worried Castle. There was something about the beauty known as Beckett that wasn't quite right. He might have dismissed his concern except for an anomaly. She allowed herself only one drink an evening. Lanie once boasted that Beckett could hold her liquor, so whatever she was feeling was so strong it threatened to swallow her if she didn't guard against it. Castle hated mysteries when it came to Beckett.
The next week a convicted rapist accused Hal Lockwood of being a pedophile. He gave enough graphic details that the convicts nearest him made him shut up. Every con in the place looked at Lockwood with revulsion. He knew his denial would be worthless, so Lockwood waited for the beating.
Lockwood's only goal was to stay alive and show some skills that might prove his usefulness to a gang. A short time later he was out in the exercise yard. He kept moving and sizing up the players in his new home. The attack shocked him with the speed of the onslaught. The odds were 5 to 1. Lockwood took out 2 guys before he went down and the guards finally stopped it. That demonstration cost him a week in the infirmary. He got a reprieve from his forced visitation with his female tormentor.
Two weeks later Beckett walked in for her private inquisition. She noted every black and blue mark visible. Unfortunately his strength was still evident. She reminded herself the end game wouldn't happen without committing to the long haul. She spoke the three words, "Who hired you?"
His stony silence was the same. He gave no tells of weakness. Beckett matched his countenance and left.
She drove away grateful for the time to transition from avenger to detective. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the hired car parked a discreet distance away.
Richard Castle got out and went into the prison. He asked questions about the visitation rules and wondered what Beckett was doing. The deep seated burden was still haunting her. Now he had an idea as to why. This confirmed it was something to do with her mother's murder. She was falling down the rabbit hole and Castle promised he would always have her back. He returned to the car and to the city, but he made plans to return during public visitation.
The next day Castle invited the crew out, "Anyone want to grab a burger with me?" The guys declined immediately so Beckett was left to deal with the man obviously hoping he wasn't about to be abandoned.
"Sorry Castle, but I'm just too tired." The dark circles under her eyes were hidden by makeup. Obviously she spoke the truth.
He accepted it with good grace, but tried to guilt her for a rain check. "Tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow is the only clear day this week. I've got to get my 5 mile run in for the week. You can come with me." She offered.
Rather than being a jab, Beckett was sincere. Castle jogged on a treadmill, but both knew she trained as hard as an athlete. "No way I am going to show up in my jogging outfit and get made fun of. I'll take a rain check on dinner." He began to feel the distance from Kate. This was never going to get better by giving her some space.
Steve the guard called detective Beckett a few days later. "Ah, there is another incident with the inmate you're watching. He's back in the infirmary."
Beckett fished before she asked for the details. "How unusual is it for an inmate to have this many run-ins during his first weeks of incarceration?"
"Not unusual. All of the first timers have adjustment issues. This guy seems like a hard ass that has pissed off the wrong people. It will take him some time to figure out who the power players are and how to make nice."
Beckett camouflaged. "OK. Good to know. He is a material witness to some higher up corruption, and I want him to stay alive."
Steve offered, "I can put the word out to the other guards to watch out for him"
Beckett backpedaled. "No, he is that last piece of trash I want to up your workload by watching out for him. I'm happy just getting the updates."
"This time he had a drug overdose. He'll recover, but I thought I'd save you a trip out here this week. I'll call you when he gets released back to general population."
"Thanks Steve. You're a great friend."
Detective Beckett didn't travel to the prison again for a month. Every week she called, but she was informed Lockwood wasn't released to general population.
Castle wanted to talk with Beckett. Anticipating the excuses she always used, he tried to increase his chances for success. "Do you want your usual cup of coffee in the morning?"
The rhetorical question made Beckett suspicious. "What are you up to, Castle?"
"I thought we could meet at the diner around the corner for breakfast. I'll have your coffee waiting for you." Castle looked hopeful at spending any possible time with her outside of work.
"I was planning on working out with the bags in the morning." She shrugged to apologize.
"Ok. Breakfast to go. What time would you like your bag holder to report for duty?" He was going to play by whatever rules she setup.
"I work out from 5:30 to 6:30. You're not going to give up your beauty rest to be my bag boy." She smiled at him.
His voice was low. "Don't underestimate my motivations, detective. I understand it is a sneaky way for men to get in your good graces while they get to watch you get all hot and sweaty."
Her eyes widened by the not so veiled reference to Demming.
Castle's trip to the prison occurred during regular visitation. He had never before experienced the indignities the public endured when they were not accompanied by a NYPD detective. He told himself it was good research. He dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, went unshaven and let his perfect hair look a little wilder. The smell of a men's prison was something Castle hoped he could wash off as soon as he got home.
He met with Joe Pulgatti who was surprised to see him without Beckett. "If anyone asks, I am doing research for the next book."
"Why me?" the former mobster asked.
"Because I don't know too many other inmates here who might tell me the truth."
"What's in it for me?"
"Entertaining conversation to brighten up a boring day?" Castle quipped.
"You really don't know your way around prison life. How about a deposit in my account so I can get some stuff from the commissary."
"Ah, ok. Is $50 enough?" the author inquired.
Joe laughed, "Yeah, for 50 bucks I won't even dick with you. What do you want to know?"
"Did Detective Beckett come see you 2 weeks ago?"
"Nope."
"Oh. Do you know who she saw?"
"Man, let me save us both some time. You don't know the right questions to ask, but I know what you want."
Castle nodded eagerly.
"Lockwood is getting regular beat downs by the book club."
"A book club in my world is usually a bunch of women who drink expensive coffee and debate Jane Austen."
"I don't know who Jane is, but in here the book club are all the guys Beckett has put behind bars. Some of the cons talk smack, but a bunch are crazy hooked on proving they are her favorite."
Oh!" Castle's mind put all the pieces into place. "So she shows up to keep the adoring fans motivated?"
"Hell no. That would cost her. Word is she checks on Lockwood. Puts all this attention on the scumbag and it drives the club nuts."
Castle's surprise at the tactic was evident. He nodded at the brilliancy of the play, and knew the source of consternation he saw in Beckett's eyes. "How can these guys take on a pro like that?"
Joe continued Castle's education. "One guy using a pallet jack moving linens pinned Lockwood against a wall. They pumped him full of drugs and quickly released him. Of course he OD'd. The bad ass is so new that toying with him has been fun for everyone to watch. The last gig they pulled on him was giving him a shiv that had super glue on the handle. Once he was setup they cut a guard, wiped the blade and dropped it by Lockwood. He was tuned up by the guards and got solitary confinement for that play.
"Hypothetically what else might happen to him?" Castle inquired.
"Let's pretend there is a guy who works in the serving line. He puts aside a special food that is laced or spoiled. Lockwood doesn't get sick right away or even ill enough to go the infirmary, but it happens often enough to make the ass clown a little weaker and slower to recover."
"Any signs of him breaking?"
"The shit hasn't even started that could make him give it up. They are just softening him up and playing with him. The nasty stuff will start in a month or two." Joe shrugged and looked away.
Castle could tell that subject was at an end. He shared his other reason for coming. "I know a couple of attorneys that I am going to call about your case."
"Why would you do that?" Joe was shocked.
"I'd like someone to finish what Johanna Beckett started. I do have one stipulation, though."
"Yeah, I figured there were strings attached."
Castle got up to leave. "Don't tell Detective Beckett I had anything to do with it."
It was time for Richard Castle to confront the situation. He delayed until now thinking it was a shift in the dynamic of their relationship that made him paranoid about Beckett's wellbeing. Now that he confirmed the likely source of all the tale-tell signs of Kate's struggle, he couldn't stand by without trying to help her.
Castle came by Beckett's apartment unannounced. It was a quiet evening and she had left the precinct hours earlier. The writer noted the dark windows when he pulled up, but he pushed ahead with his plan. He knocked and was surprised when she opened the door. Castle brought in 2 grocery sacks and stopped suddenly when he saw the dim lights and single candle burning. Suddenly this wasn't a good idea. "Sorry, I didn't stop to consider Josh might be here."
Kate quickly relieved his concern. "I'm alone. I was doing yoga." She watched for his reaction as she teased, "I pride myself on my flexibility."
His gasp was priceless, and his eyes roamed over her perfect body in the black yoga pants and tank top. He quickly distracted himself by carried the reusable bags to her kitchen to unpack the groceries.
She watched and wondered about the protein shakes and energy bars. He brought fresh fruit and bread. A few other items like vegetables and meat also got put away. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.
"I am creating an excuse to interact with you outside of work." He said with sincerity.
It caught Beckett off guard. "Why?"
"Because I'm losing you."
"I'm not pushing you away. Everything I've said I had to do is true." Beckett countered.
"Is it deliberate or are you unaware of what you're doing?" The question was asked without judgment.
"There is a reason for what I do." Kate said with a hint of defensiveness.
"I hope so. Usually I can annoy you sufficiently to talk about it then." He finished the domestic chore and went to stand before her. Departing from his arsenal of words, he silently interrogated her.
"Castle, have you counted the number of times you've had to save my ass without carrying a gun? Do you ever wonder at the stupidity of that arrangement and wonder why I don't hand over a backup weapon to you every time?"
"I guess it would make for extra paperwork, and I know how much you hate paperwork." His banter did little to lighten her mood, but at least she was opening up. She wasn't revealing the truth, but she wasn't pushing him away.
"It is simply that I can fatally shoot someone and be within the bounds of law, but you cannot."
"All that proves is we have different resources we bring to the partnership." He pushed her out of their comfort zone. "My specialty is watching you. Let me tell you about a new development with Nikki Heat. She won't eat and she's scared to drink. She pushes her body to physical exhaustion so it will collapse. That keeps most of the new breed of nightmares to a manageable terror because she can't sleep otherwise. Her torment is so great she seeks the company of other haunted souls with battle scars." Rick paused because his voice was ready to break.
She hated how he could see right through her, but she loved that he was the only one who could do it.
"What is bothering you, Kate?" He had to make her admit it if they were going to confront it.
She sighed knowing he wasn't going to leave it alone. Her voice whispered, "I used to be a by-the-book cop, but now the lines have blurred. I am becoming a monster." She walked away from him as if the physical distance was necessary.
Ludicrous was not a response that would be effective. "Tell me how this monster is manifesting?" He moved to stand close to her again.
"Lockwood is getting systematically beaten down; I am responsible and it is not legal." She looked at the flicker of the candle instead of Rick's face.
"Beckett, I had no idea you were omnipotent. You can make mere mortals do you bidding or stop them at your whim?"
She frowned at his sarcasm. "Now is not the time to be a wise ass."
"Kate, how is it that you look at the situation and see what you shouldn't do, and I look at it and see what you must do?" Her eyes betrayed her intrigue at his words.
"You are the only person in the world who can stop whoever is behind Lockwood. Your whole life has been forged for this battle. The universe contrived an army who want to fight a demon and you try to deny an advantage only you possess. You didn't tell these guys what to do, and I bet you couldn't make them stop."
"What would my mother think?" Her voice was soft belying the weight of the question.
He countered her greatest fear. "What do you think of a lawyer who would work to free a thug just for the sake of the truth?"
Her peace of mind showed by the drain of tension and her restored valor."
Castle continued, "I admire that you worry about the rightness of your actions even though you are in a horrific situation. You are truly extraordinary."
"No pressure with that label." She rolled her eyes at him, but she was looking at him.
"The scary label hasn't even been spoken aloud." As soon as he said it he regretted the seriousness he thrust back upon her.
She waited for his assessment.
"McCallister said you woke the dragon. That makes you the dragon slayer."
The falseness of the laughter matched the words, "You make it sound so grand and noble. The truth is the dragon slayer is afraid of falling down the rabbit hole and never coming back."
He grinned at her. "If you stay down the rabbit hole I will jump in with you. And you might suspect what happens when 2 rabbits share a hole together. Irresistible images come to mind of me being a playboy and you being a bunny." He paused to let his innuendo lighten her mood and remind her that her worst fear would never be as bleak as she imagined because Richard Castle was her partner, always.
The End
Author's note: This tale is darker than what I usually write, but it was based on some unfortunate events in real life. I was privy to a family who lost their son (Brandon) as described in the opening scene. The sentence for the drunk driver is also factual. The injustice of the short incarceration led to real discussions about how much additional punishment could be brought to bear while the drunk driver was behind bars. There were debates by good people who wrestled with the morality of vengeance, and it took a toll on a few souls. The closing dialog in Knockdown brought it all back, and I thought a few readers might appreciate an insight to Beckett's dilemma. Any thoughts?