To be titled…

A/N: (This is a Castle fan fiction! Obviously… Anyway it's going to be about my character, Elinor. You'll discover how everything falls into place! Don't worry, Castle and Beckett moments will come! But quotes might and will be from the series. I don't own Castle!!! ENJOY!!! Italics means a thought or a flashback.)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 15 years ago =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It's 2:13 in the morning. Police cars are racing down the highway to get to the Audigier household. A murder has just taken place and cops are racing to the scene. From the NYPD, detective Kate Beckett is on her way to investigate. Her two co-workers, Esposito and Ryan, are in a car behind her. They are also detectives who assist her and investigate her cases. Lanie, the coroner, is riding with Beckett. When they get to the crime scene, the family room is stained with blood. A mother and father lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling into the beige carpeting. They were shot assassination style and then through the chest. A baby, being 1 year old tomorrow, has a shot wound in her side. She had a full head of hair and it was a light strawberry blonde. No doubt it would darken over the years. Lanie went over to diagnose the parents while the paramedics cared for the child and rushed her to the hospital. Beckett looked around until Esposito called her over. It was a note. It was a note addressed to her personally. It read:

This isn't over…

- ''Malone''

Kate sighed and gave the note back. Esposito put it in as evidence and Beckett said that the child should be put into a foster home, away from the city. The case went on for seven years but the so-called "Malone" was never found. There were no fingerprints, hair, or any kind of intrusion found. It was a perfect crime. For the killer at least. The case was labeled as a cold case and Detective Kate Beckett had to go on to other cases. Soon Castle joined the team and everyone lightened up a bit. No one was as serious and best of all, they never got word of Malone. Until now….

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Present Day=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I slid through the window with ease as I headed towards the front; my backpack hanging from my back. It was heavy! I had my wallet, (which had $250 saved from my job; the old hag said I needed discipline, so I got a job.) 6 large water bottles, my notebook and pencils, and my Beatles CDs and mini CD player. The final thing I crammed in there was 8 cans of tuna and two small bowls (for my cat). I tied a lunch box to the front of my backpack which had an ice pack and 5 sandwiches (which were all cut in half). In the pockets, I shoved one wrap and two pins just in case I got hurt. After double-checking everything, I turned around, closed the window, and checked one more time to see if anyone might come through my door before I snuck off. After about one more minute of waiting, (witch seemed to last an eternity) I slid to the edge of the roof and dropped my backpack in a bush. Then I jumped down. My three years of gymnastics really helped with my landing. Without a sound, I crouched and crawled my way down the driveway, feeling grateful that shrubs could hide me. I was finally sneaking away; getting out of that hell hole called a foster home. Sure, it was big and nice and fancy and every kids dream and . . . Well, it was nice. At least the house was. The family? Not so much . . . The mother, Mrs. Drake, was as mean and nasty as the fungus that grew on her long-nailed, wart-covered, stinky feet. Trust me, I would know. She constantly made me rub wart ointment on her feet. Blech!

Ugh, when can I eat? I'm starving.

"Elinor! Bring me my tea tray with hot tea, some sugar and cream, and orange, and a biscuit! NOW!" the evil witch called. Maybe I could have a biscuit while I get hers… I hurried down to the lonely kitchen, passing all sorts of rooms on the way. The library is where I spent most of my time reading and understanding the world of mystery and murder. No, I'm not a psycho. I read books by Richard Castle. He's so cool! I love his ability to capture his characters emotions and implant them into his readers. I always cry at the end of every case. The mistress keeps a whole collection of his books like I do. That may be the one thing we have in common; our love of Richard Castle's many books. I've read and reread them all because it's all I can do around here. But whenever I have to go out and do the shopping, people will look at me and say:

"There goes that filthy little brat living with the mistress! What a disgrace!" they would spit. Some would snicker at me while I passed them or point fingers and whisper about me. Things that I can imagine are not very nice. I- -

"ELINOR!!! HURRY UP!!!" she called. The tea whistled loudly, making me jump. I turned to the stove and switched it off. All I needed now was her cup and tea pot. I had already laid out the orange and biscuit on separate plates, and then placed them on the tray.

"Where is that darn pot?" I muttered to my self. I turned to look down because I heard a soft mewling below me. Castle, my cat that I brought in from the cold last winter, sat by my foot, teapot in his small mouth. Yeah, so his name is Castle. I like it.

"Thanks, boy," I whispered, taking the pot from his mouth. He was a very smart cat, at least, the smartest I've ever seen. I quickly poured the tea into the pot, set the cup and saucer on the tray next to it and practically jogged to the mistress' room. I climbed the two flights of stairs and walked quickly down the hallway. I passed Meredith's room and then Scott's. Meredith was eight years old and Scott was my age; the age of sixteen. Actually my birthday is tomorrow and his was a couple weeks ago, so he's about a month older than me. Meredith was always telling me to do her homework and making me clean her room. I was punished if I didn't help her.

I knocked on the huge wooden doors that lead to her room. They were about twice my height (I'm 5'6''). Each one was bordered with old, Persian designs. There were old colorful paintings with blues and pinks and gold. I quit gawking and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" the voice called. I opened the door and stepped inside to see the fat women sitting at her dressing table, her mask on, already dry and cracking.

"Good evening M'lady" I said in a monotone. I could really care less for her…

"Oh, shut up and serve me my tea," she said ordered.

"Yes, M'lady," I replied, still keeping the monotone voice. I hurried and got everything ready. I poured the tea, put one and a half teaspoons of sugar and a shot glass worth of cream. After handing the cup to her, I took the knife I had brought with and peeled the orange. Finally, I cut the biscuit in half and left it on the plate on the tray, which now lay on her dresser.

"Is that all M'lady?" I asked reluctantly. I prayed and repeated to myself that she would say ANYTHING meaning no. A, "Be gone you filthy child," or, "Out of my sight! Immediately!" Those prayers weren't answered…

"Yes, go fetch my foot ointment from the bathroom. You know what to do," she snickered. I turned to the bathroom and when I was sure she could not see me, I made a disgusted face and gagged at the thought of what I was about to do for the third time this week.

I walked back into the room to see that Mrs. Drake had wobbled her way to her bed and had her feet hanging off the end. I sighed and walked over to her, cursing her name in my head.

"Proceed," she said in a royal type tone. I cringed and gagged internally as I slid off her stinky, sweaty, no-so furry-any-more slippers. Her feet were the same except for the furry part. I squeezed a quarter sized drop of ointment on my left hand, set the tube down, and (regretfully) began.

UGH! This was always SO disgusting! It's like it pleasures her! Every 30 seconds she'd groan or moan, "Ohhhhh, yes." Ew, that's…just gross.

That's when I decided to finally run away. You see, I was living with this family because my family died when I was a baby. I was left at this family's door step before I was even a year old. While I lived there, I was never considered part of the family. I was just a slave; a servant; a maid. I despised everyone and everything in that entire house. Well, except for two things. My Richard Castle collection of books, (yes, they were mine; I owned them all) and Scott. He's the only one who stuck up for me in that house.

I got to the end of the drive and searched for the bush. When I took the garbage out this morning, I hid my box of Castle books in the bushes. I jumped when the bushes next to me rustled, but relaxed as I saw Castle come out of the bush. He mewled softly as he rubbed against my arm.

"Hey boy," I whispered as I began to scratch behind his ears. He purred and sat next to me, waiting until I pulled the box out. After another minute of searching, I found the box in another bush over. Guess I forgot where I put it. I started to climb the fence and as soon as I got over, I dropped to the ground. I crouched down and reached under the fence to grab my box of books. After picking up the box, I turned down the street, and headed to New York City. Castle slid gracefully under the fence and proceeded to follow me. I headed down the street in my best jeans, my black long-sleeved shirt, (which I had a tank top on underneath) and my parka. It wasn't too heavy but not too light either, so it helped. My old boots still fit so those were my shoes. I had an extra shirt and jeans in my box. If I had to guess, I'd say I was carrying a little over 100 lbs. All I had to do was walk a couple miles and soon I would be free! Goodbye old hag! Goodbye tea trays! Goodbye ointment! Goodbye stinky, wart-covered feet! Goodbye Meredith and her chores! Goodbye Sc- - …

Scott…

At the precinct…

"Hello, my fellow comrades!" Castle called as he waltzed into the precinct. Beckett looked up from her desk, grimaced, and continued with her paper work. Even though she grimaced, she didn't mean it. She was actually glad to see the goofy author. She always kept up a protective shield to hide those weak emotions. Showing that might make others respect her less and that is defiantly what she does NOT want.

Especially when you're a female police officer.

Other people and other police forces may see female detectives as weak but not her. Detective Kate Beckett has closed all of her cases! Well, except for one… And that cold case is going to be knocking at her door very soon.

"So how is my muse today? Good? Bad? Okay? Happy? Sad? Wishing to- -" Castle was cut off after he had grabbed a coffee from his espresso machine that he bought for the officers.

"- -to be rid of you for at least a day? Yes, Castle, I do wish that," Beckett said sharply, but, wincing internally, hoping she hadn't offended him too much. She was still looking at her paper work.

"Oh …. Always with the cold shoulder, Detective. C'mon, just admit you're a little glad to see me?" Castle pressed, trying to lean down and see her face in the bright morning sun.

Beckett looked up at Castle, and sucked in a loud breath as if to say something but stopped when her eyes met his. She was speechless; captured in his eyes. She hadn't even realized that their foreheads were almost touching and she could feel his warm breath on her face. That is, until Castle asked, "Well…?" smirking wide. Kate leaned back into her seat, shaking her head to clear the fog that had overcome it. She quickly put her head down and continued with her work, trying desperately to hide and control her blush.

"Shut up, Castle. Let me work," she muttered.

Castle leaned back into his chair that was next to her desk and confirmed triumphantly, "I'll take that as a yes."

Beckett's head whipped up to face Castle and put a finger right to his face. Just before she could respond to his childish behavior, her phone rang. She sighed and reached for her phone as Castle smiled even wider.

"We're not finished here," she whispered, then flipped her cell open her cell phone.

"Beckett," she answered. Castle listened closely to try and hear the conversation but Beckett just stood up and turned away, an outraged look on her face, and slammed her hand on her desk.

"How did you get this number?!" she demanded. Castle leaned back and watched a worried look on his face. Esposito and Ryan both poked there heads out of the coffee room to see what was going on, both with an espresso in hand.

Beckett listened for a response. Then, …

"Just thought I'd tell you to watch the news tomorrow. It's going to be… what's the word…? Thrilling." The raspy voice said.

"WHAT are you going to do, Malone?" Kate asked sternly, trying desperately to hide the urgency in her tone.

"Scared? Good. Now sit back and enjoy the show," he said. The last thing she heard was a scream and then the line was cut off.

"Malone!" she roared. This guy really pisses her off. He was the killer from her one cold case. He was too smart; always staying a step ahead of them.

"Esposito! Ryan! Get out every bit of information we have on Malone! Run a check on where Elinor Audigier's foster home is located and get an armed squad down there, now!" she barked.

"Run a check on that phone call and see if you can locate him! Castle!" she got his attention, "You're coming with me," she said as she walked around her desk towards the elevator. Castle nodded and held back his smart remarks, knowing now was not the time for jokes.

After getting on the highway, Beckett's phone went off. It was Ryan.

"Beckett," she answered.

"Hey, yeah, it's Ryan. You're foster home is 18424 Cumming Dr. in Polo Hill. There are two armed squads that are there waiting for you," he informed her.

"Thanks Ryan," she said and then snapped the phone shut. Castle saw how tense she was and gave her a curious stare. Beckett saw him staring out of the corner of her eye and sighed.

"Malone is a killer from a cold case. My one and only cold case. We call him Malone but that's not his real name. It's what the bastard calls himself," she began to explain. Castle listened quietly.

"The Audigier family was murdered 15 years ago but there daughter survived. She was put into a foster home for protection. I think Malone is planning to finish the job and kill Elinor tonight. Hell, she could be dead already!" she spat the last sentence through her teeth and then floored it. A minute later and they were there. They got out of the car and walked to the house. Castle had to practically run to keep up with her. An officer came up to Beckett and started to explain what was going on.

"When we got here, we found the mother and eight year old daughter dead. Both shot," he began. Beckett's pace slowed for a split second as she winced but then continued. Castle noticed.

"Mrs. Drake is the mother, Meredith is the eight year old and Scott is the sixteen year old," she continued. That made Beckett stop in her tracks.

"Son? There was a son? I thought you said only the daughter and mother were dead. And what about Elinor?" she asked.

"Their bodies weren't found. We're still investigating and searching but we think Elinor may have left before the murder. All of her belongings are gone," he answered. Unknowingly, Beckett whispered, "Why would she run away in the first place?" She thought about possibilities of what happened. Even though she liked to get her facts straight first, she gradually began to think of possible outcomes for murders like Castle always did. She'd never admit it, but it really helped in her investigations. Before she could say anything, Castle answered her question with another question.

"Maybe the better question is why wouldn't she run away?" he implied while raising an eyebrow and turning to face Beckett. Her eyes became slits as she stared at him.

"That doesn't make sense, Castle," she told him, a bit of annoyance in her voice. It was actually a really good question, Beckett just couldn't understand it, though.

"Sure it does," he whispered, then turned to the officer.

"Does it look like she left anything behind?" he asked first. Kate just stood and listened, knowing it wasn't worth it to try and stop Castle and that he might come up with something.

"No. It looks like all she had was a backpack and a box," the officer answered.

"Okay. Good. Now, what about a room? Big room? Small room?" he asked next.

The officer replied, "No room. She was sleeping on a cot in the attic." Castle gave a 'hmmm' in reply and then turned to Beckett, his face asking: "Well…?"

Beckett sighed and began to walk towards the front door. Castle and the police officer watched her go up and the officer said a quick 'good luck' then walked back to the other cops. Castle shook his head, an amused look on his face, and followed the detective inside. He found her talking to Lanie, who was giving Beckett the report of how and when they were murdered.

"… about 15-20 minutes ago." Castle heard as he walked up.

"Thanks, Lanie. Any word of other bodies? Or still nothing?" Beckett asked.

"Still nothing," she said.

"Thanks," Beckett said and then walked away to look around more. She walked all the way upstairs to the attic and found the pull out letter. The white string hung from the door in the ceiling, swaying lightly from side to side. She pulled it cautiously; making sure no one was up there (like a body). She climbed the 9 steps slowly. After reaching the top, she poked her head inside and looked around warily. She saw the cot and thin blanket she had. The floor was old, wooden planks.

"Poor kid…" she murmured.

"Can I see? Not that the view from down here isn't great. I'm quite enjoying it," Castle called, startling her a bit.

"Castle!" she exclaimed quietly.

"I'm coming up," he told her. Before she could tell him to wait, he was stepping up behind her. She froze when she saw his hands on the latter just above her hips. She tried to hide her slight blush by looking up.

"Castle?"

"Yes?" he stretched the word like a little kid.

"What are you doing?" she asked quickly and in a sharp tone.

"Why, I'm waiting for you detective. I would very much like to see the attic as well," he replied, as if he had no clue that this was bugging her.

"Couldn't you have waited for me to get down first?" she asked, more annoyed then ever. Castle stepped up one more step, which made it very hard for her to hide her shiver. Now his hands were on the latter by her waist.

"But I'm scared of attics, detective! I don't want to be alone!" he whined in a childish tone. Beckett was about to loose it so she just climbed the latter. Castle smiled and continued up the latter after she was completely up in the attic. Once Castle was up there he looked around, saw the cot, gave a low whistle, and then walked back to the latter.

"You're done?" she asked, in utter shock that he was up there for all of 30 seconds.

"Yup," he said as he got back on the latter. Kate rolled her eyes and stared at him incredulously.

When Castle got low enough to where his head was just in the attic, he looked up at the detective. Her arms were crossed, eyes wide, and her mouth slightly open.

"Your mouth is open," he informed her. Then he continued down the rest of the latter. Beckett shook her head slightly and decided to look under the cot and the blanket. Nothing. She was about to go back down when she got an idea that only Castle would have thought of. She leaned over the opening in the floor to see if Castle was waiting for her. No one was there. She sighed in relief and then got on her hands and knees. Knocking and pulling on each floorboard.

"Ah, hah!" she said when a floor bored opened. Inside was a cloth pouch and small note that was folded in half. She was so excited that without even thinking she turned around to stick her head out the attic door and call Castle over.

"Castl-!" she stopped short when Castle's face was right in hers. Their noses brushing softly. Beckett was in a bit of shock again but pulled back just as Castle said, "Yes, detective?"

"Uh, uh, I – I found a fake floorboard," she told him while looking back to the plank that stood vertical in the middle of the floor. She moved over to let Castle up. While he got situated, she pulled on a glove and took out the pouch and note. Castle held out his hand.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't I need a glove?"

"No," she turned her gaze back to the pouch and opened it, finding it empty. Sighing, she looked back to Castle. She snatched the note up quick because Castle was going to pick it up.

"Castle! That's evidence! Do NOT touch it," she warned.

"You said I didn't need a glove!" he argued.

"Yeah but I didn't say you could touch anything either," she argued back.

"Hmmm… Touché," he responded. Watching Beckett curiously, Castle waited for her to read the note. Beckett gave Castle a quick glance and then unfolded it. It read:

I'm leaving. This place is terrible. I'm just a 'nobody' here. No one respects me. Well, except for Scott. He always protected me when I was about to be punished physically. Why, though? I don't know… I'm leaving this necklace. Although I hate parting with the only thing I have of my parents, I'm leaving it because if someone who finds this and cares enough about me, they will take care of it for me or try and return it. I'm going to New York City.

Don't forget me… Elinor Petrove

"We have to find her…" Beckett sighed.

"Yeah…one question though… who took the necklace?" Castle asked. Beckett's eyes widened a little bit, but she relaxed.

"Let's get these to the lab for prints. If the results go the way I hope they do, then I think I know where the necklace is," Beckett said.

A back alley in NYC…

I wonder if anyone will find my note… I probably should have left a hint for that floorboard; like marking it or something… My head hurts. I have to find a place to stay because it's going to be getting dark soon. The lazy calico that I took in and cared for is now paying me back generously by adding more weight that I have to carry. He's relaxing comfortably on top of my books. I remember when I first started caring for him; all alone in the cold by himself. Even though he was a stray, I cared for him. I could have left him starving on the streets, but, I just felt so bad for him… That's why I took him in. I had to protect him. Kind of like how Scott protected me on several occasions. I remember when I was fourteen…

A/N: (Okay! I'm going to stop there! Next chapter will start off with the flashback! I promise! I hope there were enough Castle/Beckett moments for you! Please leave a question/comment/review! See you all soon!!!)

SNEAK PEEK!

No… I don't want to be hurt! She hurts me worse each time! Now she wants to humiliate me by hitting me in front of Meredith and Scott instead of privately. How dare she! She slapped me across the face. I didn't feel it at first but my face stung. Then I felt something cool trickle down my cheek. Blood. I looked up to see Meredith sneering at me. Great… Scott probably thinks I'm a piece of dirt now, too. I regretfully turned my gaze to Scott. Instead of seeing a disgusted or ashamed expression, it was a look of pure terror. I looked at him confused until I was hit by another blow. It sent me back against the pillar and I hit my head. That's when I started to loose it. Consciousness, I mean. I heard someone yell and then felt something over me. Through a blurred vision, I saw the back of someone's head. Blonde hair… Scott? The last thing I remember was the feeling of floating and then I blacked out.