I don't own Castle.

Title: Elektra

Rating: T+

Description: When he walked into the 12th Precinct, he expected dead bodies, paperwork, and a fresh start. What young Detective Richard Rodgers was not expecting, however, was his new partner, Detective Kate Beckett. Caskett/AU.

Chapter 25 – "Someone Always Has to Die"

By the time Rick was to the second floor, he was already woozy from the amount of smoke he was breathing.

Residents of the building were scrambling by him, shoving him and yelling when he didn't turn around and run with the herd.

He had someone to find.

The fire overtook everything in its path. The once obnoxious red floral carpet was now ruined from trampling feet, fire, and smoke. He ducked under a fallen panel and jogged down the hall to reach Kate's apartment.

The door was leaning on the opposite wall, the explosion sending it flying backwards.

He wondered if he would even find her body.

"Kate?" he asked with fear lacing his voice. He stepped over rumble in the front door and the sight in front of him had him gagging. The couch he had thrown the wine bottle on just two nights before was on fire, the flames reaching the ceiling. The kitchen area was smoldering, smoke black as night. The floor under his feet was a pile of destruction and hopelessness.

"Kate!" he called, looking to the back of the room. There were two door firmly attached – the bathroom and her bedroom. He jogged to the bathroom when something fell heavily on the other side. "Kate!"

He tried to open the door but it didn't budge. He jiggled the handle and then grunted, backing up. He took a couple of steps and rammed his shoulder into it. The hinges snapped and he tumbled inside the room. There was a shriek and he looked up, blowing away the dust that was covering his vision. In front of him stood a naked Kate Beckett, smudged and dirty and beautiful.

And alive. So, so alive.

She gasped and crouched back down into the tub. "Don't look at me!" she said.

"Why?" he asked. He struggled to his feet, stumbling when he finally stood. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

She turned her head just enough to glare at him but her hands remained in front of the parts she didn't want him to see. Instead of answering she reached out a hand. "Hand me a towel, Castle."

Castle, he thought. At least there was some normalcy left in their relationship. Maybe something could still be salvaged. He looked over to the towel rack, thinking about how he had pulled one of them into the shower for her after he had finished "scrubbing her back."

"Uh," he said, "the towels are on fire."

She huffed. "My robe?"

He turned around.

"On fire."

"Hand me your coat then."

"Oh, right." He shrugged off his coat, reaching behind his back to give it to her. The tub squeaked as she pulled the coat on. When he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he finally looked over to her. Her hair was pulled back, long strands falling out of the bun. Her pupils were dilated and there was a long cut stretching up her cheek. She had smudges all over from the smoke and ash of her ruined apartment.

Gently, he took her hand and helped her from the tub.

"Easy," he said as she hissed in pain.

"I'm fine," she replied stubbornly.

They were halfway across the bathroom when Rick looked down to her bare feet. Her living room was littered with broken glass, burning pieces of furniture, and other mysterious items. He said, "You can't walk across that room."

She glanced down at her own feet and winced. "Are you offering to carry me?" she replied with a smirk. "Because that would be highly inappropriate."

He couldn't tell if she was being suggestive, sarcastic, hopeful, or a combination of all three.

"I'll carry you to the front entrance," he suggested. "That way, hopefully no one will see."

He saw her swallow and then looked at him. "That's fine," she muttered and took a deep breath. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he bent down, sliding his hands under her knees. He lifted her up and immediately, she rested her head on his chest.

As he made his way across the room, he could feel Kate's breath through his t-shirt. It was hot and he could feel wetness leaking through as well. She was crying.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he told her.

He heard her sniffle, the tears ceasing.

At the door to her apartment, she lifted her head and looked behind him, staring at her burning home. Rick licked his lips, feeling her grief in his bones. So many memories, lost because they thought the case was through. Furniture, paintings, even clothes could be replaced but photographs, knickknacks, and other things she held dear – they were gone.

When they reached the entrance of the apartment building, he gently set her down on her feet.

Together, they limped outside where photographers, police men, medical examiners, residents, and pedestrians were waiting for them.

"Mr. Castle, what happened here?" one reporter screamed.

"Detective Beckett, did Mr. Castle save you from the destruction of your apartment building?" another asked suggestively, shoving the microphone to her face.

"Detective Beckett!" another asked. Rick looked at him: greasy-looking, skinny, with short brown hair and guarded brown eyes. He was grinning, like this explosion was a gift sent from above. "Does this explosion have anything to do with the Conrad case?" Rick felt his temperature rise and he fought the urge to punch the man in the face.

Kate paled suddenly and Rick squeezed his arm tighter around her back. He forced himself through the horde, screaming, "No questions! We have nothing to say. Detective Beckett needs medical assistance." The man who asked about the Conrad case blocked his way to freedom. He looked him straight in the eye and said, "Move, or I will arrest you for harassing an officer." Then, he shoved him in the shoulder, knocking the man aside.

Lanie was waiting at the ambulance, looking shocked, confused, and, most of all, fear. When she saw them, her face morphed to relief and she came running. "Kate!" She helped Rick carry Kate to the ambulance. They sat her down on the bumper and she sighed with relief.

"Girl you scared me," Lanie chided, checking her over.

"What happened?" Lanie asked after putting a few butterfly Band-Aids on the cut across her cheek. She moved onto the cut on Kate's shoulder.

"I was taking a shower and…" Kate blinked heavily and looked up to Rick, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "And Rick called. He saved me."

Rick swallowed, too many emotions coming to the surface at once. Was he forgiven? He wondered. Did he finally do something right in this relationship? He felt a squeeze on his palm. Before he had thought about it, he had reached for her hand. She was holding it gently, wincing a little at the alcohol Lanie was pouring on her arm.

He gave her a small smile, not trusting himself to talk, afraid of what he'd say.

"We found a faulty room in Conrad's apartment."

It was several hours later, something like four in the morning.

Alexis was sleeping on the couch in Captain Montgomery's office. Rick had picked her up after the fiasco at Kate's apartment. She had been sleeping soundly and continued to do so, even as Rick moved her from her room, to the car, out to the frigid cold and finally to the Precinct. Gina had gone home after she gotten the answers she demanded.

She gave him another extension on his manuscript.

Three more weeks.

Around Christmastime.

And then the funds would be cut off. Negotiations would have to be made. He may even have to break his contract, putting him in a world of debt.

He put that thought to the back of his mind, however, and focused on the case.

"So, our killer – our real killer – was in the room the whole time?" Kate's voice brought him out of his stupor. "He was watching us the whole time?" Her voice was like ice and fire all at once.

Esposito shrugged. Ryan kicked the floor with his big toe, like he was embarrassed.

It was embarrassing, Rick thought. They thought the case was done, the killer caught. Then they turn around and their partner's apartment has blown up, there's a faulty room in the room they thought had been the killer, and what's worse?

The killer was in the freaking room when they had been in there.

At least thirty people were in the room and he had been there the whole time, watching.

"Beckett!" Captain Montgomery called from his office. Their captain had been on the phone for hours, talking to everyone from reporters to residents of Beckett's building, to his wife calling, to his superiors. He wasn't a very happy man.

To say the least.

Kate closed her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and sighed.

She pushed herself off the top of her desk and brushed by Rick. He shivered, and then looked at guys to make sure they hadn't noticed. They had, and were both smirking at him. He glared, and they chuckled quietly.

When the door shut behind her, he said, "So, why would our killer assume the identity of Ben Conrad?"

Ryan shrugged. "Conrad was an easy target?"

Esposito suggested, "He had a grudge against him?"

Castle pursed his lips, glanced back at the office. Inside, Beckett was holding what looked like a flask. She was pissed off and tired. She needed to sleep. Hell, they all needed to sleep. He looked back to the guys. They were smirking again.

He rolled his eyes and then they all looked at the board.

After a while, he said, "It had to be someone he knew. Maybe not someone he wronged somehow. Just someone he knew. Randomly."

"Bro," Esposito said. "We were inside his apartment. No family photographs hanging on the walls. No photo albums. Nothing. He was a loner. The only sense of personality in the whole places was the Nets poster on the wall. He didn't even have a TV."

Rick's eyes widened. "That's it!" he said. "He didn't have a TV, so where would he go?"

Ryan offered, "A local bar?"

"Exactly!" Rick grinned. "He would have to go to the bar to watch the game. He could meet anyone there. Anyone at all. Two guys without TVs. Coming to catch a game. But then they start talking. Start talking about where they've been wronged. Maybe they mention the personal injury lawyer, the secretary that was rude to them, the judge presiding their case. Maybe they have a common person to hate."

"That's a lot of maybes." Esposito dead-panned.

"It's better than nothing," Ryan said. "We'll check it…" He glanced outside to the rising sun. "Um, we'll check in a few hours. But first you need to go home. Take your daughter home. Get some rest. We'll call you when we need you."

Rick yawned and then nodded.

He pushed himself off of the desk and patted Ryan on the back, headed to the break room. He heard Esposito say in a song-like voice, "You might want to take Beckett home too. She might want to rest too."

Rick didn't even give him the satisfaction of looking.

He flipped him off instead.

Alexis's head lolled on his shoulder, drool seeping through the collar of his shirt and onto his skin. Meh, he thought, it was better than when she used to spit-up down his shirt. He'd take drool over that stuff any day.

Kate was headed to the elevator when it dinged open. He walked inside, keeping the elevator open with his foot until she got inside. "Thanks," she mumbled and headed to the opposite side of the space. Away from him.

"No problem."

For a second, they stood in an awkward silence.

"What did—" he started.

"Th—" she said.

He laughed, shifting Alexis gently. She muttered something her sleep, smacked her lips a couple of times, and then went back to sleep. "Go ahead," she said.

"I was just wondering what Captain Montgomery was talking to you about?"

She looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "We were talking about the case. About my… my mom." She swallowed heavily. "And about my apartment blowing up." She took a deep, wet breath. Rick knew that sound. She was about to cry. "He wants me off the case. He wants me out of the city, and off the case. And I can't… I can't do that."

The elevator opened before Rick had a chance to do anything.

He shifted Alexis so he could hold her with one hand. When Kate rushed off of the elevator and into the parking garage, he jogged along behind her. For a woman who was limping and had some major burns and scratches from her apartment blowing up, she was pretty agile.

"Kate, wait."

He touched her hand with his free one. Wrapping their fingers together, he squeezed tight. She stopped and turned toward him. He pulled her in and she wrapped her arms around his torso. She breathed heavily into his shirt, like the sleeping Alexis, but didn't cry. Finally, she took one last breath and leaned away.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," he said, not letting her go quite yet. "But you will make it through this. I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

He shrugged. "I have faith. In the universe. In you. In us."

She smiled sadly.

And then she turned her attention away from him. She looked at his sleeping girl. She ran a hand through Alexis's long red hair, brushing it free of tangles when she hit them on the way down. She reached up again and ran a finger along the girl's hairline, tears coming to her eyes when Alexis smiled and snuggled closer to her hand.

The love he felt for her returned.

And if it was possible, he loved her even more.

Finally, when she looked stable enough to get in her car and drive… wherever she was going, he let her go. She took a couple of steps back and turned to head her car, the only material item she had after the explosion.

"Kate!" he called after her. "What were you going to say before?"

She bit her lip, embarrassed and hobbled back over to him.

She leaned up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. His heart stopped for a long moment and then it stuttered to a start again, making him nervous. "Thank you," she whispered, her breath fanning over his face. "For saving me."

When Rick reached his apartment, his mother was waiting.

"Mother," he said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

She gave him a strange look. "I'm here to pick up my granddaughter." She looked at Alexis sleeping on his shoulder. "Late night?"

He chuckled. "You don't know the half of it." He filled her in on the night, starting from the time Gina had knocked on the door, to Kate's apartment, to the Precinct and the new developments, and, finally, to the conversation he and Kate had in the apartment. He ended it with, "And I really don't want to talk about Kate and me. It's just… really complicated right now."

"Well, I'm here now. So, I will take her to the school and pick her up afterwards. But you have to be back here before five tonight." She took Alexis and the girl slowly came to, blinking at the bright light shining throughout the living room. "I have a date tonight and I'm not going to be available."

Rick smiled.

"When did it come to this?" he asked.

She cocked her head to the side. "Come to what, darling?"

"I'm supposed to be the good dad," he said. "I didn't have a dad and I promised my future children that I would put them before everything else. And it's not enough. I'm caught between two jobs, a nasty divorce, a strange relationship, murders, book publishers, and I can't even take my own daughter to her school. I just…"

Martha quickly shook her head.

"No, no, no," she said. "Rick, you are doing the best you can. And Alexis is fine. She misses her father, sure, but she at least knows you. Her mother she does not know. She waits for you, honey, no one else. She loves you, Rick. She thinks the world of you."

Rick swallowed.

Alexis opened her eyes and look up at Rick. "Mornin', Daddy," she mumbled.

Rick leaned forward and kissed his daughter's forehead. "Good morning, pumpkin."

She smiled and closed her eyes again, snuggling against Martha's neck. Rick leaned up and kissed his own mother on the forehead. "Thank you, Mother," he said.

"Sure, sure," she brushed it off. "Now, I'm going to take this sleepy girl and get her ready for school and you are going to get a few hours' rest. You can go into the Precinct later." She turned and was halfway up the stairs before she turned around again. "Oh, and please don't forget about tonight. Mama's going fishing."

Rick was startled out of a dead sleep several hours later.

He looked over to his nightstand. His cellphone was glowing brightly in the darkened room. He swallowed, feeling his stomach tight with nerves. He picked up the phone and pulled it close.

There was one text message from an unknown number.

It read:

Someone always has to die.

Rick felt his throat clog with fear. He leaped out of bed, looking around his room – as if he'd find someone there, watching him.

His phone beeped again, alerting him of another text message.

He picked it up.

This one was from Esposito and it read: We got him.