For the first time in a few days, she feels somewhat refreshed. This past case has really taken a toll on her, both physically and emotionally, and it's left her more exhausted than usual.

She'd woken up early to Eli lying beside her in her bed, pressed up against the headboard with one of his books in hand. As soon as he had realized she was awake, he put it down and beamed over at her, leaning to give her a hug and yell "happy birthday!" loudly into her ear.

He'd been adamant he help with breakfast, because it's her birthday and "I would have done it myself but I'm not allowed to use the stove," and she'd laughed. Ruffling his hair, she'd pressed a kiss to his head as she handed him the necessary ingredients to make pancakes. All of the stove work was hers to finish, but she let him pour the batter in the pan and grab fruit from the fridge.

Around 2:30 she'd begun to lose steam, the lack of sleep coming back to haunt her.

"You're tired," Eli had said, merely an observation.

She'd squeezed his shoulder with a small chuckle. "I am, bud. But it's okay. You know why?" He'd shaken his head. "Because I'm spending my birthday with you," she'd told him, tapping his nose with her forefinger.

"You should take a nap. We can pause your birthday and have fun when you aren't tired!"

Her sweet boy. Normally, she wouldn't—she doesn't like leaving him unattended—but he'd insisted he would be okay for a few hours ("I'll play with my games, Mom," he'd said easily) while she caught up on some sleep.

Waking up now, she stretches out, pointing her toes into the mattress. It's just after 4:30, and those two hours seem to have done something, at least, and with any luck she'll be able to sleep well tonight too.

She swings her legs from the bed and pads her way into the hallway.

"Eli," she calls as she makes her way through the living room. "What do you want for dinner?"

There's silence and she thinks nothing of it, figuring since he's not in the living room that he's hiding out in his room. She makes a cup of coffee to rid herself of the last remnants of sleep and carries it with her to go greet her son.

"The nap worked wonders, kid," she says as she pushes open his door with a smile. "Now come help me choose a nice birthday meal for—" The smile drops from her face, replaced by furrowed brows when the room appears to be empty. "Eli?"

After checking his room, closet included (she once found him curled into his clothes basket at 5 years old, and though he's taller now, sometimes he'll still hide there), she makes quick work of checking the rest of the apartment. The bathroom, her bedroom, the kitchen, everywhere in the living room she can think of.

"Eli!" she yells, panic curling itself around her ribs. She places her coffee onto the counter, saving herself from the inevitable clean up when it falls from her shaky hands and shatters against the hardwood. "E, this isn't funny."

But there's still no response and the fear begins to take hold. She does her best to push it back and take a deep breath; think about the situation just like a case, she tells herself.

Nothing's out of place. There's been no upheaval of her apartment, save for the usual mess an eight year old boy leaves in his wake. The front door is still closed, no sign of anyone breaking in or tampering with the lock in any way.

Eli knows better than to just leave, but the alternative is far too dreadful to even think about.

Hands unsteady at best, she grabs her cell phone and calls the boys. They're not off duty today—she wouldn't be, either, but they had finally convinced her to take some of her built up vacation time, what with her birthday and the upcoming holidays. Realistically, she knows they're likely in the middle of a case, but she's just barely keeping it together.

"Espo," she exhales as soon as he answers.

"Beckett, shouldn't you be engaging in birthday activities with our favorite mini—"

"Eli's gone."

There's a brief pause. "What?" She hears him call Ryan over and the immediate muffled sounds of shuffling. She assumes they're both leaning into the receiver. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"I don't—Javi, he's not here," she manages. "I took a nap and woke up and he's nowhere. I checked the whole apartment."

"Are there signs—"

She cuts Ryan off. "Of a break-in? No," she breathes, running a hand through her hair. "Nothing's out of place. He knows better than to leave this apartment on his own, or without telling me, but—"

"But that's the best case scenario," Espo finishes for her. "I know. Listen, we'll be right over."

"No, guys, you're mid-case, I just..."

She's not really sure what she thought they'd be able to do, especially since it looks like Eli left on his own. But because of their job, her job, she's made some enemies and this could quite possibly be one of her worst nightmares.

"Beckett, we're coming," Ryan says firmly. "Eli's more important. Captain will understand."

After relenting, she thanks them again. She waits in the living room once they hang up, each nerve ending a live wire beneath her skin.


"Is there anywhere he would've gone?" Esposito asks, and she merely shrugs. "A park? A game shop? A friend's?"

"I don't think so. I mean, he loves the park as much as the next kid, but he wouldn't just go."

Ryan steps up. "We can call some of his friends?"

Beckett nods, pacing into the kitchen to find her phone once more. She has a handful of numbers in her contacts for some of the other parents, from parent-teacher nights and other various school events, but there are only a select few of their kids Eli regularly hangs out with or even talks about.

"There are only a couple I can think of, but I don't know if he even knows where they live."

Even still, with her two friends beside her, she calls.

"Hi, Mrs. Thomas," she greets, wishing so badly to bypass the pleasantries. "It's nice to hear from you too. Listen, Eli's not there is he? No? Okay, no, that's okay, thank you."

Hanging up, she tries again. Each phone call goes about the same—her son is at none of their houses, and she pointedly ignores the questions about whether there's something wrong, the hidden judgement in their tones as it becomes clear she's not entirely sure where her child is.

"I'll go look around," Ryan says, grabbing his jacket. "Maybe he's at one of the shops or bodegas on the street. He likes that hot dog cart a little ways down, right?"

Nodding, she bites at the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. "Yeah, yeah he loves that one."

"Go," Espo says, giving a curt nod to his partner. "I'll stay here."

Once Ryan's gone, she slumps against the kitchen counter, burying her head in her hands.

Deep breaths, Kate.

"He's fine. He's a little boy. Little boys do stupid stuff like this," he says, and she turns to look at him. "I should know—I was one. And trust me, if leaving the apartment without your knowledge is the worst thing Eli does, you're doing one hell of a job."

Beckett huffs. "Yeah, one hell of a job losing my kid."

"Hey, stop. You didn't lose him. And you didn't do anything; this is in no way your fault."

She shakes her head. "I shouldn't have taken a nap, I should've just pushed through it and waited until he was asleep."

"He's eight, Beckett. You're allowed to leave him to his own devices while you take a nap. You've done it before, right?" A small nod. "And he's never done this?" She shakes her head. "See? This isn't a repeat offense. A nap is not the cause of this."

While she knows he's right, that Eli doesn't ever do things like this, she can't help but think about how it wouldn't have happened at all had she just stayed awake.

If anything happens to that boy, she'll never forgive herself.


It's around 5:30 when Ryan returns from his search, which unfortunately brings about nothing of substance. Eli wasn't in any of the stores, and the vendor of the hot dog cart he loves said he hasn't seen him today.

They wait around in her apartment for another 20 minutes, trying to decide what the next best thing is to do, and Beckett nearly loses her mind with each passing second.

At the 25 minute mark, just as she's about to call and report her son missing, she hears a jingle of metal insert itself into the keyhole. Her pulse quickens and she makes a beeline for the entryway, leaving Ryan and Esposito just behind her, hands on their weapons should this be anyone but Eli. Beckett pulls the door open without a second thought, and her heart slowly dislodges itself from her throat, some of the heightened anxiety flowing from her body.

For a few seconds she remains frozen, unable to do anything but stare, wide-eyed at the sight in front of her.

Standing in the doorway, next to her son and looking painfully unsure of himself (and a little frightened?) is Richard Castle.


A/N: I'm overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter—thank you.