I'm trying to break the habit of apologizing for late postings- really, I am, but I don't mean to take such a ridiculous time. Really.
Thank you to Phalangesbyfive and to IMW for their lovely beta work.
And to Andy/Bugg/Annie/Dre for being such a sweetheart.
And without further adieu-
Drown
...
Monday | 8:11 a.m.
"Who's gonna go get her?" Esposito turned to Ryan and Sorenson, who had congregated in Castle's study. In response, Sorenson threw up his hands. "I'm out," he said, walking away, leaving the two partners to sort it out. That was a whole other can of worms and he was not about to open it.
Ryan looked from the bedroom door to his partner. "You're lead detective, bro," he reasoned. The look on Esposito's face was one of resignation, and Ryan knew he'd won.
"Go fix her some coffee," Esposito ordered, before he took a deep breath and pushed open the bedroom door.
The only light poured in through a break in the heavy curtains, the sunlight illuminating the bed in the center of the room. Javier put on his detective face, distancing himself as far from the scene as he could before he dare approach the bed.
Business as usual.
Nothing weird about this.
Nothing weird at all.
On the right side of the bed, he made out the shape of Kate Beckett, and curled tightly around her, Rick Castle. He crouched by the bed, placing a hand on her arm, gently.
"Beckett," he hummed, equally as soft. Without moving, she made a disgruntled sound of acknowledgement. He shook her only just, repeating her name.
She turned her head to face him, blinking furiously. He left his hand on her arm as she processed her surroundings. "Javi?" she croaked, sleep still fogging her voice. "Whaddareyoudoin' here?"
He smiled softly at her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"I have something you need to see," he told her, choosing his diction carefully. He didn't want to alarm her. Or to piss her off before she had her coffee, for that matter.
"'Course," she mumbled. "E'ry thing okay?" she asked, not making any effort to rise. Esposito couldn't even entertain the idea of lying to her.
"No," he answered simply. The blunt answer had the effect he was aiming for. Her eyes shot open and she seemed hyperaware of the man around her. She turned, ever so slightly, to look at Castle, who was still sleeping soundly. She turned back to Esposito.
"Give me five," she told him, and he nodded, standing and leaving her to extricate herself from Castle's hold.
Papers covered the dining room table. Case files, mug shots, cell phone records, fan mail- there wasn't a speck of hardwood to be seen. On top of all the clutter sat a brown box. It was unmarked, no postage, no address, and it was opened at one end.
"What the hell is this?" Kate asked. She emerged from the bedroom, dressed and wide-awake. She had pulled her hair back with a rubber band and pushed the sleeves of her tee shirt up to her elbows- a sure sign that Detective Kate Beckett was awake and ready to work.
She approached the three men standing around the table, her arms crossed. Ryan rushed forward, handing her a mug of coffee. Kate smiled gratefully as she accepted the black cup, not failing to notice the particular mug he had chosen. She brushed her thumb over the letters adorning the hot ceramic, staring at the word with a soft smile on her face as she remembered the day she unwrapped it.
Kate was sitting on the barstool in the kitchen, laughing over one of Castle's ridiculous anecdotes, when the front door opened and closed. A moment later, Alexis came into view, all smiles.
"Hey 'Lex," Kate greeted, as the teenager tossed her book bag onto the couch, sliding into the stool beside her. "How was your day?" Her eyes flickered down to the bag in Alexis' hand.
"It was good," the redhead replied, cheerfully. "Hey dad," she greeted her father, who was behind the island, working on dinner.
"Hey Pumpkin," he smiled, warmly. Alexis turned to face Kate, her hands fidgeting with the bag in her hand, nervously.
"So Kate," Alexis beamed. "I realize that you just got settled in your new apartment, but I wanted to make a sort of contribution. To make your new place more... well, home-y, I guess. I realize you don't want it to be exactly like your old place, I mean it's not the same by any stretch of the imagination. Anyway, I wanted you to have something as a token of my gratitude. For you know, putting up with my dad and all." The teenager was talking a mile a minute, and Kate smiled.
"Lex," she interrupted, the nickname slipping out for the second time without thought. In response, the girl shoved the bag into her hands.
"Technically, it's for the both of you," she clarified, as Kate started pulling tissue paper from the bag. At the mention of presents, Castle directed his attention away from the vegetables he'd been slicing, and both father and daughter watched as she eagerly tore in to the bag. Both Castles watched her eagerly as she tore into the bag, pulling out one mug, and then another, setting them beside each other on the counter.
Each were black- one of the ceramic mugs had 'ARMED' written in small typewriter font. The other was similar, the typewriter letters spelling 'DANGEROUS'. Kate couldn't suppress her wide grin.
"Alexis," she told the girl, taking her hands in her own. "Thank you." Not knowing how to express her gratefulness, Kate settled for the two simple words. The younger woman mirrored her cheerful smile.
Kate turned the mug carefully, as to not spill the steaming hot liquid, tracing her fingers over the five letters as she remembered that day. The cups were a pair, and she refused to separate them. It never really made it home with her, and the residue of the memory left a sad smile on her face.
"Yo, Becks," Esposito called, and she landed back in reality with a jolt. Sorenson, Esposito, and Ryan were all looking at her, eyebrows raised. "You with us?"
"Yeah," she shook her head, slightly, forcing herself to concentrate. "Sorry. What did you need to tell me?" In answer, all three men shifted their gaze from her to the box in the middle of the table. She followed their stare, eyes landing on the package.
"What the hell is that?" she asked, her voice sharp and clipped. There was a heavy pause, as if she were a teacher and they were student that didn't want to be called on. She looked around at the semi-circle they formed around her, using her best intimidating stare. "Don't you dare make me ask again," she threatened.
Esposito shifted from one foot to the other.
Ryan dropped his gaze.
Sorenson spoke.
"A cell phone." She turned her hard gaze to him, silently demanding that he elaborate. "We found it on the doorstep when we got here this morning."
Castle woke alone. He sat up, rubbing his eyes wearily. Beside him, the bed was empty, but the sheets were still warm. She must have just gotten up. He climbed out of the bed, running a hand through his hair as he shuffled, barefooted, into his study and then into the living room.
He heard it first.
The yelling.
Then, as he made his way across the living room, he saw it, too.
Kate was a good head shorter then Sorenson, but in this particular moment, she couldn't have been larger. She was poking him in the chest with her finger, and although she was yelling for half of the neighbors to hear, it was unfolding like a silent picture.
"How the hell did this creep manage to put a box on the doorstep without being seen?" She was yelling. Castle heard her, but it wasn't registering. "You have what, Will, eight Federal Bureau Investigators and the best of the twelfth here, and you're telling me someone made it in, left a present, and back out without any sort of interception? How the hell does that happen?"
She didn't want to hear about the building's breach of security, or the stolen uniform they found abandoned in a closet down the hall from Castle's front door. He didn't want to hear about the witness statements the FBI were taking of the entire staff of the building, or the canvas they were doing of all the neighbors. She didn't want excuses or fixes or a press conference.
Will stood there, shoulders back, head up, eyes focused on some spot on the wall, still as a statue. When he was sure she was done, Sorenson spoke. "Kate, I'm-"
"Don't you apologize," she interrupted, pointing her finger again. "I'm not ready to forgive you." It was then that Sorenson caught sight of Rick, his demeanor changing immediately. Kate still didn't seem to notice.
"If you think an apology is going to cut it, then you are seriously delusional, because there is absolutely no excuse for this blatant disregard of-" But before she could continue, Sorenson grabbed her elbow in an attempt to bring her current audience to her attention. She yanked it back and he released her as if she were on fire.
"Don't touch me." She started in again, anger flaring in her eyes as she stopped pacing and turned on him. This time she was silenced by the pointed look he gave in Castle's direction. She followed his gaze and when her eyes landed on his blue ones, she froze.
"What's happened," Castle asked, his voice coming out half as strong as he'd hoped. Kate snapped her mouth shut fast and hard, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked up at Sorenson, expectantly. As if she were asking, 'Yeah, what happened, Will?'
"We found a package on the doorstep this morning when my boys and I arrived," Will told Castle, who just looked at him. Kate was holding her breath, waiting for his response.
The silence was heavy. Then Castle spoke.
"What was in it?" Kate let out her breath and Sorenson relaxed but only slightly. She looked like she wanted to go to Rick, to attach herself to his side where she belonged, but she stayed put.
"A cell phone," Sorenson said.
"Disposable?"
Sorenson nodded. "And a note." He reached into the box and handed Castle the note. Kate did move to Rick's side now, part of her wanting to read the note, the other just glad for the excuse to be near him.
$25,000. We will text with an address. No cops or she starts losing fingers.
The sensation of Kate's fingernails digging into his side where she clutched onto him kept him from losing reality. He read the message again. Three times. Five times. The message didn't change.
"Can I hold on to the phone?" he asked.
"Castle." It was Ryan who interjected. "There's a chain of evidence to follow. We need to process –"
"I don't give a damn about your protocols," Castle's voice came out loudly and harsh. Kate's grip on him tightened slightly.
"Rick," she chastised. If his lack of emotion or rage was unnerving, then his shouting was downright frightening.
"There may be usable prints on here, Castle," Esposito explained. "We aren't doing this spite you, and we sure as hell aren't bending anymore rules that we don't have to. When we know something, so will you."
There was a heavy pause, and then: "Okay. You'll get me the moment that phone rings?"
"Of course." Kate felt him relax minutely in her grip. "Now are we going to talk about the money they want, or what?"
She asked, hoping to get this part over with. She didn't release her hold on Castle the entire time. She told herself she was doing it for him- only for him, just for support, nothing more. At the same time the mantra was running through her head, she knew out of the two of them, her knees would give out first.
...
Monday | 10:20 a.m.
He found himself on the kitchen floor. He was sitting, cross-legged, with his back against the island, facing the bar. Amber bottles lined up, one after the other. An impressive collection, really. Different shapes, sizes, labels, ages. He reached for one of his favorite, a 15 year Lagavulin. Sharp attack, burning finish. Just what he needed.
He rotated the bottle in one hand, holding it out in front of him. He opened the top, smelling the cap, his eyes closed. He rose the bottle to take a sip and made it halfway to his lips before he grew sick with himself.
He thought of Alexis, somewhere, needing him.
Kate, was in the other room, needing him. He thought about what this would do to her, what she would think of him.
Alexis, somewhere in the dark, cold and alone.
Kate, in the other room, wondering why it's taking him so long to get a glass of water.
He put the bottle back down. If he couldn't do this for himself, he would do it for her. He knew her experience with turning to alcohol as an anti-depressant, and he just wouldn't put her through that. Knowing what he knew, he couldn't. The image of her coming in here to find him here, on the bathroom floor, drunk or on his way, was painful to think about. Nothing could make him do that to her. He wouldn't.
He put the single-malt back on the shelf and pushed it towards the back. Standing, he grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water, making his way back to his office, where Kate was on the couch, waiting for him.
When he sat down, she instantly curled against him, ignoring any and all boundaries that may have existed three days ago. Her knees met her chest and her head found the nook of his neck as her body folded into his side, his arm falling around her.
They sat there in a long silent vigil, staring at nothing, thinking about everything, when she spoke. "Rick-" her hand fell to his thigh, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked down at her and she up at him, but just as she opened her mouth to continue, Sorenson appeared in doorway.
Castle immediately stiffened as they both looked up. "They've sent a text message to the phone."
...
Monday | 12:03 p.m.
"Shit," Kate cursed under her breath. She was eye level with the third button on Rick's shirt, the tiny microphone between her thumb and her forefinger. "It won't-" she struggled some more with the miniscule clip, trying in vain to attach it inconspicuously to the button of his shirt.
"Let me-" Rick reached down, covering her thin fingers with his own, steadying them, sliding the mic into place and tucking it in so it was hidden. Kate swallowed, looking from the button and their hands to his face.
Why she was shaking and he was calm, she wasn't sure. She did know, however, that she did not like it. Not one bit. He used the hand that wasn't covering hers to guide her by the forearm until she was standing straight.
"I don't like this," she declared, to which he slowly nodded his head.
"Me neither."
"Let Ryan make the drop," she asked him, although it came out as a statement. This time, he shook his head. Before he could acknowledge her request with words, though, Sorenson strode into the room.
"So Castle, relay the plan to me, one more time," the FBI agent demanded.
"I take the taxi to Canal street and get off by Sambucas Café at Mulberry. I wait for further instructions via text," he relayed the plan almost robotically. Sorenson handed him the cell phone and a heavy blue duffle bag in reward.
"I'm taking the taxi with him," Kate declared, in a voice that wasn't to be argued with. Sorenson tried anyway.
"No, the message said Castle needs to go alone, that would be putting him at an unnecessary risk-"
"Don't get your britches in a knot, I won't leave the cab. I'm going."
"Kate," this time it was Castle. He had no doubt this was what she was thinking about
"No, Castle. You need to do this- I get that. I need to do this, too." She forced him to keep her gaze. "I'm not going to sit idly by." Before Castle could say anything, she turned to Sorenson. "I'm going."
...
Monday | 1:26 p.m.
The taxi was silent.
Well, other than the soft hum of the engine and the muffled sounds of techno music from the front of the cab, all to the ambiance of honking horns and city traffic, it was silent.
She was on her side of the seat, watching Castle carefully. She'd watched as he shut down, days earlier, how he'd retreated into himself, and left the shell to walk around aimlessly. She heard him mutter words that did not belong to him, say things that lacked the meaning, as well as the passion and the excitement that was Castle.
He was on his side of the cab, his body smashed against the door like he was bound to it by force, and for a fleeting moment laced with insecurity, Kate thought to herself he couldn't get himself farther away from her.
His hand gripped the door handle and his forehead touched the cool, fogged glass of the window, his eyes vacant as he watched the thick traffic slowly move forth. He watched pedestrians weave their way along the sidewalks, the throng of people thinning as they moved uptown. Fat, heavy raindrops hit the glass, loudly and copiously, as the wind picked up.
She longed to reach for him. To touch him.
The sadness she saw in his eyes broke her heart to little pieces, every one for him.
That was what sent her to him.
She scooted towards him, slowly enough to be sneaky but deliberate enough so he noticed, his reverie breaking as he shot her a sideways glance. He could stop her if he wanted.
He didn't.
She continued towards him, the black vinyl beneath her jeans allowing her to slide effortlessly and without noise. She stopped when her body was pressed softly against his.
He would have to come the rest of the way.
Her hand reached for the one lying in his lap, curling her fingers with his and giving it a tight squeeze. He looked down at their hands, entwined like they belonged that way, and his eyes traveled from them, on his knee, to her, his head unmoving. His eyes asked a question that he didn't dare voice and she answered it with another squeeze to his hand.
"I love you," she said, and it came out a whisper. She watched his eyes- watched his expression change from sad and scared, to confused, and then to realization at her words. He opened his mouth, but she shook her head and he promptly closed it.
"Not now." She said, knowingly. It was only then did she see his shoulders soften and he slowly detached himself from the door he clung to, his body leaning into hers as he relaxed in her hold. Her free hand found his back and she let him crash into her, his head finding the nook of her neck, the warmth of tears staining the exposed skin there.
She didn't care.
His shoulders shook a little as he released it all- everything he had bottled up. "Shhh," she murmured into his ear, her lips brushing across it, lightly. "You're not alone in this," she told him, and another sob came at her words as she drew patterns on his back, soothingly. "I'm here."
And it was there, in that taxicab, face buried into her hair and her arms around his body, that Richard Castle came undone.
...
"When you're drowning, you don't say 'I would be incredibly pleased if someone would
have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me,' you just scream."
John Lennon