Hello again, guys. Wow, I wasn't expecting that many story alerts whatsoever, so those were a pleasant surprise! Thank you! :)

I'm not really happy with this chapter. It's more of a filler chapter rather than an eventful one. I was going to wait it out and add more but I was pressed for time because I had so much work to do but I did want to get something up this weekend. The next two chapters might be posted a little later because I have a bunch of school things going on with studying for finals this week and then more finals next week, tests, and homework. It's almost summer though so once I'm out I'll have more time to write and hopefully they'll be up on a weekly basis.

Enough of my rambling, I hope you enjoy it anyway. And I really do appreciate all of your reviews, no matter how small, so please consider leaving one so I can hear your thoughts. They make my day! :)


The drive back to her apartment took longer than anticipated since she forgot to account for the construction site that appeared seemingly out of nowhere that morning, causing her to take a detour. She turned on the radio in hopes that it would calm her mind, but she had no such luck. She let out a frustrated sigh and turned it back off; there was no point having unnecessary noise emanating throughout the car when it wasn't helping. The thoughts screaming at her provided more than enough noise already. She spent the remainder of the ride thinking about both nothing and everything. So many things whirled through her head she couldn't keep track of it all. Things flew in and out, only to be seen – or thought of – for split seconds before leaving and being replaced with something else, some thoughts more pleasant than others. She thought about her job. She thought about Castle. She thought about her friends. She thought about her family. And she thought about her… situation.

It was a shitty situation and she knew it. She couldn't get around that. She's a cop; she should have seen the signs, but she didn't. She was too blinded by her feelings, whatever those were. Could she call it love? She didn't know anymore. Maybe it was at some point. She seemed to think so, anyway.

Or maybe she did see the signs but didn't want to believe them. Denial is a nasty bastard.

She was beginning to think it was the latter.

Whatever it was, it shouldn't have happened. But it did and now here she was, stuck. She's dealt with people in this situation before. She told them what to do, where to go, what to say or what not to say, and how to try to get out of it safely. But now that she found herself in the same position, she couldn't seem to follow her own advice. She was too far gone. It was like quicksand; the more she moved, the farther she went, she deeper she sank.

She hated to admit it, hated not being in control of a situation – but she didn't know what to do.


Beckett reached her apartment building at 12:45, fifteen minutes later than she normally would have – if she left at a decent hour, that is – because of the detour.

She trudged up the couple flights of stairs until she got to her floor and walked down the array of winding halls, not even bothering to pick up her feet for the most part. She came to a halt outside of her door.

Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe he was out with his friends. Maybe –

Any glimmer of hope she had was dashed when she saw a flicker of light appear underneath the door. He was home and awake, probably waiting for her.

It was getting later with every passing second but she continued to stand there, contemplating her options. She should just turn around and leave. She could go to Lanie's or her dad's for the night. Hell, she could even show up at Castle's doorstep and he'd happily take her in.

But she couldn't – or wouldn't, is more like it. She refused to involve any of them. None of them knew about this and she intended to keep it that way for as long as she possibly could. This was her problem, not theirs, and she would figure something out. Her not coming home would only make things worse anyway.

Deciding this was the only acceptable option she could think of, she took a deep breath and inserted her key into the lock, slowly opening the door.

Here we go.


The next morning Beckett woke and went to work early, arriving there an hour before anyone else. She walked through the doors in an oversized jacket covering her actual work clothes. It wasn't too cold out, despite it being October, but she liked the way it felt. Loose. She could breathe in it, and she needed that feeling.

She walked out of the elevator doors with her arms crossed across her chest, pulling the jacket closer to her body. Once she made it through the bullpen she dropped her stuff off on her desk, disposing of the jacket and placing it over the back of her chair. She wore her deep gray dress pants paired with a white blouse and a blazer. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was comfortable.

Once everything was squared away she grabbed a small bag from her belongings and hurried off into the bathroom.

Makeup. She needed makeup.

She left her apartment in such a rush that morning, not wanting to be there when Josh woke up, she didn't even bother putting any on. It was risky – taking the chance of somebody seeing her before she covered whatever damage was done – but she needed to leave and decided she could do it at the precinct.

And that's exactly what she was doing.

She placed the tiny black makeup bag on the back of one of the sinks against the wall. Without looking in the mirror just yet she picked up a container of concealer, spinning the top off and taking some onto her right index finger.

Taking a long, deep breath, she lifted her eyes, locking them with the pair of identical hazel ones staring back at her. They looked sad and hollow, much like they have the past few weeks. Ever since he got home. Her eyes were rimmed red and there were dark bags underneath them, but that was nothing the concealer couldn't fix. The left side of her face was throbbing and on that cheek she found a round patch of blue and gray skin. He's been back for two weeks and this was the first time he'd hit her hard enough to cause a bruise… somewhere anyone could see. She pinched her face together, contorting it into a mixed expression of pain and disgust.

She was disgusted with him. With herself. With that stupid bruise in the mirror, mocking her.

She took the index finger holding the concealer on its tip and slowly rubbed it in under her eyes, covering the bags. Once they were no longer visible, she turned her attention to the main source of her problem. The bruise.

The longer she stood there, the darker and more painful it seemed to get. Taking a bit more concealer, she dabbed it onto the bruise, careful not to agitate it anymore than she had to. She rubbed it in until it wouldn't hide anymore and then closed the container.

You could still make it out a little bit if you were right in front of her, but who would be that close? Everyone tended to stay a bit farther back in order to avoid getting into her personal space, even Ryan and Esposito.

Everyone that is, except Castle.

Castle.

She'd have to be careful around Castle, make sure he doesn't get too close. He's a writer; he pays great attention to detail. He takes pride in that about himself. If he got too close he'd notice the bruise and there would be too many questions; questions she wasn't ready to answer, questions she didn't want to answer.


The boys strolled into the precinct around 8:00 with Castle trailing not too far behind them. The three of them walked through the bullpen and into its usual hustle and bustle of detectives scurrying around, some already on a case and others getting ready for the long day ahead of them. Ryan and Esposito went straight for the break room once they put their things by their desks and Castle headed towards Beckett's desk with the two daily coffees.

When he reached it, he was met with an empty chair.

"Hey, guys," Castle called out to the boys once he noticed the lack of Beckett.

Both of them popped their heads through the doorway. "Yeah?" they replied in unison.

"Have you seen Beckett this morning? Her things are here, but she isn't."

Ryan and Esposito walked over to join Castle at her empty desk.

"I don't know, man. I haven't seen her, but she's around somewhere. Probably working already, you know Beckett," Esposito offered.

Ryan nodded in agreement, and they all decided to wait for Beckett to return while they drank their coffees and talked about their nights.


"…she's around somewhere…"

Beckett heard the voices of her team outside in the bullpen and only then did she realize she must've been in the bathroom longer than she originally thought.

She'd have to better her poker face when she went out there this time. She knew she was acting noticeably different lately and she could tell Castle was catching on. He didn't know what he was catching onto, only that something wasn't right, but she knew he was only so far away from prying to try and figure it out. She couldn't deal with that, not right now.

She took one last look in the mirror, analyzing her features and accepting that there was nothing else she could do to cover the bruise, before she gathered up her makeup. She stuck everything that was on the back of the sink into the little black bag and zipped it up.

She took a step back and fixed her ruffled shirt, tucking it in once again and buttoning her blazer.

Once she was content with her appearance – as much as she could be – she walked out of the bathroom and headed back to her desk to join the boys.

"Morning boys," she chirped as she neared the group of three huddled around her chair. "Having a party without me?"

They all turned around to face her and she hoped her makeup job was good enough to bypass their highly trained eyes.

"Morning boss, where ya been?" Esposito questioned, leaning himself up against her chair.

"Oh, I got here a little early so I thought I'd freshen up a bit." Well, it wasn't a lie. She did have to freshen up. Freshen up, cover up. Same thing.

The boys nodded in acceptance of her answer, but Castle didn't say anything; he only looked at her with his brows furrowed.

She cleared her throat. "So, Castle, that for me?" She motioned towards the coffee in his hand with a small smile.

Her voice seemed to bring him back from whatever it was he was stuck in. "Yeah, yeah here," he said, handing her the coffee. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, resting his left hand on the edge of her desk.

After a few more moments of silence Ryan and Esposito decided to go see if any bodies had dropped so they would have something to busy themselves with. That left just the two of them standing alone.

Beckett sat herself down in her chair and rummaged through her bag, looking for the paperwork she didn't finish the night before. Paperwork, while boring and tedious, helped clear her mind and allowed her to think of something else. She looked over at Castle who sat in his usual seat next to her desk. She could practically hear him thinking and it was making her nervous.

Then again, maybe the scenarios he was thinking up in his head were Castle-esque, just as ridiculous as his theories about their cases, and more importantly, far from the truth.

She hoped, anyway.