September 27, 2010
Beckett slips out of bed, leaving Castle sleeping soundly, her stomach grumbling. She searches in the pile of their discarded clothes and grabs his button-up, quickly donning it as she pads softly into the dimly-lit kitchen.
She had texted her parents earlier saying she was going over a case with Castle and ended up crashing in the guest room.
Ah, yes. "The guest room." Johanna had texted back. She had mixed feelings about her mother making thinly-veiled comments about her sex life but she cracked a smile.
Shut up. Beckett typed.
How do I remove myself from a conversation? Her father wrote back.
Please tell me if anything happens with Fitz the detective requested, trying to change the subject.
Her mother sent her a picture of him in his crib, fast asleep, and Beckett's heart melted.
In the kitchen, she rummages through Castle's fridge and runs across his leftovers from dinner. Alfredo pasta, score. Grabbing a fork from a nearby drawer, she eats it cold, not wanting to wake anyone up with the sound of the microwave.
"Kate?"
"Lexis," the detective mumbles around her mouthful of pasta, her eyes widening at the sight of the redhead coming down the stairs. She gulps her food down. "What are you doing up?"
Little Castle yawns. "Water," she explains, taking in Beckett's rumpled hair and choice of clothing. She smirks. "I see you and my dad talked," she says as she grabs two glasses from a cabinet.
Beckett hums affirmatively as she takes another bite of Alfredo. Alexis pours from the Britta filter in the somewhat awkward silence and presents a glass to the detective once it's filled.
"Oh, thanks," the detective says, setting her meal on the counter and accepting the quiet peace offering.
The redhead sips from her drink, eyeing Beckett. "So does this mean you're back together?"
The detective accidentally chokes on her water.
"Too early for that kind of question?" the redhead assesses.
"I'd definitely like to be wearing underwear," the detective quips. Alexis' eyes expand at her boldness, an unbidden snort escaping from her mouth.
"Touché," she says with a half-impressed smile.
"You coming to brunch later?" Beckett asks cordially, trying to inconspicuously tug at the bottom of Castle's dress shirt to make it seem longer.
"I really missed your mom's pancakes," Alexis says.
"She bought extra chocolate chips when she heard you were back in town," Beckett replies.
The redhead ducks her head, a small smile flirting at her lips.
"Sorry about this," the detective adds, gesturing. "Won't happen again."
Alexis' eyebrows quirk up. "You said that last time."
"Last time?" Beckett asks reflexively before grimacing internally. Shit.
The young woman looks at her for a long moment. "Case of amnesia?"
"You could say that."
"Uh huh," the redhead says, thinking, as she exits the kitchen. "Night," she throws over her shoulder, heading back upstairs.
"Night," Beckett returns, wondering what's churning away in her brain.
"You're staring," he says, slowly waking up.
"Thought you'd like to know how it feels," Beckett says with a smile. He turns to her, sliding a hand around her neck and pulling her to him, sealing their lips in a good morning kiss.
"Hi," he murmurs.
"Hi," she says, kissing him again.
"Did you brush your teeth already?" he asks, breaking away. "You taste minty."
"I've been up," she says, "Today's the 27th. The autumnal equinox was on the 22nd."
"You checked," Castle says, a soft look passing over his face.
"The last day we can try to travel back is the 29th. That's the day our window closes," she talks out.
The writer sits up on his elbows. "You want to leave now? We could wait for the winter solstice."
"I meant what I said last night," she says, laying a hand on his chest, "I don't want to make you wait anymore." I don't want to hurt you anymore.
"God, I love you."
Her heart somersaults.
"Sorry," he adds quickly, but she shakes her head.
"No, don't apologize."
"If you're not there—"
"It's not that…" she says, her eyes mapping his face and her fingers brushing through the scruff on his cheek. "It's just...nothing good happens to the people I love."
"Kate—"
She stops him with a kiss.
"So listen to me carefully when I say, I really really hate you."
His features crease with her favorite crooked smile.
"I really really hate you, too."
Brunch is bright and loud, silverware clinking and chatter flowing. Alexis catches everyone up on her studies and the latest school gossip as Martha chimes in with wild stories from her travels. Fitz plays with his scrambled eggs, the occasional yellow-white cluster plopping to the ground unceremoniously. Beckett keeps leaning down to wipe up the carnage.
"You want some strawberries, Lex?" Castle asks in a lull, holding out a bowl of the red fruit to her.
She frowns at him. "I'm allergic."
"Since when?" he asks before catching himself.
"Richard, really," Martha tuts, plucking the bowl from his grasp.
"I'm joking. Of course I know that," he says, playing it off.
But the young redhead isn't convinced. "How old was I when I had my first reaction?" she asks.
Martha leans in dramatically. "Oh, that was horrifying. You were so little. We had no idea what was happening and then—"
"Gram," Alexis interrupts, laying a hand on the actress's arm. "I want to hear it from him."
Castle glances at Beckett, who sits across from him, with panic in his eyes and she clears her throat.
"Your dad forgot Fitz's favorite toy the other day—" Beckett starts.
"Stop covering for him!"
The table grows quiet, Fitz babbling quietly to himself.
"You really don't know, do you?" Alexis says, incredulous. She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, her porcelain face cracking with a painful understanding. "You're not my dad, are you?"
"Alexis! Why would you say such a thing?" Martha gasps.
"The murder board in your office isn't about a new book idea at all. It's real. You and Kate...you're not from here," the redhead says, eyeing the pair.
"Darling, what are you talking about?" the older redhead presses.
"I know how it sounds, and I didn't want to believe it, but those two," Alexis says, pointing. "Are time-travelers."
"Don't be ridiculous," Martha scoffs.
"It's true. Ask them," the redhead says.
Martha turns toward the couple with a look of exasperation.
"Richard, please tell her she's imagining things."
He doesn't respond and shock flits over Martha's face as she registers the guilt in both their expressions.
"I don't understand."
"We can explain," Johanna offers from the head of the table.
Martha swivels toward the Beckett matriarch.
"Explain what? This is delusional. I can't believe you're entertaining such a notion."
"Martha, please. I know it's hard to wrap your head around," Jim says.
"Hold on, why do they know? Why didn't you tell us?" Alexis asks, interjecting.
"Because where we're from, my mother is dead," Beckett announces.
Everyone quiets. Martha pales and Alexis uncrosses her arms, mollified.
"In our primary timeline, Johanna was killed. One day, a couple months ago, Beckett and I stepped into an elevator and ended up in 1977," Castle begins.
He launches into the rest of the story, giving them the highlights.
"No!" Martha exclaims, when he recounts their night at Studio 54. "But I…" she stares at them, her mind running. "You had an orange dress on," she says slowly, looking at Beckett, her eyes widening in disbelief as the memory hits her. "I remember because right after I bumped into you two, I ran into Don Henley and he took my entire bag of molly."
"Gram!"
"He was really charming," Martha says on a sigh.
"Well, the next day, we told Jim and Johanna who we were and why we thought we were there," Castle says, continuing.
"We did not take it well," Jim says gruffly.
"But I'm thankful they intercepted," Johanna says, grasping his hand tightly. He squeezes her fingers. "They brought us back together and saved me."
"Then we stepped into the elevator, and I wished for her to be alive," the detective says.
"That's how we arrived here," Castle says,
"About three months ago, right?" Alexis assesses.
"How did you—"
"You're not a very good liar," she says.
"Take that back," he says in mock horror.
"Bad at lying to me," she concedes with a ghost of a smile. "You never seemed to remember anything quite right."
"Fair enough," he says.
"And we were going to wait until after the meal, but we can just tell you now…" Beckett says, glancing at her parents, "We found a way to go back."
"Back?" Jim asks.
"Back home. To our time."
Martha's eyebrows turn down. "How does that work?"
"A trusted source told us. We don't need to get into it," Beckett says.
"How do you know they can be trusted? You ended up here by chance!" Martha says, standing up with a start. "And how am I supposed to trust either of you? If what you're saying is true, then my son is missing. And your daughter—" she shoots the elder Becketts a judgmental glare. "Our children could be dead for all we know! Aren't you concerned?"
"Our source says they're okay," the detective says.
"Who is this person? How do they know so much about this?" Martha fires back.
Beckett opens her mouth but Castle gently nudges his ankle against hers under the table. "It's okay."
He meets his mother's gaze.
"The source is my father."
"That's impossible," Martha says, "I don't know who he is."
Castle tells her about Casino Royale, shadowing Sophia, and meeting with his father in the library the day before.
"He wanted me to tell you his real name is Theodore."
"I…" Martha looks around the table. "I need a moment." She pushes her chair in and disappears down the hall.
Alexis slides out of her seat, moving to follow her grandmother, but pauses, looking between the writer and detective, "Did he say my dad would come back?"
"He said it was possible."
"But not guaranteed," she concludes, her blue eyes storming.
"Alexis—"
"Excuse me," she says, exiting the dining room.
Castle and Beckett shoot a look at her parents. The two are quiet as they start clearing plates, avoiding the couple's gaze, and Beckett's heart sinks, realizing. They hadn't considered they might not get their daughter back.
Fitz throws his hands up, bits of scrambled eggs flying from his fingertips and showering all over them.
"That didn't go well, did it?" the writer says.
Beckett leans over and picks a piece of egg from Castle's hair.
"We're going to get them back."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I never do something without thinking about the next steps," she says.
He grins, remembering his own words to her during their stint in lockup in '77. "What's our next step?"
"Ready to go confront a police commissioner?"
"Hell yes."
xxx
June 28, 2010 - Castle and Beckett arrive in another timeline where Johanna is alive. The next day they discover Espo was killed in action and resolve to be happy.
July 2010 - They settle into a new life.
August 25, 2010 - They break up.
August 28, 2010 - Castle visits Alexis in Connecticut and reconciles with her.
September 25, 2010 - Sadie brings Beckett information that sends her into a tailspin, Fitz gets an ear infection, Beckett meets Sophia Turner, Castle and Beckett go over Diane's case, leading to a kiss between the two, and Beckett talks with her mother, deciding she wants to go home with Castle.
September 26, 2010 - Castle and Beckett meet at the New York Public Library to switch parent-duty (it's Beckett's turn). Castle runs into his father, who seems to know about time travel. Sadie discovers a new lead in Diane's case, so her and Beckett visit Rikers to question Pulgatti, uncovering a cover-up and a kidnapping scheme involving mobsters and three cops (Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery). Castle learns about the TTB, exchanges stories with Beckett, and the two of them have a talk about their relationship.
September 27, 2010 (Present) - After reuniting, Beckett tells Castle she wants to go home. Later, at brunch, Martha and Alexis learn the writer and detective's true identities.
A/N: Thank you all for your incredible patience and for still following along! Just two more chapters to go—will try to update as soon as I can.