A Different Road Taken: Chapter 13
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you Mr. Marlowe.
Dec 19, 2011, Lunchtime at The Castles, Safe Complex
It is a few minutes after noon, and lunch time at The Castles Complex. It's been a busy morning, a productive morning.
He stares down at the roast beef sandwich that – for the most part – still sits untouched on the paper plate. He's made sure that some form of lunch will be delivered to the staff every day. Today, that little benefit has been a waste of money. He sits with Mike, Colin and Dr. Samantha Peraza, along with Wendy Skylans, the campus manager. Other than Dr. Peraza, who has been "attacking that meatball sandwich with gusto" as Colin had noticed, the others have barely touched their meals.
Seventeen women have come to the complex for admissions during the morning. Castle is not sure whether to consider 17 a big number, a good number or a small number. He's not sure whether to be happy about it, or to be disappointed by it. Is this a good start, or should they consider it a poor start? He just doesn't know.
On one hand, this is seventeen women who have decided that the status quo is so dangerous for them and unacceptable to them that they have opted to walk away from everything – absolutely everything. They arrive with only what they could carry.
A purse.
A suitcase.
A child.
Each has filed charges against the man in question. That's the good news. That is one of the conditions for admission. The team had gone back and forth on this one, as it had been a sticking point throughout discussions for more than a month prior to the opening. In the end, they agreed – some, quite reluctantly – that filing charges be a condition of admission. Some had argued that there will be some women that simply won't – or can't – bring themselves to press charges, and would therefore, never take the step to come to The Castles. Others felt just as passionately that an attempt to affect change in the abuser himself – or at least punish the abuser - was just as important.
Although the policy has been long decided-upon and is in operation, the conversation continues – even at lunch today.
"It's just too difficult for some women to press charges," Gail Simmons argues. As a nurse from the emergency ward in one of the local hospitals prior to coming to The Castles, Gail has seen enough abused women admit themselves into the emergency room to last a lifetime. Yet, here she is, firmly planted in that reality permanently now. "She will look for the best, she will believe for the best. She can't be faulted for that."
"No, she can't. But there needs to be a record of the abuse," Colin reiterates. "You can't just let a guy do this, mistreat a woman like this, and just get away scott-free."
Wendy is eating an occasional potato chip, while sipping on her lemonade. An interesting choice, Castle thinks to himself with a smile.
"First things first – this is about getting our women to safety," she says, stating her very familiar position on the matter.
"But this isn't only about getting these women into a safe environment," Mike argues, softly. His position on this is well documented. "We don't want to just address the symptom, here. It's about at least taking steps to ensure that the guy who does this will at least think twice the next time."
"If nothing changes, then nothing changes," added Colin. "That goes for the man as well as the woman."
"These women are more than symptoms, Mike . . . " Gail offers, and Mike's retort is drowned out in Castles thoughts that are now elsewhere. They've had this discussion many times, and while he was nervous about such divisive stances initially, he now realizes that everyone can agree on the big picture, while having smaller disagreements. These smaller positions are the passions that drive each of them toward the bigger picture.
They all agreed that getting the woman to safety was priority number one. That was a no-brainer. Regardless of anything else that happens, providing safety to someone who takes the step to leave comes first. That's why this entire complex has been built and funded.
Healing her mentally and restoring her emotionally was priority number two. And that can take a while; hence all of the resources they have invested in, and the potential to stay for half a year. Giving them time to get back on their feet – in every way – and not just throwing them back to the wolves – or wolf – after a weekend or two.
Making sure she didn't walk back into the same – or a similar – environment was priority number three. And taking steps – if possible – to ensure it would at least be more difficult for the abusing guy to get away with it again was the fourth priority.
They also don't want anyone just trying to get a few months of free rent. It's sad that they need to even consider that, but the reality is that they must. There will always be someone ready to take advantage of any opportunity, and no one here is blind to that. This point – in fact – was one of the stumbling blocks they had to overcome during the initial fundraising phase.
Of the seventeen women admitted this morning, three of them - like Marissa Honeycutt - bring a child with them. Karen Marks, a 24-year old teacher is just coming off maternity leave. She has brought her three month old daughter. Luckily they are in the holiday break at school, but Castle idly wonders how she will go back to school and teach. Will her boyfriend try to visit her at school once classes reconvene? She filed charges and hopes to get a restraining order. These things aren't as cut and dried as television makes them out to be. At least she won't have to worry about her baby, because of the child care service on-site at the campus.
"And who in the hell hits a woman three months after she has a baby," he wonders to himself, then shudders with guilt at the unvoiced question, immediately recognizing that a man shouldn't ever hit any woman, at any time. Has he begun to fall prey to dangerous thinking already? He shakes such thoughts away.
"I'm going to help them," he reminds himself. But he finds himself suddenly incomplete, and cannot place the reason why. Then he thinks about their eyes.
It is what has stayed with him all morning - the terror in these women's eyes. Oh, they hide it. A few of them mask it almost too well. They glance downward, they look away, and they offer a smile of thanks. But he can see it. It lies just behind the smile, just behind the 'thank you', just behind the hand shake. There is a lot of healing that needs to happen for them. He once again is grateful that they agreed to the lengthy stays for these women, and wonders if even six months is too short.
He has noticed that most of the women have come in their own cars. He isn't sure whether this surprises him or not, but it strikes him that many of these women are – professionally speaking – successful. They hold their own jobs, they have their own cars. He – for not the first time – mentally blots out the stereotype that had unknowingly made its way into his head regarding battered and abused women. There really is no commonality between these women, no template – other than their gender.
Scratch that - there is that one other common thing:
Every woman – every single one of them – has come in with fresh bruises, received within the past 24 hours. It was Dr. Peraza who first voiced her concern over this.
"I'm glad to see them, don't get me wrong," she had mentioned to Castle while sitting in his office before they retreated to the large kitchen area in the administrative building to meet with the others over lunch.
"But every one of them has been assaulted within the last day or so. It's so much easier to make the decision to get out when the bruise is fresh, while the pain still stings," she had said. "But I was . . . I am really, really hoping to see some admissions with no bruising, someone who is in that relationship right now but hasn't left before. Someone who has heard of our complex here and has opted to get out before the next beating occurs."
"The next beating?" he had asked. It had sounded pretty damn insensitive, he thought.
"No one hits a woman only once, Rick."
The statement had taken him aback, and he finds himself struggling with that revelation once again, as he picks up the sandwich, takes a nibble and a swig from his water bottle, and then re-wraps the sandwich.
"It's a pattern," she had told him. "It starts with a thought – and then an act. He thinks about hitting her, and then he hits her. Nothing happens, and so when the opportunity presents itself, he hits her – or someone else – again. A thought becomes an act, an act becomes a habit and then the habit becomes a behavior."
Bringing Dr. Peraza on board is just one of the many thankful points he considers as he tosses his sandwich back into the paper bag, and the bag into the trash can behind him against the wall.
"Wasn't going to be eating much of this guy today," he grumbles, half to himself.
Dec 19, 2011, Lunchtime at Castle's Sausalito Home
The two women sit in front of the crackling fireplace, their scarves still snug around their necks, and long-sleeved sweaters still firmly in place. Each holds a hot chocolate in hands that have discarded their gloves. The young redhead holds a black mug in the form of a penguin, while the older woman holds a large white cup with two hands, her name still hand-written in a black marker across the face of the mug.
"I'm trying to decide what it means that you seem to be in better shape than me," Alexis tells Kate Beckett, as she sips the hot liquid, holding it in her mouth for a second or two before swallowing.
"You may be 16," Kate answers, stopping to blow the steam and smoke off the top of her mug, "but you don't chase bad guys for a living. Think of what I do as sports on steroids."
The women smile, and continue staring at the fireplace, trying to warm themselves. They have just finished a two-mile run through the neighborhood. Up one small hill of homes, down another; looming around each corner was a majestic post card view of the San Francisco Bay. Kate is already looking forward to tackling this run on her own in the days ahead, and extending it by a mile or so. She's finally starting to feel more like her old self, physically at least. But the chance to run with Alexis; the chance to spend some quality time with the young girl – with few words spoken between them – couldn't be passed up. Even with the very cold, north bay-area winter wind nipping at them every step of the way.
Kate had awoken first, around 6:30 in the morning, and walked downstairs to see Richard Castle sitting at the counter, finishing a bowl of cereal.
"Morning, Kate," he had said. "I'd have made you breakfast if I'd known you would be getting up early."
"Good morning to you," she had responded with a smile, and then told him not to worry about it. "To be honest, I'm probably going to try and go back to sleep for a bit once you leave and then come visit you after lunch. I just wanted to catch you before you left."
"That's very thoughtful," he smiles. "You should be resting. And there is no need to come out today. You're here on vacation, as my guest. I insist –"
"You insist?" she had smiled.
"Ok, I don't insist. I invite you to rest and relax. You had a long day yesterday, and a longer evening."
"A nice evening," she had reminded him. The memories of last night – revelations shared and just the joy of a casual evening together – were probably in large part a reason for one of the best nights of sleep she has had in . . . hell, in years, maybe.
"You're sweet," she had told him, with a good morning kiss on the cheek. "But I didn't come all this way out here not to immerse myself into your life, Rick."
She sips her hot chocolate, replaying their early morning conversation. She knows – she knew immediately – that her declaration of 'immersing herself into his life' took him aback. Maybe he wasn't expecting anything like this from her, or maybe it's just too soon.
"Is he not ready?" she asks herself for the fifth time this morning.
It doesn't matter. Her commitment to herself – something she reminded herself numerous times on the plane ride out here just yesterday – was to be 'all in' with this. This wasn't something she could just dip her toe in the water over. She couldn't do this half-way, or half-hearted. He deserved more. Hell, she deserved more. They both did. And she has history – this year, these past couple of years – to remind her what the results of half-hearted, half-way actions bring.
She brushes these thoughts aside, as knows that they took a major step forward last night – in so many ways – but she also can sense that he is holding back. He's there with her, he's ready to jump in, but she senses he's still holding on to the life preserver.
"I don't blame you, Rick," she thinks again to herself. "I hurt you . . . so badly." She is again – not for the first time – shaking her head, thankful that he chose to run from her those months ago rather than stay and fight for her, or fight to hurt her back. He's not the kind of man to do something like that, she knows.
She need only look at the multi-million dollar complex he has built out here to ensure women don't have to fight.
"Earth to Kate," she hears the young woman next to her, and snaps out of her reverie. She had gone back to bed and slept another few hours until 10:30 – completely unheard of for her. When she came downstairs – the second time – Alexis was putting on running shoes ready to head outside. Running is something Alexis has taken up since moving out west. The views she gets while running through their Sausalito neighborhood are spectacular. Kate had asked to join her, so Alexis had let her borrow a scarf and gloves.
"Sorry, Alexis. What did you say?"
"I was just offering a penny for your thoughts. You seem far away."
"I was thinking about your dad."
"Oh."
And with that, they begin a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Kate knows that Alexis is wary of her, and she can't blame her. Obviously, one of the reasons – the main reason - she wanted to come out here was to see Rick, and to try to create something new with him. His departure had left a huge hole, a void that only presents itself when something – someone – is taken away.
The other reason was to see this project that had so totally grabbed ahold of him. He's been consumed by it, and she understands that single-minded focus. Yet, he has done all of this, and still has found time to let her in far more deeply, to be far more open with her than she ever has been with him. It is yet another reason she considers herself somewhat unworthy of him. And she knows if she even voices this opinion to him, he would vehemently disagree.
The third reason – of course - was to begin to repair the all-important relationship with his daughter. This has no illusions that this might be the toughest task of all – yet no less important than the other two. Martha had warned her that winning the young girl over would be far more difficult than her father. He was – at least at one point – head over heels over Beckett.
Alexis was . . . not.
"So, what about him?" she asks the detective.
"And, here we go," Kate thinks to herself, before responding. She's had a few video conversations with Alexis over the past month or so, but Castle had always been there. Whether intentional or not, his presence had served to somewhat moderate their discussions. The conversations had always been civil; they had always been safe.
"Where do I start?"
"Why don't you start with why you lied to dad in the hospital. Start with how you could even think - for a minute - that lying to him wasn't ripping his heart out!"
So much for safe. There is no venom in Alexis' words, no malice in her eyes. The sheer lack of both is highly unsettling. The words are delivered in an almost scary, matter-of-fact tone.
"It's complicated, Alexis –"
"No, it's really not."
Kate stares at the younger woman, then blows on her hot chocolate again as she recollects her thoughts, considering how to answer the question that – surprisingly – even he hasn't asked her yet.
"Alexis, I –"
"Do you know the one single agreement that dad and I have?" Alexis interrupts. "The one thing that has been our rock?"
"No, what is it?"
"No lying. Always tell the truth." Her gaze penetrates through Kate's defenses. This is going to be a long discussion. Long overdue.
"The one thing dad and I know is that the truth isn't always the easy road, but it's the only road for us," Alexis continues. "The one thing dad always drilled into me was that everything would always work out between us if we never had to worry if the other was telling the truth."
"You've never lied to your dad?" It's a statement more than a question.
"No. Well – there have been times where I have omitted certain things, but now I see that even those times were wrong."
With that, Kate puts the cup down, and rubs her hands together – still gathering her thoughts. She glances back at Alexis, and is met with a not unfriendly, but not welcoming stare.
"Sometimes, Alexis . . . sometimes the truth is too hard and just needs a little time."
Alexis nods her head, almost imperceptibly, and then shakes her head at Kate. There was a time when she kind of idolized this woman. She still likes her. She just doesn't trust her.
"Do you know what dad told me, a few years ago?" Her voice has lowered, to almost reverent tones as she draws back on a long-ago conversation with her father. Her eyes mist immediately – against her will – as she begins her story.
"I can't tell you how many times he has said this to me."
"Tell me."
"When sailors were at sea, in danger of losing their way, they found comfort, and hope, and direction, in the North Star. The North Star is the one star in the night sky that doesn't appear to change position. So sailors use it to help them navigate."
Beckett nods her head in agreement. She can almost hear Rick speak these words, so poetically. She wonders, while listening, if Alexis has memorized this speech from him verbatim.
"The North Star doesn't change. It is true, all the time. It is their True North."
Kate inwardly cringes at the metaphor while Alexis continues. If she is honest with herself, she absolutely expected to have this type of discussion out here on her trip. The surprise is that it is with Castle's teenage daughter, and not him.
"That's why the truth is so important," Alexis continues, pressing onward. "It becomes our solid ground. Our North Star. It becomes a voice that stays with us always. A voice that can be trusted, always."
The tears in Alexis' eyes startle Kate, almost as much as the tears forming in her own eyes. She picks up her cup of chocolate again. There is safety in its warmth. At least temporarily.
"Dad promised me he would always be that truth. He promised me that he would always be that North Star, that solid ground for me, that I could always trust," she half sobs, now starting to break down. She has no idea what Kate had been thinking about on their run through the neighborhood, but Alexis' thoughts were strong, and consistent. She was thinking about her North Star, her True North. She was thinking about how she had to protect – fight for – her North Star, because he would not fight for himself.
"That year, he asked me to be his North Star. He asked me to always be truthful with him – to be his solid ground. He told me that whether I was 15 or 50, my words would either be solid ground or quicksand for him."
Kate stares at her cup, the steam still rising from the top. She knows the words coming next – and damn if this girl isn't her father's daughter.
"You're quicksand for him, Detective Beckett. He loves you so much . . . so much . . . but you're not solid ground for him."
"That's not fair, Alexis," Kate states, interrupting Alexis' musings. This is getting out of hand too quickly. She has to regain some modicum of control here.
"This isn't about fair, Detective Beckett. That's what you don't seem to get. That's what you never seemed to get."
"What do you –"
"This is about truth. The truth isn't always fair. But neither is life. Dad says that when life is unfair, you have to have your North Star, your solid ground. If you don't have that, then you sink, you get swallowed up."
She stops for a moment, as she can tell that the older woman is listening to – and considering her words. She has to give the detective credit for that. So many other adults would brush off the ramblings of a teenager, but Kate Beckett appears to be weighing what she hears. And the tears in her eyes confirm this.
In her youthful, unknowing inexperience, Alexis continues onward, plunging the emotional dagger in more deeply.
The truth, detective, is that you can lie in a bed and lie to his face, and then let him walk out a door. I don't . . . I . . ."
Alexis stops, as she grabs for the scarf around her neck to dab at her eyes, wiping away her own tears.
"I like you Kate, I really do," the young girl continues, brushing a couple of strands of red hair away from her face. "I know your life hasn't been easy, I know this. I can't imagine how I would be if I lost dad, like you lost your mom. And that's the point. I can't just sit by and let dad waltz through the jungle into quicksand. It will kill him. It will . . . it will . . ."
She can't continue. Her eyes are starting to get puffy. Already? They've only been talking for a few minutes and they've already reached the waterfalls?
"What, Alexis," Kate offers, between sniffles of her own. "It will what?"
Alexis brings her gaze back to the older woman her dad loves, has tried not to love, but can't help but love. She wipes away another tear, and picks her penguin cup back up, holding it in both hands.
"It will turn him into you."
AN: A few things happening here, as you can tell. Castle is settling into his new reality with his shelter, and all that entails. This is a huge apple he has bitten into. He's about to find out how big. And occasionally, apples have had worms.
His daughter, on the other hand, is going into protect-the-castle mode. Alexis, for most of this story so far, has just been in the background, waiting in the wings so to speak. As a man who – for a few years – was a single dad with three children living with him, I can tell you that a daughter can get uber-protective about her dad, and cannot be swayed by logic, heart, or pretty much anything else.
More to come. Thank you all –again - for staying with the journey.