In Pieces

Chapter Twenty-One

"Run away, baby girl. Run while you still can."

Bullets ricocheted off walls at a rapid-fire pace, missing her by mere centimeters. A new wave made contact with her body, shredding into her skin like a knife through tissue paper, shattering bones, severing arteries, impaling vital organs.

Blood filled her mouth as she stumbled. She was dead, dying, expiring at the same rate that gravity pulled her clumsy frame toward the concrete. Blinding pain, a sickening lurch, and then—

THUD.

Alexis wheezed on the hardwood floor of her bedroom at the Hampton's house. The breath had been knocked out of her, and she jerked for a moment, her panicked brain forgetting how to draw in a breath, forgetting that she was safe, that her body hadn't been shredded into Swiss cheese by Benjamin and his guns. He was always packing in her nightmares.

With a sharp gasp, her lungs were wrenched open, and oxygen poured in. For a long string of seconds, Alexis lay on the floor, savoring the cool air that shuddered in and out of her lungs. Tears slid down the side of her face, wetting her hairline and dripping into her ears.

"It's not real," she told herself the same mantra every night. She rested her head in her hands as her racing heart caught up with reality. The empty, sick feeling from her dreams hadn't yet faded, and in that mindset, every setback was magnified. Alexis tried to calm herself, tried to remind herself that her feelings weren't real. It was just a nightmare. The result of too many theta waves, an unreliable sleep cycle, and more than her fair share of trauma. They weren't real. Her problems had a solution. She'd be fine. She'd survive, just like she always had. "It's not real."

For once, she'd love to wake up in her father's vacation house without having tossed herself out of her bed first. Sweat glued her pajamas to her overheated skin, and she wiped moisture from her face, a mix of tears and perspiration.

Alexis arranged her covers and crawled back into her bed. The soft mattress and thousand-count sheets were almost as nice as in the bed she'd had at Dimitri's penthouse. It both felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd slept in that other bed and like it had been just yesterday. Some morning she woke up disoriented, surprised to not find herself in that pretty bedroom. Surprised to wake to the scent of the ocean coming in through the windows rather than the fresh-cut flowers that had always been at her bedside.

With a sniff, she wiped her face again. Her heart was more a pitter-patter and less a sprint to the finish line. She listened to the silence of the house, punctuated only by the sounds of the ocean outside her windows. She hadn't woken Rick or Kevin, then. She must have woken up before the screams had started. Or maybe they'd just become so used to it that they'd slept through it.

Kevin, the man she maybe loved, the man whom she'd kissed just a matter of hours earlier, and Rick, the father she'd never known about, the friend who had asked her to share her testimony with the police. The only two people in her entire world who were unabashedly on her side.

A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes as she thought of Pi. Previously her only friend, the only person she'd been able to count on. Even though months had passed since he'd died. Even though he'd been buried by now. Even though she'd managed a half-coherent goodbye to him when Rick had generously given her best friend the funeral he deserved, the send-off she could never, ever hope to afford, Pi's absence in her life was still a wound that refused to heal.

She thought of him often, missed him with every breath, and dreamed about him more often than she would have liked. Alexis would take a hundred nightmares of Benjamin brutally murdering her before she'd take another dream in which Pi had never died. Another morning when reality crashed down on her as soon as she woke. She wiped at her face again, irritation flaring in her chest. Since the night she'd killed Benjamin, tears came more easily and more frequently. Every night, and several times a day. She hated it. She hated how weak she'd become.

Tears were a useless, human failing. They didn't help anything or solve any problems. If anything, they made her more vulnerable. She'd always heard that it takes twice as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart. She didn't have time for that. She needed to pull herself together.

She wrapped her arms tight around herself, doing everything she could to hold in the panic, the knowledge that her life was falling apart, had been falling apart for a long time, despite her every effort to regain control. She'd been too close to see everything unraveling.

Alexis sat up in bed, wiping her face again, her motions jerky and irritated. Her stomach felt hollow, her lungs felt close to collapsing, and hugging her ribcage, wrapping tight around her heart was that familiar ache of grief.

"It's n-not—" she tried, her voice cracking and squeaking out into a pathetic little hiccup. A fresh breath shuddered and stumbled its way down her throat, catching against her lungs.

There was a gentle knock at her door. "Alexis?" Kevin's voice was barely a whisper through her closed bedroom door.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, willing herself to suppress the desperate, animal whine that beat against her vocal cords. How had she not heard his awkward shuffle and limp down the hallway?

Her bedroom door cracked open. "Alexis? Are you okay?"

She hadn't wanted to wake him. But now that he was standing on the threshold of her bedroom, she realized how desperately she didn't want to be alone. Without Pi, she had no one. She barely had Kevin, had Rick on more of a technicality than anything else. She was so close to alone in the world, and the thought of it had her chest spasming with a fresh round of sobs.

The bed dipped down a bit, and Kevin's arms wrapped around her. She all but crawled into his lap, hugging him like he was the last lifeline she had in the entire world. He shushed her gently, rubbing his hands up and down her back, letting her soak his shirt in her tears, letting her chest heave and soundless sobs shudder against him as the weight of her trauma crashed over her.

Kevin shushed her, and gentle fingers combed through her hair and wrapped around the back of her neck, giving those tense, knotted muscles a light squeeze.

The pressure flicked an internal switch, and with a defeated whimper, she went boneless, relaxing in his embrace as dreaded emotion tore through her psyche. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to shed no more tears for her audience of one. God, he must think her so pathetic. It was as if fate was determined to show off the worst parts of her personality. Tension coiled across her shoulders, and his grip tightened for just a moment, his thumb and fingers lightly massaging those aching muscles and vertebrae. Her body ached to melt under his touch, but her mind wouldn't allow it.

"Shh. You're okay."

It was like this sometimes. More so now that she was in a relatively safe space and had more time to think. One moment she was going through the motions and living her life, and in the next moment, she felt like she would be crushed under that ache and longing. Stages of grief were for the birds.

"H-how did you s-survive this?" she managed, hiccuping as her chest spasmed.

"What do you mean?" he asked calmly, quietly, his arms still tight around her, holding her pieces together while she fell apart.

"With y-your wife. How…" she paused, trying like hell to make it through a single sentence without sniveling her way through it. "You lost her…" Words failed her again and she took another deep, shuddering breath. Her voice was pitchy and pathetic when she spoke again. "How did you live like this? Feeling like this?"

"It was the worst part of my life," he said simply.

"Worse than now?"

"The last few months have been a close second, but they don't compare to watching Jenny die."

"I miss him," she confessed. "He-he was my friend, and I won't e-ever see him again."

He hugged her a little tighter. "I didn't get to know Pi that well, but I know how much he loved you."

"I love him, too." She wiped her face. "Does it ever get better?"

He brushed the hair out of her face. "For the most part. It doesn't stop hurting. You won't stop missing him. But you learn to live with it. You learn to hold tight to the good memories. You learn to love them and miss them and feel happy all at the same time."

Alexis couldn't imagine ever holding her loss in one hand and happiness in the other, but she hoped that Kevin was right. "Kevin?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell me you'd been married?"

If Alexis thought about it all with 20/20 hindsight, then she should have picked up the clues along the way. She should have wondered why she was never allowed in his bedroom. She wondered if that was where he kept the evidence of his married life. She should have realized why there was makeup in the bathroom drawers and no female callers. There were so many small moments along the way, including all the sadness wrapped around him the night they'd met. So many reasons for her to pick up on the fact that he was mourning the end of a relationship. Perhaps something more.

"It's a piece of myself that I don't share lightly," he said. "I don't like the man I turn into when I think too much about that loss. And maybe it's a control thing, too. It's why I'm obsessed with health food. I didn't used to eat like that before Jenny got sick. I didn't used to have a lot of the habits I do now. I always had enough discipline, I think. But after losing her, I felt so out of control. I couldn't save her. I couldn't do a damn thing. And then there was the loss. The grief. The pain. That controlled me for a long time, too. And every little decision and habit and stringent plan helped me feel like maybe I was getting that control back. I know I've acted that way with you, too. I like feeling in control. But I guess that's only an illusion, right?

"I love her; part of me will always love her, I think. But now I'm trying allow myself to feel that loss. I guess I'm still learning to love her and miss her and give myself permission to be happy at the same time."

Alexis nodded against his chest.

"Plus," he added. "I didn't want your pity. I get enough of that from Castle and the rest. And the night we met… you didn't look at me like they did. Like I was broken or sad or some kind of wounded animal. And I liked that. I liked being known as some guy you picked up in a bar instead of a sad widower you met on his dead wife's birthday. He sighed. "I should have told you earlier. I'm sorry if I hurt you by keeping that close to my chest."

She shook her head. "As the resident secret-keeper, I don't think I have the right to be hurt about it."

He didn't disagree. His lips brushed over her cheekbone. "Tell me something real?"

"I don't pity you. And I don't think of you as a guy I picked up in a bar, either."

"How do you think of me?"

"Health nut. Clean freak. Die-hard Knicks fan. Stubborn ass." She counted on her fingers.

"How flattering," he deadpanned. He caught her hand and pressed his lips against each one of her fingertips. She faltered at that sensation. His lips brushed against her palm, and she was sure she could feel the shape of his smile. "What else?"

She felt her own lips curving upward. "Detective extraordinaire. Irish sweet-talker. . . . Man of my daydreams."

"I like the sound of that last one."

"I thought you might." She glanced up at him. "Are you happy, Kevin? Even with... " she trailed off.

"I think I'm as happy as I can be, considering our circumstances." He paused. "And considering the past few years, in this moment, I am pretty damn happy."

Her cheeks heated. In so many ways, this felt too good to be true. Kevin was here with her, close enough that she could feel him under her fingertips, close enough that his scent wrapped around her, comforting and intoxicating in equal measure. Despite the fact that she met him in a one-night stand, in this strange and wonderful second chance with him, they'd done nothing but kiss. And Alexis was surprisingly content with that arrangement—for now. But in the dim light of her bedroom, pressed against him as she was with her blood heating in her veins, she couldn't help but wonder if things were about to change. If they would cross the line into something more than a handful of kisses.

His dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. "I am." She found herself yawning, and she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Kevin."

"You're welcome." He didn't leave immediately, like she thought he might. "Do you… do you want me to stay?"

She lifted her head in surprise and he explained, "If your nightmares come back, maybe I can chase them away."

"I'd like that."

She invited him beneath her covers, savoring the heat of him that pressed into her body. It was just like the night they'd slept curled up together on his couch, all safety and warmth and comfort, and in almost no time at all, Alexis fell back to sleep.

She slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

Kevin slipped out of Alexis' bedroom early the next morning, intent on making coffee and breakfast. As he closed the door with a soft click, he turned and ran smack into Castle, who was heading up the stairs. The writer took one look at Kevin's bedhead and pajamas, then at his daughter's bedroom door, and his eyebrows raised in understanding.

Kevin didn't know how to respond at first. If Alexis was any other girl, there would be no conversation. Or when he did have a conversation with her father he wouldn't simultaneously be having a conversation with his best friend. He rubbed the back of his head. "We didn't, uh…" His voice was rough with sleep, and he cleared his throat. "Is this going to be a problem for you?"

Rick considered, then shook his head. "It's not my place. I don't get to make rules for this."

Kevin nodded. "Okay."

"But if you hurt her…"

"Come on, Castle. I think we both know that I'm the one voted most likely to get smashed to pieces."

Rick sighed. "You going to exercise?"

Kevin shook his head. "Breakfast."

The writer nodded, somehow looking older than he had before Kevin had run into him. "Knock when it's ready." Kevin watched as his friend returned to his bedroom.

Richard Castle had been laid to rest that morning. According to the headline news, there'd barely been enough of the writer left to fill a shoebox. His mother had arranged a gorgeous funeral. Fans, colleagues from the publishing industry, his ex-wife Gina, and half the twelfth precinct had attended the funeral. It had all but shut down traffic in Manhattan for the duration of the service.

Miles away, staring into his mug of coffee like it held answers, the real Richard Castle lived and breathed and was so, so tired.

Rick didn't know what to make of his situation, the strange and dangerous triangle that he, Ryan, and Alexis had landed in. In hiding, letting his mother and Kate take the brunt of their disappearance, of his presumed death. Rick knew he'd never be able to repay his mother for the role she'd been forced to play, the grieving, childless mother of a murdered billionaire. Surely she was being watched, if not by Dimitri's crew, then by the press.

Kate was pulling double-duty, keeping things afloat at the precinct with Ryan gone, maintaining the status quo so whoever was keeping tabs on the precinct wouldn't suspect her involvement. It was unsustainable, this holding pattern. Sooner or later, one side or the other would have to make a move.

Best-case scenario: Dimitri believed Rick was dead and thought Kevin skipped town to meet with Alexis. And in that most ideal scenario, the mobster would be content with his hacker and her last remaining weak spot disappearing in the wind.

Worst-case scenario: Dimitri had discovered the faked morgue reports and had pieced together their little hideaway plan. Worst-case scenario, Rick, Kevin, Alexis, Kate, Esposito, Lanie, Jim, and his mother all had targets on their backs.

Rick knew better than to count on the best-case scenario, but he was still foolish enough to hope that they could avoid the worst.

"Hi," Alexis said softly, interrupting Rick's quiet time with his coffee on the deck. He almost spilled it in his surprise.

"Good morning," he said, his voice a little rough with shock. "You scared me."

"Sorry. Can I sit?"

"Sure."

She took a seat in the wooden deck chair next to him. "I, um, I saw the funeral coverage. It was really nice service."

He snorted, then took a long sip from his cold mug of coffee. "It was the most morbid charade I've ever seen."

"Fair point. The older redheaded woman… Martha Rodgers. She's your mother?"

"For better or worse."

"So she's…" Alexis trailed off.

"Your grandmother."

Alexis nodded, like his answer was a confirmation she'd already seen coming. "What's she like?"

"Spirited." His lips quirked into a smile. "She's an actress. She's flighty and passionate and talented and smartass and… kind. And generous and fearless, in a lot of ways. She raised me by herself. I like to think she did a damn good job of it."

Alexis was quiet for a long string of seconds, mulling something over that he didn't yet understand. "I've been thinking about everything you told me yesterday."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah."

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about?"

"Sort of." She shook her head. "I mean… I just wanted to let you know that I've made up my mind."

"About what?"

"I um… I think I'd like to try the whole... having a family thing." She quickly added. "If that's really what you want."

For a moment, Rick was speechless. Her silence, the distance she'd been keeping between them since she'd found out the truth, they had all weighed on him. And twenty-one years late to the fathering game, he didn't know what right he really had to ask for anything more. When he'd laid it all out for her the day before, it had been a last-ditch effort to make some kind of connection. To help her understand that the ball was in her court. He'd give her whatever she asked, whether it was a relationship or estrangement. And like all the damning variables that kept them cooped up in a vacation house together, Rick had been preparing himself for a middle-of-the-road scenario. Maybe Alexis would take him up on his offer to pay for college, but beyond that she'd live her own separate life. The worst reality would involve her leaving him behind entirely, continuing to live a life of crime and squalor. The best-case scenario… that was one he'd been too afraid to give much thought. He wanted it too dearly, and he had exactly zero control over whether or not he'd get it. It was best not to get attached to that pipe dream.

His shocked silence must have dragged on for too long, because she continued, "And I'm willing to give my testimony. Soon. Today, if Kate would like. Whatever we need to put this behind us."

Just like that, the sweet became bitter. His elation fizzled a bit, but his lips stretched into a smile. "I'll let Beckett know. She'll arrange the recording and…. Hopefully we'll be able to make some progress."

Alexis nodded. "I'd like that."

He tentatively moved closed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Alexis."

Heat rose in her cheeks, but she wouldn't look at him. "Thank you."

"And I'm on your side, no matter what," he reminded her.

Something flashed in her eyes, but she nodded. "Okay."

Alexis sat at the kitchen island, her stomach in knots. Kevin sat next to her as she watched Rick call Kate's burner phone. This was it, the moment she'd been putting off since the night she'd met Kevin. Her interrogation was about to begin. The truth about everything, all the illegal things she'd done, would come out. And with a little luck, hopefully it would be enough to save Kevin and Rick from further harm.

"Hey, Beckett, we're—" Rick was cut off. "Wait, slow down, Kate. What happened?"

Hair began to rise on the back of Alexis' neck as she watched her father's face pale. "That's not possible," he insisted. "What evidence does he have?"

Alexis look at Kevin, but he had that crease between his eyes that told her something was wrong. Her heart began to thump toward a sprint.

"I'll talk to her. I— I don't know. No, no, I don't believe this." Rather than angry, Rick looked uncertain. Defeated. "Right. We'll keep a low profile. Um, let me know. I… No, this doesn't change anything, Kate!" His voice went sharp, and he stomped into the other room. Continuing the conversation. "You're not even listening to me!"

Alexis rested her face in her hands, a dreadful certainty taking root. Dimitri had made his play. And judging by Rick's reaction, she wouldn't like it.

"Hey, don't worry," Kevin began, but he was cut off as her father stomped back into the room. His face was tense, pale with red patches across his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot.

"What happened?" Kevin asked.

He tossed his phone onto the counter, several hundred dollars of plastic and technology smacking hard against the granite. Alexis flinched as she watched it skid into the toaster.

"Dimitri's come forward," her father answered. "He's gone straight to Beckett, and he's threatening to leak the story to the media if she doesn't comply."

"What story?" she gasped.

"He's going to tell everyone that you murdered Pi and Ryan was your accomplice."

Author's Note: Dun dun dun. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter and its various ups and downs. Please review!

For those interested, JJS4 and I have started posting chapters to a new Rylexis story called Bound. You can find the link in my profile. Here's the synopsis:

When Alexis and Kevin settle into a real relationship, their love is tested, their trust is broken, and they both learn that it's not so easy to live happily ever after. Sequel to Partnered.