I know I'm updating a lot in the last few days, but I'm super excited about the upcoming chapters. It's good stuff, in my humble opinion. And for those of you who are worried that Kate might not forgive Castle? Puh-lease. What kind of fan would I be if I didn't resolve this? Never fear...just give it time. When is anything easy with these two, anyway?
Please review!
The characters aren't mine, but the ideas are. So no stealing!
DEALING WITH IT
Castle entered the warehouse building on 42nd twenty minutes later feeling resigned. In just over twenty-four hours, if all went according to plan, this would be over. The resolution might not be positive, he was well aware of that fact. Markaway might kill him, but if he did they would catch it on tape and he wouldn't be able to weasel his way out of that one. He might not talk, or he might escape, but Castle didn't think that was likely. He might put a hit out on Castle, but if he did they would know. They had tapped all of his phones more than a week ago, even the burner cell he used to contact his mafia pals, the one he thought no one knew about. There were any number of possibilities, but Castle couldn't imagine one scenario that would include Kate Beckett letting this go.
"Back again, Mr. Castle?" a man in his early thirties asked from the desk, drawing Castle out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, Jimmy" said Castle, signing in. "Been one of those weeks, you know?"
"Must be, this is the third time in two days" said Jimmy with a smile. "Have fun in there."
"Sure" Castle scoffed harshly, then realized Jimmy had no idea what was going on and didn't deserve to be snapped at. "Thanks" he said more gently, giving the man a small apologetic smile and then heading down the hall.
Castle opened his locker and surveyed his choices. The Luger was his favorite, a 1938 model he had found in a pawn shop where some World War II veteran's family had sold it after his death. People just didn't appreciate history these days. The old man had probably taken the pistol off of a dead Nazi himself, and all his kids had wanted was whatever money they could get from selling it. But tonight wasn't a Luger kind of night, so Castle retrieved the .38 Smith and Wesson and a few clips and made his way onto the range.
Castle had been coming to the shooting range for years. He liked guns. He liked the way they felt in his hands, the firm smoothness of the metal, the insubstantial weight that held such deadly power. But up until the Scott Dunn case, shooting had always just been for fun. The hobby had come in handy when he hustled Beckett at the precinct range, a carefree time that seemed decades ago. Then the Dunn case happened, and he realized that he might just need the skills he had developed for laughs. Though he had told Beckett "I was aiming for his head" when he had shot the gun out of the stalking killer's hand, he hadn't been. Just another way to try and break the tension. After that night his trips to the range had taken a more serious note, and his efforts had only doubled after Kate was shot. He had gone so far as to get his concealed weapons permit three months ago, though he didn't often actually carry. It didn't seem wise, as a civilian, to take a loaded gun into a police station or, as the case had been tonight, an FBI office.
Castle emptied his clips methodically. Most of his shots landed in the ten ring, or just around it. Others clustered in the head of the silhouette, or the shoulder, each landing precisely where he had intended it to. Castle felt more confident, more relaxed, with the knowledge that if it came right down to it he could make a shot count.
Twenty minutes later Castle was back at his locker, quickly cleaning his .38 before putting it away. He hesitated, considering, before slipping a clip into his nine millimeter Colt, double-checking the safety, and slipping the handgun into the back waistband of his designer jeans and shrugging into his leather jacket.
Back outside in the cold breeze that always accompanied November nights in New York, Castle pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
"Hello Richard" said his mother brightly on the other end of the line. "Alexis!" Castle heard her call "Your father's on the phone, dear."
"Is she still awake?" Castle asked.
"Darling of course she is, it's only nine thirty" said Martha. "Boy you must've had a rough day, kiddo."
"You could certainly say that."
"I assume by the rather dejected tone I'm hearing that Beckett's attitude has not softened since last night" said Martha.
"Not at all" Castle replied. "She doesn't seem to be too mad at Esposito and Ryan, which is good. She's focused on the case and hating my guts, mostly."
Castle had sat down with his mother and daughter the previous evening after he had returned from talking to Beckett. He had explained, glossing over the gory details, the file that Montgomery had sent and the independent investigating he had been doing. He had left out Montgomery's involvement in the original case, that was information he would take to his grave. He had explained why he hadn't told them, then asked that they go to the Hampton's for a few days. They had not been thrilled.
"Do you have any idea how worried we have been about you?" his mother had snapped. "All these months thinking you were sick or depressed or suicidal or that something awful was going on…" she had continued the tirade for several minutes, ignoring Castle's insistence that the less they knew, the better. She had then preceded to lecture him on his decision to keep Kate out of this, again. "Have you forgotten what happened last time you did this? Did you learn nothing from that experience?"
Alexis had been mostly quiet, only expressing her concern that her father was in danger and asking him to come to the Hampton's with them. "I've gotta see this through, sweetie, I'm sorry. But I promise I'll be up there as soon as this is over." In the end, the two women had forgiven him and agreed to leave for the Hampton's the following morning.
Back in the present, Martha sighed. "Well, Richard, you knew that was going to be the case. You knew Kate would be angry with you, darling, just like she was the first time you poked into this without her. And you did ask her not to blame Kevin and Javier, if I recall."
"I know, Mother."
"How was your meeting with the FBI?"
"Fine, it was fine" said Castle, knowing better than to share the details of his potentially suicidal plan of action. "We should be through this in the next day or so."
"And then what?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what are you going to do when it's over?" Castle's mother asked firmly. "About Kate Beckett?"
"Mother" said Castle, irritated. "I'm not looking to talk on that right now. I know she's angry, I know she has every right to be. But if I had this to do over I wouldn't change a thing. She's getting the justice she needs and she has yet to get herself killed in the process, and if I have anything to say about it, she won't." Castle took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'll try to talk to her, but what happens next is really up to her."
"When did you grow up on me?" asked Martha, a slight teasing tone in her voice.
"When I had to, I guess" said Castle, still serious. He heard his mother sigh sadly, saying nothing. "Can I talk to Alexis?"
"Of course" said Martha. Castle heard her murmur something to his daughter. "Richard?" she said almost timidly. "I love you."
Castle swallowed hard, biting back tears. "Love you too, Mother."
Kate knocked softly on Lanie's door. She had wandered the streets for over an hour and had eventually ended up at the Old Haunt. Castle wasn't there, Brian had promised her, so she had a drink-free, as always- and then headed back into the dark streets. She had realized that she probably needed to talk to someone, or maybe just drink with someone. Her usual go-to person was out of the question. She couldn't call her father; she shuddered to think of the pain and worry this would cause him. She also didn't particularly want to talk to the boys at the moment. That had left only one person, so there she stood.
Lanie answered the door a moment later, dressed in black yoga pants and a gray t-shirt. She took one look at Kate and yelled over her shoulder. "Out!"
Esposito poked his head around the corner of where he had been standing in the kitchen. "What?" he asked, confused.
"Javier Esposito get your fine lookin' butt outta my apartment" Lanie said sternly, but with a playful edge to her voice. "My girl needs a drink and a good cry and she does not need you around to witness it."
Esposito made a face at Lanie, then looked at Kate and seemed to decide that he really didn't want to be around for this. "Uh, okay" he said, and grabbed his coat. "See ya later, Beckett" he murmured as he passed her in the doorway.
Esposito was no more than five feet down the hall when Lanie yanked Kate by the arm into her apartment, closed the door behind them, and pulled her to the sofa. Lanie gave Kate a shove, forcing her down onto the soft brown cushions, then headed back to the kitchen. She emerged moments later with a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, sitting them on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. "Start talkin'" she said as she poured two shots and handed one to Kate.
"How much do you know?"
"Javier told me last night what those boys had been up to. Sneakin' around with the FBI…" Lanie shook her head, her lips pursed.
Kate threw back her shot. "I don't really blame Esposito and Ryan…much."
"And Castle?"
''He knew how important this was to me, Lanie. He was the only person besides you who knew about the murder board in my apartment. The only person who understood how much I needed to solve this case. At least I thought he understood."
"I think he does" Lanie said softly, pouring two more shots. "I think the reason he re-opened the case in the first place was to give you some closure."
Kate stared. "This from the woman who called him, and I quote, 'the nosiest bastard on the planet' and said he was just like every writer who smells a story and has to chase it no matter what." Kate tossed back her second shot.
"Girl, I know what I said" Lanie countered. "But I changed my mind."
"Changed your mind?"
"Yes, honey, I'm allowed to do that." Lanie took Kate's hand. "Back then, all we knew about Castle was that he was a wiseass playboy writer. He was never serious. We knew the playboy from Page Six. But you and I both know that's not the real Rick Castle."
"Lanie…"
"Hush" said the M.E., squeezing Kate's hand slightly. "When he re-opened the case, I thought he was just being nosy and butting in where he didn't belong. But we got to know him, and I started to realize that underneath all that innuendo and immaturity is a good man, a man that actually does care about you. I think that's why he really started looking into the case. And that's why he did what he did this time around too."
"Are you saying you think he was right?"
"No. I think he should have had enough faith in you to come to you when he got that file and to trust that you wouldn't do anything stupid. But Kate you do have a tendency to jump into things without thinking them through where your mom's case is concerned. He was scared. Because he loves you."
"I swear if I have to hear that justification one more time-"
"Kate I know you're pissed at the man, but that does not make what I just said any less true. Writer Boy loves you, girl, and you love him."
"I-what…I do not…You're-"
"Right?" said Lanie, eyebrows raised in her best "you-know-I'm-right-so-just-admit-it" expression.
Kate sighed in defeat. She knew it was true, however much she wished it wasn't at that moment. "What am I supposed to do now, Lanie?"
"Right now" said Lanie, pouring Kate another shot. "You're gonna drink this" she handed the shot glass to Kate, who drained it. "Then you're gonna take those crazy ass heels off and lay down on my very comfortable couch and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning you're gonna get up and go meet your FBI people and Javier and Ryan and Castle, and you're gonna nail that son of a bitch who killed your mom." Lanie edged closer to Kate and used her thumb to wipe away the tears that had started to fall down her friend's cheeks. "You're gonna get closure, girl, and you're gonna cry and feel a little lost for a few days. But you're gonna deal with it, you're gonna get up and go back to work and kick ass just like always.
"Your mom's case is what made you become a cop" Lanie continued, "and it's what makes you such a great one. Bringing this bastard down is not gonna change who you are, you hear me?" Kate nodded and smiled weakly, tears still streaming unhindered down her cheeks. "As far as Castle goes…"Lanie chuckled and shook her head. "If I know you as well as I think I do, you'll be pissed at him, you'll kick him out of the precinct, again. He'll come back, again, and you'll pretend to be mad that he's there but you'll really by happy to see him. And after a while you two will work it out, again. And hopefully when you do you'll be naked this time."
"Lanie!" Kate scolded, but was unable to suppress a smile.
"I'm sorry, girl, but I don't know how you haven't jumped that man already. Especially now that he's all in shape, lookin' fine as hell…" Lanie gave Kate a disappointed look. "I lost a lot of money on you two."
Kate shook her head, knowing that her friend was right, about all of it. She was still mad at Castle, but she knew she would eventually get over it. No matter what Castle did, it seemed Kate couldn't stay mad at him for long. Because she knew deep down that everything he did he did out of love, however misguided his actions might be. And Kate did love him, even though she kind of hated him at the moment. She couldn't help it. Dammit.