Okay, look, this might need some explaining.
So I have like, quite a bit of this written, but not all of it is quite ready to be published.
However, I'm gonna start anyway because you guys- you few, precious darlings who actually care about what I type- are awesome!
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So basically, what's happening here is Magnus, Alec, and the gang are all humans, ordinary people, etc.
An attempted murder happens- on Alec- and the cops have got all the wrong suspects. (Sort of.)
Beckett and Co. are investigating, and they keep turning corners only to find another weird turn.
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Another note: I cannot write Beckett. I'm sorry. I'm trying, but she always comes off as either super emotional or a bitch, so expect her to be a bit OOC because I'm not good at author-ing.
If you see any continuity/spelling/grammar/etc. errors feel free to tell me, I'm sure they're in there.
If anything is super confusing (I'm sure it is, tbh, I suck) feel free to ask, really! :)
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DISCLAIMER: These things you read... They are not mine. The words are mine, and yet, the people within them, and the stories within the people, and the place the people are within, are not.
"Let's waste time...
Chasing cars,
Around our heads
I need your grace,
To remind me
To find my own."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"Stay for one more drink?" Magnus asked coyly, turning and offering the cocktail with a smile. Alec gave him a lopsided grin, taking the glass.
"I suppose," he said, taking a sip. Immediately he spat it back into the cup. "W-what is this?" he coughed.
Magnus looked down at his glass, frowning. "Too much vodka. Oops."
Alec huffed out a laugh, setting down the glass. "Why do you have vodka? This is the office. You shouldn't even have alcohol here."
Alec was at ease. Right now, he was quicker to smile, movements loose, shoulders not hunched and tense. It was rare, but then, right now they were alone, the glass windows of the office only showing the night, faintly lit up buildings to the side and cars racing far below. The office was dark and empty, save for them, and it had a quiet and peaceful atmosphere. Comfortable, almost.
Magnus shrugged, flourishing a hand as if to say What can you do? He took a sip of his own glass, choking a bit. "Wow," he said in a rather strained voice. "That is too much." He cleared his throat.
Setting it down, he walked over to Alec, still smiling. "Oh, well, there are better things to taste."
Alec laughed. "That's the best line you've got?"
"You know you love it."
"I do," Alec conceded, leaning in to kiss him. Magnus gladly reciprocated, Alec's arms curling around his waist, when-
Magnus opened his eyes, ever so slightly, only for something to catch his eye. A movement at the corner of his eye. His eyes flew open.
A shadowy figure with a shiny object in his hand, aimed right at them-
Gunman.
They broke apart suddenly, Alec dazed and confused as Magnus gave a shout, pushing him back just as the shot rang out. It barely grazed Magnus's leg, sending white-hot pain shooting up his leg. There was a loud bang, the glass shattering, the wind suddenly almost deafening. "Alec!" he shouted.
There was another shot. The gunman was getting eerily closer to Alec.
Alec was across the room, taking shelter behind a desk, Magnus powerless to do anything but watch from where he had fallen. A shadowy figure moved right there- Magnus tried to warn him, but a shot went off directly above Alec, right up close, sending a partially broken vase- a heavy partially broken vase- crashing down on Alec's head. The shots stopped as he crumpled to the ground. Uncaring of the possible consequences, Magnus ran out into the open, still limping from where the first bullet had grazed him. No more shots came as he rushed to his boyfriend's side. Distantly, he heard footsteps running away. He cradled his boyfriend in his arms, blood seeping through his fingers where they were woven through Alec's hair. "Alec. Alexander. Wake up. C'mon, wake up! Please, wake up... Please, I love you, wake up..."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"Just try one!" Martha called, flourishing the spoon still covered in pancake batter. Castle looked down at the plate of so-called pancakes with dread. About half of them were crispy and burnt, the other half raw, runny, and lopsided. His mother could cook many things, but pancakes was not one of them.
"Mother, I'd rather not die at such a young age," he said, opening the fridge in search of edible food. He found nothing- literally. The fridge was completely empty.
Martha grinned evilly. "You'll be trying my cooking for once, young man." she declared, pushing a plate of soggy, uneven pancakes towards him. He blanched.
"Good morning, dad," Alexis said gloomily as she trudged into the kitchen.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong," Castle said immediately, abandoning the sagged pancake he'd been picking at with his fork.
"It's nothing," she said, taking the plate that Martha eagerly pushed towards her without even looking at it.
"C'mon," he grinned, "Don't try that on me. You just took my mother's pancakes without complaint, something's definitely wrong."
Alexis sighed. "There's this girl in my class, Maria. She hates me."
"Aw, I'm sure she doesn't hate you," the writer said. "It's probably just teenage angst. Hormones. It's probably got nothing to do with you."
"But what if it does?"Alexis stressed. "What did I do? Why does she hate me so much? As far as I know, I haven't done anything to her!"
"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," Castle said.
"Maybe she's jealous," interjected Martha. "Of all your good grades and fabulous good looks."
Alexis rolled her eyes, allowing a small smile on her lips.
"Maybe," she said, clearly unconvinced.
Castle's phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, lighting up.
"We've got a case!" he said cheerfully.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"Oh- oh my god."
"Sir, what is your emergency?"
"I just found my- my co-worker, he fell and hit his head. He's, uh, he's been shot at, and he's- he's breathing but his pulse is weak and he won't wake up!"
"What is your address, sir?"
"The Lightwood Institute, 26th floor. It's on Angel Street, I- just, please, hurry."
"Sir, I'm going to need you to give me a na- Sir, please, stay on the line-"
[line cuts off]
"That's a 9-1-1 call we received from a desk phone in Alec Lightwood's office yesterday night at around 10:30." Detective Kate Beckett announced, turning to her team. Castle was currently pelting Esposito with rolled up paper wads, Ryan cackling in the background. Beckett sighed. Children, she thought. I work with children.
She rapped her knuckles on the desk, startling Castle and making the next wad go wildly off aim and hit her directly in the face. They all went dead silent. She exhaled deeply. "Do I need to play it again?" she asked. They shook their heads.
"Alexander Lightwood is our victim," she continued, putting up a picture on the board. It showed a solemn teenager with dark hair and hazel eyes. "He's currently in a coma. He's recovering, but he could wake up anytime- from years to days. He was shot at four times before one shot knocked over a vase and knocked him out. None of the bullets hit him, possibly thanks to our mystery caller."
"Uh, Beckett, just wondering, but... We're homicide detectives. So where's the body?" piped up Esposito.
"The Lightwoods are an extremely rich family- one who support the mayor's campaign," Beckett replied. "Election's coming up, and a shooter on such a high-profile family? He probably want this over and done with as soon as possible."
"He wants the best," Castle added proudly. "Which is us."
"Alright, so have we I.D'd the mystery caller?" Ryan asked.
"No," she sighed. "All we know is that he works at the Lightwood Institute, and he's male. And even that's not concrete. We've got some work ahead of us."
While they weren't looking, she scooped the paper wad from the floor and tossed it with deadly aim. It bopped Castle soundly on the forehead.
She was satisfied.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"So who's she?" Castle asked, nodding at the one-way window. On the other side in the interrogation room, an irritated young woman sat alone. She had long dark hair, her lipstick and eye-shadow were on-point and she was very pretty. She wore tight clothes and a tight frown.
"Isabelle Lightwood. Vic's sister." Ryan said.
"She's hot," Esposito commented.
"Dude, she's like, twenty," Ryan answered, not taking his eyes away from the window as Beckett entered the interrogation room.
"I know," Esposito said hastily. "It was just an observation!"
Ryan rolled his eyes.
Castle turned to look at the interrogation about to begin.
.
"This is just routine," Beckett reassured, easily slipping into the chair across from Isabelle.
"Sure," Isabelle said. "Please tell me what the hell is going on."
"Your brother was attacked."
"I know that!" she hissed. "What. The. Hell. Happened."
Beckett hesitated.
"I can handle the truth," Isabelle said tightly. "I'm big girl, detective."
"Someone made a call to 9-1-1 and when paramedics arrived on the scene, they found your brother unconscious, the walls riddled with bullet holes. Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your brother?"
Isabelle looked troubled. "Not really, no. Alec's a quiet guy. He's great, but he keeps to himself."
"Y'know, I was an only child, but I always wanted an older brother. I had a friend who had an older brother, and he always protected her and teased her," Beckett said empathetically.
Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid. You're trying to connect with me, or whatever. Look, save the psychology bullshit. Alec is the best big brother I could ever ask for. He's always protected me. When Meliorn cheated on me, he helped me through it. And when he came back to my apartment, Alec punched him in the face. He'd defend anyone in trouble, though, not just me. So whoever did this to him, and whyever they did, it wasn't because he deserved it, I can tell you that much."
Beckett sighed. "Are you sure there's no one who might have a grudge against him? Exes? Enemies?"
Isabelle snorted. "Please. The closest thing Alec he has to an enemy is-" she cut herself off, swallowing.
That caught Beckett's attention. "What?"
"Look, it's isn't like that. I shouldn't have said anything." Isabelle backtracked.
"Miss Lightwood, if you don't tell me what you know, we may never find out who did this to your brother." Beckett said lowly.
Isabelle gave in reluctantly. "Their feud is all talk," Isabelle stated, feeling appalled that she'd said anything at all.
"What feud?" Beckett demanded.
Isabelle sighed. "There's a guy in the office, Magnus Bane. Him and Alec have this weird... hatred thing. Not like playful banter, either, they full-on fight. They've hated each other ever since Magnus was hired, five years ago. But it's only ever once gotten physical, and that wasn't even Magnus's fault. I think Alec even apologized, he felt really bad."
Beckett and Castle exchanged a Look through the glass.
("How do they do that?" Esposito hissed to Ryan. He only shrugged in response.)
"They still hate each other, though. They can't stand even being in the same room without making mean, snarky comments. It's actually really unlike Alec, but... They've always been like that. But Magnus would never do this anyway, he wouldn't hurt a fly. I didn't want to say anything because I knew you'd suspect him."
"Don't worry," Beckett said, standing. "We'll find who did this."
"You'd better," Isabelle shot back. "Are you going to interrogate all of us?"
"Probably," Beckett replied. "You've been very helpful."
She walked to the door, pausing, before turning back and saying, "I love your heels, by the way."
Isabelle grinned. "Thank you," she said.
Beckett smiled back before closing the door.
Yeah, I know, it sucked!
Beckett is super OOC I'm sorry I just can't write her. She's so fucking awesome and I can't ever express that properly!
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Other than that, not bad for a first chapter, eh?