Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional, uncompensated, or are in the public domain.
oo0oo
October 30
Castle tiptoed forward through the warehouse, flashing back to the last time he did the same in an effort to find Lockwood. After a short but intense argument, Gates acquiesced to Castle's plan to distract Cole to protect the detectives, leaving Gates in reserve.
Much to his shock, however, this time he wasn't unarmed. And it wasn't a taser in his hands any longer, but an actual gun. While he doubted it was Gates' issued service weapon, he was still incredulous that Gates had trusted him with an actual weapon. It's probably loaded with blanks, he thought as he inched forward.
"I should give you credit for luring me here, Writer Boy," Cole called out to him, easing at least a little stress that Cole wasn't lying in wait to ambush him. "I thought I'd get a leg up on finding Alexis and Martha and you nearly nabbed me. But your teammates here are going to help give me a head-start on the hunt. I only need one of them for that, so I'd suggest you stop creeping around in the dark and come out if you'd like them both to remain unperforated."
With a sigh, Castle rounded the shelving behind which he'd sheltered when Cole started speaking to find a grim scene. Cole had indeed managed to overcome the extra locks and draw Beckett and Espo inside. Espo was down, out cold and sprawled on the ground with an obvious head wound where it looked like he was struck, rather than shot, thankfully.
But while Beckett remained conscious, she looked worse off. Curled into a fetal position on the floor with her hands cuffed behind her back, Castle could see her trembling. Worse, he couldn't tell if the tremors were from the hand that a crouched Cole held to the back of her neck or a panic attack triggered by being in another vulnerable position so shortly after her return to the precinct.
Cole remained crouched beside Beckett and used the gun in his off hand to gesture at Castle. "So, Katie-Bug here thinks you confided in Gates to get me here. She's not too happy about that. And I'm not sure I should believe darling Vicky actually let you carry a gun! But whether it was Gates or not, you need to drop the piece unless you want me to scramble your partner's head even more than it was to start with."
Castle saw little choice and slowly raised his hands in capitulation. In response, Cole extracted Beckett's cuffs from her belt and slid them across the concrete floor to Castle's feet. "Put the gun down and cuff yourself. Lord knows you've wanted to be in her cuffs for years."
After promising himself that he's ever in his partner's cuffs again it would be in very different circumstances, Castle gently crouched to follow Cole's instructions. Knowing that a delay could only help his situation, Castle scrabbled for a topic that would allow him to stall. If only Gates can take advantage of the situation.
"It was my turn, right?" Castle asked as he knelt on the ground and fumbled to cinch the cuffs around his wrists."
"Behind your back, Writer Boy," Cole admonished. "And your turn for what?"
"Our game of twenty questions. You got to leave midway through."
"You just don't quit, do you?" laughed Cole. "Your colleagues had that right. Fine, one last question to draw this game to a close. But don't think you're slowing me down."
Well, it was worth a shot. "Why this kind of challenge? With a gift like yours the possibilities are endless. So, why…"
"Gift?!" Cole snarled in response, the first time Castle could remember him looking anything other than smug. "This isn't a gift, it's a curse. It's a… virus. It sneaks in, lives off the host, and corrupts. No, Writer Boy, this is no gift. And I'm tired of living with it."
oo0oo
As Castle had hoped, Gates had indeed used Castle's situation to maneuver into position. Frankly, this was exactly the situation she'd hoped to create when capitulating to Mr. Castle's plan to split up. And for as much as she questioned this whole ploy to lure Cole to the warehouse, she'd already decided to bring this situation to a permanent end. Her career could withstand a challenge for as long as she has, and that was on the off chance that someone took her to task for responding with lethal force when two of her detectives were being held hostage, and all that after calling for backup.
So, Captain Gates resolutely raised her weapon and sighted on Cole. Her preparations were halted, however, by the feeling of the barrel of a handgun against the side of her neck.
As she slowly raised her hands, Gates felt someone wrap up her right arm and relieve her of her sidearm. She was then spun slowly in place, which brought the grim visage of Agent Kathryn Jeffers into view.
Jeffers shook her head to silently admonish the captain for her cavalier attitude towards her asset's life and raised a single finger to place in front of her lips to call for silence.
Gates furrowed her brow, wondering how many other people had crashed what was supposed to be an isolated trap to limit potential collateral damage. She turned from Jeffers to look at the person who took her weapon. As expected, it was Agent Hansen, the soft-spoken companion Jeffers had brought to the precinct. What was not expected was the odd device he held in his hand.
Gates barely recognized the device before Hansen's arm swung forward, tossing the flash-bang grenade toward Cole, Castle, and her detectives.
She and Castle had considered and discarded the possible use of a flash-bang. Their safe use was already questionable in this situation. In a concrete warehouse, the shock wave and decibel level wouldn't be absorbed as they would in a residential or open-air setting. If it landed near her people, permanent hearing loss and blindness were real possibilities. And without knowing what was stored in the warehouse and what residue might persist, the risk of starting a fire was even greater than usual.
"No!" Gates shouted, but it was too late. The matte-black device arced through the air, clattered on the ground, and was lost to sight as Gates, Jeffers, and Hansen put their hands to their ears, lowered their heads, and closed their eyes.
Whether by fate or design, the cylindrical flash-bang took an odd bounce on the way toward Cole and his captives, sending it slightly off course where it ricocheted off the support strut for the warehouse's shelving system. This likely prevented direct permanent injury to those in the vicinity, but at terrible cost.
Gates lowered her arms as soon as she heard the explosion and felt the compression wave, startled by the flash of light even through her closed eyes. Blinking quickly, she tried to assess the scene and was immediately horrified. As feared, the flash-bang ignited something in the warehouse and the boxes on the nearby shelves was aflame. Worse, the climbing, crackling fire provided smoke and flickering light to show a disoriented Cole staggering aimlessly and firing erratically as he turned and stumbled.
As she noticed Castle lurching to his feet and moving towards her detectives, Gates started to move to assist before being knocked down by a flailing Hansen. Struggling to rise quickly, Gates was nearly defeated by the slick floor, Hansen's legs, and the percussive blasts of additional gunfire. Knowing that Hansen had her confiscated firearm, she turned toward him only to see his panicked face as he clasped at a neck wound that was bleeding profusely despite the pressure he was trying to apply. And behind him stood Jeffers, gun spitting fire as she had to finally resort to desperate measures to contain her asset.
After rising shakily to her feet, Gates started to round Hansen to provide assistance while trying to stay out of Jeffers' line-of-sight, all while trying to pinpoint Cole's location through the smoke and chaos. Just as she made out his silhouette, a spark behind him, from the fire or gunshots, triggered another concussive blast that sent Cole flying towards her before Gates, too, was blown from her feet. The last thing she saw was the teetering, flaming shelving as it twisted and began to fall toward her.
oo0oo
October 31
Captain Victoria Gates slowly blinked and realized she was staring at a white tiled ceiling. She didn't remember opening her eyes or even sleeping, nor did she recognize her location. As the fog slowly cleared, she became aware of a tinny ringing in her ears that gradually admitted the background beeps and chirps of a medical facility. With the kind of calm, dissociated recollection that was likely pharmaceutically induced, she realized that the ordeal of the warehouse must have concluded.
"Hi, boss, welcome back."
Turning her head, Gates was as surprised as her drug regimen allowed to see Detective Ryan sitting at her bedside, a sheaf of paperwork on his lap. He reached forward to offer a cup of water, then helped guide the straw to her mouth. It felt odd, being coddled like a child, especially by a subordinate. But she felt better as he helped her drink, as the cool liquid helped settle her mind and reduced, if only slightly, the ringing in her ears.
After returning the cup to the bedside table, Ryan turned and spoke quietly. "I know you have questions. Let me tell the nurses you're awake, then we can talk without being interrupted. For now, just know that Cole is gone and our group survived."
Ryan's terse summary provided just enough information for Gates to tolerate the subsequent medical check-up. After answering enough questions to prove her continued cognitive function to the nurse, she was warned about the potential lingering effects of the concussion she'd suffered and, to no one's surprise more than her own, agreed to stay another night in the hospital.
"So, what happened?" Gates finally asked after the last nurse left the room and Ryan reclaimed his chair beside her bed.
"Before leasing it to Castle, the warehouse owner made some money renting his facility to a series of commercial enterprises that might not've been totally legit. It's not clear if some of the boxes there were left behind intentionally to avoid disposing whatever was in them or if the warehouse owner is shifting the blame, but whatever chemicals were in there didn't react well to flames or gunfire. FDNY has half the block cordoned off as they try to figure out what happened and if the risk is contained. So, they're pissed, especially having to spend Hallowe'en in their gear," Ryan summarized with a dismissive shrug. Only then, following his comment, did Gates check the clock and the window to realize that it was already late at night.
"Espo, Beckett, and Castle are being treated for inhalation injuries. Beckett's still unconscious, probably from Cole putting the whammy on her. Castle took a grazing shot to the shoulder when he tried to physically cover Beckett. We're guessing Cole got him, but ballistics will figure out if it was Cole or friendly fire. And it looks like Javy missed the whole thing after getting thumped on the head as they entered the warehouse. But in addition to the head injury, he suffered some first- and second-degree burns on his legs from when the shelving toppled."
"Your partner does not have a good track record there," Gates rasped out. "I suggest he avoid that building in the future."
Quirking his head at the uncharacteristic comment from his icy superior, Ryan paused to let the mood shift before continuing. "Neither Hansen nor Jeffers survived. Hansen caught a bullet to the neck and bled out. Jeffers… well, the hope is that she was crushed by the shelving before the fire spread to her. But it might be that she survived the initial crush before the fire… well, Perlmutter or Lanie will figure that out. Or the NSA's people will, I'm not sure if there's a jurisdictional issue there."
"Which brings us to Cole," Gates prompted when it looked like Ryan was being cautious about proceeding.
"Which brings us to Cole," he agreed. "And you, actually." At her inquisitive look, Ryan took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "You had to get pulled out of there quickly, and I obviously wasn't back from Toronto yet to see. As far as I know there aren't any pictures of the scene. But from the reports that were filed," he explained while nodding to the papers in his lap, "Cole was on top of you. He took the brunt of the collapsing shelves, and the burns. He'd also taken two shots, one in the gut and one in the leg. But despite the shots, he covered you. He was dead when they found you, but even then he was cradling your head in his hands. It's one of the reasons the nurse did such a long cognitive evaluation with you – we needed to see if Cole scrambled you the way he got Castle and Beckett."
Oddly, the explanation made Gates exhale in relief. She'd worried that the long series of cognition questions was spurred by her concerns about Alzheimer's. That it was instead prompted by the death-clasp of a psychometric killer seemed a much more benign reason.
Ryan, recognizing her introspection, took his leave after wishing her well. Promising to hold the fort and return in the morning, he left his boss to her wandering thoughts.
oo0oo
November 1
"Good morning, Mister Castle."
Looking up from his green jello (for breakfast, too?!), Castle tried to smile at the Captain. She recognized his grimace and stepped forward to claim his guest chair. "Still sore then?"
Castle nodded but remained silent.
It took Gates but a moment to realize the situation. "Not supposed to talk yet, eh? In light of our recent partnership and to celebrate the end of our adventure, I'll refrain from teasing you too much," she offered with a smirk.
Castle sighed but offered a more genuine smile in his second attempt.
"I know Detective Ryan brought you up to speed and that your family is expected to arrive early this afternoon. Can I rest assured that you will still be here when they arrive rather than hare off against medical advice?"
She continued after receiving an abashed nod.
"Good. We'll have a full debrief when your team is cleared from medical leave, which won't be before next week and will probably be even later. Use the time to rest, heal, and reconnect with your loved ones," she advised with characteristic directness. Then, with a visible change to her posture, she reached out for him.
Surprised, he reached across his body with the arm that wasn't immobilized to let her clasp his hand.
"You did well, Mister Castle. You protected them, thought ahead to create a way to keep your mother and daughter safe from the unimaginable. And while they were away from the danger, you fought to protect your partner, too. You've joined a sad, elite society of those who took a bullet to protect their partner. I know…," she paused to tug on his hand as he tried to avert his eyes in embarrassment, "I know you feel guilt about what happened to her at the funeral. And I know you stubbornly hold onto that misplaced guilt. But I also know this: amidst the fire, the smoke, the confusion, the gunshots, the Hell in that warehouse, you protected your partner. Thank you."
As Captain Gates departed, she left behind a teary-eyed man who hadn't experienced how powerful those last two words could be.
oo0oo
November 9
"Writer Boy!" Espo called out as Castle approached his desk with Beckett striding beside him. Even as the words left his mouth, his smile curdled.
Castle, too, wore a frown at the old nickname.
"It doesn't work anymore, does it?" Espo asked as both Beckett and Ryan shook their heads. It was the first day back to the precinct for all of them and despite suspecting a rough restart, none had expected that even their greeting would be marred by recollections of Cole.
"Not really," Castle answered, afraid that today's tough discussions will be all the more difficult if they start with a sour note. "But that just means I need a new handle. 'Rogue' works, though I'm partial to 'Handsome.'"
Beckett merely shook her head while doffing her coat, leaving it to Ryan and Espo to boo and throw a couple paperclips, respectively.
"How about Lefty?" she offered while nodding to the sling he would've discarded long ago if he was not on best behavior for his mother and daughter.
Castle just chuffed and set down the cardboard tray of coffees he'd brought for the team. Then, after struggling like an (untrained) escape artist in a straight jacket, he finally turned a pout on Beckett who laughed and helped him shed his coat without fouling his sling. But she interrupted him before he sat down.
"I've been thinking about a plan for today," she said while looking at each of the other team members. "I know we've got some fraught territory to cover, but here's my suggestion: we start with a case debrief, putting all the pieces together as we would for our filings. Nothing about what Cole said, just what happened. We finish that, then reward ourselves with lunch." This suggestion won some enthusiastic nods, though they knew the tough topics were still coming. "Then, we use the afternoon to start clearing the air on other topics. It won't be comfortable and it won't be quick, but we've got to get started."
That statement provoked sighs and less fervent nods.
"With any luck, we can handle it ourselves in a week," she concluded, setting the hook. Castle, of course, obliged.
"What happens after a week?" he asked with feigned trepidation.
"If we can't resolve things ourselves in a week, then we'll all visit my therapist to let him take a crack at us."
With that promise or threat the team acquiesced, anxious now to cover the easier part of the case debrief. Each member of the team grabbed their files and their coffee before proceeding to a small conference room to get to work.
Again, Castle found himself almost immediately bored. Sure, he had many questions to answer, but he was looking forward to putting this whole mess behind them. Plus, he was dreading the afternoon's session where the nastier 'truths' Cole had revealed would be discussed. And the worst part was his promise to Gates that he'd stay for at least a year to support Beckett. He and she were on shaky ground before this case and Cole's comments certainly didn't help. And that's before trying to get past Ryan's thoughts on Alexis. But he promised that he would stay.
Realizing that he missed something important while he'd tuned out, Castle interrupted Ryan's discussion of his legwork while coordinating with Agent Hansen, back when Cole and Castle were still missing. "Sorry, Ryan, say that last bit again?"
"What, the part about what the Feds must've done to turn Cole into a monster so quickly?" Ryan replied. "We were actually worried that they'd do something to you for figuring out the psychometry aspect."
"Not that bit of the timing," Castle corrected, ignoring Ryan's concern for him as a likely attempt to ingratiate himself before the afternoon's discussion. "Something about this starting with Cole's epiphany?"
"The pile-up on the Jersey Turnpike," Ryan answered. "Six years ago, he was one of 16 injured, five others died. That seemed to shock him into getting involved, then the Feds picked him up when he was running his Robin Hood financial scam."
"What are you thinking?" Beckett asked, wondering what caught her partner's interest.
"Nothing," he answered with a shrug. "Just missed the explanation."
Castle sunk back to his thoughts, sometimes winning the battle to pay attention and sometimes drifting off to think about Cole and his comments. During one of those latter times, he found himself looking out of the meeting room and watching other detectives in the bullpen. He felt a little like Cole – watching all these detectives go on about their business while utterly clueless about what had happened, about the existence of monsters and the complicity of law enforcement to profit from them. It would be easy to disregard and maybe even despise those who think they've seen the full spectrum of human behavior while knowing that there was so much they missed.
Still looking out at the bullpen, his attention landed on Gates as she left her office and strode towards the kitchen. Just as Beckett noted what felt like ages ago, Gates walked toward the elevator, then turned to look at the kitchen. But rather than taking the stairs down to the third floor to get her drink, Gates instead walked into the kitchen and set about making herself a cup of coffee, masterfully using the machine Castle had provided.
He grinned while watching her, happy that her acceptance of the coffee machine might also signal some acceptance of him. Perhaps there was a silver lining to this Cole debacle. A small one, but it was something.
A ferocious sneeze from Espo interrupted his thoughts and recalled his attention to the group. "Sorry," Espo apologized, "picked up a virus after lying on that damned warehouse floor."
Espo's comment was meant to provide some levity. Instead, the grin fell from Castle's face as a series of thoughts flooded his mind. He felt sick at the possibilities, the implications. It couldn't be true, could it? But that would mean…
He looked back to the kitchen as the thoughts swirled in his brain. A virus. That's what Espo said. That's what Cole called his gift. And what's a virus? An infectious agent that replicates inside the living cells of an organism. But what happens when the host dies? What if it was a parasitic infection – it'd need a new host, right? Cole was normal until he was injured in a wreck where others died. What if the accident didn't change his perspective so much as put him in close proximity to someone who died with the infection?
Just like Gates, he worried as the Captain finished making her coffee and turned to look directly at him as if her attention was drawn by his regard. She was injured in the warehouse and found cradled in Cole's dead hands. And then! And then she came to see me before she left the hospital. She came to me and comforted me while holding my hand! And now she knows how to use the coffee machine…
"Castle, are you okay?" Beckett interjected after noticing his distress. "You don't look so good. Maybe we should take a break and you can lie down in the lounge?"
"No, no," Castle stuttered as he struggled to push his chair out from the table. Finally managing to lever himself up, he took an uneasy step backwards and Beckett rose to her feet to assist. "No, I just need to use the washroom. I'll be right back."
Stumbling almost drunkenly, Castle tottered away from the conference room wondering how he could dig up information on the five people who died in that wreck on the Turnpike. If one of them had the gift, then it could be tied to Cole, then to…
"Mister Castle," Gates said while stepping around the corner from the kitchen. "I was hoping to speak with you. There's something in your description of the Cole incident that I wanted to discuss."
"But I was… the team, we… now?" Castle stuttered while trying valiantly to get himself under control. Then, after taking a deep breath, he tried again. "How about this afternoon?"
"Nonsense, best to clear this up quickly," she said as she moved beside him and took his good arm in hers, unaffected by Castle's visible flinch. "I promise I'll be gentle."
"Yeah, that's what Cole said," Castle mumbled as they began the short walk to Gates' office.
"I'm sorry, Mister Castle, you'll have to speak up," she admonished with an impish smile. "Because I can barely hear you."
oo0oo
A/N: As I said above, this was intended to be a Hallowe'en story, so I hope you read it late at night in a gloomy room with creepy noises in the background.
Now, for the final notes:
Much to my chagrin, someone caught this and called me on it early. But this story was loosely inspired by Young Frankenstein. As you might've picked up from my other stories, I'm a Mel Brooks fan. Every name, place, and even the taxi number were taken from trivia about the movie. I was tempted to try to incorporate some of the lines ("Not the third switch!" "Elevate me. Now? Right here?" "Stand back, for the love of God! He's got a rotten brain!" "What knockers!" "Put… ze candle… back!"), but my story took a less comedic turn than the movie. (If any of you saw my twitter post last week, you might've noticed a IMDB tab opened to the Young Frankenstein page!)
Speaking of less comedic, I always knew how the story was going to end with Castle's epiphany and the spread of Cole's gift like a virus. So it was extra creepy when, after starting this story in the halcyon days of 2018, we subsequently encountered a global pandemic.
Not sure what's next, if anything. A great one-shot occurred to me recently and like a dope I failed to write it down and *poof* it's gone. Maybe it'll come back. I'm daunted by how long it took me to finish this story, but I'm also one short year from being an empty-nester, so we'll see what happens. Thanks for reading!