Chapter 7
"We have to go save Beckett!"
"You think?" Houghton offered him an eye roll accompanied by a soft huff, and he screwed his face back up at her.
"Oh. You already thought of that."
"Yes, Castle. I already thought of that."
"Okay. Fine. Well, let's go. Wait, where are we going?"
"The cabin is five hours away. Well, four now."
"And you know where it is." Castle frowned as he realized the next part. "And so does… he."
Houghton shook her head, grinning. "Nope. We don't think he does. You never went there, so even though he knows its basic location, he doesn't have any memory of going there."
"Okay. Good. Nothing to worry about, then."
"I wouldn't say that. We can beat him there, we'll be there by mid-morning, but he's got the tools he needs to figure it out. After all, he looks like you."
Beckett closed her eyes, laying down on the ground and letting the morning sun soak into her skin. Until the last month her dad's cabin had always been a place of refuge. Even after her mom had died she'd continued coming here, finding solace in the quiet.
It had been an easy decision to come up here to recover. If the screeching of the city - car horns, squealing tires, shouting drivers and pedestrians - hadn't been enough to set her nerves on edge, the news that her building was planning maintenance on the elevator had settled it.
She couldn't live in a fourth floor walkup, and she couldn't stay trapped within four walls either, which left the cabin as the perfect choice. It wasn't someone else's space, not the way it would have been if she'd agreed to stay in her dad's Chelsea apartment with him like he'd suggested. And it offered safety, security, a place to stretch her legs. It was somewhere she could think without feeling like she had a target on her back every time she stepped outside.
Across the garden, the forest seemed to still all at once; bird call ceased as the breeze halted, the rustle of leaves a companion no more. Beckett snapped her eyes open. It was too quiet. She turned her head to look around, but everything appeared normal. A crunch of gravel in the driveway broke the silence and she flinched as she twisted - grimacing at the sharp pain in her side - but there was no one there. Darting into the forest was a deer, and she exhaled as she tried to calm her pounding heart. The sharp cry of a bird merged with the sound of the wind as it breezed through the trees once more, and the afternoon was normal again.
She shook her head, sitting up. Everything was fine. She'd imagined… something and she bit her lip as she rubbed her arms, the goosebumps an unwelcome surprise. Nothing had happened. No one was there. She was safe and she was alone. She hauled herself to her feet, her heart still thudding in her chest, and she turned toward the cabin.
Whatever she'd just imagined wasn't real, but she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked - wishing she could run - back to the house. She locked the door behind her, her father's laughter echoing in her mind as she did so; he'd never locked the door to this place, of that she was certain.
She shivered again, walking through the cabin and clearing each room out of habit. Satisfied she was alone, she sank down onto the sofa, pulling the soft blanket around her as she rued her imagination. She shouldn't have insisted her dad return to work; maybe being alone wasn't the best after all.
The sentiment was hollow though. The more her wounds healed, the more aware she became of her emotional damage. She didn't want her dad. She wanted to be more than this frightened shell of herself, and she wanted Castle.
The heaviness in Esposito's chest had been a constant companion since Beckett had been shot. Castle had come back from the hospital looking like a puppy that had been kicked, and Ryan had been mopey. Everything had snowballed from there. A few days had passed without a Captain, and every glance at Montgomery's office had caused a stabbing in his chest that couldn't be explained by the spicy burrito he'd eaten for lunch.
The intensity had only increased when one of the juniors from 1PP had come to clear out the Captain's office, dividing his items into two boxes; one work related, and one personal. Tears had burned at his eyes as he'd watched the objects be carried out. Cartons to represent a career, a flag to represent his sacrifice. Objects, nothing more. He'd swiped at his face, rough hands brushing away the moisture that threatened, because he was Detective Javier Esposito, and he did not cry. Beside him, a tear had rolled down Ryan's face too, and he'd snapped, "get it together bro," shame filling him as his friend's cheeks reddened.
Fuck.
Nothing had improved when Captain Iron Gates strode into the precinct the following day. They'd had a single week of skulking in corridors, hiding in the break room, closing the blinds to the conference rooms, and alt-tabbing to switch windows as they'd pursued their investigation before she had unceremoniously booted Castle from the precinct.
An apparently broken man since seeing Beckett at the hospital, he'd slunk out. Mumblings about "pressure from Gina" and "fucking deadlines" had taken the place of any complaint the man truly had. To Esposito, the writer, his extensive vocabulary rendered mute by the intrusion of the F word more than once, appeared to be shattered.
Today no new leads or fresh body drops had Esposito hastening to find work. Anything to look busy in front of Iron Gates. The days of taking downtime when it came their way, silently sanctioned by Montgomery, were long over, and he poured through the cold case before him, the names and dates swimming.
Even for cold cases, Beckett would pull out the white board, uncap her dry erase marker, and meticulously write up the timeline to create a visual display. Ryan had shrugged at him when he'd suggested it, wordlessly walking into the storage room and hauling out a blank murder board, slouching back into his seat and watching as Esposito populated it. But his hand wasn't as steady as Beckett's, and his handwriting was horrible.
"What, you were a doctor in a former life?" Ryan quipped, and Esposito cracked a smile. Their team might be broken up, Castle and Beckett gone, but he and Kevin were still partners, and they still had a job to do. Levity was welcome, and if a certain writer wasn't here to provide it, they would have to do their best.
"You wanna do it?" Esposito asked, holding the marker out to Ryan, and his friend shook his head, a smile on his mouth. It didn't reach his eyes but it was a start.
"So… the weapon was never recovered? And the house was searched?" Ryan asked, frowning at the evidence. "And what was he shot with? A .32?"
"A .22," Esposito scowled back, using the palm of his hand to wipe away the chicken scratchings and printing it again. There was a reason Beckett usually handled the white board, and it sure as hell wasn't just because she was the lead detective.
Ryan shrugged, thumbing through the paperwork, apparently rendering Javier's timeline useless. "Pointless, anyway. A half-assed investigation from 1982? Even Beckett couldn't close this one. Look at this." He held out the ballistics report. "The details here are so damn sketchy, it's like the investigator never saw a bullet before. Not to mention the witness accounts." He picked up a second sheet of paper. "This one claims the perp was a man made of metal."
"What the hell?" Esposito demanded, snatching the paper from Ryan's outstretched hand. "Were they high?"
"Hell if I know." Ryan cast another look at the white board, his lip curling, joviality all but gone. "C'mon. Let's get a coffee."
Esposito lifted a shoulder in tacit agreement, following him into the break room. Ryan filled the portafilter, twisting it on, while he leaned back against the table, watching. Soon a thin and steady stream of espresso made its way into the waiting cups, and he moved to the fridge, pulling out the carton of half and half.
"It's so weird without them," Ryan started, his eyes darting across the bullpen to confirm that the Captain was indeed in her office. "It's too quiet. Especially without Castle and his theories, you know?"
Esposito snorted, thumbing through the daily paper on the table. "Yeah. A man made of metal? Castle would have a field day." The headlines all sucked; he closed the paper on the one that proclaimed Rooftop Party Rained Blood. If he had needed to know about it, he would have been the detective on call. He didn't need to borrow trouble or cases.
He took the coffee Ryan held out to him, raising it in thanks before bringing it to his lips. "You reckon Beckett's okay?"
Ryan nodded, his confident words betrayed by the concern on his face. "Yeah, man. Of course she is. She'll be back when she's better."
"She hasn't even called Lanie," Esposito confided, and Ryan's face fell.
"Shit. Must be bad."
"Mmm-hmm." He shook his head, recalling their early days on the force. Before Ryan, before the 54th, when he and Beckett had been rookies together. Their paths had crossed infrequently, but she'd been haunted, her eyes dark and her skin sallow, every time he'd seen her. On the occasions they'd gone out drinking together, she'd always held her own, the last to leave, her step still steady as everyone else weaved from the bar to the street to catch a cab.
Upon transferring to the 12th, and learning that Beckett was to be his team leader, he'd been pleasantly surprised to find her changed. Lighter. Not, of course, light - nothing had truly lessened Kate Beckett's load until she'd walked into a certain author's book launch party - but lighter. Whatever weight she'd carried as a rookie had lifted, at least partly.
Until now.
Who would come back in September? Detective Kate Beckett, the same woman whom he and Ryan had worked with for the last three years? Or would an earlier incarnation of Beckett haunt the precinct, her eyes dark, her step heavy?
The elevator chimed, and as he and Ryan walked back toward their desks, coffees in hand, they turned as a matter of habit. Esposito felt his jaw drop as Castle strode into the bullpen, but this wasn't the Richard Castle who had left, tail between his legs, some six weeks ago. Slimmer, maybe even… built, Espo blinked as he took the man in. Castle seemed to be scanning the room. Ryan raised his hand and opened his mouth, probably to beckon their friend over, but Captain Gates was out of her office before he could speak.
"Mister Castle. What do you think you're doing here? My orders were very explicit. I said to you-"
She was cut off by Castle, who glanced at the office she'd come out of before meeting her eyes. "Victoria Gates. Captain of the 12th precinct."
"So you haven't forgotten who I am?" Gates' voice dripped with sarcasm, and Esposito found himself flinching. Any moment now Castle would be beaten down, he'd turn on his heel, and he'd go.
"I know who you are," Castle promised, and Espo frowned. His tone was… confident. Almost disinterested. This wasn't the man who had worked with them side by side for the last three years. This wasn't the cocky playboy who had pushed Beckett's buttons, and this wasn't the guy who had fallen in love with Kate, so hard and so fast that every one of her oblivious rebuttals had been painful to watch.
All traces of that man were gone, and in his place stood someone else. Someone new. Esposito shivered as Castle spoke again.
"I'm looking for Beckett."
"Well, Mister Castle… she's not here." Disdain was painted all over Gates' face, and beside him, Ryan took a step back. Esposito swallowed. Hundreds of take-downs, and yet it was this confrontation that was shaking him.
"I need to know where she is."
"I assume, Mister Castle, that she is at home, recovering. You know she's on leave until September, and I'd thank you to not darken the doorstep of this precinct then, either."
"She's not at home," Castle scowled, and Ryan shifted from one foot to the other.
"Do you think she… didn't call him? Like she said she would?" he whispered, and Esposito shrugged, refusing to take his eyes off the duo in front of him.
"I…" he trailed off. Across the bullpen, Karpowski and LT were exchanging glances, as Castle opened his mouth to speak again.
"I think she's upstate."
Gates' lip curled as she regarded Castle. "Be that as it may, she's off duty for the whole summer, so frankly, her whereabouts are none of my concern. Your whereabouts, too, should be none of my concern, yet here you are, waltzing in like you own the place. Captain Montgomery may have let you come and go as you pleased-" At that, Esposito took a step forward, anticipating the worst, but Castle didn't react, his face as emotionless as when he'd walked into the room. "Mister Castle, I suggest if you'd like to get in touch with Detective Beckett you pick up the phone the way anybody else would."
Castle glowered at her, but even at full height, he was no match for the ferocity emanating from Victoria Gates. She stared him down, and he narrowed his eyes at her before turning around and stalking back toward the exit. "I'll be back," he hissed, and Esposito's eyes widened as his friend - a stranger to him right now - stepped into the elevator.
Next to him, Ryan shivered, staring after Castle. "Dude."
A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and to K&J for the beta! :D