Her head bobs back and forth with the road, McCord not bothering to dodge the pot holes.
The fear and dread, shame and guilt has passed. It was gone by the time she loaded her stuff from her desk under the supervision of everyone around her watching her. It was replaced by a frozen simmer of anger and impatience by the time McCord offered to carry the box for her as they escorted her out to her car. The box is sitting in the back seat and she can hear the pencils and pens roll back and forth in the bottom as they move through the streets toward her apartment, an annoying but somehow poetic sound. Thrown without care from where they belong, now rolling around aimlessly looking for a home in the bottom underneath everything else that matters.
"You want to talk about it?" McCord asks, no inflection in her voice.
Beckett stares out the window wordlessly like an obstinate child. Punished for trying to do the right thing. Fired from a job she gave up everything for. Forced to go back to a place she ran from... all for trying to get justice for a victim that wasn't even murdered.
She sees McCord nod her head in the transparent reflection on the window. McCord flicks the turn signal and hangs a right to turn onto Beckett's street. "I warned you to back off, Beckett." Beckett can only grit her teeth in frustration. "I thought you learned that this isn't New York where you can just-"
"Can we not talk about this, please?" She spats, whipping her head over to send her partner a stern glare.
McCord gives her another single nod and pulls to a stop on the curb opposite her apartment building. "We should hurry," she says while taking off her seatbelt, "your flight leaves in two hours."
Beckett rolls her eyes wide as she climbs out of the passenger side and darts off ahead of McCord, passing behind a rented van and the purple sedan of her upstairs neighbor. She's through pretending that McCord actually cares about her outside of a work setting. They've had each other's backs but she can't call them friends in any sense of the word.
"Can we just get on with this?" Beckett calls behind her, moving quickly toward the concrete stairs that lead down to her basement level apartment. "I still have to..." she trails off and slows to a stop when she sees her apartment door open. After a moment, out walks a heavy set, bearded man walk out with a large cardboard box in his hands while two more follow behind him, carrying her sofa out the door.
"You got it?" The one moving the coach asks.
"Yeah, just... just move it to the..." The other one in front says as they flip her coach over.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Beckett yells and quickly jogs up to the one carrying the box, pushing against the front to stop him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The man carrying the box opens his mouth but seems at a loss as he looks over his shoulder to the men in the middle of carrying her coach out of the door. "Uh..." he tries.
"We're the movers you called." The one in front says.
"Wha- I didn't call any movers. What the hell gives you the right to go rifle through my stuff?! Put it-"
"Beckett!" McCord says, coming to stand next to the man she's stopping. "I called them." She tells her, leaving Beckett at a loss of anger and helplessness. McCord turns back around and waves at the movers. "Go ahead."
"You sure?" The second asks.
"Yes." McCord waves again and then goes to push against Beckett's shoulder to get her out of the way.
McCord pushes her until she's being corralled down the steps and shimmying around the movers moving her coach. Beckett waits to explode until she sees what kind of damage they've done to her apartment. "You couldn't have warned me that you hired a bunch of strangers to ransack my apartment?" Beckett asks as she sees all her cupboards are open and left bare and the living room is already stripped of all furniture.
"I thought you'd appreciate it once you got over the fact that I didn't ask you first." McCord says from the doorway.
"Well, I'm sorry, I don't." Beckett snaps back angrily and storms into her kitchenette. "I just got fired from my job for trying to catch a murderer, Rachel. Forgive me if I have a little trouble with..." she trails off after opening her fridge and already finds it empty. "Son of a..." she seethes as she flings it closed and spins around to lean against the counter.
"Beckett..." McCord tries as she moves around the scattered lamps, shelves, and picture frames. "You got really lucky, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know that." She impatiently waves off. "Am I not entitled to be angry after being lied to by everyone in the department?"
"Why can't you understand that it's just-"
"It shouldn't be just part of the job, McCord!" She fights back. "I was never asked to look the other way on things as a homicide detective. It was either right, or it was wrong, and I knew what side I was on."
"Beckett, we don't deal in the black and the white." McCord says in a softer tone, trying for the thousandth time to try and get her to understand. "We deal in the grey so that there can be a black and white. That's what I've been trying to tell you."
Beckett's nails dig into the surface of her counter when she hears that, feeling hot angry, furious tears boil at the back of her eyes. "They lied to me about a woman being murdered, a murder that they staged, and I'm the bad guy for letting them fool me?"
"Beckett," McCord sighs, "if we're told to back off, you have to know it's for a good reason."
"Well, I'm sorry if I'm just not-" She cuts herself off when the moves silently move back into her apartment, one of them staying in the living room to gather the small clutter and two of them moving down the hall toward her bedroom.
"Get the dresser first?" One of them asks.
"Yeah, get the bed frame last and stand it up." The other answers.
Once they're out of earshot, McCord continues after a small sigh. "Look, why don't I buy you a quick dinner before you take off, let these guys finish."
"No," Beckett raises her hand, "I have to call my cousin Sofie and tell her I'm moving back into my apartment, then I have to call the NYPD and try to get my old job back. I have too much I need to do."
McCord nods and her eyes trail away from her. "There's one more thing I should tell you."
Beckett lets it go through her ears as she listens into her bedroom, where she hears the drawers of her dresser being taken out. Her blood igniting, she darts out of her kitchen and into her bedroom where the movers are taking out her drawers to move the dresser. "What are-"
The freezes when the second mover grabs the knob of the drawer on the third row, second down. When he starts to pull it open, she snaps.
She jumps forward and grabs the mover's wrist and twists it around, pulling his arm behind him forcefully and pressing his head into the surface of her dresser.
"Whoa, lady!" The mover strains.
"Beckett!" She hears McCord shout from the doorway.
Beckett lets go of his wrist and pushes on his shoulder to send him staggering into the wall, eyeing him evilly. "Stay away from that drawer!" She shouts emotionally.
"Beckett, get out here." McCord orders her while pulling on Beckett's arm, dragging her out of the bedroom. Once she's out, McCord pulls her ahead of her and then leans back into the bedroom. "Leave that drawer in, please?" She politely asks them, not wanting to cause any more problems.
Beckett, the flare of her temper having faded, gets her reaction under control and takes a breath, storming back into her living room. "What, is he gonna press charges?" Beckett sasses McCord as she comes up to her, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "It would add another thing onto the list of things screwing up my life." She says, her voice letting a shiver sneak through at the end.
McCord lets out another deep sigh as her eyes soften toward her partner. "Come on," she says, waving toward the door. "We'll go to the drive through."
"Ahh..." Greg sighs as he leans back in the swinging bench next to his wife. "I've gotta tell you, Rick." He says, putting his hand on his stomach. "That steak was good."
Cecilia smiles and crosses her legs while leaning into her husband's side, smiling over to Castle. "What's your secret? There was a taste in the marinade I couldn't place."
"Balsamic vinegar." He answers, an IPA hanging loosely from his hand by the neck.
"When are you gonna build us one of those, huh?" Greg asks him, pointing over to the brick barbeque Castle has spent the past week building.
"Oh, no, honey?" Cecilia says, putting her hand on her husband's chest. "Please, we have other things to worry about now." She says, putting a hand on her stomach. Castle smiles sincerely, happy for the couple.
"You're pregnant?" Alexis asks her.
"Mmhmm," she nods with a smile.
"Congratulations! You know, I'm..." Alexis trails off, looking between her dad and the couple, Castle looking over to her with a small, nervous twinge in his throat. "I'm actually studying pediatrics in college."
Castle feels his soft smile start to grow. "You are?"
Alexis looks over to her dad with her usual bright smile and crinkled eyes.
"Since when?" He asks.
"I declared my major a few days ago." She answers.
"Well, good for you." Cecilia says. "You know, my sister works for the county as the coroner. She just got the job a few weeks ago. Maybe you could study with her if you ever need it."
"Actually," Alexis continues, "I actually interned with the medical examiner for the NYPD in New York."
Castle feels his heart lurch into his throat at his daughter suddenly unlocking the Pandora's box to those memories, suddenly tossing himself into a fit of cold sweating, palpitations, and uneven heartbeats. But he plays it off with his usual casual smirk. It's the reason he stayed out here, after all. It was just another life that he wasn't meant to live. "So, Rick," Greg asks him and Castle gives him his attention, "I never really asked you."
"What's that?" He asks as he takes the last foam swirling around the bottom of his IPA.
"What brought you out here exactly?" He asks, trying to make conversation. "I mean, you're a famous novelist from New York city, now you're living all the way out here in Crestfield?"
"Well," he sighs, playing it off, "it started as an extended summer vacation. At first, I was renting out the house. But eventually, it just... grew on me I guess."
"It's nice out here, huh?" Cecilia follows up.
"Oh, it's beautiful. Right by the lake," he points behind him to the lake, the shore curving away from the house, "but mostly it was the people."
"What do you mean?" Cecilia asks.
"I don't know, just..." Castle shrugs, "people out here are more... human. Everyone in New York is just, it's like they're in their own bubble."
"Yeah, nobody looks at you as really there." Greg says back with a nod.
"Exactly," Castle nods.
"Yeah, I grew up in Baltimore. You couldn't pay me enough to go back."
"You like it out here Alexis?" Cecilia asks.
"Yeah, I love it." She smiles. "It hasn't been just me and Dad in a long time. And even longer since he was home as much as he is now. His work with the NYPD kept him out a lot."
"Oh, that's right," Greg points out, "I remember reading that. You were a consultant for the NYPD."
"Mmhmm," Castle confirms while he hides his expression by taking an imaginary sip from his empty bottle.
"Hmm, I'm surprised they let civilians do that kind of thing." Cecilia points out. "What made you quit?"
Castle gulps and looks down to the patio floor. "Uh... just..." he feigns a frown and shrugs his shoulders. It seems like they don't read the tabloids. "My partner got promoted out of the precinct." He says, looking over to Alexis, who's eyeing him worriedly with a sorrowful expression as if she's apologizing for letting them bring it up. "And suffice it to say, my pull with politicians forcing law enforcement to put up with me bugging them ends with the New York city mayor."
They both seem to nod acceptingly as the conversation dies down. After a moment, Greg looks at his watch, "Oh, honey, we better go. It's getting kinda late."
"Well, we should at least help clean up, sweetie."
"No, I got it. Go ahead." Castle waves them off with a smile.
"You sure?" Cecilia asks.
"I'm sure. It was nice seeing you guys again." He lifts his hand in another wave as they make their way around the corner of the house and back across the street, both of them stopping briefly to love on Sasha, who's on her lead outside between two trees that gives her enough liberty to roam without being chained up.
"I'm sorry, Dad." Alexis says in a soft, honestly apologetic voice.
Castle nods with a heavy smile. "You know, sweetie..." he struggles to start, "you didn't have to cancel your trip for me. After she left, I know I was in a bad place, but you-"
"No, Dad," she stops him, getting up off her chair and moving over to him, leaning down to put her arms around his neck. Castle chuckles and reaches up to hug her back. "I'm happy out here. I'm just sorry that they brought it up."
"Alexis," he sighs contently, glad it's over. She leans back with a worried twinge in her brow. "Eventually..." he sighs and stands up in front of his daughter, "it will be just like any other break up. I've accepted what happened and I've moved on. Just... this one took a bit more... moving, that's all."
Alexis sighs hard and lets her shoulders slump. "But Dad, she didn't even come to meet you."
"Alexis," he chuckles.
"She just left, you didn't even get to-"
"Alexis." He stops her with a smile, putting his hands on her arms. "You have an awfully strange way of being sorry for the neighbors bringing up my break up."
Alexis smiles, almost bashfully, running a hand behind her ear. "Sorry."
"It's okay, pumpkin." He smiles. "I've got some leftovers Sasha's been eyeing me for for the last two hours, okay?" Alexis nods and heads inside through the back door.
Castle sighs deeply to himself and grabs what's left of the meat and heads through the yard over to Sasha.
Eventually, it will be just like any other break up for him. The only difference with this one is he can't go back to who he was. He made himself into someone better for her. And at the end of it all, it still didn't matter. Maybe he should have stayed and just argued with her in her apartment that afternoon. At least then, he would have gotten her break up straight to his face instead of her just leaving. She never did get back to him after he called her that next afternoon. He waited for her to show up, gave her some benefit of the doubt when she didn't.
Eventually, he will be over all of that. All he needs to happen now is eventually to actually get here.
A/N: I was going to put the context of the last paragraph into a summary, but never figured out a way to do it. So uh... no, I'm not making this easy. Not at all. Possible, but not easy. Also, instead of trying to research a town that I've never been to, I decided to just to make one up.
