Chapter Four:
His apartment was too quiet. His beer was too stale. His stubble was too scratchy. His face was too pale. Seven days. It had been seven days since he had set foot in the precinct. Since he had laid eyes on his detective. Since he had felt any semblance of normalcy. Richard Castle had spent the week torn between anger, despondency, and pure emptiness. Today, emptiness was making a grand vie for supremacy.
He was slowly peeling the label off of his beer, picking at the edges that had come loose. He wasn't deep in thought, just staring at the dark brown glass of the bottle and wondering if he should risk another sip. It had gone flat and warm hours ago, but his mouth needed something to do so he took another swallow. Not even grimacing, he rested the bottle on his knee again and went back to picking at the label. His eyes had lifted to stare out of the window, but the world seemed annoying and surreal. There was too much sun lighting the streets below.
Maybe if Alexis had been home, things would be better. He would have at least been forced to put on a face for her instead of sitting in his own filth. He missed her sweet smile and wished she could be there to bring a little bit of sunshine into his life. Things were just too dark right now.
He stood and walked over to his desk, pulling out a wooden box from the drawer. Unlatching the golden clasp, he pulled out the handful of envelopes that lay within. They all had the same dainty handwriting spelling out the address of the loft. He opened Alexis' first letter and read it for the millionth time. Her penmanship was nothing to make a calligrapher jealous, but it was so unique to her. The letters weren't too big or bubbly, but the weren't small and scratchy either.
Dear Dad,
Everything here smells like pine trees! I guess I never expected camp to actually include trees and a lake and canoes and campfires. It always seemed like something that only happens in movies. Surprisingly enough, it is the perfect amount of cliché and I am enjoying myself already. I really like my bunkmates so far. Anna has red hair just like mine but much shorter and she can tell ghost stories that rival yours! Rebecca is really shy, so I don't know very much about her yet, but she seems nice. Mia is really pretty and will try almost anything. We are planning some major sabotage on the boy's camp for tonight. It would make you proud, Dad. Tomorrow the councilors are announcing the play that we will be performing. Everyone here seems so talented so I am a little worried that I won't get a role. I love you and I miss you a lot.
Love,
Your Baby Bird
Castle smiled softly at his daughter's letter. He thumbed through the rest of the letters she had sent home from theatre camp in Washington. He hadn't been entirely enthusiastic about sending her to the opposite end of the country for a something she probably could have done right here in New York. But Alexis was almost 18 and he knew she was itching to spread her wings a bit and fly from home. If sending her to a far away summer camp made her happy, then Castle had decided he would be happy too. But he really could have used another pea in his pod at this moment. He opened her most recent letter and read, hoping her words would fill the gaping hole he felt in his soul.
Hi Dad,
Camp has been real great. I got the lead as Desdemona in Othello and I couldn't be happier. I have less time for camp activities though, since my rehersals go much later. I still haven't been able to figure out just how to act the line "O, woe is me. To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!" I don't want to overdo Desdemona's passion, but the line certainly calls for a little something extra, wouldn't you agree? You're advice means alot to me, but don't worry, I'll be sure to ask Grams as well. All of the oak trees here are so much fun to climb. I can't wait to see you again. Your the best!
XXX,
Lex
Castle's brow creased a bit at her goodbye. Alexis hated being called 'Lex'. Maybe the nickname had finally caught on at camp. He smiled at the thought of her finally giving up on her lifelong resistance to any form of her name other than Alexis. Something still felt a little bit off about her letter, but Castle was tired and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He stood from his chair again and left his study for the first time that day. Alexis' words hadn't cheered him up, per se, but they had at least given him the energy he needed to grab a fresh beer.
Making his way to the kitchen, he saw her apple still sitting on the counter where she had left it. He stared at it like it was the enemy. Fruit of the original sin. Cursed apple was the catalyst for the downfall of Adam, and here it was again, reminding him of his similar decent into darkness. Because life without his detective was as dark as it got. He palmed the dark red fruit and considered chucking it as hard as he could through a window or against the wall. Instead, he merely brushed his thumb against the waxy skin and set it back down on the cold counter.
He opened the refrigerator and scanned the shelves for a beer. Any beer would do. But nothing was there. He sighed and closed the door, running a hand over his face. Stubble that could probably classify in the "short beard" category scraped against his palm and reminded him that he could hide from his hygiene, but it wouldn't erase anything from the past week. He made a note to take a shower sometime soon. Not now, but maybe tomorrow.
Beerless, he walked back into his fortress of solitude and sank into the chair in front of his computer. He wiggled the mouse around to wake up the sleeping monitor and was greeted with a chapter he had recently finished for Heat of the Moment, the next in the Nikki Heat line. There was really no point in going back to edit it, he couldn't bear to reread the words now anyway and he was liable to just delete the entire chapter in a fit of childish spite. So he quickly pressed print and then closed out the document. He leaned back in his chair and grabbed the papers from the tray. They were pleasantly warm to the touch and he ran his hand along the freshly inked words. They smeared under the light caress and he inspected his finger pads, each one branded with a smudge of bluish black. He released a bitter laugh. He had killed a man a week ago and no one had fingerprinted him. Here he was inadvertently fingerprinting himself and locked away in an entirely different manner of imprisonment. All for the crime of saving her life at the expense of someone else's.
He tapped the stack of papers into orderly submission and secured them with a staple. Then he set them on the corner of his desk for Alexis to look at later when she finally came home from camp in two weeks. He missed his unofficial editor and flesh and blood spellchecker.
Something in his brain twitched and his nose began to itch. It always did that when there was something he was forgetting. Too bad it was never any use in helping him remember what he had forgotten. His directionless gaze fell on the still open box of Alexis' letters and suddenly the wheels started turning.
Something had been off in her last letter. He pulled it out and reread it in its entirety. He counted five spelling errors. Maybe nothing astonishing for the average American teenager, but this was Alexis. She was his sure fired, fool-proof method of spell checking his own work. Her grammar and spelling had always been nearly flawless. Put together with the use of the nickname 'Lex' and paternal alarm bells started to ring in his head. As soon as his mind had opened to the possibility that something was afoot, things just kept jumping out at him.
He recited the line of Shakespeare Alexis had included in the letter. "O, woe is me. To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!" That wasn't from Othello at all! That was Ophelia from Hamlet! Suspicions all but confirmed, he was filled with a heavy and unbearable sense of dread. Stomach cold with panic, he scrambled for his cell phone that was buried beneath papers on his desk and scrolled for the number to Alexis' camp. Pressing the 'call' button, he waited with his heart pounding in his ears, listening to the empty and taunting sound of the ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times the phone rang. Each time drawing out longer than the last, until finally a youthful voice answered the phone.
"Nature's Stage Youth Camp. This is Allison, how can I help you?"
Castle barely let the girl finish speaking before he let his rushed words tumble forth into the receiver of the phone.
"Hello, my name is Richard Castle. My daughter Alexis has been in your camp for the past four weeks. I was wondering if there was a way you could put me in contact with her. It's urgent."
Everything was going to be fine. There was nothing wrong. He was just being a paranoid father. This would all go away in a minute. He just needed Allison to confirm it. He needed her to tell him that Alexis was off at rehearsals or in a canoe or off pranking the boys. His mind was trying to soothe his riotous heart. Just confirm it.
"Let me check for you, Mr. Castle." There was the sound of quick typing on the other end of the phone and then a long pause. "It says here that Alexis was checked out of camp two weeks ago."
His heart stopped, ripped, and disappeared.
"That's impossible. By who?"
"It says here on file it was her father. A mister Richard Castle."
A/N: Dun Dun Dunnnnnnnnn! And now begins our central conflict...
Three things:
1) I don't think Alexis should be an actress when she grows up (I actually have very specific opinions on her future which you guys will see in Russian Roulette when I finally start posting it), but I think she'd have fun at a theatre camp so I sent her there.
2) I know his book is called Heat Rises. I wrote this before I knew that and I just decided to keep the title Heat of the Moment.
3) Yes, Beckett left his apartment (last chapter) in a giant Rolling Stones shirt and teeny tiny shorts with high heels. Enjoy the mental image. There really was no other logical solution. Her other clothes are blood-stained and she's kind of preoccupied with the dissolution of their partnership to give a dancing shit what she looks like.
And don't worry, this isn't a heartbreaking angsty fic. It has it's moments, but mostly I'm not trying to break you guys down into tears. Stick with me. Reviews are love (and sometimes hate).
