Chapter 9

February 17, 2012

Castle was fascinated by how Beckett could will herself to be in complete control despite physical and emotional turmoil. He thought back to Blakely's apartment when she'd reacted purely by instinct while being showered with bullets. She'd simply brushed off an event which would have terrorized a normal person. In contrast, Castle could tell that the drowning episode had really gotten to her; that she was suffering from aftershocks, physically and otherwise, yet with only a few hours of sleep she was able to set the trauma aside and morph into a cop on a mission.

This time in the car Beckett, albeit a bit wheezy, confidently reached for her partner's hand and squeezed as though comforting him.

I'm okay. We're almost through this.

However, only minutes later they found themselves on their knees at the mercy of a suddenly very Russian Sofia Turner.

A year.

Rick Castle had followed her for a year and had been so blinded by the long legs and shiny CIA toys that he hadn't seen past the surface. Looking back, he could envision how she had used him to give credence to her CIA persona. Clara Strike had served to immortalize Sofia Turner's patriotism and humanity. In the writer's defense, he had been fascinated with the actual research, but she had wooed him with everything in her CIA arsenal. He had registered no obvious warning signs at the time, but he eventually distanced himself. The fancy toys and short skirts weren't enough in the end. He had chosen to walk away from the CIA, and Agent Turner after the novelty had worn off.

Regrets were worthless as Sofia Turner held the gun on them.

I should have been more cautious. I should have seen this coming.

This time there would be no proverbial air pocket or firearm within his grasp. He would not be capable of saving his partner.

Beckett was watchful. She shifted her eyes, desperate for a distraction, a makeshift weapon or any way to pull Sofia Turner's attention from Castle. She never trusted Sofia and yet she had turned her back to her based on circumstantial evidence. Royce and Montgomery had trained her better than that.

Instead of minutes of reflection as she'd had in the Hudson, she had seconds to mentally flick though snapshots of every person she was letting down by her inability to act. Royce. Montgomery. Castle. Her mom. Alexis. Castle. Her dad. Castle. Lanie. Martha. The boys. Castle.

Then Sofia spewed the most unexpected words at Castle, "Your father would be proud." As Beckett saw his lost expression she was incensed that the woman not only had a gun to his head, but a knife in his heart. Suddenly he looked like a ten-year-old boy, longing to understand why he'd been abandoned. That would be his dying thought. Not that he was loved and wanted. The traitor was planting seeds of despair for him to carry into eternity. Kate was trying desperately to plot a way to get them out of there that included offing Turner, but she had only seconds before the gunshot sounded. She cried out, expecting her partner's blood splatter to be the final thing she saw before she followed him in death.

Castle flinched and Beckett lurched.

The world stopped.

She thought she was hallucinating, or that fate had somehow distorted her last moments until a wave of reality broke over her. It was Sofia Turner's lifeless body sprawled on the floor. Panic and relief warred within Kate, both feelings magnified by adrenalin. She couldn't order her body to react, to move to comfort Castle. They were both still frozen, poised for execution when Agent Danberg's footfalls roused the detective and she reacted involuntarily to his orders. She was reluctant to leave her hurting partner, but saving the world had to come first, if only for the next few moments, then she swore she would devote time to helping him heal.

An unarmed Beckett focused all her spite on Sofia's partner in crime, tackling him against Danberg's orders to stay behind him. Danberg had the gun, but she had too much animosity writhing inside her to be a passive participant. She hit the ground hard, taking her target with her. She roughly manipulated him into cuffs and forced him outside where Danberg coordinated with security to have him detained.

She had to get back to her partner. The world was safe, but she had left Castle in turmoil.

As she rushed back to him, Kate felt her lungs tighten and tried to cough but could only do so weakly.

He was sitting on his heels, staring at the corpse of his former muse. Stunned and weary, he hadn't registered Beckett's footsteps nor had he reacted to her presence until she knelt in front of him and turned his face towards her gently with her palm. Her thumb stroked his cheek, and then when his eyes found hers what she found caused her to lunge forward and embraced him.

"I'm so sorry, Castle." His hands were shaking, one splayed on her back, the other holding her head so their cheeks were flush. He had no idea why she offered an apology. He was incapable of speech so he pulled her in closer.

He was in shock and she let him take comfort in her until she heard steps in the distance. She placed her forehead against his to hold his attention and cautioned, "Castle, that will be Danberg. He'll need us to corroborate his story. We're nearly done. Just hang in there a little longer. Can you do that?"

He cleared his throat and nodded. They stood and she led him away from the body, keeping hold of his hand until she was sure he had his footing. She then dropped his hand after a reassuring squeeze when Danberg approached.


By the time they hailed a cab, Castle was more himself, albeit a much quieter version. He clicked his seatbelt then put his arm around Kate, who fastened her seatbelt then loosened it considerably for the short journey. He pulled her head onto his shoulder and felt her forehead again. Her fever was worse. He was so thankful that the case was over, save a debriefing from Danberg scheduled for the following day on their turf. Now he could hold her to her promise.

As they entered the precinct looking haggard, wearing the same clothes as the previous day, they were met with equal doses of frustration and concern. Ryan took in their appearance, "I hope it was worth it, whatever it was."

Esposito crossed his arms, looked the lead detective up and down then spat, "Law of averages, huh, Beckett? By the looks of it, your odds suck." He shoved her shoulder with his as he walked away in false indignation. Castle tilted his head, questioningly but she just shook hers and smiled after Esposito.

There was a new iphone on her desk with a post-it note that simply said, for Dad. Castle immediately picked up the phone and started thumbing through the apps. Next to it Kate spied a plate of cookies on her desk, with a note addressed to her. Detective Beckett, I'm glad you're okay – AC. She fingered the cookies, handed one to her partner and said, "From your daughter."

"Ah, chocolate and butterscotch chip. These cookies are her way of trying to fix a situation when she's at a loss as to what to say or do." He took a bite then added, "I got a lot of these last summer." Fatigue let those last words slip. He'd said them as a matter-of-fact, not as any sort of accusation or barb and she absorbed the comment as a rare admission of what he'd suffered at her neglect.

Kate traced the writing, trying to remember the last time someone took the time to make her baked goods from scratch. She dropped onto her chair, "I don't feel like I deserve them."

Her partner shrugged, "I think that's the point. To Alexis, cookies aren't earned, they're just given when needed."

"You've done a great job raising her, Castle."

He beamed, "She's made it too easy for me. Let's get everything wrapped up here so we can get home and thank her in person."

To hear Castle say 'home' so casually implying a shared destination warmed her weary soul. Then a thought struck her with panic. She hesitantly asked, "Castle, is Alexis expecting me? I really don't want to push her." The fear of rejection was rearing its head again.

He picked up a cookie and handed it to his partner. "She is. She probably has another plate of cookies waiting for us at the loft." She sighed her relief.

The meeting with Gates was brief. The Captain heard Beckett wheezing, although the detective's body language suggested that she was trying in every way to hide her discomfort. Gates appreciated the calculated effort that Beckett made to maintain her poise in such a state of exhaustion. She knew her detective had offered more than what was likely sanctioned by the CIA but not the whole truth. Gates swallowed the compromise gracefully by ordering her to get some sleep and medical attention and not to come back for the rest of the week.

While his partner was with her captain, Castle made a few phone calls. The first was to Alexis to thank her for the cookies and iphone and to let her know that they had solved the case, and the other to Lanie to tell her to expect them shortly. He was thankful that Kate had given him a pass on talking with Gates since it had been at least thirty hours since he'd had any sleep.

He tried to keep his mind off the bombshell that Sofia had dropped on him but the echo remained of her sneering voice. 'Your father would be proud.' He pushed it down only for it to return a few minutes later like a mental game of whack-a-mole. Between the reoccurrences of that memory he thought only of Beckett. Ever since she had apprehended Sofia's partner it seemed as though she lacked the will to even try to take in a decent breath. She had gotten worse.

When she emerged from Gate's office she smiled at him, but it was weak enough to communicate her exhaustion and need to be free of prying eyes. Castle grabbed her jacket, placed his hand on her lower back, and then led her to the elevator.


Lanie had been expecting them but she hadn't expected Kate to make a bee line for the bench and lay down with her elbow strewn over her eyes. She scrutinized her patient who simply stated, "I feel like crap."

Lanie took out a thermometer and stethoscope and replied, "Admitting it is the first step, Sweetie." She listened to Kate's lungs then looked at Castle, "You don't look much better than our girl, are you going to be able to be responsible for her?"

He flashed his iphone, "I have all your instructions written here and I programmed alarms to keep us on schedule. She'll be in good hands, Lanie."

She smiled affectionately at him, "I know she will, Honey."

Kate chose that moment to break into their conversation, "You do realize that I can hear you and that I'm not six. I can take care of myself."

The other two looked at her as if to say yeah, right but it was Lanie who answered, "You can, but you don't so Writer Boy is in charge and you are to go along with whatever he tells you to do, medically anyway. If he starts in with laser tag or video games, you have the right to veto."

She replied with a flat, "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome. Now here's everything and you'll need. You have to have a breathing treatment as soon as you get home. I should give you one now but I know that fragile pride of yours will fight me and I don't want you in any more distress. So, for now I'll let it slide. You have a fever because your body is fighting what is likely the onset of pneumonia so feel free to take Tylenol for that every 4-6 hours in addition to all the instructions I gave Castle."

Kate let Lanie help her up as her partner grabbed their things and the bag the ME had prepared. The doctor turned to him, "If she gets hotter, you call me."

He really did try to stifle a smirk as he responded, "That's really not possible," which was met with eye rolling from two directions.

"I'm starting to think putting you in charge is a mistake. You know what I mean, Castle, you call me if she gets worse in any respect."

He sheepishly replied, "Sorry. I will be on my best behavior."

Kate grabbed his ear and led him out the door.