A/N: I am shocked that I have kept you waiting for almost a month and I apologize. Real life intruded with full force and I wasn't inspired to write and actually couldn't be bothered to, either. I briefly felt like I was in a Castle episode myself, this is still not over. I hope you can forgive me? Also, I am currently co-writing a season 6 speculation fic with WriterLeigh, you should follow her to be notified when that's posted. It's epic, it has almost all spoilers, it has a case and it has some footage from the DVD's featured in it. So if you wanna check that out, go ahead and give her a follow.
Chapter 8 - The Comeback
"Really?" he beamed and looked at her as she worked her bottom lip with her teeth.
"Really" she said.
"And how does your doctor fit that equation exactly?"
"You said you wanted to have the option," she started, suddenly very insecure again "you know, to have children and I ... I thought ... I thought about it and I think I ... well I am cleared to drop the pill all together and I wanted .. I wanted to know what you thought about it?"
"Welcome back once again, Tori," a soft female voice said and Tori's fluttered fully open to see who was talking to her, "nice, hello there Tori. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"
"I am not sure, my leg feels ... a little bit weird" Tori answered, her voice still rasp and weak.
"We had to use quite a few stitches there but I would not worry too much," the woman said and fetched a glass of water with a straw in it. Not having realized just how thirsty she was, Tori gulped down a large amount of it, almost emptying the glass.
"That's good," the unknown woman said and placed the cup back on an adjacent table, "do you feel awake enough to speak to someone?"
"Yes," Tori answered, full of hope that she might finally get to know the person that had brought her here. Maybe she would even learn as to why she was still alive and what her condition was.
"Wonderful, he'll be right in, you're feeling hungry?" Tori just nodded and the woman disappeared though the door. A couple of minutes later, said door opened again and a man entered the room. Tori estimated him for about mid- to end forty, the grey strands in his hair indicating his age. He had soft features but his face gave away the determination with which he did things, with which he did everything. Tori could only guess that it probably was better to not interfere with his business. She didn't plan to.
"Tori," he welcomed her like an old friend even though she was sure she had never seen him in her entire life. The familiarity stroke her with an all too known jab in the guts. She hadn't even allowed this person to call her by her first name, yet he did. She hadn't given him permission to 'rescue' her from her journey into a state prison and she wasn't entirely sure who allowed all the medical procedures that had been done so far. Clearly, it hadn't been her choice. But still she was curious to learn what he might have to say.
"Go ahead," she instructed the man, trying to keep a least a little control over the situation.
"You might have already guessed that you were taken from the transport to the state prison you were supposed to spend time, correct?" As she simply nodded, he continued to explain what had happened next, "I had you rescued from this convoy as I supposed you would be interested to work for me instead of going to jail..."
She snorted. "How is this supposed to work? This...," she gestured towards her face, "this is still my face. Someone will eventually recognize who I am. How is that supposed to work?"
"I am glad you're asking me," he answered, his tone clearly mocking her. How he could be in a position to do that, Tori could only guess. She tried to wait for more but her patience was shortlived those days.
"Well, it is quite simple Tori, you have two options. Option One, I have had someone take you from that police convoy for nothing, spare you from prison for nothing because you decide you wanna run and go to prison of your own will and rot there. Option Two, I have had someone take you from that police convoy, nurture you to health and will have someone modify your appearance so that no one is able to tell that it is you. You would be trained to be working for me and the payment is .. quite acceptable. Targets are customer's choices but sometimes I choose, too."
"Target as in ... killer?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Precisely."
"Nothing else was more fitting than the deer in the headlights the moment Kate had told him she had been cleared to drop the anti baby pill and actually didn't have a problem trying for a baby. With him. He had been startled to say the least. For several long seconds, he resembled the aforementioned critter in a striking way. That was something he needed to digest as it had been a real surprise.
"Castle? Rick?" she had said when he hadn't answered for what now felt like several minutes.
"Sorry," he responded, still a little bit dazed, "I am just surprised. I didn't know you had any such plans. When ... when did you decide you wanted that?"
"Remember that case with the spaceship at that convention?" Kate asked him.
"No need to remind me of that, it was shiny," he responded, a dreamy expression on his face but he suddenly got all sobered up again when the image of his daughter in her too revealing costume crossed his mind.
"Thinking about that costume Alexis wore, aren't we?" Kate teased him when she realized what had sobered him up.
"If we have a girl, there is no way I let her wear anything like this, I swear," he said, turning back to face her. But Kate just stared him in the eye, unable to grasp what her boyfriend had just said. Did he actually mean...?
"If we have ... Castle, does that ... do you really?" she stuttered, unable to form full sentences.
"If I really ... you cannot be asking that, Kate," he answered with a stern look that sent shivers down her spine and her guts twisted uncomfortably before a wide grin formed on his lips and he closed the distance between them to pull her into a tight, secure hug. Slightly nibbling on her ear he added: "How could I not love that, tell me?"
"I ... I guess ... I guess I knew that, somehow," Kate responded, suddenly ashamed of her lack of confidence in the relationship. All of the sudden it had had her in a tight grip again and she was flabbergasted it happened after she consulted her doctor. On her own. Which was huge.
"It still was a somewhat bold move," he mumbled into her hair and even if he could not see it, he knew that her perfect eyebrows had just shot up high, "to talk to the doctor before you talk to me?"
"Look, Castle, I...," she broke free from his embrace with a little to much force and glossed over it by running her hands down his muscular arms, "It just felt like the right thing to do. It only occurred to me afterwards that you might not even like my solo attempt at this."
"It takes two to make a baby, Kate," he retorted, still being awfully calm for her liking.
"The size of a prune, you say?" Martha smiled and patted Kate's shoulder for what felt like the seven hundredth's time. Kate had barely been able to escape the big hug that followed after her declaration of being pregnant and the shoulder patting was becoming too much, too. It as just a prune-sized human, that was all. At least that was what Kate tried to think when she ran the risk of freaking out at the enormity of her task.
"And Richard is trying to tell Alexis right now?"
"Yeah, that one is on him," Kate sighed.
"You're probably right about that," Martha grinned and winked, "is there anything I can help you with? I could always get some more crackers, I know they can be essential!"
"I appreciate the offer, but so far I seem to be doing just fine," Kate tried to brush off any overly protective concern the older woman might have just this instant but it didn't work. Martha was already excited for shopping trips to the most exclusive places and Kate swore to herself that as soon as she touched decoration and toys, she would get baby detention. For heaven's sake ...
"We could arrange a weekly delivery for supplies, though," Martha suggested and Kate looked up, "you know, where you order and pay online and get the groceries delivered into your home!"
"That's actually not such a bad idea," Kate admitted and Martha beamed.
Mere moments later, Alexis returned from the office and sprinted past them, up the stairs and the loud bang of the door to her old room indicated that she must have fled into it. Castle followed her soon after, heavily shaking his head.
"I thought she'd be excited," he muttered and both his mother and fiancée shot him an encouraging look.
"She will be, eventually," Kate said, patting his biceps as he approached her, "if I haven't found the time to adjust to the news, how is she supposed to do it? She's not gonna do it quicker than I do. She's a smartass, she'll understand how much work this is all gonna be. Especially if you wanna marry me before I turn into a landmass when I try to take a bath..."
Martha chuckled and offered to collect some addresses of fine tailors and bridal shops that could pull such a challenge off without hesitation, an offer for which Kate was endlessly grateful.
"I still feel I should go after her," Castle said after a while of staring silently onto the kitchen counter.
"She'll come around, she always has," his mother reminded him of one of Alexis' many good qualities. She forgave things easily, maybe too easily, but she did when she understood which impact they were going to have. So it might take a couple of days.
"Thank you for coming in, Mrs Stevenson," Ryan said sympathetically as the elderly woman sat down opposite to him. His partner, Javier Esposito, stood behind him, observing any reaction the woman might show. Right now she seemed to be calm but you never knew with the family. In some cases, an extra carton of cleenex had been helpful, sometimes handcuffs came in handy. Both detectives were curious to see which route this woman would go.
"I can't say that I am very surprised," she started before Ryan had even asked a question, "with everything that's been going on, with all the hate he constantly received it was just a matter of fact until someone found the need to kill him. Simple as that."
"Simple as that?" Ryan asked incredulously.
"Detective, if you had known my brother as I have, you would understand that he has always been a nosy little douchebag that loved to spy on people and use the information against them. Even as a kid, the other kids hated him for that. If half of the rumor I heard are legit, he must have had a lot of enemies. Don't try to deny that you're currently looking at a list of over one hundred suspects, isn't that right?"
Ryan had to give her that she was very observant and intelligent, despite her slightly shaggy looking outward appearance. He nodded.
"I knew it," Mrs Stevenson sighed, "see, my brother never really understood why people would hate on him. In his mind, he was doing the right thing. Exposing people for what they were, cheaters, liars, misfits. He always argued that he simply made people aware of the things people did, that there were some secrets that should not exist. That was his logic and it had gotten to a point where you would not wanna argue with him about that. Those discussions could become violent, and even if I was the bigger sister, his muscles defined our ranking order."
"What can you tell us about the more recent Eddie Potter, Mrs Stevenson?" Esposito asked after having taken a look at his notepad.
"Maybe not much more than you probably already know," she started, "even if Eddie predominantly MADE the tabloid, the tabloid had a rampant interest in the person that was my brother. I cannot necessarily say that it has been a joyride. Naturally, they contacted the family, too. I must have declined interview offerings from at least 10 different magazines or online sites. Other members of my family were greedier, searching for a fast way to make money. They didn't actually lie about their recollections of my brother, but they certainly didn't help improving what people thought my brother. He eventually realized that he didn't want to change how people saw him. That was a couple of years ago when he turned into a complete jackass."
"Any girlfriend?"
"Dead wife and if any woman has touched him recently, I wouldn't know. Eddie and I haven't spoken in a couple of months," Mrs Stevenson said.
"Thank you Mrs Stevenson. We might get back in touch with you as the investigation enfolds, we hope you continue to support us there," Ryan got up and Mrs Stevenson understood this as the signal that she was free to leave as well.
"Of course, detective. As misguided or morally condemnable he might have been whilst he was still alive, no one can walk after murdering someone else. So I am more than happy to assist if I can," Mrs Stevenson answered and gladly accepted the card Ryan offered her. She shook both their hands and promised to be available for future phone calls.
As soon as she had stepped into the elevator Esposito turned towards his partner and said, "Can't help it bro, but that was a weirdo."
"Yeah," said Ryan, "we might have seen worse but this one definitely's got a screw loose."
"Did you see how she offered to help us, how often did that happen in all these years we've worked together and the person saying it did NOT have something to hide?" Esposito asked.
"Never, I think it never happened."
"Exactly."
The photo studio was dark. Sam Canston stood in it, developer in one hand, and worked on his most recent photographies. He had never really understood the profession of a paparazzo but when he learned how much money could be made if you were really, really good at it, he had eventually given in. Not that he hadn't already been successful, he owned an established photo studio and had been the reliable go-to photographer for all kinds of occasions, weddings, baptisms, engagement pictures, family parties ... but had to sacrifice most of those jobs when he joined the dark side. Now celebrities turned to other professionals and they had almost all become his enemies, people who probably wished that all kinds of diseases came upon him in a fortnight.
He didn't worry too much about it, though. Money still came in and his friend Eddie Potter had made sure that he worked. Mostly for him, and it payed off nicely. He hadn't heard from his friend in two days and was slightly worried but more due to the fact that he hadn't called with any new job details. Sam decided to give him a call as soon as the pictures were developed, which should not take long now.
As his studio was so dark, he didn't even realize that there was a second person in it, melted into a corned between the wall and a cupboard. The slow even breaths he made didn't attract Sam's attention as the noise of the air conditioning was loud enough to coat them. Slowly stepping out of the shadows, the man retrieved the shiny silvery knife from behind his back and soundlessly moved closer. As he stood behind the photographer, he smiled, raised his arm and quietly said: "Boo."
Then he sliced up his throat like a juicy papaya and Sam Canston glided down onto the floor. The killer waited a couple of moments before stepping away and switching the light on, apparently destroying all the currently developing pictures in the room. As he had done before, he waited for several minutes before he unfolded his roll of freshly cleaned and sanitized knifes. Some smaller ones would be needed to do as he was told. With exact precision he should be done in no time.
A little while later when he had finished his work and the eyes were safely stored away, he left a little printed note with the body saying: "A photograph can be an instant of life captured for eternity that will never cease looking back at you."
As he was about to leave the studio, the answering machine was busy recording a call that had gone to voicemail. A female voice started to speak to the recording device: "Hi Sam, this is Gina Cowell, listen, I might have a major deal for you, can you call me back as soon as you hear this? Thanks."
He made a mental note to see who this Gina Cowell was and left the studio, leaving no evidence behind. 'Let them find the bastard as soon as he began to stink,' he thought, grinned, and quietly fled the scene.
