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 28 – "I Heard You Were Starting a Flower Shop"
There were tracks of blood down the mint and white checked floor.
She stumbled along behind the tracks, following it like breadcrumbs, like somehow she would find a miracle, exactly what she was looking for, at the end. But she wouldn't.
Doctors and nurses seemed to be emerging from every hallway and door, running to the gurney and the man that lay dying on top of it. An EMT straddled him, pumping his chest in a rhythmic motion; he was yelling out things to the doctors.
"He's lost a lot of blood!"
"He's going into shock!"
"I'm losing him!"
Something caught the front of Kate's shoe and she stumbled to the floor. On her hands and knees, she took several deep breaths, trying to slow her heart down. She glanced at her hands and noticed they were stained with blood, splotchy and runny.
Rick's blood.
She suddenly felt sick to her stomach; bile scraped her throat. She was going to throw up. Maybe if she just laid her head on the cool floor… Maybe it would stop unsettled stomach. As she let herself fall, she felt someone touch her shoulder.
Jerking, she looked up at them, already reaching for her holster. She never would have admitted it that she half-expected to see Scott Dunn standing over her, mocking. You've lost your touch, Johanna. You were better when I knew you before. You failed him, Johanna, and now his blood will remain on your hands. Just like your mother's.
It was Esposito.
"Beckett," he said, squatting down next to her. "Come on." He gently reached across her waist and hoisted her up. The room was spinning, the green and white tiles merging together in an odd dance, and she felt Esposito squeeze as she started to faint.
"Rick…" she whispered before succumbing to the darkness.
She was sitting in the waiting room outside the ICU when Martha and Alexis arrived.
It had only been an hour since they had arrived here. Earlier, she saw a janitor running a mop over the trails of blood left by the gurney wheels. Now, it was clean and shiny almost like Rick had never been rushed down that hallway.
Ryan and Esposito had left ten minutes earlier to go back to the crime scene and take care of things. The captain had called just minutes before to tell her that she needed to come in as soon as she could for clearance and paperwork. She had killed someone after all.
"Kate! Kate!" Martha's shrill voice rang down the hallway.
She looked up from her clutched hands to see them. Alexis was wearing a puffy purple coat, her long hair flowing behind her, and tears running down her cheeks. Martha had a bandage wrapped over her head and she was wearing a pair of doctor's scrubs. She felt a twinge of guilt because she had all but forgot Martha had been kidnapped in the last hour. She was too busy worrying about Rick, whether he was going to live or die, whether he knew.
Whether or not he knew that she loved him.
She stood up when they reached her.
Alexis rammed her head into her legs and Kate gasped at the sudden pain. It didn't hurt exactly, but it suddenly took her out of her numbness.
"Kate," Martha repeated and reached up to place both hands along Kate's cheeks. She brushed her fingers underneath Kate's eyelids and it was then that Kate realized she was crying. For how long, she didn't know but her skin felt raw and her eyes stung so it must have been a while.
Damn Richard Castle – he had made her cry more than any man her entire life.
"Have you heard anything?"
She shook her head negatively.
"How long has he been in there?"
She shrugged off the question because she really wasn't sure. It hadn't been long since they had been here and the boys had only left ten minutes ago. But there was a certain way in hospitals made time either go by fast or slow, depending on the person. Kate avoided hospitals at all times. She didn't like how clean they were, or the smell, or the people that were forced here.
It was full of Death.
Her life was already full of so much Death that she never put herself in a position to experience more than she had to already.
Martha patted her cheek gently and then released her. Kate then was drawn to the little girl, crying into her pant legs. "Alexis," she whispered, crouching down so she was staring the little girl in her drippy-wet, red-rimmed eyes. "Sweetheart." She placed her hands along the crown of Alexis's head and ran her fingers through her red locks. "I'm so sorry."
Kate was chocking again, and her eyes were full of tears. She kissed Alexis along her hairline and repeated, "I'm so sorry. But your daddy is strong and brave and he will get through this." She paused, looking up at Martha. "He has to."
Finally, after nearly six hours of surgery, the doctor finally opened the doors to the ICU.
The doctor looks grave. He looked like the Grim Reaper, managing the gates of Death. He clutched his blue cap in his hand and his blue eyes shifted nervously from Kate to Martha to Alexis. They all stood. Kate hung back while Martha scrambled to the doctor, Alexis running right behind her.
"He lost a lot of blood," the doctor said first. "The knife wound was deep. The bullet wound…" He paused, clearing his throat whilst looking down upon Alexis. "Well, he made it through the surgery. He's still in critical condition but, with some rest, he should be able to pull through."
Martha gasped and a whole new wave of tears overcame her. Alexis didn't understand what was going on, but she was crying again anyway. When Martha noticed her, she immediately bent down to explain to her that her daddy was going to be okay.
Kate didn't hear much of anything. She was too busy trying to breathe properly. He would be okay, she thought. He would be okay.
She hadn't failed him. Like she had failed her mother.
Her throat felt dry and her eyes were as well, even though all she wanted to do was sit down and cry. He was going to live. He was going to be okay. And maybe – maybe – they would be okay as well. Maybe they could pick up the broken pieces of their relationship and glue them back together.
Maybe they could move on.
Together.
"Only family members are allowed in the ICU," the doctor explained. Kate looked up at the man, who looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Detective Beckett, but you can't go see him until he is out of critical condition."
Martha gave her a wide-eyed look. Kate forced a smile. "It's fine," she said. "Do you know when he may be up to seeing non-relative visitors?"
The doctor shrugged. "If he makes it through the night, it could be as early as tomorrow morning. But that's only if he doesn't have any complications…"
She nodded. "Okay. Thank you, doctor."
He nodded and headed back into the ICU, most likely onto his next patient. As much as Kate hated death, she would rather be on her side of it than a doctor's side. She couldn't even imagine having someone's life in her hands. She didn't think she could handle it.
Martha gave Kate a desperate look. "I'm so sorry, Kate," she mumbled as Kate shuffled to her. "I should have said something. You're as good as family—"
She shook her head. "It's okay, Martha," she told the older woman. "I have reports to fill out anyway. I'm better just knowing that he's alive."
Martha's eyes turned soft again and she suddenly wrapped her arms around Kate, hugging her deeply. She leaned back, squeezing her arms with ringed fingers. "You are the bravest woman I have ever known, Kate," she said quietly, her eyes once more filling with tears. "Richard is so lucky to have you in his life."
Kate bit her lip. "Not as lucky as me."
"Hey, Mom."
Usually the graveyard was very pretty this time of year. The snow covered the landscape, making everything pristine and flawless. Kate had always loved the snow, even as a little girl, and would rather have winter than summer any time. Her mother hated the snow, hated to drive in it, and while Kate didn't exactly enjoy it, there was something about lounging around in sweat, a cup of hot tea, and a good book when it was snowing. That kind of leisure didn't come on a summer day.
Today, however, the ground was muddy and the snow was dirty. It had rained early in the day but it wasn't cold enough to snow, so it left everything dirty and gross. This was the winter she didn't enjoy.
But no matter.
She knelt down before her mother's grave, not caring about the slosh seep through her pants. It was cold outside but she didn't really feel it. Maybe it was because she was numb from her shock of her partner/boyfriend/lover/friend/person almost dying or maybe it was because she forgot gloves and her fingers, along with her nose and toes were frozen.
"Mom, do you remember Scott Dunn?"
The wind gave a howl and she pulled her pea coat tighter. She regretted her choice in coats sometimes – she usually picked style over warmth and it was times like these she wished she had a puffy coat no matter if it didn't suit her.
"Well, he killed people this week. He killed people this week that you knew, Mom. And he blamed you. It's funny…" She let out a puff of air. "I don't even remember you mentioning his name. I remember some of the cases you talked about but him?" She shook her head. "I had no idea.
"Esposito called me on the way over here and told me about how you guys knew each other. You were his defense lawyer for a stalking and harassment charge for an ex-girlfriend. You lowered it down to a restraining order." A tear dripped down her cheek. "You always did try to see the best in people even if they were no-good bastards."
With another gust of wind, she shifted and a new surge of cold liquid raced down her leg.
He went crazy after Johanna died. Her name had run in the paper, of course, being the successful lawyer that she was. Dunn had reacted as if it was his own lover who had died. He threatened his coworkers, was pulled over drunk, and trashed his apartment. He became obsessed with her.
He had attacked now because he had just gotten out of prison. He did a nickel upstate for nearly killing a man in a bar fight. He was let out on parole for good behavior. And he came back with a boom. He came with a gun and a plan and a way to finally get Johanna Beckett's attention.
Well, Kate Beckett's attention.
"Mom, he shot my partner," Kate said, leaning over her thighs, pressing her hands into the mud. "He shot Rick, Mom. I – I love him, Mom. And he shot him. Stabbed him." She took a shaky breath, wiping her dripping mascara along the back of her arm. "I ruined everything and he almost died tonight, Mom. Why do I keep doing this, Mom?"
"I thought you'd be out here."
Kate whirled around, reaching for her holster, expecting Dunn, but seeing her own father. He smiled at her sadly, crouching down next to her. "Dad?" she asked, shocked that he picked today to come see her mother's grave. It wasn't the anniversary of her death, nor was it all that close to the holidays. They never came here together and never passed one another here.
"Esposito called me," he said. "Said you left after giving your statement and he was worried about you. I figured you'd come out to talk to your mom."
He knelt down next to her, effectively ruining his khakis, and wrapped a coated arm around her back. He squeezed her tight. "You're cold, sweetheart," he said. "How long have you been out here?"
"Not long," she mumbled.
She looked up at her father. In the past five years, he had aged dramatically. The crows' feet by his eyes were more pronounced, and he had permanent bags under his eyes; he was balding and looked gaunt rather than pudgy like when her mother was alive. He battled alcoholism more often than not but it had been a good three months now that he had been sober. She could feel his arm quivering slightly but she tried not to pay attention to it.
It was times like these when he really felt like her father.
"What happened?" he asked.
Without really meaning to, she told him everything. She told him about Rick and how they met in September, how they "got together" in October, how they ended in early December, and how he almost died the day before. When she was finished, she took a shaky breath, and looked at her father. She laughed guiltily and tucked a loose strand behind your ear.
"I don't know what to do, Dad," she admitted softly.
Her father smiled down at her. "Love isn't often clear, Katie," he told her. "It wasn't clear with your mother and me. Did she ever tell you about the boyfriend she had when we first met?" Kate laughed despite herself and he grinned. "Yeah, it was awful. I was trying so hard to impress and she only had eyes for Bobby Johnson. What a stupid name, right?"
Kate nodded.
"The point is," he continued, "is no one's love is perfect. And yours sounds pretty messed up." She huffed, slapping his shoulder. "But we're human, Kate. Rick can't expect you to be anymore. And you expect yourself to do anything more either."
She looked at him and smiled.
His room was stock full of flowers.
Everywhere were lilies, tulips, sunflowers, and others that she didn't recognize but appreciated all the same. She took a step inside the door and shut it firmly behind her. She bit her lips, staring down at her boots and then she glanced up.
Rick was awake and staring at her.
She couldn't help herself. She broke out into a smile and stepped forward towards him before she saw that he was not alone. Martha and Alexis were sleeping next to him; Martha was slumped over the bed in one of the hospital chairs and Alexis was curled at Rick's side, clutching his arm tightly in her sleep.
She looked at him, unsure, and he nodded her over.
Grateful, she made her way across the room, guilty about wearing such noisy shoes. When she approached him, her boots skidded and she furrowed her eyebrows in frustration.
If he noticed, he didn't let on, and Kate said, "I heard you were starting a flower shop."
He smiled. "I think most of them are from the Precinct." He paused. "I guess I'm not going to live this down, am I?"
"No," she replied, smiling at him. "They'll tease you for the rest of your life."
Silence.
Horrid, awkward silence.
"I heard you tried to save me," he offered.
She shook her head. "You heard wrong," she answered honestly. "I just shot Dunn before he could finish the job."
"Sounds like saving to me."
"If I were faster…"
"You're too hard on yourself."
She touched the top of his hand, grazing her fingers along his knuckles. He stiffened under her touch and politely moved his hand down his side, away from her. Her eyebrows knitted together, wondering, and she gave him a questioning look.
"Did you hear anything else?" she asked him seriously.
I love you. I love you, Rick.
Don't leave me.
He shook his head a fraction of an inch. "No," he vocalized. "I remember running down the stairs but everything gets kind of fuzzy after that. The next thing I know, Alexis is trying to climb up my arm in the ICU. It kind of hurt."
Kate swallowed, controlling her emotions.
He hadn't heard her confession after all.
"Kate," he murmured, "I need to tell you something." She frowned, her neck warming up at his calm exterior, his dead eyes. She looked away, down back to her boots. She nodded but did not reply. "When Dunn shot me, the bullet ricocheted in my leg and really tore up the muscles in there. It also shattered my knee. I—"
He took a deep breath and it was then that Kate finally managed to look up into his eyes.
He looked away.
"I have to retire from the Force," he sputtered. "I'll be using a cane for the rest of my life because of that bastard."
She felt her heart skip a beat and her eyes fill up once more. It was too much to handle. She had known it was bad but – he had to retire? He was going to leave her? He wouldn't be there anymore – not with coffee, a brilliant (if not crazy) idea, or a dirty joke.
Because she hadn't been fast enough.
"Rick," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
She went to hug him but he shrunk away. She leaned away. "Do you blame me?"
He shook his head. He didn't answer. "I'm really… tired right now," he muttered.
She leaned away, trying to ignore how her bones seemed to be crushing from grief. Nodding, she reassured, "I'll come tomorrow."
"Do you mind if you don't?" he objected quietly. "I just… need some time."
She lifted the corner of her mouth and nodded, just needing to get out. She was about to lose it. She was about to lose him. She had to get out. She couldn't lose it here. She couldn't fall down here. She loved him and he was slipping away.
She asked, "Okay, how much time?"
"I'll call you, okay?"
He didn't call.
He never called.
Months passed and she never heard from him. He had picked up his things from the Precinct during her lunch break one day and it was like he was never there in the first place. She wasn't reassigned another partner. Montgomery let her off the hook for sleeping with Rick because of his particular circumstance.
But he never once called her.
She hadn't expected him to, of course. That was what happened when someone said, "I'll call you, okay?" Once you walked away, you weren't supposed to expect hearing from that person ever again. Kate knew this.
But she waited.
She waited for days and weeks and months until finally six months had gone by and she had deteriorated to the point that she only looked like Kate Beckett but no longer felt like her. She would drink whiskey some nights until she fell asleep and felt miserable at work most days. She threw herself into cases and took them all personally.
She had been warned she was becoming too violent with suspects in interrogation.
Ryan and Esposito stayed at arms-length. They offered to take her out for beers that that first week but after a month and no change, they stopped coming around. Sure, they were around for cases but they mostly talked to each other and only told her vital information.
No longer were people confiding in her.
Lanie had stuck around longer but even two months after Rick left, she also stopped calling. If Kate didn't have to work, she would spend her days alone in her apartment, staring out the window, or at a blank wall, or her mother's murder board.
She was miserable.
And depressed.
She wasn't even grieving over her lost love relationship with Rick anymore. It was just the relationship in general she missed. Over those few months they were together as partners, she had somehow gotten used to that feeling of partnership. She liked having someone there to watch her back, keep her safe, and take her side.
She missed his coffee. She tried and failed to duplicate it. His pancakes were something she missed too. And she missed his smile, the way his eyes crinkled. God, she missed Alexis so much. She hadn't seen her since that day in the hospital when she was curled up, asleep and clutching her father's arm.
She had a birthday that February. She would be six now.
He had a book coming out now too. Deadly Storm – the first in his anticipated Derek Storm series – was coming out that next week. She was glad – through everything – he had managed to get his writing career back on track.
Glancing up from her coffee, she stared out her window to the busy streets of Manhattan alone. It was a gorgeous afternoon. The sun wouldn't be setting for several more hours and people were taking advantage of the warm – but not blistering – day by walking in sundresses and shorts.
People down below looked happy.
There was a knock on her door.
She looked to the door, with the same calmness she had developed over the past months. Rising to her feet, she took one last sip of coffee before shuffling to the door. The hardwood floor was cool under her feet and she shivered once.
Unlocking the door, she took a deep breath, and opened it widely.
There, on the other side, stood Richard Castle – like he had just walked out of one of her dreams.
