After Alexis and Martha had both left for the day, Castle took care of some business matters that needed his attention and couldn't be further delayed unless he wanted to deal with a fuming Gina and he certainly did not. Later he tried to write, but couldn't concentrate. Around noon he decided that the only way to resolve his restlessness was to go and see her.

He was already out the door when his phone rang, he picked up without looking who it was.

"Castle," he answered.

"Yo Castle, Esposito," the detective greeted him in his typical way.

Castle stopped in front of the elevator, not pushing the button.

"What have you got?" he asked.

"Ryan and I had a closer look on Tyrell Brown. After Marissa Sanchez had been killed, a young fellow stepped in to take over the case," Castle heard him flip through his notepad. "James Rawlings. Fresh from law school, his first case. Needless to say he lost it. Brown was convicted and got a life sentence. Brown was send to Rikers Island, where he was killed after only three days in what was officially declared a prison riot."

"Does that sound as phony to you as it does to me?" Castle asked dryly.

"Absolutely, so we called this Rawlings. Being his first case he remembers it pretty well and guess what he said?"

"He thinks Brown was innocent."

"Exactly! He told us that the whole case seemed to be manipulated. Witnesses changed their statements, evidence disappeared, files went missing, you know the story. He tried to talk to the authorities, to the commissioner, but no one listened. They figured he just wanted to make a show out of his first case. When he got the call that Brown had been killed, he wasn't surprised, said Brown had expected to die soon."

No one spoke for what seemed an eternity, "Did Brown tell him something about who's behind all this?" Castle finally questioned.

"No, but he think he knew something but probably was too scared to share."

"So that's it?" Castle sounded frustrated.

"I'm afraid it is," Esposito agreed. "We're heading back to the precinct."

"Okay guys, thanks for keeping me in the loop. Not sure the 'Godmother of Protocol' would approve though."

"Well I guess she'll never know," Esposito smirked and hung up.

Frustrated Castle punched his fist into the wall and winced, "Why does this always look so cool in the movies?" he muttered to himself, while he returned to his apartment.

After he had put some ice cubes into a towel and put it on his hand, he thought about his next move. Tyrell was a dead end, literally, as everything in this investigation seemed to be. His view fell on his notepad and he had an idea. It was worth a try.

B-C-B-C

Beckett felt uncomfortable, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that she had to justify herself for getting shot. The woman in front of her, Victoria Gates, Captain Victoria Gates, her new Captain, she couldn't get her mind around that. She still couldn't believe that he was gone forever.

"Okay Detective Beckett, that would be all for now," Gates finally ended the inquisition.

For now? Beckett sighed. How much more? Gates got up and gathered her things. She stood and offered her hand to Beckett.

"I hope we can soon welcome you back at work," she said and smiled, the first honest gesture that Beckett discovered on this woman.

"Thank you," answered.

When Gates was at the door, she turned around once more, "I almost forgot to inform you that Richard Castle won't be working on this case anymore. For future collaboration," she paused, "Well we'll just see how that turns out."

She was gone before Beckett could react.

She stared at the door for a couple of minutes; Why hadn't he told her? Eventually she had enough of the musing, she grabbed for her phone and dialled his number.

"Beckett, is everything all right?" he sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine!" she quickly said.

"I just," he didn't finish the sentence. They were both silent for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me that she took you of the case?" she finally asked when he didn't continue.

"Oh I see the Godmother of Protocol paid you a visit."

"Who?" she asked.

"The new Captain," he clarified.

She was glad he couldn't see her face, if he could he would have seen the wide grin that was plastered about it.

"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out.

She heard him sigh, "I wanted to tell you in person."

"I see," she replied.

"And," he continued, "I guess not talking about it makes it less real." He was surprised by his own honesty and so was she.

"Castle?" she spoke softly, something she rarely did, but before she could share what was on her mind, he interrupted her.

"Ehm, Beckett. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later!" And with that the line went dead.

She frowned, what was that about? She couldn't quite push the feeling aside that was forming in her stomach. Castle was onto something and that could only mean trouble. Ignoring the nurse that shortly stepped into the room to signal her to get some rest she dialled another number.

B-C-B-C

Castle stopped in front of the shabby apartment complex, he checked the address again and then looked at the endless list of names that was displayed at the entrance. He was catching for straws here, it had been over 15 years after all, but he had to try. With his index finger he ran down the lines until he found the name he was looking for. Third floor, he calculated and pushed open the door.

Stepping into the dark corridor he sensed that he was watched. White guys were rare in this neighborhood. He climbed the stairs to the third floor and had to decide whether to turn right or left, he chose the latter. He scanned the doors, searching for number 315, finally he found it. Taking a deep breath he knocked.

He heard muffled steps behind the door and then a small voice, "Who is it?"

"My name is Richard Castle. I would like to ask you some questions about Tyrell, Mrs. Brown," Castle answered.

"Tyrell is dead," he heard the bitterness.

"I know, I would like to find out why," he explained.

"Are you police?" the voice now sounded suspicious.

"No, I'm a writer," he heard a key turn and chains being removed, slowly the door opened a crack. An old woman stared at him.

"A writer?" she questioned.

He nodded.

"And you're here because of Tyrell?" she made sure.

He nodded again, "Yes I like to find out what happened to him."

"So you think he was innocent?" she still sounded unconvinced.

"Yes, Ma'me that I do. I want to find out the truth."

She studied him a moment longer, before she opened the door a bit wider and let him step in. Castle followed her through the tiny apartment that was much tidier than he had expected. She pointed towards one of the armchairs and he sat down.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," he smiled and took in the room, while she disappeared into the kitchen. He heard her rumble through kitchen cabinets. He looked at the pictures on the wall, faces of smiling children looked back at him. Her grandchildren? A fresh bouquet of flowers stood on a sideboard, to the left was another door, the bed or bathroom he assumed. His view wandered further and came to rest on a picture of a young man that he had seen before. Tyrell Brown.

"He was a good boy, you know," he was a bit startled by her sudden appearance and gave a little shriek. Beckett would have liked that, if she was here. The old woman smiled at him and handed him a steaming cup of coffee. "He was just in the wrong company. It was hard for him, growing up without his parents. I'm not saying he was an Angel, God knows he did a lot of things he shouldn't have done, but he could never have killed that man."

"Mrs. Brown, did Tyrell ever mentioned someone that threatened him?"

"To be threatened is a part of life in this neighborhood," she replied.

"Was anything different before he got arrested? Did his behavior change? Anything, even if it seems unimportant?" he tried.

"It's such a long time ago," he had the feeling she was far away. "But I remember, he was home more often and earlier then usually."

"Do you have any idea why?" he asked.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't think I can be any help. An old woman like me, my memory is not like it used to be."

He understood, "Can you think of anyone else, who he might have talked to? A friend?"

Her eyes lid up, "Yes, his best friend Marcos Suoza."

"Where can I find him?"

"He owns a store two blocks from here," she opened the drawer of the sideboard and handed him a card. Suoza's it simply read. "Here's the address."

He thanked her and left the apartment, stepping out onto the street he headed north.

B-C-B-C

"Sorry Beckett, I don't know where he is!" Esposito replied for the second time.

"Well then you better go and find him and when you do, bring him here. Someone has some explaining to do." With that she hung up.

"What's up?" Ryan shot Esposito a questioning look.

"Beckett thinks that Castle is working on the case," Esposito explained.

"Ouch, writer boy is in trouble," Ryan smirked.

Esposito grinned and they exchanged their 'dancing fire fingers' hand shake.

"Let's go find him," Esposito grinned and pushed Ryan towards their car.

B-C-B-C

When Ryan and Esposito pulled up in front of the store, they smelled trouble. Rushing in, they found Castle pinned against a wall. Suoza making sure he stayed there, when he saw Ryan and Esposito, guns armed at him, he let got.

"I knew you're with the cops!" he exclaimed.

"He's not," Ryan replied, when he cuffed Suoza, who surprisingly did not put up much of a fight.

"You're really a writer?" he asked surprised.

"I'm a New York Times 1# Bestselling Author!" Castle corrected and pulled down his shirt before he followed the other three out of the store.

"How did you know I was here?" Castle asked when Suoza was sat in the car.

"The GPS of your phone gave you away," Ryan said.

"Ah, I had that App. Alexis' didn't like it. Had to delete it," Castle said more to himself.

"What were you doing here anyway? You know you're off the case!" Ryan asked.

Castle quickly explained what had brought him to the Bronx. He outlined his visit to Tyrell Browns grandmother and what he hoped to learn from Marcos Suoza.

"Beckett will be fuming!" Esposito tried to hide the grin on his face.

"Beckett? Why Beckett?" Castle frowned.

"Who do you think sent us after you?" Ryan asked.

"She knows? Shit!" he flinched. He knew he was in trouble.

"She wants us to drop you off at the hospital. ASAP!" Esposito added.

"Oh, come on guys! Please, what can I do?" he was begging now, but he didn't care. Anything to delay the inevitable. He knew she would rip his head off.

"Sorry bro, orders are orders!" Ryan and Esposito smirked at each other.

B-C-B-C

She waited, patiently. Esposito had sent her a text message that they were on the way. When he finally crept into her room, she almost forgot her anger. Guilt was written all over his face and she could see that he was scared of her reaction. It gave him this funny expression she usually enjoyed, but then she remembered what he risked with his behaviour.

"What were you thinking?" she exclaimed when he slowly moved closer.

"I just wanted to help!"

"Well Castle, you're not!" she glared at him.

"What? You don't even know what I found out!" he exclaimed. Until now he had hoped that she actually wasn't angry because he'd been poking around on his own, but because he hadn't kept her in the loop. He realized now that she was genuinely pissed, because he didn't follow Gate's order.

"It doesn't matter!"

Until then he had hoped that she actually wasn't angry because he'd been poking around on his own, but because he hadn't kept her in the loop. He realized now that she was genuinely pissed, because he didn't follow Gate's order. It confused him.

"It doesn't matter? It doesn't matter?" Now he was the one getting angry, "You honestly tell me, that it doesn't matter to solve this case, to find the man who's responsible for your mother's murder and Montgomery's?"

Her next words surprised even her, "It doesn't matter if it means you're running around on your own, getting yourself in danger! What would have happened, if Esposito and Ryan hadn't showed up? What? It doesn't matter if this means, Gates won't let you come back!" Her confession made her stop. She looked away.

He stared at her in shock, "What?"

"Gates said something about rethinking your participation in our investigations." She was surprised to see that he actually didn't know.

"I didn't … she didn't," he paused. "Well, isn't that what you wanted from the start?" he tried to lighten the mood and smirked.

She looked at him, her eyes wide, a hint of sadness in them, "I didn't mean that. I wasn't thinking that night."

Surprised he moved closer and sat down at her side on the bed, taking her hand.

"I didn't mean it," she said again.

"I know, I was just kidding," he tried to reassure her, but it didn't work. He could see tears well up inside her beautiful eyes and gently stroked her cheek. "Ssh, it's okay."

"No it's not Castle. You scared me, because the truth is. You do know me. Better than anyone else and that scares the hell out of me. You were right about everything. I do hide, because it's easier than letting someone get too close. I try to keep people at arms length, but," she looked at him, "but I couldn't keep you. And that scared me even more. I'm so sorry! You were worried and treated you like a bitch."

A single tear ran down her cheek and before she could wipe it away his thumb caressed the spot, "Kate, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. I honestly do. I know you, right? I can decipher your subtext," he gave her a smile. The one that was only for her and she smiled back. He could get lost in those eyes forever and he did. His hand was still on her cheek, he could feel his heart beat, he could see her eyes moving to his lips and back to meet his. When he was about to close the distance between them, the door was opened. The moment was gone.

The nurse was measuring Beckett's blood pressure and frowned.