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.
"They're coming out!" Ryan whispers, encouraging the team to pretend they weren't keenly interested in what transpired in Gates' office. His voice carries, though, and serves as a welcome reminder for other in the bullpen, too, most of whom were also surreptitiously watching the interview in growing disbelief.
"Detective Beckett," Gates calls out after shaking Castle's hand again, an occurrence not missed by a roomful of detectives, "a moment, please?"
Wondering what Castle's done and why the captain wants to see her, Beckett rises from her desk. She makes a mental note to hurt Espo later in return for his whispered "busted" as she walked past. But as she approaches Castle and Gates, the latter starts to turn to return to her desk.
"Good luck, Mr. Castle," Gates offers in farewell, "and don't be a stranger."
Unbelievable, Beckett thinks as she falls into step beside Castle, who's started heading toward an empty conference room. 'Don't be a stranger'?! She's seen Castle charm people over the years, but she never would've imagined him making any inroads with the cold empress of the 12th.
Despite her shock at this morning's development, she holds her tongue while they're within earshot of any colleagues. But as soon as he's closed the conference room behind them, her resolve crumbles.
"Castle," she asks, swallowing her other questions by reminding herself of what she'd been thinking before his unexpected arrival, "Are you okay?"
Castle cocks his head at the question, obviously having expected a different line of inquiry. "I'm fine."
"That's my line," Beckett replies while tapping on her scar, "and it's a lie when I say it, too. How are you really?"
"You probably know how I am," he replies, looking out the glass wall to see that he's still the focus of attention for several people in the bullpen, "better than anyone here. It hurts. Any gains from healing feel like they're lost to fatigue, pain, nightmares, and dark memories that sometimes…," he trails off with a shrug, which causes him a flinch of pain, which causes a huff as he inadvertently proves his point. "But I'll make it. I'm strong enough to do what I need to do."
"What about after?" she asks, trying to get him to internalize the cost of his reckless course.
"There is no after," he answers with a sigh. "You know that better than anyone else here, too. I'm just running for the finish line, Beckett. I can collapse once I breast the tape."
"Castle, no," Beckett rejects, shaking her head. "That's not what Alexis…"
"Look, Beckett," Castle interrupts, looking at his watch again. She's starting to hate that thing, since every time he looks at it seems to presage something bad. "We don't have much time. I've got an appointment and your cuddly new captain's watching closely," he offers with a smirk.
Smiling despite herself at his ridiculous characterization of Gates, Beckett watches as he lifts and reaches into his case. Her eyes widen as he extracts a small flat, square box, wrapped in glossy white paper and wrapped with a red, satin ribbon.
"Castle?"
"Don't get excited," he calms her while sounding wistful. "It's not the small box I once dreamed of giving you," he explains to Beckett's growing shock. "If anyone asks, it's a small gift of thanks for putting up with me at the precinct."
Shaking her head to jump-start her brain after his comment about a different kind of small box, she furrows her brows. "What is it really?"
"You asked me a question last night," Castle replies, seemingly ignoring her question. But she knows him well enough to know this story will wrap around to provide an explanation. "My side of that communication is secure, but I doubt yours is. That," he says while pointing at the gift, "is an encoded communication device. Typing your badge number twice will activate it, but then you'll have to come up with a new ten-digit code. Feel free to have Tory take a crack at it," he offers with a knowing smile, "but the unit will shut down and burn its memory core if the case is breached."
"And then we can communicate?" she asks, ignoring his prediction of seeking Tory's help.
"When I can," he nods. "My answers needn't be so circumspect."
Here we are, Beckett thinks, as she asks the question that started her day. "What did you mean, 'not anymore'?"
Castle pauses, looking at his watch again. With a sigh, he pulls out his cellphone (a new one she doesn't recognize) and dashes off a quick text, then looks at a seat but opts to remain standing.
"He's alive, if that's what you're worried about," he offers tonelessly. "And he should be fine now."
"Castle," Beckett begins, interested in some clarification but feeling like it's important to clarify their status first. "He and I, we…"
"I know, Beckett," Castle interrupts softly. "The DMB reference was a clever way of telling me."
Ridiculously, this cheers her. She used those initials because no one else would recognize them, but also because Castle would understand her use of them to signal that Josh wasn't around anymore. Despite its subtlety, Castle recognized the message.
"I knew before then," he offers, looking down and closing his eyes. "I overheard. When they thought I was unconscious."
His answer makes her queasy, forces her back to her earlier ruminations on how horrible his captivity must've been. Beaten, left for unconscious, and then subjected to a conversation about the man he so clearly despised.
"They decided they didn't need to take him to gather information," Castle continues, slowly opening his eyes and focusing on Beckett. "They sent someone else. Someone who could entice him to talk."
Someone to entice… oh.
Noting that she's understood his subtle reference for her, Castle finishes his explanation. "She was effective and he was bitter. If there's anything he knew that you wanted kept in confidence, I wouldn't count on it being private."
What could he know? She never confided in him, never shared her innermost thoughts. He didn't even know how her mother had died, Beckett recalls, until the terrible events at Montgomery's funeral. And he'd never met her father before then, or heard her stories, or…
"I need to go," Castle says as he rises and breaks Beckett from her introspections. She curses herself for wasting her time with Castle by thinking about the limitations of her relationship with Josh.
"Thank you," she offers and immediately feels terrible. Her gratitude stops Castle in his tracks, so unanticipated and unusual are her words. "Thank you for telling me. Thank you for talking to me," she continues, lifting her 'gift.' "And thank you for protecting me."
Her last comment makes him snort. "Protecting you? Had I actually done that, had I been fast enough to protect you, we wouldn't be here."
"They would've found a different way," she denies before getting back to her point. "But that's not what I was talking about. They couldn't seduce you. They couldn't break you. You protected me in unimaginable circumstances. Thank you," she repeats, loading the two meager words with as much emotion as she can.
Castle wavers in place and his façade slips. He looks so weary, so overwhelmed, that she can't help but reach out for him. He goes completely still when her hand grasps his forearm, all of his focus aimed at that small connection.
"Castle," she starts, emboldened by how well their conversation has gone so far. "Rick," she restarts, reaching for a more personal connection, "you never should've had to face that alone. And you don't need to now. Let me help."
Before she can say another word, Castle's head snaps up and he takes a large step back, severing their physical connection. He accepted her gratitude, but he won't accept her assistance.
"No," he offers curtly, bending to pick up his case.
"Why?" Beckett asks, her tone a blend of disappointment and frustration. "We've worked well together for years. We…"
"Because I don't trust you, Beckett," he offers directly, almost working to offend her to hide his moment of vulnerability. "We worked well on other cases, but not this one. You remember our fight before Montgomery died? I won't gamble Alexis' life on your tunnel vision."
Beckett's drawing herself up, taking a deep breath to prepare for a proper response when Castle steps around her to reach the door. With a hand on the knob, he turns back. Beckett expects another outburst, but she gets advice instead.
"You needed to know about Josh," he offers tightly. "What they did with him sounds like a preferred tactic for gathering intelligence and compromising people. Be careful when selecting the people with whom you'll share your confidences," he offers as he blushes slightly. "Professional or personal."
Before she can answer, Castle's pulled open the door and is moving toward the elevator. His progress is halted, however, by the group of detectives who were waiting to pay their regards.
"Is it true, Castle?" Karpowski asks. "You're outta here?"
Castle risks another glance at his watch, which makes Beckett smile. Perhaps her colleagues can disrupt his timetable, give her more time to convince him to slow down and include them in the case. Worried about sending him for the door, she joins the group quietly, moving to the periphery to watch the farewells.
"It's true," Castle confirms with a rueful chuckle, his façade back in place and all signs of his upset admirably hidden. "But I promised your new boss I'd leave without a fuss," he continues with a nod, using the specter of Gates' wrath to keep things sedate. "I've got to get back to my family, but maybe next time I'm in town we can have a proper goodbye party."
"Not at the Haunt," Esposito offers pointedly, though Castle ignores him.
A few people step forward for hugs or fist-bumps as Castle slowly sidles toward the elevator. He's almost secured his escape when LT appears around a corner. The big, laconic officer is moving faster than Beckett can ever recall seeing him move when not making a collar or on a basketball court. Word of Castle's departure has apparently spread and it looks like LT wanted to pay his respects.
"Gonna be too quiet around here without you, Castle," LT offers amiably.
What happens next occurs almost in slow-motion for Beckett. She can see the precise moment LT decides to forgo a fist bump, watches his hand raise and rear back before swinging forward to offer Castle a vigorous pat on the back.
The others miss it, but Beckett's team knows what happened to Castle and recognize his distress. LT's sign of affection leaves Castle wincing and pale, though he tries to shrug off his physical reaction by play-acting a tearful departure.
"Okay you guys," Beckett interjects loudly, diverting everyone's attention. "Castle needs to get to an appointment and we don't need any more trouble," she reminds them all with a nod toward Gates' office. "Let my team see him out. We'll remind him to throw a party some other time," she promises to murmurs of interest. "Not that he usually needs much of a prompt," she mugs, completing the distraction.
Her colleagues laugh and follow her lead, dispersing slowly with waves and good wishes. Castle gamely returns their sentiments, being careful not to move too suddenly. Then, his old team boxes him in, providing protection as they move to the elevator.
"Are you still 'fine'?" Beckett asks with a perched brow, skipping the middle step by incorporating his expected answer.
"That's what the ladies say," Castle tries to banter through clenched teeth.
"Castle," Ryan interjects. "You need to see a doctor. Jenny's got a friend who can help, off the books…"
"Thanks, Kevin," Castle answers sincerely as he reaches out to press the elevator call button. "It'll get better. Besides," he says in a valiant effort to recapture some of his old joviality, "I need to go see an attorney. The pain just arrived a little earlier than I expected."
"Drafting your plea deal?" Esposito pokes, still trying to discern some connection from Castle to Sands and Bader.
"Just attending to some family business," Castle assures them as he casts a quick look at Beckett. "Then maybe I'll relax," he suggests with a long sigh, pausing while the elevator doors retract in front of him. Stepping aboard, he turns to look at them. "Yeah," he continues, liking the idea of relaxing. "I'll go fishing," he offers as the elevator doors start to slide shut. "Now that I have bait."
The three detectives are left looking at the closed door of the elevator, wondering about his parting words.
"Did he just…?" Esposito starts to ask before Beckett speaks over him, wary of what others might overhear.
"Yeah," she answers heavily. "Yeah, I think he did." So, it sounds like Sands and Bader weren't taken for what they know, but instead what someone else might fear they know. Sands was a convicted murderer, but Beckett can't help but wonder if Bader did anything to deserve his fate.
Turning to return to their desks before they give Gates another reason to find fault with them, the team is surprised to see Karpowski sitting on the edge of Beckett's desk.
"He's really gone?" she asks, still trying to wrap her head around the writer's departure. "He made Gates laugh – you can't let him leave now!"
"Not my call, Roz" Beckett replies, though she knows that's not quite right. Had things gone differently in the shared past, maybe they could've worked the case from right here.
"Yeah," Karpowski answers as she rolls her eyes and pushes off from her perch on Beckett's desk. "'Cause there's nothing you coulda done to get him to stick around," she chuckles. "Just for the record – the next hot, rich, pain-in-the-ass who walks in the door? He's my shadow."
Ryan and Esposito smirk as Roz moves off, though they take pains not to check Beckett's reaction. Probably best to let things settle down, at least until they get to leave for lunch or a new case. So, the team grudgingly turns to administrative work. Beckett, meanwhile, tries to sort out what she should be doing. Flipping over the form she's supposed to fill out, she jots down some notes that wouldn't mean much to an outsider but help her clarify her options:
1. Convince him he needs my help
2. Take it back
3. Let it go
She pauses, looking at the short list. Her eyes linger on the last option as she admits to herself that she's confounding different choices. With a vigorous slash, she strikes it out and clarifies.
1. Convince him he needs my help
2. Take it back
3. Let him lead
4. Everyone stops
Leaning back in her chair, Beckett releases a long sigh. She's got four options and that annoys her – four options to match Castle's four tracks of investigation. But the last option isn't really possible – even if she decided to let this case go, Castle won't stop, not with the threat to Alexis. So, with another slash of the pen, that option falls away.
The first option isn't available now, either – Castle made it pretty clear he doesn't trust her on this case. Another flick of her wrist removes that possibility, too, her frustration-laden vigor tearing the paper.
So, two options remain: run a parallel investigation in competition with Castle's, or sit back and watch what happens with his investigation?
Her ponderings are interrupted by the ringing of Esposito's cell phone. He takes the call, sticking a finger from his free hand in his ear and ducking his head to shelter from the ambient noise of the bullpen. Removing his finger to grab a post-it note, Esposito scribbles down an address, then disconnects the call.
"Dispatch?" Beckett asks hopefully, looking forward to finally getting to a case after her exceptionally stressful return to the precinct.
"No," Esposito answers. "That was Lewis. He owed me a favor, so I had him tail Castle."
"What?!" Beckett replies, noting Ryan doesn't appear surprised by this news. "Why? We know he was going to see his attorney."
But Espo's already shaking his head. "You weren't listening," he chastises her. "He said he was going to see 'an attorney,' not 'his attorney.' And he didn't go to that place by city hall."
Interest piqued, Beckett ignores her oversight on Castle's comment. "So, where did he go?"
"Some place in midtown," Esposito answers. Then, looking down at the post-it note, he reads off the address.
"That son of a bitch," Beckett growls while looking down long enough to vigorously circle number 2 on her list. Raising her head quickly, she catches the curious look between Ryan and Esposito as they wonder about her ferocious reaction. "That's the address of my dad's law firm."