Chapter 6
As the elevator doors opened up on the Twelfth Precinct's homicide division, Kate Beckett took in a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. She was ready to go back to work—absolutely. But ready to go back to work and being at work were two slightly different things.
In years past, prior to her shooting and subsequent year of emotional and physical healing, Kate probably would have been stubborn enough to insist that she was perfectly fine to return to work almost immediately after Tyson had released her. She would have thrown herself into new cases, inevitably have been too aggressive about solving them, and slipped back into some of her unhealthy coping mechanisms. Thankfully, that version of herself was in the past, and she knew that taking the time to process one's feelings was not a sign of weakness, but one of strength. Even if not completely for herself, she was in a serious, committed relationship with someone and it would not have been fair to him for her to brush off the need for recovery and negatively affect their relationship in the process. While she would not have said that she had fully processed everything that happened—particularly since what had happened was still ongoing—she did feel ready to return to work so long as she continued her sessions with Dr. Burke.
As Kate walked through the hall towards her desk, she tried not to read too much into the polite smiles and waves she received from her colleagues. The toxic part of her brain tried to tell her that those people knew about her circumstance and were giving her pitying looks instead of polite ones. She knew better than to allow those negative thoughts, but it was easier said than done. She knew that the situation she was in was the fault of no one other than Jerry Tyson and it was simply something she had to accept and not let continue to darken her life—and she could do that…it would all just be easier of Tyson was in custody instead of potentially lurking around every corner.
"Good morning, detective; welcome back." Captain Gates met her just beside her desk.
Kate smiled at the elder woman. "Thank you, Captain."
"How are you feeling?"
"Okay. The nausea can come and go, but it hasn't been too disruptive."
Gates nodded. "Glad to hear it. Please don't hesitate to let me know if there's something that you need."
Kate thanked her, then turned towards Ryan and Esposito, who were next in line to greet her. "Morning," she said to them.
"Welcome back, Beckett. We've left a few days' worth of paperwork for you to work on, so just let us know when you're ready," Esposito teased.
Kate snorted and gave a half-hearted eyeroll. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate—oh." She commented when she pulled out her chair and found sitting on it a pastel pink gift bag about the size of a small tissue box. "Did you guys give me this?"
"Ah, no, not from us," Ryan told her. He continued in a quieter voice, "But word kind of got around about what happened. Sorry Beckett."
She shrugged, having already accepted the fact that most of her coworkers would have been made aware of her maternity status thanks to the rumor mill. She hadn't expected any gifts, though. Curious, she picked up the bag and peered inside. She spotted a rolled-up piece of white cloth and pulled it out. When it unfurled, she realized it was a newborn baby onesie. The back was just plain white, but when she flipped it around to read the black letters printed on the front, she dropped the item down onto the desk with a curse.
"What?" her coworkers asked in unison.
"It's from Tyson," she croaked out, the blood freezing in her veins. Once again, he had used his skills to sneak into the precinct unseen. Only this time, instead of visiting the man he'd framed, he had left her a taunting present.
"Captain Gates!" Ryan shouted, and soon the four of them had crowded around Kate's desk to peer down at the onesie that crumpled against her computer keyboard. The words "Who's your daddy" were printed in it in block letters. To anyone unfamiliar with her situation, the item might have seemed like a bizarre gag gift, but to everyone aware it was a cruel joke.
"Sick bastard," Gates commented.
"I touched the bag, and the onesie," Kate commented softly.
Gates patted her arm and instructed her to sit in the guest chair typically occupied by her writer companion. "Esposito, get security footage of this floor for the past twelve hours. I'm going to call CSU to do a full sweep. And I'll call the FBI," she added grudgingly.
"He's not going to be on the footage," Kate added halfheartedly before Gates could walk away. The two women me gazes, the captain nodded, and then returned to her office, leaving Kate alone with the offending item of clothing.
In terms of actual threats, the onesie was innocuous. It was so basic that anyone in the Twelfth precinct could have left it on her chair to tease her or mess with her. Kate liked to think that none of the people she worked with would be as cruel as to mock her for one of the most difficult things she had ever experienced. Was it possible? Sure. But it seemed far more likely that it was Tyson who had left the present. Providing such a subtle way of letting her know that he was still watching felt very much like his style.
Kate remained seated in the guest chair for an unknown period of time, only half listening to the hustle and bustle around her, mostly wondering in what ways Tyson was watching her. Had he put sound or video recording devices in her apartment? In Castle's? Did he have minions spying on her on the street? Was he paying off someone at the Twelfth to report back? When it came to Jerry Tyson almost anything was possible.
She was so lost in her musings that it was actually Castle who roused her, by crouching down by her side, gripping her forearm with his hands and asking, "Kate, god, Kate are you alright?"
"C-Castle," she stammered. "How…where did you come from?"
"Ryan texted me that Tyson left you a present and I left right away. Caught all green lights," he told her with the quirk of his lips. "What happened? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, of course not. It's just this stupid onesie," she said, gesturing towards the keyboard. "Don't touch it."
Castle nodded and stood from where he crouched so he could see the object. She watched as his lips pressed together to form a straight line and he gazed down at her with a tight brow. "Where was it?"
"On my chair in that gift bag." She stood from the chair and brought her hands up to squeeze his bicep saying softly, "Thanks for coming." If Ryan had asked her first, she would have said it was entirely unnecessary to ask Castle to come down to be with her, but she couldn't bring herself to admit she was mad he was there. It was actually rather sweet that he felt compelled to drop everything and come to her side when she wasn't in any sort of active danger. And, the more that she thought about it, it would actually nice to have him with her when the FBI arrived, even if she already knew there would be no traces of Tyson left behind and the search for him would remain just as stalled as ever.
Stepping out of the elevator onto the homicide floor, Castle nearly ran into one of the uniformed officers walking purposefully down the hall. He yelped out an apology and cradled the tray of coffees he carried, just narrowly missing the disaster of spilling all four of them onto the floor. He then made his way to the main seating area where he handed Ryan and Esposito their post-lunch jolts of caffeine. Noticing his partner was not at her desk, he walked into the break room to find her munching on a sleeve of sandwich crackers with a particularly irritated look on her face.
"Here," he said, holding out the take-away cup of coffee to her. "It's decaf."
She accepted it graciously and took a sip. Then, looking down at it with notable distain added, "You know this is the most disappointing part about pregnancy."
Castle laughed and understood as he had also given up caffeine in solidarity, just like alcohol. Without question he missed the caffeine more. Prior to this experience he considered decaffeinated coffee an insult to his favorite beverage and would have been loath to purchase let alone drink it. Tragically, though Kate was allotted up to twelve ounces of regular coffee per day during her pregnancy, she had quickly found that the caffeine gave her unpleasant side effects. Switching to the decaf resolved the issue immediately, thus she was stuck with the inferior beverage for the foreseeable future.
"It's still coffee."
"I suppose," she grumbled. She then took another sip and stuffed the remaining cracker into her mouth. After throwing the plastic packaging away she turned to him and said, "He's watching us, you know—Tyson."
Castle sighed and tapped his fingers against the coffee cup he held. "Yeah, I figured he'd bugged the loft, and your place. Or at least surveilled us now and then. How else would he monitor you to know if you'd terminated?" Castle thought aloud. Tyson was hardly one for empty threats and he had to know that Kate was immensely unhappy with the situation she'd been forced into. Even if he was banking on Kate protecting Castle at all costs, and thus not considering terminating the pregnancy to protect him, the serial killer didn't exactly seem overly trusting, given the sneaky things he'd done over the years.
"Right."
"But that also means he's close. Close enough for us to find and capture." His voice echoed with the determination his brain knew wasn't possible. No matter how smart they were, Jerry Tyson was smarter. That was the problem with one's nemesis being an extremely determined and crafty serial killer. Their only hope at that point was for them to outsmart him by way of him messing up somehow or, by some streak of luck, figure out a way to be cleverer than him. Castle wasn't sure what method would win out, but with Tyson being close enough to leave his creepy "present" on Beckett's desk chair, he knew they had to try.
"He was close," Kate corrected him. "At some point between midnight and two-forty a.m. when the cameras in the bullpen were off, he was close. That was twelve hours ago, though; he could be anywhere now."
"Yeah, I guess so." Castle's voice was even, mostly because his brain was working overtime. Kate's statement was correct, but he wasn't sure he believed it. His gut told him that Tyson had some sort of lair in the city. It made the most sense as it was the best vantage point from which to continually spy on them. They only needed to work out where it was. That was, of course, far easier said than done, but it was going to be his next challenge.
"Well, sadly, I have to get back to it. Paperwork awaits," she added with a wry smile.
"Wait. One second." Castle grabbed onto her arm before she could walk away from him. She gazed at him, curious. "I don't…I don't know how you're going to feel about this, but I think you should move into the loft."
"Temporarily?" she asked.
His response was an immediate, "No." He watched her expression freeze and moved his hand so it cradled hers. He'd been practicing what he was about to say to her on his way back with the coffees. He was initially going to pitch the idea as solely for her safety. Even knowing that Tyson had taken them both from the loft, it still made sense that they were safer when they were together; at least that gave them a fighting chance versus having the progressively-more-pregnant Kate on her own. But as he thought about it, he realized that safety was just the reason foremost in his mind at that moment because of Tyson's "present." In reality, he'd known for quite some time that Kate was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with and the next stage in their relationship—living together—was merely a formality.
"I know its soon—and we never talked about the future of our relationship in this way, but I'd really like you to move in with me. We spend most nights together anyway. And…and if we find out this baby is mine and we choose to keep it, you'd be moving in anyway, right?"
She shook her head ever so slightly. "Yes, but that would still be months away."
"I understand that. I just want to keep you safe, Kate," he said while smiling kindly at her.
Kate slid her hand away from his and Castle immediately cursed internally. He'd pushed to hard, too fast. Maybe she would have been okay with it the following day with Tyson not so fresh in her mind, but whatever the case, he knew immediately she wasn't going to agree.
Instead of outright saying no, though, she rationalized. "He's not going to hurt me while I'm still pregnant, Castle. He wouldn't have done everything he did if the baby didn't play into his end game in some way, so he won't hurt me now."
"I see your point, but…well, just know that the offer is there," he said, though it pained him. On a surface level, he did agree with her in the sense that Tyson had plans for the baby so, no, he was not going to physically harm her any time soon. Psychologically, however…well, that was a different story.
"I promise to think about it. But I really do have to go back to my paperwork. I'll see you for dinner later?"
"Sure, Kate; of course," he said. Then, he watched her walk out of the breakroom. He observed her at her desk for several moments before walking determinedly towards the elevator; he had a serial killer to hunt.
