A/N: Have to put this at the beginning, otherwise I run the risk of angry reviews. This chapter is very 'Rick heavy'. For some, it may feel like a filler chapter, but it kinda needs to happen for the plot, but the next chapter I think will make up for it. Thanks again to all you awesome-sauce people that have followed this story. You guys are pretty much what keeps me writing.
Sasha lays flat on his chest on her side, her head tucked up underneath his. He has his arm wrapped around her, his hand buried in the thick fur on her side. She's snoring softly, in heaven as she sleeps directly on top of her master, who she's missed the past two days with him being gone. Rick lays across the couch, just resting his body, half asleep, his mind quiet.
It's soothing, just laying here with what he can honestly consider his best friend, his dog. He always had an impulse to pet an animal if one was around when he was growing up. Part of the reason why Sasha is so attached to him, if she comes up to him, it will just be a few seconds before he starts petting her and giving her attention. He always wanted a dog like Sasha growing up. He was even going to adopt one when Alexis was a toddler, but he couldn't bring himself to basically sequester a dog like Sasha to a life in the loft, as spacious as it is, never going outside in the fresh air or the grass.
It's one of the small reasons why he stayed out here. Him and his dog, Sasha, just spending hours in town at the park playing fetch.
Sasha snorts loudly on top of him as she lays flat on her side, getting a hitch in her breath as she sleeps. After a minute of Rick recharging, he can feel the presence of his daughter in the living room. Feeling a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, he stays quiet. He hears her snap a picture from her phone then hears her swallow a soft chuckle.
"Can you text that one to me?" He asks her in a slurred voice.
"Hmm," Alexis chuckles softly again, "sure, Dad."
At the sound of Alexis's voice, Sasha wakes up and pops her head off her human's chest, looking over to her as she approaches her father. Rick puts his arms around Sasha when she wakes up, kissing the dog playfully on her head, earning a few playful sniffs from her before she lays her head back down to his chest.
"So," Alexis starts, coming around to sit on the coffee table across from her dad, "I thought you said you'd be back last night, what happened?" Rick looks over to her to gauge his daughter's expression. It's not a judgement like it would be with his mother, she's just curious. "Did you work late at the police station? You look tired."
He nods, feeling his heart sink at the same time Sasha adjusts herself on top of him and lays her head down across his shoulder instead of on his chest. He doesn't want to lie to her. Alexis is the only consistently good thing in his life. "Actually, I was with Beckett last night." He says, his voice low and overly steady.
He can see Alexis start to waver in her soft confidence of the situation. "Really?"
Rick's eyes fall away and he puts reaches up, petting Sasha gently. "I went over to just talk." He starts to explain, looking over to his daughter's worried expression for a moment. "And we ended up getting into a fight." He finishes in a weighted voice. Alexis gives him a signal that she understands and that she wishes something better had happened by craning her neck and clasping her hands together in her lap. "Long story short, I didn't get much sleep night so I'm kinda tired."
She gives him a nod, feigned with casual understanding as she brushes her red hair that's running down an inch or so passed her shoulders. "So you and Beckett are..." she spitballs, not wanting to just outright say it.
Rick moves his hand up through Sasha's fur, hugging his loyal dog to him as he stares at the stucco on the ceiling. "Nothing's changed, Alexis." He says heavily. "Things just got heated and neither one of us stopped it."
He hates having to explain this kind of this to his daughter. He always dreaded early in her childhood, especially after Meredith left him, that he'd have to pull her out of this type of life and type of situation, that he'd be the one sitting her down and explaining just how wrong it is after he realized he would have to let his daughter grow up without her own mother there.
"But," he continues on a soft sigh, "we talked it over around three o'clock this morning, apologized, and I came home, took a shower, and..." he says, nodding his head over to nuzzle against Sasha lovingly, "decided to spend some time with this poor, neglected puppy."
While he scratches Sasha's ribcage under her thick black and tan coat, Alexis smiles. "I can tell she missed you the last couple of days." She says, reaching over from the coffee table and scratching her on her hind leg. "But she got attached to Ethan when he was here a couple nights ago."
"Hmm," Rick hums in a chuckle, still softly scratching his dog that lays flat on top of him. "So, you and him are getting pretty serious then, huh?" He asks her, never missing an opportunity to show he's invested in his daughter's life and her wellbeing.
Alexis's face is overcome with both a blush and a bright smile. "Yeah," she answers in a light voice. "He's great, I've..." she trails off, tossing her hands up in the air before clasping them together in her lap again, "I've never felt like this about anyone before."
Rick nods with a soft smile. "So, you're getting pretty close?" He asks, not wanting to just blurt it out.
But Alexis understands his wording and rolls her eyes. "We talked about it already, Dad. He said that he'd actually prefer to wait." Rick's brow shoots up in surprise. "I mean," she shakes her head with a smile, her eyes looking away, "he's really cute, but... he says he wants to make sure that I'm around for more than that and... he says he wants to make sure that I know he is too, so... we're both happy waiting until the..." she sais, her voice getting lighter, her eyes lighting up, "the right time."
Rick smiles softly, pride for his daughter swelling inside of him. "You know, you're a much better person than I am, pumpkin."
"You should try and give yourself a break every once in a while, Dad." She answers his compliment. "I mean, you and Beckett have always been anything but simple."
While Rick stares at the ceiling, feeling Sasha sleep soundly on top of him, his brain starts to nag him, his heart soon following it by sinking back into his stomach. "Alexis, what do you think of when you think about your childhood?" He asks, honestly wanting to know, not as a way to seek a compliment, but just wanting to know what she thinks. He turns his head against the arm of the couch to look over to her, seeing she's looking at him with a crease in her brow. "What was it like for you when you think back?"
She smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "I had a great childhood, Dad." When he keeps her eyes, she understands that he's silently wanting her to expand on it. "I mostly think of you when I think back to my childhood. You were always going with me to field trips, you were at every recital and concert, you were just... always there."
Rick feels a smile on his face as he turns back to look at the ceiling. "Well, I just wanted you to make sure you knew that I loved you, pumpkin." He says, letting his head turn back and look over to her.
"I know you do, Dad." She answers obviously. "Why, was..." she trails off, her brow falling, "was there something bothering you? You're a great dad."
Rick nods to himself and lets his eyes travel away from her. "Only terrible parents say that they weren't terrible parents, Alexis." He says, heaviness returning to his voice.
"Well, what is it you wish you could have changed then, Dad?" She asks, her tone suggesting there's nothing he could have possibly done better. It wasn't his intention to make her see him as the biggest person in the world that loved her more than anything when he stayed so committed to his daughter growing up. He just did it because he did love her more than anything else.
"I wish I could have given you your mother." He says in a very somber tone. "I wish I could have gotten her to see in you what I saw when you were born... that I could have been able to convince her how great our lives were then with you in it." He explains as honestly as he can.
"Dad," Alexis smiles, "I get how Mom is." She explains to him, trying to take the burden off. "You were there." She lifts her hand to him. "And I had Gram."
Rick chuckles despite himself. "Alexis, if she was as involved in my childhood as she was in yours, we might not have to have this discussion."
"Oh, Dad, come on." Alexis tries with disbelief in her voice. "When we lived in New York, you were always complaining about how she was butting into your personal life."
"Alexis, I didn't grow up with that same woman, okay?" He explains to her, lifting his hand up off Sasha's side for a moment. "When I was born, your grandmother was..." his voice falls, trying to explain it as easily as he can without destroying the love his daughter has for her grandmother, "let's just say she was a lot more successful of an actress than she was when you were born."
His daughter's expression falls for a second, and he can tell that she already understands the main point of what he's trying to say.
"I know she did the best she could, but... as a kid, you don't really understand why your mother has to leave you with a baby sitter almost every night and then has to go away on the road for weeks at a time. So... that's why I asked you what you thought of when you think back to your childhood, pumpkin." He cushions his exposition. "Because I just wanted to make sure it was something better than what I think of."
"Dad," Alexis says on a nervous chuckle, "Gram is great." She says in a wavering voice, simply not wanting to fight with him on it. "And I don't exactly think that your dad was in any place to pick up the slack, was he?"
Rick nods, "Well, no." He answers her, raising his brow in agreement. "And considering that the only two people who know about him are sitting in this room, that's probably for the best when you think about just what the circumstances of that little family reunion." He says, knowing how terrible that trip was for both of them. "And Alexis," he says, his voice falling, "you know that I tried to get your grandmother to stay out here with us."
Alexis nods, "I know, Dad, she just didn't want to give up the city life."
"Well, maybe she'll change her mind when she comes down for your's and your boyfriend's wedding then." He fires out, quickly turning his head to nuzzle against Sasha again. As Alexis chuckles and rolls her eyes, Rick's phone goes off loudly in his back pocket.
"Rwoof!" Sasha barks just as loud directly into his ear.
"Shh!" Rick quiets her down with a smile, laughter getting the better of him as he puts a hand softly on her head to calm her down and reaches into his back pocket. He almost completely forgot about his commitment at the police station. He answers the call and puts the phone to his ear. "Castle."
"Castle!" The chief greets him on the line in his exuberant yet commanding voice.
"Hey, Chief." He says in a friendly tone, not moving to get up off the couch. "I was uh... just on my way out the door." He says, giving Alexis an obvious looking grimace, Sasha still laying flat on top of him. Alexis fights her smile and rolls her eyes.
"Ah, that's why I called you, Castle." The chief says happily. "No need for it, actually. Someone confessed to the crime this morning."
Rick's brow raises up in surprise. "Really? Someone confessed?"
"Yep," the chief continues, "saves us a lot of trouble."
"Do you mind if I ask who it was?" Rick asks.
"Ah," the chief exclaims, "it was a local hoodlum, some teenager, probably looking for thrills or something. I got a call from the principal of Crestfield High just a little while ago that said a student came to her office this morning and confessed. Had my officers go down and they're bringing him in now."
"Did they take his statement?"
"Mmhmm," the chief hums confidently, "they said his story checks out. He's bring brought in now, the DA is being notified, and we're trying to get in touch with his parents now."
"Well, uh..." Rick tries, urging Sasha off him as he slowly sits him off the couch, "do you mind if I come down and ask him a few questions?"
The chief laughs into the phone slightly. "I appreciate the assist, Castle, but that's not really necessary. We can take it from here."
"Why don't we call it an insurance policy, Chief." He says, using his charming tone. "You brought me on as an expert consultant after all. Maybe this kid had someone help him out or maybe he's just the fall guy that was pressured into taking the wrap."
The chief sighs hard. "Alright, Castle. I suppose it couldn't hurt. Come on down, we'll have him ready for you."
"Thanks, Chief." Rick says and hangs up, standing up quickly off the couch.
"Someone confessed?" Alexis asks him as he tries fruitlessly to brush Sasha's long strands of dog hair off the front of his shirt.
"Yes," he says and quickly moves around the coffee table to rush upstairs to change out his shirt, "which doesn't make sense."
After rushing to the police station in a new pair of jeans and a clean grey button-up and a charcoal sport coat, Rick pushes open the glass door of the police station, seeing the usual slow slew of activity around the large expanse of the desks around and the offices that line the walls, the empty interrogation room that makes the one from the 12th look like a full concert hall, in the back corner on the opposite end of the room.
Rick quickly moves through the desks, receiving a few smirks and smiles on his way toward the Chief's office, whose door is left cracked open. He sees the very large set, shaved-headed man stand up from his desk just as Sierra pulls open the door of his office with her usual, natural, happy smile, dressed in a set of park pink scrubs and running shoes, her short, shoulder-length hair died back in a short ponytail.
"Sierra," Rick says surprised as he approaches the office.
The doctor looks up with a bright smile when she sees him. "Rick!" She exclaims happily. "I wasn't expecting to see you here this early. You look kinda tired."
Rick checks himself and stiffens his expression. "I had kind of a late night after you dropped me off, that's all. What uh..." he waves at her, "what are you doing here?"
Sierra motions behind her with her shoulder, jabbing her thumb back toward the Chief's office, "I had to drop off my final report on the body. I can never figure out that stupid fax machine and the transcriptionist is out sick. So I figured I'd just drop it off myself. What about you? Chief just told me someone confessed."
The chief called me about fifteen minutes ago and told me. I wanted to come down and check the-" Rick's words get cut off when he sees Sierra look around him. He turns over his shoulder to follow her eyes and sees the two police that stopped by his house, the shorter, more portly and curly-haired one named Andy and the taller, more gangly one named Andrew. With them, they're escorting a tall, lengthy, very skinny teenager. His hair is short and spikey, died jet black. He's wearing well-worn, baggy Slipknot t-shirt over a tight-fitting black long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of baggy step chain jeans, buckles and chains hanging off the legs. His eyes are made up to be almost totally black, and he has an almost two-inch thick cloth collar around his neck.
The only sound in the station is the sound of the chains from the teenager's pants as he's lead through the station and into the interrogation room.
Rick hears the door to his side open and Chief's loud footsteps come out to stand next to Sierra. Rick turns back and looks over to the chief. "Is that the kid that confessed to the murder?"
"Yep," he begins, flipping open a folder in his hand. "John McAnders, seventeen, a junior at Crestfield high."
Rick looks at the front of the folder and notices it's not from the police station. "That's his permanent record from the school?" He asks him.
"Yep," the chief says and flips over a page, "kinda long too. The school faxed it over."
"They faxed this over?" Sierra asks. "They can figure out how to fax an entire file, I can't even figure out how to fax one lousy piece of paper, those stupid..."
"Chief, do you mind if I take a look?" He asks, pointing at the folder. The chief silently fips the folder closed and hands it to Rick, who quickly opens it and begins reading it.
"Here you go, Chief." Andrew says, handing Chief the statement they took.
"Hi, Dr. Baker," Rick hears the other, more portly officer say in a shy voice as Rick glances up from the file, seeing Sierra give him a friendly smile before going back to reading the teen's file.
"His story checks out, Chief." Andrew continues. "The details match."
Rick flips over two more pages and quickly takes in all the details. Multiple visits to the school nurse, left back a year last year, failing three classes and barely making passing grades in the others, spends a lot of time at in-school suspension, but... nothing indicating... "Um, Chief?" Rick asks, gaining everybody's eyes, but he only looks at the chief. "I'd like to talk to him."
The chief smirks, "Castle, you don't need to do that."
"Sir, you called me on as an expert consultant. There's just something in his school record that tells me there's more to it."
The chief eyes him for a second as he crosses his large arms over his stomach. "Don't suppose it could hurt anything to get the expert on it. Alright, go ahead."
Rick smiles thankfully as the officers slowly start to disperse around him, Chief handing him the statement the police took at the school before moving back into his office. When Sierra gives him a smile and starts to move around him, he stops her. "Sierra?" He asks in a light, friendly voice.
She turns back around with her naturally bright, honest, expectant smile.
"Do you think you could stick around for a minute?" Her brow creases curiously. "I have a hunch I'm going to need you."
Her expression turning serious rather quickly, Sierra gives him a quick, nervous nod. "Yeah, whatever you need."
After giving her a soft smile, he moves across the station, over to the room where the teenager is being held, stopping by the water cooler and pouring a small glass of water.
He wishes he didn't have to lead on this. Usually, he would just tell what he thinks is going on to her, and she'd understand him and take the lead. Right now, everyone's looking to him for the lead. If he's wrong on this, it's him that has to take the brunt of the blame. He could handle taking the brunt of the blame, but not without her. Because when it happened when they were together, she was there to back him up. But she's not.
Trying to rid his brain of the cobwebs crowding his thoughts, he clears his mind the best he can as he opens the door to the small interrogation room, where the goth teenager is sitting leaned back in the opposite chair with his arms crossed. "Hi, John." Rick says as he closes the door behind him.
The teen flicks his eyes up to him with his cold expression, then looks away from him, shifting his crossed arms as he slunks down in the chair. "What do you want?" He mutters.
Rick sets the paper cup down in front of him then moves to pull the other chair out. "I'm Richard Castle," he says in a friendly tone, "I just wanted to talk."
"Tsha..." The teen scoffs loudly and shakes his head, not looking Rick in the eye but looking down to the cup. "What do you want my DNA for? I already confessed to killing that old bitch."
Rick pushes up a smirk and nods. "Guess I was acting on instinct." He shrugs his shoulders, lying to the teen. "So, John..." Rick starts as he flips open his school record, then moves the yellow notepad that has his statement on it over, "I'd just like you to tell me exactly what happened." He says, quickly skimming the pad to read the teen's statement.
John looks over to the yellow pad, nodding his head toward it and still not looking at him. "What for? I already told them what happened." He says, pushing himself up when he slinks down in the chair a little too much.
"I just wanted to hear it straight from you, that's all." He says in a light tone, sitting straight up in the chair. "That shouldn't be a problem should it?"
John clenches his jaw hard for a moment. "Alright," he says as he turns to face Rick fully and grabs the small paper cup, throwing the water down his throat. Rick pays close attention as he swallows it, seeing his body flinch and tense as for a split second before he crumples the cup up and tosses it to the floor and finally looks over to him. "I killed her."
Rick remains calm, waiting for the teenager to continue.
"I snuck into her house... and I killed her." He says, leaning forward menacingly. "With my bare hands." He smiles with his menacing tone.
Rick nods, unphased. "Why'd you do it, John?"
John pushes against the edge of the table to throw himself back in the chair, crossing his arms. "Bitch was always yelling at me for skateboarding in her driveway. She didn't even own a car, what'd she need a driveway for? So on Friday night, I got fed up with her shit." He says, punching his words. "I snuck into her house... through one of the front windows... surprised her the living room. And I killed her." John stares over to Rick for a moment before leaning forward again. "And then... when it was done..." he smiles again, "I stood there... just to remember the feeling of killing."
Rick just keeps looking at him with a calm crease in his brow.
"After I got my fill," John shrugs his shoulders as he leans back, "I snuck back out the window and went back home."
Rick nods, pausing for a moment. "So, why are you confessing now if you killed her on Friday night? If it's remorse, you have a pretty strange way of showing it."
John shrugs again. "Figured you were already onto me. Might as well save you the trouble."
"Well, we appreciate that, John." Rick says, playing along with him as he looks back down to the file, flipping over a page to look back at one of the disciplinary records. His mind clicks things together when he looks down at the bottom of the paper, seeing the parent's signature. "You know, John," Rick starts again as he slowly flips the folder closed and clasps his hands together, "you're seventeen, you're old enough to be tried as an adult."
John just stares at him coldly.
"Chances are... premeditated murder in the first degree... twenty-five years to life, maybe parole in thirty if you stay out of the gangs in prison."
"Big deal," John throws off, slinking down in the chair. "They treat murders like kings in prison anyway."
"Only people who murder cops, John." Rick points out, earning John's attention, seeing a hint of fear in his demeanor. "I don't think they'll treat someone who murdered a defenseless old lady in her own home with the same amount of respect."
After a moment, John chills his expression again and looks away, crossing his arms. "I don't care."
Rick gives John a large nod before lifting his hands up and leaning back. "Well, then I guess that's it. I'll uh... go tell the chief that everything's in order and to go ahead and file the charges with the DA then."
"Good," John says quickly.
"I just uh..." Rick starts slowly, "have one more question for you, John." The teenager doesn't bother looking up to him, but Rick looks at him in close detail, looking down to the cloth collar that everyone else thinks is for decoration. "When was the last time your stepfather beat you?"
The teenager cracks then and there, the cold and gruff exterior he put up falling away in an instant, giving way to the scared, terrified kid underneath.
A few minutes later, Rick opens the door with a heavy heart, leaving the door open to John, who's trying his hardest to choke back emotional sobs that sound through the entire precinct.
Sierra is the first to come up to him as Rick moves slowly away from the interrogation room. "What happened?" She asks him as officers start to peer into the interrogation room and the chief comes up to stand next to Sierra.
Rick looks up to the chief. "He didn't do it."
Andy, the shorter portly officer comes to stand next to him. "What are you talking about?" He asks him on a laugh. "The kid confessed."
Rick sends the officer a glare, seeing him give Sierra an obvious smirk as if he seems to think she would agree with him. "He confessed to the crime, but he didn't commit it, Sir."
"Why would this kid confess to a murder that he didn't commit?" The chief asks him, his eyes narrowing and his hand motioning toward the room behind him.
"Over his time in high school, he's been to the school nurse for everything from a dislocated shoulder to bruised ribs. Right now, he has bruising around his neck from where his stepfather choked him unconscious that he's trying to hide under that collar he's wearing. That makeup he has on is to cover up the marks from where he got hit in the eye, and I wouldn't be surprised if under those sleeves, he was cutting himself."
"Wait," Andrew says from the other side of the chief, "why would he confess to a murder that he didn't do?"
Rick looks over to him sternly. "Because he'd rather spend the rest of his life in prison than have to spend another day in his own personal Hell at home." He says to the officer before looking back up to the chief. "Sir, he's just a terrified kid who didn't know what else to do and he needs help."
Chief nods commandingly. "I'll have his parents brought in and have a talk with them personally, call social services and get him somewhere safe while I work on a case against his stepfather."
Sierra turns to the chief, "I can start looking him over to catalog his injuries and make sure he's alright."
"Go ahead," the chief says with another commanding nod. Sierra smiles softly then looks back over to Rick with a happy smile as she moves to make her way over to John in interrogation. Rick smiles back at her, silently communicating that they understand each other and why he asked her to stick around as she pats his arm when she moves around him. "Thank you, Dr. Baker." The chief says. "But Castle," he continues, "this kid gave us a detailed statement about the murder."
"Yes," Rick says in a knowing tone. "And since he didn't commit the murder, that can only mean one thing, that he saw it happen."
