Ugh. Another few minutes dealing with the case and it'd all be over. She just wanted to go home. She wanted her bed. She wanted her kid. She wanted her husband.
She wanted this case to be over.
Most of the time she could handle kid cases well…at least prior to being a mom. While it would prove difficult not to dwell on the idea of a young child murdered, she put her mind to solving the case, to drive herself to finish it in order to bring justice to the young lost soul. She thought before that she was often affected too much emotionally.
Now it was different. Quite different. With M.J. at the back of her mind, child cases hit too close to home, often draining energy more readily. She had to refocus, control the worse case scenarios drawn up in her head, or rather effortfully ignore them all together to get things done. Cases like this weren't merely bothersome, nor were they a burden. They were just painful. Unbearable. Devastating.
For moments at a time she composed herself just long enough to think straight. All she had to wait for was the results of the perps DNA test against the skin pulled from under the fingernails. She wanted to wait and watch the woman cuffed and sent away. It'd make her feel even just marginally better knowing they got the right one. The wait seemed to go on for a while, but only as an illusion. The impatience in her bones racked her whole body, speeding her up inside but slowing the world outside. She looked to her watch every several seconds, as if she'd immediately forgotten the the minute the moment she looked away.
"We got her," Ryan said turning the corner. A rush. She could feel properly again the moment she heard his words. She looked up, staring with steady eyes as she watched him go for the interrogation room.
She stood up with hesitation and walked over just as slow, arms folded as she peaked into the room watching Ryan arrest the woman. Her name was Maverick, and her eyes were thin and piercing, face taut with a clear arrogance smeared across her face. Beckett leaned against the wire divider, feelings of relief gradually seeping into her limbs, and even her heart.
"Don't be so happy Detective Beckett," Maverick started as she stopped in front of her. Ryan forced on her to walk but Beckett held up a low finger to him to halt his steps. "I will breathe this air again. I will walk the same streets you do and live the same way you do. I'll be back to this world. With good time."
Beckett smiled a wide smile, but one that hid her teeth. She hooked her thumbs over her pockets and walked as close as she could get to this woman. The heat was there, boiling, warning her. "This is world is one where I have a daughter. Her name is Martha-Johanna. She's a beautiful little girl. So you can guarantee that I will do everything in my power to make sure you do not exist in the world she lives."
"We'll see about that," Maverick said starting to walk again. Before she could take a second step, Beckett snatched her arm to stop her, getting close to her ear to whisper.
"I'm bound by the law to fight you behind my badge—but my husband? He's not. Do not believe for a second that he's beneath getting to you to ensure her safety." After letting go, the woman's face fell reserved, eyeing Beckett only from the side. "And he knows where I keep my gun…so keep that in mind before you make any…stupid mistakes."
No longer able to watch the process, Beckett grabbed for her jacket and headed home.
—
Beckett fumbled with her keys for a few seconds, struggling still to muster up energy to even thrust the right key into the lock. The struggle must've prolonged, as Castle opened the door with a curious look before she could get the right key.
"Hey," he dragged out, noting the visible wear in her expression. Without a word, she fell into him, burying her face into his chest. He took to her back and closed the door, just holding her there for a second, waiting for any response. She only heaved heavy into his chest, trying to exhale out all the grievances and miseries she held in her head.
"I just need a second…" she said muffled.
"You may not have a second, hon," he said kissing her forehead. And almost on cue, tiny steps pattering behind him grew in volume. When she let go, she saw M.J. running up to meet her.
"Mama!" The little girl squealed. The very delight in her face suddenly uplifted Beckett, and readied herself to catch her daughter leaping for her arms.
"Ah, hi baby girl," she started as she caught her. "How was your day?"
"Good…I ate ice cream for din!" Her words, though filtered through toddler slang, still translated clear to her, which caused for some raised eyebrows and pursed lips towards Castle.
"No-no," he started, putting his hands up as if defending himself. "I said ice cream—" he mimicked his daughters speech to play off the innocence, "before dinner, before sweetheart. We're still eating dinner, don't worry mama, she's had a bad day." He walked towards the readied food and beckoned them both over.
"Oh…" at the thought, she started to sadden, and placed a hand over her mother's cheek as they went towards the table. "You feel better mama?"
As she hugged her a little tighter and kissed her head, tucking it under her chin, she replied to her, "Now I do, baby. Now I do."