Author note: Trigger warning: This chapter contains a brief mention of suicide.

The bar smells of stale beer and peanuts but it's far better than the sweat and fear that underlay his workplace. Detective Esposito glances towards the table reserved for the 12th precinct but it's empty. He heads to the far end where he can watch who enters the bar after him. Meanwhile he contemplates the chalkboard. The best thing Castle did when he bought the Old Haunt (besides putting him and Ryan on the no-pay list) is having daily specials made from scratch. Today it's lobster mac & cheese or beef pot roast. Of course there is always a choice of soup, sandwich or salad, but the specials are sold out anytime they get here after work and this may be his only chance to eat.

Brian promises to bring the coffee and food to the table. He nods towards a table tucked in a dark corner. Castle is typing furiously at his laptop, and he even has a small printer plugged in at the table. There is a duffle bag at his feet and a messenger bag slung over that back of an empty chair.

Espo will just have to scare off whatever groupie is hanging out with writer boy. They've got a lot of ground to cover.

Castle doesn't look up; he just keeps typing. "Sit where the bag is. Cover it with your jacket."

Espo bristles at being told what to do, but he takes the seat and crosses his arms. "Who's bag? You asked your latest fling to slink off while we talk?"

"I won't dignify that with a response." He keeps his head down and fingers flying across the keys.

Esposito tries a different approach, "Too much partying got you behind on your book, playboy?"

"I had to revise the manuscript, but it's all done. I'm actually waiting on my editor."

"Good for you, writer boy. Does that mean you've had your ex-wife too busy to do her job?"

Castle stops, rubs his wrists, and he takes a moment to tap down his own anger. "Writer boy, playboy, now I'm your whipping boy? Spit it out, Detective Esposito."

"I heard female voices - not Mrs. R or Alexis over the phone. You moved on pretty quick. Like Beckett isn't worth it anymore."

"You think I moved on? Of course you see it that way." Castle shrugs, "I remember working along side you and Ryan until the new captain kicked me out, but discount anything that paints me in a good light."

"But you never even tried to come back to the precinct. And you gave up on Beckett!"

"You think I gave up? She had me kicked to the curb before she was shot, her boyfriend wanted to kick my ass in the waiting room, and when I did see Beckett in the hospital, she asked me not to come back until she called - which she never did, so it felt like a kick in the gut. I'm everybody's favorite punching bag but I'm not the one who moved on. I am moving stuff on - the voices you heard - were employees of an auction house." He presses a key and the printer comes to life, slowly revealing a page of words. Castle starts a new document.

"Dude, they are trying to kill Beckett and you just sit there typing like this is good inspiration? Man, that's cold."

He stops, rubs his hands and wrists together again like he really is cold, then finally looks Esposito in the eyes. It doesn't take a detective to see they're blood shot and dark circles frame the dull blue irises. "Cold? No Javi, I'm numb. That is an improvement over being devastated. So screw the judgement and stop using me as your whipping boy - she moved on. I got stuck watching the woman I loved get shot."

Castle pauses, struggles with the message because cops don't do emotion, but he still gestures towards the other man. "Yeah, I know she's like a sister to you and you've known her longer, but I am her partner. Or I was. Did you know one of the last times I spoke to Roy was him telling me my time at the 12th was over? Beckett went to him and he backed her. The last conversation I had with a man who sat at my poker table ended with "'Sorry this door closed and no amount of knocking will make me open it back up. Good luck with Nikki but this is Goodbye, Rick.'"

He stare off into space, getting lost in his head which happens a lot lately. "Despite all that I came running when he called. I let him use her as bait and carried her off like a neanderthal. Then I restrained her while they gunned Roy down. No wonder she hates me."

Rick shakes his head. "My punishment was to watch her go down. I was too late to push her out of the way. Then I declared my love like some fool putting what I wanted to say ahead of everything else. I watched her awareness of the injury and I saw the tears escape when the pain got too great. Only after she closed her eyes and we lost our connection did I think to try to apply pressure to the wound and stop the bleeding. When Lanie pushed me out of the way I stared at my hands - I figuratively and literally had Beckett's blood on them. Then I got to watch her die on the way to the hospital. And I get to relive each and every detail in a stunning variety of scenarios every single damn time I close my eyes. If I seem distracted it's because I have to concentrate. The typing- the plotting - it's a half dozen different ways to try save her life since she'll balk at hiding some place safe."

Castle waves the other man's response off. "Just tell me how Demming came to discover whatever the plot is against Beckett and be the latest knight in shining armor." Castle tries to discount the role the current boyfriend played in saving her life. A man worthy of dating Beckett has to be heroic. Castle obviously didn't make the cut.

Javi softens his tone, "It was a robbery ring that worked all over the city. It was a case of one party saying their stuff was stolen and the other guy says he bought the goods but the other person was trying to change their mind and wanted their stuff back. The buyer even had a bill of sale with the signature on it, so no other cops investigated it further. Demming spent some time tracking the complaints from all over and realized the same half dozen guys were always the 'buyers'. So he follows them, and finds out the sales receipts and signatures are all from a forger working with the burglary ring. Demming brings in the paper pusher thinking he's the easiest one to break and offers a deal so the rest of the guys can be caught in the act."

"It turns out this guy, Devon McWilliams, is eager to talk. He's got a rap sheet but it's all non violent stuff and he's scared stiff. He was paid a visit from a very bad dude who told him he needed a suicide note faked. McWimp says he got $1000 up front and that saying 'no' was not an option. He'll get $1000 more when the letter is complete. The bad guy left a file with writing samples and a draft of what they wanted the note to say. Only it doesn't take a genius to figure out the samples are police reports and a cop is going to be murdered."

"McForger wants a better deal and shows Demming the same screen shot he sent to the 'big scary dude' when the note was done. Of course Demming recognizes Beckett's handwriting and comes to me. We agree that we can't get the guy an immunity deal because we don't know who we can trust. We didn't tell the captain, so all Demming can do it get the guy out of the station real quick. Ryan is watching him now and we'll keep an eye on him until they come to pick up the note."

Castle has his eyes closed seeing everything play out in his mind. He plasters on a smile and when a server brings coffee and places a steaming dish of seafood smothered in gooey pasta in front of Javier. Before the detective digs in he fishes a paper out of his pocket and hands it to Castle.

I feel like Humpty Dumpty. I fell off my wall and I am trapped in a dark alley and fighting for my life. There are too many pieces missing. If there was another way out I would take it, but I am running on empty. I suspect I will never be who I was and that was an act. The trouble is, I am too tired to keep up the struggle. I am really good at hiding my insecurities. I have to be strong at my job but my personal life is empty. Please do not question why I did this. I want to flee and I cannot resist the pull - I want to be with my mother.

Kate Beckett

Castle's brain starts spiraling. He tells himself: It's not real. It's not real. He forces himself to ignore the meaning behind the words. He has to or he will crack. They haven't come for the note so there is time to undo their plot. The more Castle studies it the better he feels. "The printing is a perfect match. And this will play into our hands really well. This is good news!"

Espo chokes, "Bro, how can you say that? I can't wait to arrest the asshole who thinks he is going to get the drop on us because then I'm going to hurt McShit for writing this crap."

"I assume the plan is to arrest the person picking up the letter and flip them? Make them give up the person who hired them?"

The detective nods as he shovels another fork full of mac and cheese into his mouth. He never thought a foo-foo dish with lobster in it could taste so damn good.

"In theory that's great. Realistically, assuming the new assassin is equal to Hal Lockwood, he won't flip on whom ever hired him." He holds up his hand to stop the protest Esposito is about to make, "Hear me out. Your plan is solid police work but it doesn't take into account that we obviously have at least one dirty cop who copied police files working for the other side. You are also bound by legal methods of investigation and under the constraint of an iron gate that slammed shut Beckett's case."

"Instead consider this: We don't tip our hand at the precinct by arresting anyone. We increase the possibility of success by watching them while they watch us do nothing. We bait them with a problem that has to go all the way up to the guy pulling the strings. Then we know who the players are and we know where to look for things that will take them down."

"How are we going to do all that? This isn't a book where you can make everything turn out the way you want."

"No Javi, you don't have to tell me the dire consequences if I screw things up again. But I am good at potting things with twists and red herrings, so I have to think about the end game and have various ways to get there. I've got a plan. Several actually. Beckett's suicide note plays into our plan because the forger can be the one to tell them that despite the printing being a perfect match, it won't stand up to forensic linguistics."

"Linguistics? You think McPen should tell them Beckett would write it in Russian or something?"

"Forensic linguistics is the study of the written words that someone uses. It is how the writer of Harry Potter was also shown to be the same person as author Robert Galbraith. In our case it is simple enough for a layman to see - Detective Beckett only prints in police reports. Kate writes in cursive. She doesn't use any contractions in the reports - 'I will' instead of 'I'll' or 'cannot' instead of 'can't' - I asked her about it one time and she said it sounds better if she has to testify in court and read a report to the jury."

A little life is coming back into Castle's body language. "Here, is a photo of a thank you note Kate wrote and posted online to the Nikki Heat fans that gave blood at their local hospitals." He pulls up the site (it's book marked because he reads after nightmares to bring him some comfort - proof that she is still alive.) He hands the phone over.

"And there is another hand written letter posted at the NYPD widows & orphans charity for financial donations made in her honor. Heck, there is even one in the lobby of the 12th precinct thanking all the cops and citizens that stopped by the station just to say she was in their prayers. All of them are written in cursive. All of them use contractions. And a forger would also notice that the police reports use a thick blue ink and her personal notes are from a finer point gel ink."

"Oh! The pen. We can use the pen!" Now the 9 year old on a sugar rush is back on display. "I gave her a set of monogrammed pens last year. They have a GPS tracker in them. It was a joke after she complained someone was always stealing pens from her desk. I gave her two of them - one for her purse and one for the precinct. Then she could track down her pen at work, and if her purse was ever stolen she could get it right back. She accused me of being a stalker and we had a good laugh. One of the pens was still in her desk after she was in the hospital. She admitted she liked the way they wrote - the ink is a gel formula that looks like a soft black but is really a deep purple." He trails off remember better times and when he had dreams of the future instead of nightly terrors.

Esposito stops eating. "That forensic writing thing could work. It doesn't put McFaker in danger and it's something that a shooter will want to run by his handler. I don't know how we'd get our rat to take the pen, but Ryan might have an idea."

"I need to type up notes on forensic linguistics for Demming and his perp. I'll call it Operation Push Back - making the bad guys crawl out from under their rocks. "

Espo tries to soften his verdict, "Dude, this cloak and dagger stuff - kinda impossible for the three of us to do much without being seen. And the amount of surveillance needed... . I don't think this plan is gonna work."

"Derrick Storm made me a lot of money and taught me a lot about clandestine operations. I might have a few ideas." He raises his hand to stop Javier's protests, "And I know you want to grill me on details, but you can't be compelled to tell what you don't know. I want to keep a little bit of distance between my shenanigans and the other side of this nightmare." He takes a deep breath.

"Think about the end game, Javi. One way or another this is going to stop. Maybe not as quick as I'd like, but the dragon will be slain - either figuratively or literally. If he is as powerful as we think, there will be a hell of a big investigation. What we do now can help or hurt on judgement day, so don't ask questions you don't want to testify about under oath."

"Shit, Castle, Derrick Storm is fictional." He pushes the lunch away, suddenly not hungry. How to start talking him down? The detective studies Castle. He's got a dark imagination and if anybody could get away with it... "About the dragon, um, you said 'slain',..." He tries to read the man he knows as writer boy but all he gets is a poker face. Esposito dips his head, thinks through what Beckett's partner is saying - and not saying. Then he stops thinking like a cop and flashes back to Beckett bleeding out. He does a gut check, looks back up at the man sitting across the table. It all comes down to...

"You're right. I don't want to know. Just don't go doing something stupid."

"Your faith in me is touching." He ignores the sting and motions to the messenger bag. "Inside are three burner phones. I got them a few years ago when I was still writing Derrick Storm novels. They were all bought with cash when I was on tour in different cities. I got them for Martha, Alexis and me. One goes to Beckett, obviously you need one, and she needs someone she loves to have the last one so her father or Dr. Josh."

"Dude, she..."

"Don't say it. Don't placate me. Her actions have made her feelings very clear. Regardless, I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. Let's focus on that. I'll have someone get me a burner and then I'll send you the number. There's still a lot to cover."

"Mr. McWilliams needs to stay on our side. I've got a tip line posted on my web site for information revealing the perpetrators of any crime against Detective Beckett. It generated a lot of interest since I backed it up with reward money and this lead certainly qualifies. Pay him a thousand but have him sign a receipt for me. There's a the duffle bag under the table. Grab a bundle to cover it and anything else you guys need."

Javi zips open the bag on the floor and swears. "What the hell is all this cash for? I said I didn't want to know but please tell me you're not going to meet one of your mob guys who will do you a favor. You can't live with that." He takes a bundle of $5,000 out of the bag but stops to search Castle's face.

"You'd be surprised what I'd do to keep my loved ones safe, but even though I know 'a guy,' that option is not my first choice. It would demean Johanna Beckett's memory to have it resolved in such a manner."

Brian interrupts with a coffee pot. "Refills?" He fills the detective's cup and casually inquires, "Boss, you haven't ordered lunch yet." He pretends to grumble, "You never eat here anymore. Can't I bring you something?"

Castle plasters on a smile but waves off the concern. "I know you guys are doing a great job with the food service. I don't need to check up on it."

Espo waits until the barkeeper walks away and zips up the bag of money. "Isn't pulling this kind of cash out is suspicions if they're monitoring accounts or watching you?"

"I need cash so I don't leave a trail for miscellaneous expenses like renting costumes or vehicles. I will wire money from an overseas account for the security personnel and other large expenses. I am smart enough not to tip off anyone if they are monitoring my financials. Fortunately my accountant was on hand this morning. She has me on a tight leash with cash because it complicates tax returns. I told her to get $50,000 pulled out from certain special accounts and book me a room at the Alexandria, Virginia, Marriot. There will probably be rumors that I ran off to be with a bimbo. It's a good cover story and I have to make this trip as soon as possible."

"Must be nice to be rich and have an account who fetches cash and acts as a travel agent."

"Tayrisha - my accountant- isn't a CPA; she is a licensed social worker. She manages a staff of autistic and OCD employees who are very good with numbers and very bad with people. Tayrisha says I'm like an Attention Deficit Disorder kid so she would rather deal with me personally than let my finances get all messed up." Castle hits print and puts the latest information in an envelop. "Here is the information for Demming about forensic linguistics."

"Beckett is going to go nuts when she hears about all of this."

"I'm not going to tell her. Actually, I'm going to respect her wishes and stay away."

"Um, that's a problem. We need you to go find her."

Castle knows the lights have been off her in place. "What do you mean? Isn't she at her dad's cabin? They don't have her already do they?" Castle starts to panic.

"No, they don't have her, but we don't know where she is. She's not at the cabin. She's not at her place. We need you to find out where she is."

"How am I supposed to do that? Just trace her phone."

"Gates is cracking down on stuff like using police resources to trace personal phones. We need you to go ask Jim Beckett."

"No! There has to be another way. I can't face him. Not after I failed him again. He came to me - to my home- and asked me to make Kate walk away." He forces his gaze from the abyss back to Javier. "Didn't know that part, did you? I failed both Becketts. Send Demming. He's the hero of the moment."

"Castle, man up."