Laser Tagged
By Dana Keylits
Chapter Fourteen
It had been ten days.
Ten days since her last drink.
Alexis was feeling better, stronger, less like she was walking on shifting sand, as each long day turned to night. She wouldn't deny that there had been times when she'd desperately wanted to take a drink, even telling herself she could have just a sip; that there had even been temptations, very tempting temptations. But, she'd only had to think of the misery that that alternate universe of a life had caused her, had caused the people she loved, and she was able to resist.
More importantly, she was learning that every time she resisted, every time she passed by an opportunity to drink, it became easier and easier to pass up.
She'd noticed her father relaxing more as well. In fact, the other night when she'd walked in on him and Beckett sharing a quiet moment on the couch, each of them holding a glass of red wine, he didn't flinch or try to hide the glass. He was beginning to trust her more.
For that, she was truly grateful.
And, through it all, she'd discovered who her truest friends were, and it had turned out that none of the girls she'd befriended from her dorm were that. But, Max was. Max was becoming important to her, spending time with her, even accompanying her to meetings, learning what it meant for her to be sober. And, although he could drink, time and again, he chose not to.
It thrilled her to think about what a future with him might look like. Not that she was focused on that right now, but knowing that it could be around the corner, once she got her life together, provided her with an immense feeing of solace and simple joy.
The date for the hearing was coming up and her dad was far more nervous than she was. She was prepared to tell her story, all of it. She needed to tell it, as though she couldn't move on without getting it out, without confronting Peter, without having her say. The prosecutor had spent hours prepping her for her testimony, and for the possible questions the defense would throw at her. At one point during the meeting, she'd noticed her father slip out of the mock courtroom. The accusations and intimations of her drinking, using drugs, and sexual exploits had become quite detailed and explicit during the fake cross-examination. Clearly, her father couldn't handle it, and Alexis had visibly winced when she saw how much this was hurting him. She was learning to forgive herself, but it was hard, so hard, seeing how much her behavior had affected him.
Kate had followed him out of the room and they'd remained in the hallway during the rest of her preparation. At dinner that night, Beckett had confided in Alexis that it had taken every ounce of restraint for her dad to not jump over the railing separating the gallery from the mock courtroom and throttle the prosecutor.
Alexis was beginning to think that maybe it would be a good idea for him to skip the trial. She didn't want to see her dad winding up in jail because he couldn't keep his temper in check.
She smiled at the thought, not that she was happy that he was upset, just happy that he cared so much about her. She had never, not once in her life, doubted how much her father loved her. She'd doubted her mothers affection all the time, Meredith had never been that interested in being a mother, but Alexis had never been moved to wonder about her dad's parental affections.
He had always been her constant, her one true light.
She checked her outfit in the mirror, a pair of skinny jeans paired with a wispy, cream colored t-shirt and ballet slippers, and smiled at her bright reflection. Then she headed downstairs for breakfast. It smelled like someone was cooking bacon, probably Kate, and her stomach rumbled loudly in anticipation.
But, when she got to the bottom of the stairs she stopped in her tracks, horrified.
"What are you doing here?" Alexis asked, walking straight up to her former friend. Sheila Forstrom was standing next to Kate, who had just let her into the loft. "I don't want to see you."
"Alexis, she's here to see me," Kate explained, looking at Castle's daughter apologetically.
"Actually, both of you," Sheila explained, and then glanced over at Castle who was still standing in the kitchen. "Really, all of you," she clarified.
"You've already explained yourself, you've already apologized. I don't need to hear anything else," Alexis barked.
"Honey," Castle interjected, walking around the counter to join the three of them in the foyer.
"No. I'm sorry. I'm working on forgiving you, Sheila, hell, I'm working on forgiving myself. But that doesn't mean we're ever going to be friends, and it doesn't mean I care to hear what you have to say."
"He raped me." Sheila blurted.
They all looked at her, stunned. Kate reacted first.
"When?" She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the girls forearm. "When?"
"At the beginning of the semester." Sheila replied, bursting into tears.
Alexis felt horrible. "God, Sheila. I'm so, I'm so sorry." She wrinkled her forehead. "But, if you knew he..." she paused, a burst of anger flaring up. "If you knew he was capable of that, why did you help him drug me? He could have..." She immediately regretted her words. Even though it was a legitimate question, now wasn't the time.
Her face hidden behind her hands, the up and down of her shoulders and strangled cries rising from her throat, were ample evidence of the pain Sheila was in. Kate led her by the shoulders to the couch, rubbing her back, offering quiet reassurances that she would be okay, that it would be alright. She motioned at Castle to get a glass of water, then sat on the coffee table opposite the girl, her hand resting on Sheila's knee. "Sheila, tell me what happened."
Alexis sat on the couch, an arms length from Sheila, genuine concern etched on her face. Her flash of anger gone as quickly as it had arrived as Sheila's news sank in. That could have been me. Alexis thought, and although she was still struggling to forgive Sheila, she couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
When Castle returned with the glass of water, Sheila gratefully accepted it, and then regarded the three of them with bloodshot eyes, her mascara a trail of wicked lines running down her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered, before taking a tentative sip of the water. "I haven't told anyone that before, and it just, I just, I didn't know I'd react like that." She pulled a tissue from the box Castle was holding in front of her and blew her nose. She took another and took a swipe at her eyes, effectively smearing the mascara around her cheeks rather than wiping it off.
"It's okay, Sheila," Kate reassured. She glanced up to gauge Castle's reaction and was relieved to see his face was nothing but a mask of sympathy. She turned back to Sheila, leaning empathetically towards her. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"God, that poor child," Castle mumbled, toeing off his shoes and frowning at Beckett.
Kate had already retired to the bedroom and was curled up in bed like an indolent cat, an open book in her hands, The Marriage of True Minds by Stephen Evans. She had been thinking that someone needed to turn the novel into a film when Castle had loped into the room, looking disconsolate and testy.
"She's got a tough road ahead of her," Kate agreed.
"Ya think?" Castle replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
Kate rolled onto her back and sat up against the pillows. She turned the book over and laid it in her lap, the covers splayed out like a tent to keep her page. "What's going on?"
He was standing at the bureau, his back to her. He took off his watch and laid it on top of the dresser, then unbuttoned his shirt as he turned to stare at her. "Nothing. I'm just, I feel bad for her."
"And?" Kate asked, knowing full well there was something else playing on his mind, she could see it mapped all over his face, the familiar worry lines popping up on his forehead like an accordion, his lips pursed tightly, his inability to make eye contact with her.
"And, nothing," He barked.
"Castle."
He exhaled loudly, dropping his arms to his sides and then raised one hand to knead his forehead as though he had a pounding headache. He stood like that for several seconds, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely from his shoulders, the top button of his jeans undone. He finally shrugged the shirt off and threw it on the chair in the corner of the room. "I feel terrible for the kid, I do, no woman deserves what happened to her. But, I still feel, I just feel, I don't know." He struggled to find the right word.
Kate just waited, her hands folded patiently in her lap. Her long hair fell loosely around her shoulders, one side tucked behind her ear. She raised her eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on.
"I feel really bipolar about the whole thing, Kate. And, I feel terrible for feeling that way."
Kate raised her eyebrows even higher. "You mean, like she deserved it?"
"No! God no. Not that. It's just, she hurt Alexis, Kate. And, what happened to her could have happened to Alexis. I can't stop thinking about that. Every detail of her story was so similar to Alexis', except, you know, for the actual rape part of it." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "But, I blame her for what did happen to Alexis." He dropped his hand to lie at his side and took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully through puffed up cheeks before finishing. "And, I feel guilty for thinking that, especially after everything she told us tonight. She was as much of a victim as Alexis was."
Kate cocked her head sympathetically and patted the comforter beside her. Castle paused, then crossed the room and sat on the bed, his body weight shifting the mattress, causing Kate to lean slightly towards him. She reach out and curled her fingers around his ear, her thumb mapping the shell of it, before raking them through his hair, leaving a path of tousled hair in her wake. "You're a good man, Richard Castle."
He tucked his chin, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "What?"
She angled towards him and kissed his lips softly, then stared into his baby blues, her eyes drifting from one to the other as a sweet smile curved her lips. "That you are struggling with dichotomous feelings about Sheila proves that you're not an ass, Castle. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Of course you've got mixed emotions about the girl. It's perfectly normal. I'd kind of be worried if you didn't!"
"Really?" He asked, leaning into her hand as she caressed his cheek.
She kissed him again. "Really."
He smiled at her, visibly relaxing, the blue of his iris' sparkled with the soft light of the bedside lamp. The familiar playful crinkles cornered his eyes, and he took her hand in his. "Thank you, Kate."
She nodded, squeezing his fingers. "Always."
This time her lips lingered as she kissed him, her tongue darting out to skim his bottom lip as her fingers deftly mapped the lines of his face and throat. He curled one hand behind her neck, pulling her closer as he scooted his butt towards her on the mattress. Their tongues met, weaving and dancing from his mouth to hers, a curious exploration, as though it were their first kiss. Kate let her fingers travel inquisitively down his chest, lightly brushing through the curls of hair there before strumming the ladder of his ribcage, roaming over the soft pouch of his abdomen, then landing on the zipper of his jeans. He groaned against her mouth as she grasped the tongue of his zipper and tugged.
"Mmmm, Beckett, you're entering dangerous territory here."
She smiled, leaning back to look into his eyes. "Good. You know how much I love flirting with danger."
"Almost as much as you love flirting with me?"
She chuckled. "Exactly." Then she captured his mouth in a frenzied, unbridled kiss as they reclined on the bed, their hands and lips and bodies taking control, soon moving like a well-rehearsed tango. The few items of clothing between them were hastily discarded, unceremoniously tossed to the floor as though they could no longer abide their presence, and they coiled their bodies around each other, their hips rolling in a passionate but metronomic rhythm. Castle explored every line and curve and soft angle of Kate's body, his hands kneading and tickling her tepid skin. She wrapped her legs around his middle as they rocked, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his deliciously rounded bottom.
And, within minutes, Kate was crying out, his name spilling from her lips, echoing around the darkened high-ceilinged room, her body rocking in wave after wave of unadulterated pleasure. Soon after, it was his turn, Kate gripping him tightly as he shuddered and moaned above her, eventually his hips slowing down, then stopping as he struggled to collect his breath. He collapsed beside her on the bed, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and reached for her hand, grasping it tightly.
"Whoa," he whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah," she agreed.
"That was," he began.
"Awesome," she finished.
Kate rolled to her side, Castle spooning her as he pulled the sheet over their spent naked bodies. He kissed the shell of her ear and laced his fingers with hers, closing his eyes when his lids grew heavy with sleep.
She brought their joined hands up to her chest and snuggled back against him, comforted by his warm body as it hummed against hers. She kissed the back of his hand. "Goodnight, Castle."
"Mmmm," he replied, sleep already overtaking him. He whispered before nodding off, "I love you, Kate."
Her lips bowed. "I love you, too," she replied, and then drifted blissfully off to sleep, carried there by the absolute certainty that she was at the right place, at the right time, with the right person.
And, so was he.
It was hearing day, and Castle was a bundle of nerves, pacing back and forth in the hallway of the courthouse like a caged lion; an angry, large-maned, alpha-male lion. Kate was doing everything in her repertoire to calm him, even suggesting he take a sedative, before he finally sat on a bench and put his head in his hands. But, it wasn't long before his knee started jumping and, unable to corral the nervous energy pent up inside of him, he was back to pacing back and forth in front of the massive mahogany courtroom door. Kate watched patiently from her seat across from him, occasionally checking her watch as the hearing time drew closer.
Sheila Forstrom and her parents had arrived an hour earlier, the prosecutor wanting to meet with her one more time to go over her amended testimony. This included her allegations of rape, for which Peter would be arrested by the end of the day if the SVU completed their investigation in time. Because these new allegations were going to be included in the testimony today, they'd had to disclose the information to the defense team. Kate was sure they'd want to plea, given the damning testimony, but they'd chosen not to, deciding to forge ahead with the hearing, hoping to discredit Sheila and Alexis before the eyes of the court.
This was part of the reason Castle was so nervous. He was concerned for Alexis, but now for Sheila as well. He knew what could happen, how the defense could tear her down, make her sound crazy or unreliable, or more likely, like a promiscuous hanger-on. He didn't want that, for either of them.
After Sheila had told them her story, Kate had convinced her to go to the police and to tell her parents, in whom she hadn't yet confided. Kate drove her to the police station, and sat with her while she met with detectives from the special victims unit. Then, she helped her make the phone call to her parents, who lived in Connecticut, and held her hand as she tearfully told them the story. They were understandably upset that she hadn't told them sooner, and insisted they would drive into the city the very next morning. They wanted to be with her when she testified at the hearing, and to help her decide whether she wanted to stay at school or not. Kate got the distinct impression they were planning to take her back to Connecticut with them. Given the circumstances, Kate thought it might not be the worst idea in the world.
Alexis still hadn't arrived at the courthouse. She'd insisted on getting there on her own, despite her fathers protests to the contrary, but now she was running late. She had wanted to start the day by attending a meeting with Sky, who was leaving on a month-long tour that afternoon and so this would be the last time they could see each other before the band's bus pulled out for the road.
Kate glanced at her watch again; feeling contaminated by Castle's nervous energy, and frowned. She was about to suggest they call Alexis, when she heard the unmistakable click of heels against polished marble floor approaching them.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Alexis breathlessly apologized. "I hope I didn't worry you?"
"No, not at all, honey," Castle lied, sliding his arm over her shoulder and kissing her on top of her ginger-haired head. "We're all good, just fine, no worries, how are you? Okay? How was the meeting? You don't have to tell me. Are you ready? How do you feel? Nervous? Did you eat? Do you want some coffee? I'm a little nervous."
"Dad!"
"Hmmm?"
"Stop. Breathe. Everything will be okay," Alexis reassured him, pulling up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "No matter what happens. I'm okay. Okay?"
He jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, exhaling slowly. "Okay," he tentatively agreed. "Right. Okay."
"Alexis, you look lovely," Kate observed.
"Oh," Alexis replied, looking down at her outfit. She'd settled on a simple black business suit with a green oxford shirt and black flats. She wore her hair in a long ponytail down her back. "Thank you. The prosecutor said I should dress conservatively."
"Well, you did a fine job."
Alexis nodded. "Thanks."
"So," the prosecutor interrupted, his booming voice echoing off the walls of the long hallway as he approached the trio. "...is everyone ready? We can go in now." Sheila and her parents were trailing behind the large man; he was easily 6 foot 4 and almost as round. Alexis nodded at the girl, smiling. Sheila nodded back, then quickly averted her remorse-filled eyes as though she still could not forgive herself for her part in the Facebook prank against Alexis.
In an attempt to reassure Sheila, Alexis reached out and touched her elbow. "Thank you for testifying today. For telling the truth. I doubt he'd ever have to face up to what he did if it weren't for you."
"If it weren't for me, this might not have happened," Sheila replied.
"He'd have just gotten someone else to do it. The way I figure it, if you hadn't come looking for me that morning, I might have died in my bed. I can't forget your part in it, Sheila, but I understand it, and I've forgiven you."
Everyone stopped to look at Alexis, including the prosecutor.
"I don't know what to say," Sheila replied, her eyes brimming with tears.
"It's okay," Alexis answered, shaking her head. "You don't have to say anything." She jutted her chin towards the now open courtroom doors. "What you're doing here today, says enough."
Castle and Kate exchanged glances, he proud, she relieved, and then followed the prosecutor, Alexis, Sheila and her parents through the door.
The place was packed. Sitting behind Peter Marshall, who was already seated at the defense table, were his parents, and a slew of what were undoubtedly his friends. Some of whom Castle recognized from Alexis' dorm. They began pointing and staring at the two girls, whispering to each other and laughing. Castle's face grew crimson with rage and he wanted to strangle each and every one of them. He looked at Alexis whose face was as white as a sheet.
"Honey? Are you okay?" He asked, putting his arm around her shoulders.
"Ah, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Except," She covered her mouth with her hand and turned to Kate in horror. "I think I might be sick."
She wriggled away from beneath her father's protective arm, turned suddenly on her heel, and ran out of the courtroom.
The laughter coming from the gallery was nothing more than white noise buzzing in Castle's ears as he and Kate ran after her. When they got to the hallway, they saw her push her way into the ladies room. Kate turned to Castle, smoothing his tie with the palm of her hand. "I'll go check on her. Wait here."
Castle waited.
And, waited.
And then began pacing back and forth again, chewing on his thumbnail, his feet following some imaginary ten foot looping path in front of the ladies room at the municipal courthouse.
He wanted to strangle someone. He wanted to march into that courtroom and strangle Peter Marshall, make him pay for every bit of misery he'd ever caused his little girl. But, he knew that would get them nowhere. That would make things much, much worse.
So, instead, he paced.
A/N: So, I said before there was only one chapter left. I was wrong. Looks like there were two! :-) Sometimes that happens. I'm already working on it, hope to have it updated very soon. Thank you so much for reading and for all of your lovely reviews, follows, and favorites. I really appreciate it.