Chapter 25: Peace Offerings And Piñatas
When Castle appears in the bullpen four and a half hours later, his face clean-shaven, his hair newly cut, a tray of take-out coffees and a large box of pastries in his hand, Kate isn't even that surprised. But her throat still closes up at the sight of him exiting the elevator.
It's such a familiar scene, five years worth of pictures preceding this new one; the bright blue shirt with the pinstripe jacket, the black leather sports coat and dark jeans, the red shirt and purple satin tie, the suits, the casuals, the costumes, and that black cashmere v-neck sweater that made her want to run her tongue all the way down his throat before dipping it into the pale hollow below his Adam's apple…she can remember them all.
Only today, he looks slightly tentative and hesitant beneath the layer of familiarity. But there is still an undeniable 'rightness' about his being here.
She watches him from her temporary desk, her 'Castle sixth sense' allowing her the privilege for a few quiet seconds before he is lost to the masses when hysteria breaks out. It begins with one hoot, and ripples through the bullpen like an aural Mexican wave. They all need this, after days and nights of worry and stress, long hours, cold beds, greasy take-out food, the drudgery of chasing down dead-end leads and taking countless fruitless statements and pointless hours of useless phone calls that led them precisely nowhere. They need this visual symbol of success.
Castle is their conquering hero, a man of extreme endurance, and he is justly greeted as such by the men and women of the Twelfth.
Kate's heart swells with pride just watching him accept their praise, applause and raucous welcome.
"I brought coffee," he says, when he finally reaches her desk, meeting her eyes and holding onto her gaze, attempting to add, "and donuts," above the din erupting all around them: whistles and shouts, noisy cheering, the food and drink suddenly removed from his hands so that more people can slap his back, hug him, shake his hand like the superman they see him to be.
"It's good to be back," he nods at the assembled crowd, smiling stiffly, and she alone can see the physical and emotional effort it's costing him to come back here so soon to thank them all.
The pain of the last days, of his ordeal, is still there in his eyes: a haunting. But there is more of him to see than before; undeniably there is more that is Castle.
Eventually, detectives and record keepers, secretaries and beat cops, drift back to their desks, leaving just their own close-knit little group gathered around him.
"Looking good, bro," says Esposito, giving Castle a one-armed hug. "Pants look a little loose though," he jokes, tugging on Castle's belt, which is drawn to the tightest notch Kate notes.
"Thanks, Espo," he says, slapping his friend's back. "The Jerry Tyson diet. Highly recommend it," he joshes, and Kate shakes her head in disbelief at his ability to joke about everything so soon after the event. It worries her a little too: how much he might be hiding or suppressing.
"You're sick, man," laughs Esposito, fist bumping him.
"Where's Ryan?" asks Castle, looking around for their compadre.
"Papa bear has a sonogram appointment with Jenny," Esposito informs him, grinning like a loon. "But he's gonna be so glad you're back, man. Place hasn't been the same without you, Castle."
Rachel nods at Castle from her desk; their earlier conversation at the loft all the exchange they need between them right now; their quiet understanding.
"Rick," she says, flashing him a quick salute of respect.
"Rach!" he replies, leaning over to high-five her. "You missed me too, right?" he jokes.
"Like a case of chicken pox," she throws back at him, giving him a wink.
"Ouch! That hurt," he rebuts, clutching his chest, feeling normality swirling around him like a magic blanket, doing him good.
Fake it 'til you make it, he tells himself, over and over again.
Finally, when all the brouhaha dies down, he turns back to Kate.
"You shaved," she says, quietly, when he comes over to hand her her own cup of coffee.
Her words unconsciously mirror his own words to her when they met for the first time in three months at her old apartment in front of Tyson - 'You cut your hair' - but she fails to notice, since all she's drinking in is the faintest essence of him that seems to have returned over the last several hours since she last saw him. Her fingers itch to touch his newly smooth, pale jaw. She presses her lips together in anticipation, imagining the sharp tang of his cologne, counterpointed against the softness of his naked skin.
"I read your letter," he replies, patting the breast pocket of his jacket to indicate that he has it with him, his eyes flicking back and forth over her features, as his fingers briefly caress hers during the coffee cup handover.
Kate shivers.
"Later?" she suggests, letting his words settle between them.
"Later," he nods in agreement, grateful for her understanding.
She's not pushing him, and he sees that, though for her to be the one to want to push is a new dynamic for them: a role reversal. This unbalancing of their careful, uneasy relationship construct takes some getting used to. She is usually the one who unconsciously holds the power. Castle is just learning that control can be gained by saying less instead of more, but his silence sits heavily on him, like a form of guilt. He's not used to withholding from her, but he is staying firm for now until he can decide what he wants for his own future first. The letter made her desires clear. His remain shrouded in pain.
"I think maybe you need to see this too," she tells him, offering up the note Tyson left addressed to her, since she knows its contents were bugging him this morning at the loft and she wants no more secrets between them.
"Break room?" suggests Castle, taking the Xerox'd copy from her outstretched hand, showing her that she is more important that any poison pen letter by holding off from reading it immediately.
"Uh, yeah. Good idea," she says, surprised at his willingness to be alone with her after his reluctance at home.
They stand, walk towards the empty break room together, making it inside this semi-private sanctuary without interruption for once. Rachel and Esposito watch them go.
"I'm not staying long," he says, watching her face closely for her reaction to his words. "I just wanted to let you know that I read the letter and…I heard you, Kate," he adds, after a long pause.
"I meant every word," begins Kate, taking a breath to say more, but he interrupts her.
"I…I don't doubt that you did. Here is not the place to talk about any of that…"
"Of course," echoes Kate, trying to keep things in perspective; that this is progress even if it seems so small.
"I made an appointment to see Carter Burke," he tells her, more brightly. "I don't know what you said to him, but it seems he had a sudden cancellation this evening at five," he adds, watching her face for signs of the string-pulling he knows she must have engaged in to get him squeezed in this quickly.
"Glad he could fit you in so soon," Kate replies, evenly.
"You're not going to tell me what you had to do to get me in that fast, are you?" he chuckles.
"I never reveal my sources, Castle. You know that," she jokes back, thinking that this feels close to old times, but knowing in truth that they are still far from that.
"Anyway, I wanted to thank you. And the guys, obviously, for all you've done so far."
"No thanks needed. You would have done the same for…"
Kate trails off, suddenly realizing that that is not a given between them anymore. She took his promise of 'always' and she tore it to shreds and threw it back in his face. Even her own old adage 'that's what partners do' doesn't quite ring true for them anymore.
"Well, anyway, as I said. No thanks needed," she adds, stiffly.
"Can I take this away with me?" he asks, holding up the Xerox of Tyson's note. "It's a copy, right?"
"Uh…yeah. Yes, it's a copy, so I guess. Yes, if you want to take it with you. I could see you wanted to read it earlier...at home. That's why I'm giving it to you. I don't want any more secrets between us, Castle. But let me just say one thing. I've read it, and as Jordan warned, you might not want that poison in your head right now. Maybe even save it until you're with Dr. Burke and read it with him."
"The note was for you," he states plainly, as if this will inure him to what's written inside.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean the contents won't affect you. We both know how Tyson works. This is psychological warfare to him. Just think about it before you rush headlong into reading it. That's all I'm saying."
"Thanks for the warning. But you know me, damn thing'll burn a hole in my pocket until I sit down and take a look at it," he tells her, smiling mildly, tucking the folded letter into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"You about ready to go? I could walk you out," she offers, a hopeful lift to her chin.
"How's the investigation going?" he asks, walking with her to the door, but not quite ready to leave. "I have to sit down with Agent Hernandez to give a statement first thing tomorrow. My version of events," he sighs, tiredness resurfacing to line his face.
"Necessary evil, I'm afraid," nods Kate. "He's a kidnapping specialist. Nice guy from what I can tell. You might want to make some notes if you haven't already—"
"Started?" he nods, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I have."
"Of course you have," she smiles back. "Shouldn't have expected anything less."
"Hammered the first three thousand words out on my laptop this morning. That's kind of why I'm here – needed a break from it."
"Is it helping? Being back?"
She knows he's been putting on a damn fine show until now.
"You have no idea what it means to be free until you're…not. So just being around people, normal life, buying coffee and donuts even if I had a cop tailing my every move… It felt good. Yeah. It's helping," he nods.
"I'm glad. You've been through such a lot. Don't underestimate it for a second. Finding your way back won't be easy, Castle. Be careful not to try running before you can walk."
"Says the woman who's in here working barely twelve hours after she was rescued," he points out dryly, giving her a look.
"This is my way of coping. You know that. Not to mention it's my job. But this is also my way of saying…" she pauses, gears herself up to tell him some of the things she needs to say with an intake of breath. "Rick, you are so—"
"Kate, no," warns Castle, shaking his head at her.
"I know I promised…after we get him. But, Castle, I need you to understand—" she says earnestly.
"I read your letter, Kate. Isn't that enough for now?"
"Is it enough for you?" she asks, looking up at him, her hazel eyes swirling with the need she has to make him see so many difficult truths.
"I think it is. In fact, it has to be. You walked away, Kate, and you didn't look back. Jerry Tyson accomplished what I couldn't. That fact alone is a special kind of torture to me."
"Believe me, I know, and I'm s—"
"You're sorry, I know," interrupts Castle, calmly.
Kate's hopeful expression fails her, and she gnaws on her lip, her nails digging half-moons into the flesh of her palms.
"I know this isn't what you want to hear from me, Kate. But it's all I've got right now. Let me sit with this for a while, your letter. Give me time to think, to figure out how I feel."
"Of course," she replies, keen to do anything he asks of her if it will help in any small way.
"I can't make any promises about how long that's likely to take," he warns.
"Castle, I, of all people, have no right to ask you to. We both know that."
"Good. So long as we're clear."
There's an awkward moment of silence while they simply regard one another, both so altered here in these familiar surroundings, before Kate speaks again.
"It's good to see you looking…better," she tells him, letting her eyes dance over his face again before he leaves, memorizing him.
"You didn't like the rugged, backwoodsman look?" he grins again, touching his own smooth jaw.
"Sorry," she grins back, shyly, looking down at her feet for a second.
"Beckett, you wound me," he teases back, eyes shining.
"I prefer the ruggedly handsome look," she risks telling him, a flash of heat warming her face and neck.
Castle chuckles and nods, the joke ultimately on him.
"To be serious for a second. I really hated that beard," she confesses. "It reminded me too much of what he did to you," she admits, her expression growing pained. "We don't need reminders."
"True," nods Castle, sagely. "Still, we're both in the same city and we're talking again, if you're looking for a silver lining," he offers, with a shrug.
Kate lets out a small startled laugh, tears suddenly springing to her eyes, and then a sob catches in her throat, everything - memories, disappointments and emotions - overwhelming her.
"What?" asks Castle, hurriedly pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to her before anyone sees her. "What did I say?"
"I don't know how you do it?" sniffs Kate, her fingers shaking as she dabs at her eyes. "Joke about everything. This soon. You amaze me sometimes."
"Just sometimes?" he asks, and if she wasn't so consumed by disappointment right now, she'd swear Castle was flirting with her a little.
She finds her cheeks warming up again and she's at a loss for how to reply.
"Anyway," says Castle, ending the moment for her by clearing his throat. "I should probably go," he tells her, scuffing his toe on the dirty floor tile. "Bob said he'd wait for me down by the front desk. But I think he suspects I plan on giving him the slip by escaping out the back way."
"Bob?" smiles Kate, handing him back his handkerchief.
"Officer Robert Torres to you. Nice guy. Doesn't like donuts though," he frowns, squinting his eyes comically.
"Oh, never trust a cop who doesn't like donuts," smiles Kate, shaking her head, her eyes still watery.
"My thoughts exactly, Detec— Actually, what is your title now?"
Kate sucks in a breath, just about to begin the long explanation about her job in D.C. and the way that she left, when…
"Mr. Castle!"
The deep, singsong voice of Captain Gates catches them, freezing them both to the spot inside the break room doorway.
"Sir?" says Castle, turning stiffly to address Victoria Gates.
She looks at him for a moment, eyes narrowed, taking in the jeans that hang looser around his waist, the open-neck shirt that fails to conceal the dark bruise at the base of his throat, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the black jacket whose shoulder pads seem to collapse inwards slightly at the top of his arms, the overall effect swamping him slightly; like a boy wearing his older brother's clothes.
"It's good to see you again," she nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "Welcome back."
And Kate thinks that maybe they will be lucky for once, that she will stop right there and leave them in peace. But they have no such luck today.
"I'd like a word, please? My office. You too Beckett," she adds, turning on her heel and expecting them both to follow.
"Ladies first," mutters Castle, and Kate catches just the barest glimpse of the humor she knows so well flashing in her partner's eyes again.
"Too kind," she mutters back, walking ahead of him into the lioness' den.
"Please, take a seat," says Gates, indicating the two chairs in front of her desk.
She jumps right in without further preamble.
"I already spoke to your partner this morning and I will say the same thing to you now. No way are you working this case, Mr. Castle. You are the victim here, whether you like it or not. Now, Kate is in a slightly different position, and so I've agreed that—"
"Sorry. Can I just stop you for a second?" interrupts Castle, holding up his hand, earning himself a stiffly arched eyebrow from Gates in the process. "I'm not staying. I'm merely passing through, Sir. No need to worry."
"Well, good," replies Gates, clearly put on the back foot by this piece of information, geared up as she was to have another fight on her hands. "I'm glad we finally agree on something."
"I had the locks changed at home this morning and I wanted to drop a set of keys off for Kate and thank the guys for everything they've done for me and my family recently. You too, obviously. I really appreciate it."
"Keys? Right," nods Gates, her smile tight. "And you're very welcome."
"So, I will be out of your hair. Let you get back to it," he tells her, standing abruptly, leaving her luffing in the doldrums, the wind having been knocked completely out of her sails.
Gates isn't used to Castle being this cooperative or this disinterested in the details of a case for that matter, and it makes her uneasy and somewhat suspicious.
"I'll walk you out," offers Kate, hurrying to leave the Captain's office before she asks them anything further.
Rachel calls her over, as they are about to pass close to her old desk.
"Didn't Jessie Calman say she had a sister?"
"Uh…yeah. She said that…that her sister came to stay with her and that's why Tyson moved out."
"Are you thinking…?" asks Rachel, watching Kate's eyes light up.
"Jessie needs a place to go. A safe place…" replies Kate, beginning to nod.
"Somewhere away from Tyson," chips in Castle.
"Or maybe even with Tyson," points out Kate, unconsciously gripping Castle's forearm as they turn to face one another.
"And he needs money, maybe he changes his appearance again…" Castle suggests.
"Because he knows the police are out looking for him," fires back Kate.
"So he needs to drop out of sight for a while…somewhere no one would think to look for him," replies Castle.
"Somewhere his employer, the bank, the IRS wouldn't know about, somewhere unconnected to him entirely…" parries Kate. "The sister's place could be perfect," she says, nodding.
"But if Tyson is cleaning up, both women could be in danger," Castle points out.
"We need to get her name and address," replies Kate, nodding in time with Castle.
"Hospital might have her listed as next of kin if she's unmarried," Castle suggests.
"Good call," agrees Kate, letting go of his arm as they both run out of steam and stare down at where her hand has just been lying on top of his sleeve.
"See!" laughs Esposito, pointing at Rachel. "Told you it was freaky!"
Kate and Castle look at one another without embarrassment, a frisson from their past passing through both of them at the thrill they still get from working together, at how good at it they can still be.
"You sure you don't want to stick around and help?" asks Rachel, giving him a cheeky grin.
"And work with both of you?" asks Castle, still masking his exhaustion well. "I think I'll pass on that particular piñata," he laughs.
"You're soft, Rick Castle!" Rachel yells after him, as he gives her a departing wave and heads for the elevators with Kate by his side.
"That felt…"
"Odd?" asks Castle, smiling down at Kate.
"I was going to say familiar," she tells him, her smile fainter and more tightlipped than his.
"How about we settle on oddly familiar then?" he adds, kindly.
"The art of compromise?" asks Kate. "I can live with that."
"Oh, here. Before I forget. Your keys," he says, fishing in his pocket before handing her a shiny new set.
Kate looks surprised.
"You weren't planning on staying?" asks Castle, his expression and voice both pointing towards his disappointment if that turns out to be the case.
"What?" asks Kate, half-listening, turning the keyfob over in her hand, admiring the shiny newness of the keys.
"Lanie?" he asks, clearly assuming she has decided to move out.
"Lanie? What? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just…I thought you were throwing Gates a line about your reason for visiting. I thought the keys were just a… Never mind," she adds, stopping short from using the word 'excuse'.
"They were part of the reason for my visit," Castle tells her, sensing her disappointment. "But I also wanted to see you," he tells her truthfully.
"Thank you," she nods, lifting her hand. "For these too. I won't let them out of my sight."
"See you later then?"
"I'll call. I'm not sure when I'll be back. Good luck with Burke. I hope he can help you. You're putting on a great show, Castle," she tells him, her own honesty matching his. "But you know…you know you don't have to do that for my sake," she promises him.
"You always were too smart for your own good."
"And too blind at times too," she adds, ruefully. "Take care. I'll call you as soon as we get anything."
She presses the lift call button and the doors open immediately. Castle steps inside and turns around to face her, his hands hanging down by his sides.
"I would, you know," he says, as he waits for the doors to close.
"You would?" asks Kate, frowning and shaking her head in puzzlement, not understanding what he means.
"I would have done the same for you, just for the record," he nods, as the doors slide closed, leaving Kate standing, staring, and wishing more than anything that she could travel back in time to unravel the painful, complicated mess she's made for both of them.
A/N: I will let you read both letters in time, don't worry. Kate's was written on her plane ride up from D.C. in chapter 2, for those of you who forgot. She wrote the letter in response to the one Castle sent her, the one she never opened until she read it on the flight.
And before people accuse Castle of being too glib and light-hearted in this chapter, I'd ask you just to hang on and see the whole thing through.