"Hi, Dad." Alexis splits a smile across her face as she moves her textbook off her legs and presses her phone to her ear.
"Hi, pumpkin." Rick says over the line, taking a casual button up shirt out of his bag that sits on the table. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Waiting for Gram to come home so we can decide where to order from."
"Don't you guys cook?" Rick asks, throwing the flannel button up over his black t-shirt.
"Not so much since you left." Alexis forlorns. "I don't know if it's because neither of us knows how or because we just don't feel like it without you here."
"Well, when I come back, I promise I'll make you all your favorites. Okay? I picked up some cool knife techniques while I was in Japan I want to show you."
Alexis' heart flutters with a small twinge of excitement but is tempered quickly by mere hope. "Does that mean you're coming home soon?"
Rick sighs as small as he can, so she doesn't hear it over the receiver, while he picks up the book the stranger gave to him in Rome last week. "Soon, sweetie. I promise."
"Dad," she says, her selflessness overcoming her desire to see her dad again. And on the other end of the line, her father waits with a heavy heart. "I don't want you to come home until you're ready."
"Alexis," Rick sighs heavily.
"Dad," she stops him, "if you really felt the way you say you did about Beckett and you're still determined to move on, then... then I don't want you coming home until your ready." Alexis practically demands. "Okay? Don't rush home for my sake."
Rick's heart cracks and he feels his throat clog as he juggles the book in one hand before turning and sitting down on his bed. "Alexis, it was never really about moving on."
Alexis's heart shrinks, because that's the answer she was afraid of.
"I left to give her a chance at a normal life without me. And I can't be around her anymore and not be with her. If I was a strong enough person, I would just... tell her how I feel and let her reject me, but..." he minces words, knowing he already did and was granted a lucky break by the powers at be, "I'm not."
The teen's heartaches, wanting her dad to just be better, back to his old self. "You know, you used to give yourself more credit, Dad." Rick laughs halfheartedly and looks down to the book, his bookmark sticking up a quarter of the way through. "Beckett would be lucky to have you."
He smiles his first real smile that he's gotten in what feels like a lifetime. Because he used to believe that, right up until the moment that bullet shot through her. "You're just saying that because you want me to come home." He says emotionally.
"Yeah," Alexis is quick to admit. They each share a small chuckle to each other before Alexis is continuing the conversation. "So, where are you now?"
"I'm in Ireland, on the coast."
"Where on the coast?"
"I'm in a town called Doolin, renting a room above a small pub."
"Is it pretty?" Alexis asks, looking up the town on her laptop.
"Very," Rick says, looking out the small window of his room on one side of the bed. "I spent most of the day down at the coast just taking it all in. I'm actually thinking about staying here a while."
"Really?" Alexis asks on a chuckle. "You've been calling me every other day or so and you've been in a different country every time. What's so special about this place?"
Rick stands with the book in his hand, looking out onto the quaint streets of Doolin, seeing the coast in the distance. "I don't know. I just feel something telling me to stay."
Alexis takes it as a good sign. Maybe if he's staying in one place, he'll actually take some time and mend his heart instead of looking for places to go to next. "I love you, Daddy."
Rick smiles warmly, "I love you too, Sweetie."
Alexis hangs up with a heavy heart, keeping the phone in her hand for a moment before sitting it down to the couch beside her. She misses her dad, but she feels that telling him to come home before he's ready would bring back a person that isn't her dad. It's clear he doesn't want to work at the precinct anymore since he's not vying for Beckett's heart anymore. She wants him back the way he was before.
Alexis shakes her head, ridding herself of this train of thought before she gets lost and grabs the end of her textbook to get back to work, but is stopped by a knock on the door. With a sigh, she gets up off the couch and goes to the door. When she pulls it open, she is taken aback by the sight of an older man in a tan trench coat, white slicked back hair, his eyes narrowed slightly when he sees a teenage girl answered the door.
"Can I help you?" Alexis asks after a moment of pause.
The man is silent for a moment before his eyes go from Alexis to the loft, searching the home behind her. "I'm looking for a Richard Castle, I was told he lives here."
Her spine hardens and her stomach knots slightly in fear. She grabs the doorknob and pulls the door into her side, hiding half of her body behind it ready to slam in the man's face. "He's my dad, but he's out of town."
"I've been trying to call him the past several days, but I haven't gotten through."
"Yeah, he's just..." she chooses her words carefully, not caring if the man knows she's lying or not, "really busy, is all."
"Is there any way I could get in touch with him? It's very important."
Alexis shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I haven't heard from him."
The man in the hallway looks down to the floor and nods to himself. "Okay then."
The man is mysterious, brooding. But her dad's writing career doesn't bring men like that around. There's only one line of work he's in that brings men like that around. "Is this about Detective Beckett?" She calls after the man as he passes the neighbors door.
The man stops and turns back around, his hands still tucked into the pockets of his trench coat, and she can tell that he's thinking of a response. "It's just... very important that I speak with your father."
Alexis breathes a hard breath that does nothing to squelch the anxiousness knotting her stomach. "I can give you a number."
Kate's eyes peel open to the dim flicker of the TV in front of her. The takes a long breath in and sees the TV has been muted and the closed captions are rolling at the bottom of the screen, with the TV still turned to the classical movies station. With a moan at her aching back, she pulls the light afghan off of her body and grabs her phone sitting on the table next to the couch.
She thought he'd leave a text. 'Had to run back to the hospital to cover a shift. Leftovers are in the fridge'.
The nods to herself and decides not to respond and locks her phone, grabbing the TV remote when she sets her phone back down and turns the TV off. She stands up quickly, glad she's almost fully recovered. She wasn't due back at the precinct for another three weeks, but she's going a bit stir crazy. And Josh wasn't any help. They spent most of his visit bickering over why she likes Forbidden Planet that was playing on TV. He thought it was corny and stupid, but she had to push back on him. At least she shut him up when she mentioned that at least Castle had an open mind about it when she took him to see it the first time.
At least Castle enjoyed watching the movie.
She smiles at the memory of her taking Castle to see it the first time as she searches for Sherlock in the folds of the afghan on the couch. But her brow pinches with a twinge of worry when she doesn't find him. She had him tucked into her side between her leg and the arm of the couch when she was watching the movie, she remembers clearly. She didn't want to have him between her and Josh, just in case Josh decided to press Sherlock's button and give Josh another reason to start a fight with her.
But as Castle told her, you say you're going to water them, you never do, flowers wilt and die, and she had to throw the ones that Josh gave her away.
On a hard breath, she turns and moves into the kitchen, where the early morning dew is casting a fog through the woods and the sun is just peaking over the trees. Her eyes search the kitchen with a haste, but doesn't find him, then she goes to the deck and searches the chairs outside from her place leaning out the sliding glass door, but still doesn't find him.
"What the hell..." she mutters to herself as she pulls the door shut and goes back to search the couch again.
But she misses a step mid-stride when she finds him propped up on a chair in the back corner, behind the table in the kitchen. Josh must've found it on the couch when he put the blanket over her. It's probably somewhat her fault for not letting him know how much this thing means to her. When she reaches over the table and grabs his arm, she decides to shake away the thoughts of just why this bear means this much to her by dealing with the slight pull in her scars without her medication.
"I'm surprised I didn't find you in the trash." She chuckles to the bear hanging from her hand as she goes back to the living room.
Once she's in the hallway, a knock on the door startles her.
Someone at the door this early... when no one else is supposed to know she's up here.
Her heart hardens and looks to the closet by the front door. She strides over to the entertainment center and puts Sherlock down, propped up against the TV facing the front door and goes for the door just as another Beethoven's fifth knock sounds through the house. "Who is it?" She hollers.
"Detective Beckett, I need to speak with you."
She doesn't recognize the voice, nor the face when she looks through the peephole. This is it. A part of her has been waiting for them to come. She reaches over and pulls open the closet door at the same time she's unlocking the deadbolt and pulling the door open, the screen door still separating them. The man is in a long tan trench coat, his hands tucked into the pockets, his white hair slicked back and his face aged.
"Who are you?" Her voice warns him.
The man is slow to start, his eyes narrowed as he peers at her through the screen. "I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery's."
Her heart squeezes at the mention of her former captain. It's a world she left behind to recover. Another world looming at her from the darkness of her memories, just waiting for the day when she thinks she's strong enough to deal with them.
"And there's a matter I need to speak to you about." He continues after seeing she's not going to respond. "May I come in?"
Shoring up her armor, she gives him a small nod and clicks the handle on the screen door and pushes it open, letting him in and steps off to the side. The man steps inside the cabin and hears the door close behind him. He takes a few steps inside before he hears the unmistakable sound of the forend of a shotgun being pumped behind him.
Kate holds her dad's shotgun to the man's back, eyes boring into him stoically. A moment after the man freezes, he slowly pulls his hands out of his pockets. "I assure you, Detective Beckett." The man says as he slowly turns around with his hands up in the air. "You won't be needing that."
"Like hell I won't be." She tells him in a low, harsh voice, pointing the barrel straight at the man's face. "I've been waiting for you people to come after me for two months now, and now I'm going to send what's left of you back to whoever sent you."
"Detective Beckett, I'm the reason they haven't come after you yet." The man says calmly and starts to put his hands down.
But Kate shoves the shotgun forward. "Keep your hands up!"
The man jumps slightly and puts his hands back up.
"Now what the hell are you talking about?"
"As I said before... I'm a friend of Roy's. Before his death, Roy sent me a package." Kate's mind is clouded, not wanting to think about the other secrets her mentor held from her. She always held him up to be the perfect example of what a cop is supposed to be, unable to do wrong. Having this man here, if what he says is true, is just a reminder that her entire career might as well have been based on a lie. "The package had information that Roy had gathered on the person behind everything."
"If you don't start explaining why you're here in the next five seconds-"
"Roy was using that information to protect you, Detective." The man says in a raised voice. "And he left me instructions to do the same."
"What..." she starts, the shotgun becoming heavy in her hands. "What do you mean? What instructions?"
"Roy left me instructions when he sent me the package, among those being that I keep the information in that package safe, and in turn, you. I've managed to cut a deal with the people behind everything. They leave you alone so long as the information stays buried."
"You have a file on the person who killed my mother?" She asks, her mind clouded and her heart feeling dark.
"That's correct, Detective."
"Then tell me who killed my mother." She warns, leaning the barrel forward.
But the man seems unwavering. "Detective Beckett, there is far more at stake here than just your mother's murder, more lives at stake here than just your's. This goes deeper than you could imagine."
"I can imagine quite a bit." She says through grinding teeth and burning eyes.
The man sighs a bit and looks away from her for a moment. "Detective, to be frank, you weren't even supposed to know this much."
"What the hell are you talking about?!" She demands more answers through her clenched jaw.
"Roy left me explicit instructions to only talk to your partner, Richard Castle."
At the mention of his name, the darkness filling her heart and clouding her mind vanishes and all she can think of his him. "Castle?" The man nods, and there's a fire inside her hotter than when he mentioned her mother. "What have you done with him?" She spits.
"I've been trying to contact him for over a week, but your partner seems to fled the country. No one seems to know where he is, so... I'm forced to come to you directly with the terms of the deal."
"Terms? What... what terms?"
"I have the information and it stays buried so long as they leave you alone. But they had a condition... being that you stop your investigation into your mother's murder. And that's where your partner was supposed to come in. So I'm telling you instead, Detective."
The cloudiness in her mind is starting to return as her finger wants to move from above the trigger well to rest onto the trigger itself. "You want me to just walk away from the people that killed my mother? That killed Montgomery and almost killed me?" The man stares her down with his hands still meagerly in the air. "You want me to just walk away from the most important thing in my life? You want me to just let them walk free after everything they've done?"
"Detective Beckett, your captain, my friend," the man nods at her, "gave his life to get me this information so he could protect you. Is this how you want to remember him?"
"Don't try emotional blackmail on me right now, okay?" She hisses with burning eyes. "I'm really not in the mood."
"Detective Beckett, you have a simple choice here. If you keep investigating, the deal is broken and I can't protect you anymore. So it's the case or your life."
"That case is my life!"
Her answer comes with a brute force of unintended honesty that calls everything inside of her into question. For a moment, she's pulled out of herself as her eyes drift away from the man in front of her. That case, that investigation is her entire life. And after a moment of her cold, watery eyes floating aimlessly around the floor, they end up on Sherlock, who's still propped up against the TV in the living room, looking over at her. She can hear his voice in her ears now, feel his gaze on her, telling her something that only he could.
So what happens when you close it?
If her entire life, even her relationship, is built around her being able to investigate that case, how much more of her life, of her years, is she going to put into it before she closes it? If she builds her life around that case, goes back to work just to investigate that case, stays in relationships just to invest more of herself into that case, what happens if the day comes when she actually solves it?
This isn't about your mother's murder anymore. She hears in her heart and looks back up to Sherlock. This is about you needing a place to hide.
"Do we have a deal, Detective?"
The man's gruff voice breaks her out of her whirlwind of thoughts and she realizes that she let the shotgun fall till it's pointed at the floor. "Leave." She says in a small voice, letting the shotgun fall into one hand, holding it by the grip.
"I need an answer."
"Yes, just... just go."
Without another word, the man steps around her as she slowly drags her feet into the living room, hearing the front door close behind her. In a trance, her eyes staring at the bear propped up against the TV, she sets the shotgun down onto the coffee table with a dangerous clatter of the wooden stock and the metal barrel, and grabs the bear in her hands.
She's spent so long on that case, invested so much of herself into something just so she could close it. She's sacrificed her own relationships, her own happiness, just for... for what? The case? Maybe he was more right that she wants to admit. Maybe she's made this case so much a defining part of her that she's scared to find out who she is without it. How much time is she willing to sink into this case? How many more years will she expect the people around her to wait until it's closed with the excuse that only then can she be happy?
Her ragged breath is dragged out of her as she falls down to the coffee table with Sherlock held carefully in her hands.
She isn't ready to admit this to anyone but this stupid bear, but she catered her life around that case. Only in a relationship like she has with Josh can she devote herself to the case... or her job. With Josh, she can focus on her career and her case. She can spend the day focused on the case moving up the ranks.
And when you come home? The bear seems to ask her. There are sixteen more hours in the day, Kate.
She sighs emotionally and looks to the ceiling, letting the bear fall to her lap. Her heart is trying to tell her something. But she knows that listening to that part of herself isn't a skill she's honed. She hasn't listened to that part of herself since she was nineteen. Right now, she has to figure out something that she thought she had figured out already. She thought she had it lined up, what she wanted her life to be. But maybe Castle was right. Maybe it was all just a veil pulled over her eyes to keep her from admitting that she has no clue who she really is without that case... or without her job.
She's due back in the precinct in a few weeks. She could manage going back sooner.
She could chalk it all up to her just going stir crazy, the thought that she just needs to get back into the swing of things and everything will work itself out. But until then, she'll keep asking herself.
Her eyes return to the bear still in her hands, "What do I want my life to be?"
Hoping for something different, Castle's voice answers her. "How do I... wait, like, now? Check one, is it... hello?"
A/N: A lot longer of a chapter than I thought it would be. Let me know what you think. Next few chapters will be good ones. ;)