AN: So, if you follow me on Twitter, you most likely know that my life's been a bit crazy these past couple of months, hence the lack of updates. Anyway, here the next chapter! Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews for this story. I really appreciate them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.

Chapter 12

Johanna sits on the couch, hands clasped together, her husband next to her, stuck in the same position. Tension is palpable in the air and the fact that neither of them has slept a wink doesn't help matters.

"The team is moving as fast as it can," the officer, O'Malley, attempts to reassure them. The poor soul had volunteered to stay behind and watch over the house. However, not much has happened since Johanna played the tape hours ago.

"We know," Jim mutters, shaking his head. "But what if-"

The sound of the doorbell cuts off his musings, and all three occupants of the room exchange glances. Who would be at their door at almost five in the morning?

Jim volunteers to answer the door, Officer O'Malley on his heels as he walks to the entranceway.

Johanna sighs, running a hand through her hair as the creaking of the door reaches her ears. She expects some type of greeting from whomever is on the other side, but she's only met with silence. However, her husband's next words send her pulse skyrocketing.

"Oh my god," she hears. "Oh my god."

Johanna whirls around to face the entrance, frowning, her husband and Officer O'Malley blocking her view of whoever it is that's before them.

"Hey, Dad," a familiar voice greets with a nervous chuckle. At this point, Johanna's on her feet, resisting the temptation to push the officer aside and embrace her daughter.

"Katie," Jim breathes and Johanna sees him hug their daughter, Katie returning the gesture.

"Katie!" Johanna exclaims, some of the shock wearing off as she joins in the reunion.

"Hey, Mom," her daughter says as she holds both her parents close. "Miss me?" she jokes, stepping back, her smile nervous as she removes the hat, letting her hair loose onto her shoulders.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Johanna murmurs, examining her daughter. Besides the cut on her face, which appears to have been treated, Katie looks okay. Thank goodness. Her daughter is home, safe and sound.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Jim frets as Kate shakes her head.

"I'm okay, I ate breakfast before I came here."

Officer O'Malley clears her throat. "As much as I don't want to interrupt this reunion, would it be all right if I asked you a few questions, Kate?"

Jim and Johanna begin to protest, not want to overwhelm their daughter, but Kate waves them off.

"It's fine," she says, taking off her coat to deposit it on a nearby hanger. "I'll try to answer what I can."

"Is that your jacket?" O'Malley questions.

"Uh, no, someone gave it to me. Why?"

"May I see it?" the officer asks.

"Sure." Kate hands the woman the jacket, who begins to feel it, rubbing the material with her fingers.

"Where did you get this?" O'Malley inquires as Kate plops herself onto the couch.

"Erm, someone gave it to me." The brunette furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "Why? What's wrong?'

The uniform shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong, really. It's just that this jacket is made of the same material as a Kevlar vest; same weight too."

Johanna swears she notices understanding flash in her daughter's eyes, but it's gone before the older Beckett can process it.

"That's...strange," Kate mutters. Pursing her lips, the young woman sighs. "What do you want to know?"

The officer flips open her notebook, pulling a pen out of her pocket.

"Just start from the beginning," the officer insists gently, giving the teen a reassuring smile.

With that, Katie begins her harrowing tale of the past seventy-two hours.

"Really, Ricky, a diner?" the blonde man grumps.

Rolling his eyes, Rick sips his orange juice. "Figured it would be the best place to meet up again. I'm pretty sure your place is out."

"Thanks for that," Mark grumbles, drinking his coffee. "Okay, I gotta ask, this job, was it the agency or was this freelance?"

"Freelance, technically," Rick mutters. His friend raises an eyebrow. "It was more of a 'You do this for me otherwise I kill you and/or those you care about' type of job." God, sometimes he wishes he hadn't opened the envelope when it arrived on his doorstep.

"Ah, I see," Mark hums. "So, how much does she know?"

"Some, not a lot, really. Not much about the agency that's for sure."

"You still said something though. You must have it bad." The man shakes his head. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The other man shrugs. "I didn't want to lie to her, that's all." And he also just couldn't keep the truth from falling out his mouth when it came to her.

"Well, hopefully she doesn't screw you over, right?" Mark's eyes narrow. "Right?"

"She can say what she wants as far as I'm concerned. However, I don't think she'll say anything regarding me." Not that he cares at this point. Finishing off his drink, Rick stares at his mentor, his face twisting into a grimace. "So, I have a question."

"Something tells me I'm not going to like this question," Mark states dryly.

"How did you get out?" Rick questions.

"Oh no, not this again!" his companion grumps. "We did this song and dance two years ago when I still with the agency."

"Please, I want to know." Rick's voice borders on pleading.

"I paid my dues, that's how. But come on, Ricky, you asked me this before and decided to stay anyway."

"Because I had to." He knows it's a weak explanation, but it's the truth. "Now, I have no reason to stay."

"Did your mom..."

Rick shakes his head. "No, she's...okay, as okay as one can be in her condition. However, this job gave me the payments needed for the rest of her treatment." And some extra for himself and other hospital bills.

"Why do you want to leave? You think leaving the agency will make that chick want you and stay with you?"

Gritting his teeth, Rick sighs. Mark always had a tendency to be narrow minded.

"No, I just don't want to do this anymore. I stayed because of Mother, but now that reason is disappearing. I mean, you obviously had enough." Rick raises an eyebrow, daring his mentor to challenge him.

"It was getting boring, that's all. Plus, I have more money than I know what to do with." Mark shrugs indifferently. Well, that certainly sounded like the man Rick knew. "Look, if you really want to leave, just do whatever the hell the agency tells you to do. No ifs, ands, or buts. Otherwise, you can forget ever getting free of it."

The younger man groans, pursing his lips. He was afraid his friend would say that. There has to be another way...

"So, what's your next move?"

Rick shrugs. "Go into hiding for a bit until the guy is arrested. But first, I need to see my mother, make sure she's fine."

Mark nods, glancing up from their conversation to stare at the television hanging above the counter. "Look at that poor sap. One minute he was all high and mighty, the next he's being dragged out his house in cuffs." Shaking his head in dismay, the older man finishes off his coffee. "I swear, some guys can be so careless."

Turning around, Rick observes the scene on screen, jaw dropping as he witnesses a familiar figure being pushed into a police car. "No way..." But it's there, or more precisely, he's there. The one and only Senator Bracken riding in the back of a police cruiser, facing a litany of charges.

"You know him? Didn't think you had connections that high up," his companion teases.

Turning to face his friend, Rick's voice lowers, "That's my boss, the guy who hired me."

"What? That was fast," the blonde comments. Eyeing the brunette, he notes, "You're going to be next."

"Maybe, maybe not." As far as Rick's concerned, he's in the wind. There really isn't any trace of him, besides whatever Kate might say, which will be little to nothing, he hopes. "But, at least the whole ordeal is finally over."

"What about his lackeys?"

A smile spreads across the younger man's face. "They'll follow suit soon enough, I'm sure." Relief fills him as he realizes he's no longer the fall guy. He'd figured it out at one point, that if Kate was found, everything would be pinned on him, regardless of what he or Kate testified to the police.

"You are one lucky guy, Ricky," Mark replies. Getting up from the booth, the older man pats him on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm outta here. Don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"Yeah," Rick answers as his friend walks to the door. "See you around." Mark gives a little wave of acknowledgment before exiting the diner. Rick waves the waitress over for the check before returning his gaze to the empty glass in his hands.

He quietly scoffs to himself. Lucky guy? Yeah, if one could call someone who's on the run, has been forced stay away from the young woman he's fallen in love with, and has a sick parent that, sure. Oh, and he might be stuck in an organization he wants to disassociate with as fast as humanely possible.

"Yeah, I'm a real lucky guy," he mutters as he leaves money on the table and walks out the door.

Time to go visit Mother.