It's not exactly comforting being back in Manhattan. It's nostalgic, but not in the sense that it gives a sense of familiarity or security. Almost as if recognizing a kid who used to be the schoolyard bully as an adult.
Beckett's flight had gotten in late and at the end of it all, she was exhausted of emotion, had nothing left for any no bit of bad news to take. She had caught a cab from JFK and just decided to go to her dad's place. She had snuck in but it looked like he was out of town, probably on business. Waking up off the couch in the living room, still in her black slacks and white, scratchy blouse, she just decided to run her fingers through the frizzy mess on her head and tie it back into a low ponytail and get down to work.
With one call, she had an appointment set with the commissioner and is headed there now on the subway. While sitting in the throngs of people in the car with her, she sifts through her personal email. She doesn't check it all that often but McCord said that she'd email her a link to where the movers were delivering her stuff. She had a storage unit rented out for a month and is just searching for which one it is. She finds the email and after seeing that her stuff isn't due to be delivered until tomorrow, she scoffs to herself, rolls her eyes, and lets her head fall against the bar she's hanging onto, slipping her phone back into her pocket.
Left in the noisy silence of the subway car for a moment, she remembers how useless her self discipline in not letting her thoughts wander is now.
She likes to think she's done a fairly decent job of it, all things considered. She had very important things to distract herself with. Her job, her assignment, the assignment after that, the one after that, if the assignment before was really closed, if the one she was on made her a target. It was a demanding job.
But now she's back home. She's working to get her old life back. She knows it's only a matter of time.
She never had time for that one big break down. No kidding, she thinks briefly, smirking to herself. It was the big break down that she was trying to get away from. She still has the voice mail saved on her phone, but she only played it the one time. Even so, she gets the same knot in her system every time she has to check her voice mail and sees the one she can't bring herself to delete.
She needed his arms last night.
The subway stalls to a halt and she quickly darts out of the door before the rush comes clogs her way and up the steps, briskly walking ahead of the usual flow of foot traffic. The air is wet with a rain that hit last night, and the tires of the taxis are still slushing through the puddles. The city seems more depressing than she remembers it being. She shakes the thought away and quickly makes the last few blocks before she reaches the commissioner's office.
She can't help but feel a real, soft smile bloom onto her exhausted face as she sees the seal of the NYPD above the door. A warm, familiar feeling of real purpose is starting to flare in her stomach. It's a feeling she hasn't felt in a long time. Knowing what right and wrong are, knowing what side she's fighting for, it's a powerful feeling now looking at that seal.
She pushes out a content sigh and jumps up the stone steps and pulls the door open, quickly taking the elevator up to the third floor and stepping out and finding the secretary sitting at her computer, lifting a paper to-go coffee cup to her lips as she types one-handed. Beckett stops momentarily, her eyes locking onto her cup, but the tide only lasts a second before she reverts her eyes to the ground and announces her arrival.
"Ahem..." Beckett clears her throat broadly.
The secretary, an older red-headed woman, if not a bit homely, looks up over her glasses and recognizes Beckett right away. "Mmm..." she exclaims over her coffee, and after downing it, continues, "you must be Kate Beckett."
"Yes." She says with a smile.
"Oh, please," the secretary says and stands up, "Commissioner Winslow is expecting you."
"Thank you." She says under her breath and walks past the secretary's desk and through the door ahead of her.
In the office, the police commissioner sits behind a large, oak desk, his phone to one ear, and a pen in the other. At the sound of the door, he looks up and gives her a wave inside. She nods, shuts the door behind her and meagerly makes for one of the leather wingbacks sitting in front of his desk. She sits down and clasps her hands together and looks down to the carpet as the commissioner smiles to whoever's on the other end of the line.
"Alright, I'll have that on my desk by..." the commissioner readies his pen, "Monday, good. Alright, yeah, you too." The commissioner clacks his receiver down and gives her a big smile. "Kate Beckett." He says to her and extends his hand over his desk.
She smiles and gives his hand a firm shake. "Good to see you, Sir."
"You too, you too." He says and leans back in his chair. "Gates told me you made the big leagues in DC."
Beckett chuckles breathlessly and looks back down to her lap. "Yeah, I did." She agrees, skimping on the details.
"Well, what brings you back here? Career cop like you, DC would be a dream job." The commissioner asks her, maybe complimenting her, leaning on an elbow.
"Well, Sir..." She trails off, at a loss as to how to explain it. She hadn't given it any thought. She... she can't tell people she was fired. For what? According to the books, she's supposed to be in jail right now. Deciding only on a whim, she lets it out. "The job in DC wasn't exactly what I thought it was."
Commissioner Winslow raises his brow in surprise. "Oh? How so?"
Beckett nods, "The AG's office just seems... more interested in an area of law enforcement that I didn't sign up for. I mean," she stops, looking up to him again, "they have an important job, but... I just wasn't cut out for it. I'm..." she smiles, almost proudly, "I'm a homicide detective, Sir. That's what I was made for."
His eyes seem to soften with understanding a bit and he gives her a nod before tossing himself forward in his chair and sorting out the papers on his desk. "Well, Beckett..." he sighs, "your record speaks for itself. Youngest to ever make detective, pretty high closure rate, a bit of a rogue at times, it seems but..." he chuckles as he looks over her record, "the best cops always are."
She laughs, "Thank you, Sir."
He smiles with a silent chuckle as he continues to read her record. "All that being said," he says and slowly flips her file closed and folds his hands together on top of it, "I'm uh..."
Her throat tightens uncomfortably. "Is there a problem, Sir?"
"Well," he says and clicks on his mouse, "none of the precincts are really in need of another homicide detective."
She swallows past the ever-growing lump in her throat, "What-what about the 12th? Shouldn't they-"
"The 12th's homicide division is doing fine. Gates is reporting a strong case closure rate." He tells her, not looking at his monitor. And when she notices it, it's almost as if he had prepared it, as if he was ready with it. Like everything before was...
"Well," Beckett shakes her head, "there has to be something, Sir. I-I mean..." she chuckles despite herself, "I belong in the NYPD, Sir."
With that, the Commissioner's eyes lose all light and he looks away from her before letting out a long, heavy sigh. "Beckett," he says despairingly, "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."
"What..." she struggles to start. There can't be more. "What do you mean?"
"Beckett, because of your..." the commissioner starts in a more regretful voice, "actions... in DC, whatever they may be, I'm afraid you've been blacklisted from law enforcement."
She feels her entire system fold in on herself. All she can do is stare at the man behind the desk with wide, lost eyes. It takes a long moment for her to shake her head and regain a few of her senses. "What... blacklisted, what does that mean?"
"It means the federal government has barred you from practicing law enforcement... on any level."
"Wha..." she tries again, still not wanting to believe anything that she's hearing. "But, Sir, they can't do that!" She starts to argue, quickly sitting up in her chair.
"They can... Beckett."
As the news starts to set it, her heart feels ripped from her chest. Her eyes feel cold, her tear ducts burning, but not letting any tears fall. Being a cop, having that badge... it was her whole life. She lived for that job. It was her purpose. She can never get it back. It feels as if she's feeling a part of her is being killed inside of her. She thought that at the very least, she would have the 12th and being a homicide detective to fall back on. That she'd at least have some higher calling to go after.
But... she has nothing. She's lost... everything in her life.
"I'm sorry, Beckett. I wish there was something I could do."
She lets his words of comfort go through her ears as she cranes her neck.
She pulls her arms into her stomach, suddenly feeling an intense chill rush over her. God, she needs his arms right now.
It's around noon that day when she wanders around, eventually making her way to her apartment building. Her phone died during her meeting with the commissioner. In the haste, she forgot to pack her power cord for her phone. She can do without it. It's probably a good deterrent to avoid going digging through painful memories she has stored away.
The shock has worn off, and now that she just feels lost, all she can do is go home. She's lost so much. And somehow... she can't find anyone to blame.
Eventually, she tiredly walks up to her apartment door, hearing some Irish punk rock come through the walls of her apartment. Sofie has company. On an almost frustrated sigh, Beckett knocks on the door and waits. She hears the music get turned down and the creak of the floorboards right where the coat closet is. After a moment, the door opens to the sight of her cousin Sofie in a pair of black boy shorts and a baggy grey long sleeve t-shirt. Her raven black hair is cut short to her jawline and held back with a bright red headband.
"Katie!" She smiles.
Beckett smiles a tired smile. "Hey, Sofe."
"Hey!" She sighs happily and steps through the door to hug her cousin. Beckett hugs her back softly. They had fun together as kids up in New Hampshire but Sofie never really stuck to one path. Beckett was always more focused. "It's good to see you. I wasn't expecting you back so soon." Sofie says, stepping back.
"Yeah, well..." she nods, "I wasn't either, really." She mutters. "Mind if I come in. We kinda need to talk."
"Oh, sure. Come on in." Sofie says, ushering her inside, kicking a pile of jackets out of the way. "Sorry about the mess. Scott and I had a bit of a get together last night."
Beckett hardens and feels her hopes be given up at the sound of that name. With her hands tucked into the pockets of her slacks, she feels her neck crane as Sofie closes the door behind her. "No problem." Sofie skirts around her and into the living room while Beckett slowly meanders into her old living room where she finds a tall, out of shape but not exactly overweight guy, his arms covered in tattoos, pulling a white t-shirt over his head, clad in a pair of baggy blue jeans that hang over his feet.
"Um, Scotty?" Sofie says, gaining the attention of her boyfriend. The man quickly turns around, his hair dishevled. "You remember my older cousin, Kate."
"Oh-oh..." he chuckles, "the lady cop, right?"
Beckett narrows her eyes. "Something like that." She quickly looks over to her cousin, eyeing her intently. "Sofie, can we talk?" She demands, nodding her head over to the kitchen. Marching into the kitchen with her hands tucked into her pockets, she turns to find Sofie giving her a flat browed glare. "Scott? Really?" She says quietly.
"What?" Sofie shrugs her shoulders. "He's a good guy, okay?"
"He also cheated on you and maxed out Aunt Leddy's credit card."
"He was just going through some stuff, Katie. He's a different guy now." Sofie defends him.
"Isn't that what you said about Jeffery? Need I remind you how I had to use my badge to get you out of that?"
"Scotty isn't like that. He's straightened out."
Beckett scoffs, pinches her forehead and closes her eyes. "Listen, that's not even why I'm here. Look," she says, looking at her cousin who just crossed her arms defensively, "things didn't work out in DC. I'm gonna need my apartment back."
"I'm sorry, Katie, but Scotty and I already have the next few month's rent paid up. I just hit my top out salary at my job and Scott asked me to marry him."
Beckett grits her teeth at her cousin's decision and gives her a deadpan stare.
"We're starting a life together here, Kate. I'm not gonna uproot all of this just because you lose your fancy FBI job."
"Oh, what," Beckett begins to fight back, "like the guy that cheated on you with the neighbor's dog walker is going to be the guy that stays loyal to his wife?"
Hearing that, Sofie smiles angrily and narrows her eyes. "Oh, you are really one to be going around giving relationship advice."
Beckett's throat closes, her nails digging into her palms. "What's that suppose to mean?" She says in a small, hesitant squeak of a voice.
"You had..." Sofie begins pointedly, "the perfect guy. Rich, romantic, gorgeous, and treated you like you brought the sun up in the morning, and what do you do?" Beckett's out of breath, having it all brought up to her with no warning and no hesitancy. "You leave him without even blowing him a kiss goodbye to be a fed!"
"Shut up!" She spits through gnashing teeth, anger seething. She can feel tears burning and stinging her eyes. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"
Sofie just sighs, pursing her lips at her cousin. "Look," she starts calmly, "you're family, so if you need a place to crash, you can stay here, but... Scott and I are happy and I don't want to hear anything about it if you stay here, okay?"
Beckett, feeling insulted, looks passed her cousin and into the living room, where she can see the open door to her bedroom, where her boyfriend is at the dresser digging through the top drawer.
She swallows and feels herself harden. She doesn't need this. After everything she's been through the past twenty-four hours, this is the last thing she needs. Getting fired from her job in DC, losing her place in the NYPD forever, it was crushing, but she walked away from it with her pride intact.
So without a word, Beckett slides passed her cousin and goes back out the door.
His time has gotten faster over the last few months, but he thinks he's peaked.
His legs carry him through the trail with ease and speed, his jogging sweats damp at the rims from running through the foliage of the thick woods. Five miles, every morning. But lately, he's been trying something different. As he nears the familiar bench that faces the lake, he deviates from the path and jogs through the woods, hopping over bushes, branches, and rocks until he reaches the stone boulder that protrudes out of the ground.
Getting back into shape was a bit of a feat at first, but it feels good. One of the big things that got him to feel better about himself, kept him from flying out of control after she left.
Once he reaches the boulder, he jumps on top, then quickly hops onto the thick branch that's within jumping distance from the ledge, then jumps from the branch and grabs onto branch overhead. With a grunt as the bark digs into his fingers, he flips his hands over and hooks his feet together, then begins to pull himself up.
"One..." he counts, "two... thrr... three..." he struggles. He can make it to ten. He started last week on a whim. "Four... five..."
Once his chin is up and over the branch, he lets himself down again and begins to pull himself up again. "Si-" he's stopped by the sound of the branch cracking, "oh, crap," he grits to himself halfway up just as the branch snaps and lets him fall to the floor of the woods, landing square on his back.
It knocks the wind out of him and he's left on the ground, a dull pain aching through his spine.
"Are you okay?" A woman's voice calls from a distance.
He chooses not to answer as he kicks his feet out to try and climb himself up. "Aghhh..." he groans.
Castle hears the woman's footsteps through the foliage come to a slow stop near him. "I saw you fall. Are you okay? Well-" she seems to stop herself, "of course, you're not, you wouldn't be on the ground. Here," she says.
Castle feels her grab onto his arm with one hand then wrap another arm around his chest, helping him to sit up as he continues to groan with his eyes wincing closed.
"How are you feeling?" She asks him, putting her hand on his triceps.
"Like I should have quit while I was ahead." He painfully mutters as his spine starts to throb. When he finally manages to open his eyes, he feels his heart flutter with a feeling he hasn't felt in what feels like years.
She's blonde, her hair short yet really naturally wavy without being curly. Her eyes are bright blue. An attractive slope in her jawline and lift in her cheekbones, and a bright, happy, smile. A healthy, slender figure wrapped in a pair of black leggings and a pink tank top.
"Are you sure?" She asks him. "Here, can you stand up?" She ushers him up.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He tells her and slowly lifts himself up to his feet.
"Here, let me make sure." She says and quickly, without warning, or even permission puts her hands on the small of his back as she moves behind him. "Don't worry," she starts from behind him as he looks over his shoulder, "I'm a doctor. Well," she chuckles, "kind of."
"Kind of?!" He turns around.
"Well," she stays behind him, poking her thumbs into the small of his back at his spine, "for dead people mainly but... you're kinda the same except, you know... more moving parts."
Castle's brow pinches. "Thank you?"
"Nothing feels out of place. I assume you can still feel your legs considering you're standing and everything." She tells him and quickly jumps back in front of him. "Maybe just try to find a thicker branch next time?" She tells him with a bright-eyed smile and plants her hands on her hips.
"Yeah," he chuckles, "that way I can fall from an even thicker branch and humiliate myself in front of a doctor for dead people."
The woman's smile engulfs her features and she nods with him. "Just be sure not to end up as one of my patients. I'm not sure if I can handle the press asking me how I just happen to come across the mangled body of Richard Castle in the woods."
He stops, his heart fluttering momentarily. "You know who I am?"
"Oh," she starts bashfully, her cheeks turning beet red, "well, I uh... I'm kind of a fan of your work." Castle's smile softens. "Especially the Heat series. I just love you build both characters up instead of using the tearing down of one to build the other up, it... it's just a really good dynamic."
"That's uh..." he says with a nod of his head, a softness coming into his system, "that's actually a really nice compliment." He tells her, looking over to her. "One I don't get too often, actually."
"Well," she chuckles bashfully again, "I'm more complimentary than my sister. When she mentioned you'd bought the house across from her-"
"Oh," he stops her, "you're Cecilia's sister?" He points at her.
She smiles and gives him an eager nod. "I'm Sierra, the older one."
"It's nice to meet you then, Sierra." He says, extending his hand.
She looks down to his hand and draws in a long breath before shaking his hand softly. "Like-like wise, the pleasure is mine. I mean, I'm the fan meeting the author, after all."
"Well, it was pleasant for me too, so don't worry." He charms.
Sierra laughs and nods with him. "Well uh... since I know you're kinda new in town, would you... like to get some coffee? I could show you some local landmarks."
It's with that that the reality of the situation hits him. He can't say it blindsided him. She's really beautiful, after all, but... if he was the man he was a few years ago... "I'm uh..." he sighs hardly, "I actually just got out of a relationship... so..."
Sierra chuckles uncomfortably and looks away. "I was just asking to get some coffee."
Castle nods, "I know and if I was the man I was a few years ago, I would pretend like I didn't know where that would eventually end up and go along with it but... I'm sorry, I'm just not really ready."
Realizing she's being rejected, Sierra looks down to the ground. "Okay." She forces a smile up at him.
"No, really, because you're... you're really pretty and..." he chuckles, "you seem like a really fun person, but... I'm just not really ready."
"No, I," she trails off, waving her hand at him, "I totally understand. Don't worry."
Castle nods to her, honestly thankful. "Thank you."
She smiles at him. "See you around?"
"Hopefully not as a client." He lifts his brow at her.
With a bright laugh and an even brighter smile, she turns with a flick of her fingers and begins to jog away from him.
A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter. Next will be a more pivotal chapter.
