Somehow word of her domestic status had spread like wildfire. Not surprising in light of the sudden and renewed press interest in them. Multiple law enforcement deaths, conspiracy, coverups, celebrity (minor) all good enough to draw the media on them. Her.
They had even shown up at her father's door. His impassioned defense of her, more fuel for the fire.
His family are unavailable. There is no comment from them or their representatives.
Fortunately they don't find her hotel and she gets to hide from their firsthand questions. Nothing she hasn't already asked herself.
She is not sure whether the days or the nights are worse.
She hasn't worked out what she is going to do.
Vikram - the stranger she choose to protect instead of her husband - calls once. From the 'safe' house the 'real' feds had secreted him away to. The initial conclusion is that the heat of publicity had forced their suspect – about whom they know nothing - to ground for a while.
At least she's not gone gone.
Nothing is reassuring.
Her days are spent in pseudo solitude.
She is aware of the protective detail on her. Of course they are aware that she is not living at her home.
She spots Ryan one afternoon in the park. His instinctive, tentative half-wave evidence of the good man he is. She is glad it wasn't Espo. She's not sure she could survive his open judgement.
Only when she can be certain their eyes are no longer on her she lets go.
She doesn't have enough clothes.
She can't face shopping so she returns.
She wasn't even aware of the extra tension. Not on top of the near permanent twist that haunts her. Burns from her wound to her heart.
The greeting from the doorman was polite but measured. Everywhere she goes she feels judged. On trial.
Her key turns in the lock.
The place is dark.
No light.
No warmth.
No family.
Alexis had moved out (again) some time ago but was often there.
No Martha.
No Rick.
There is no note or message.
She is not sure whether she is relieved or disappointed.
All her things are as she left.
Nothing has moved.
Her tears burn as her sobs wrack her body her old and new wounds discordant and distracting.
In the end she takes just enough clothes and some toiletries.
She tried to leave a note.
But what can she say to make it better?
Make it right.
Undo her mistakes.
So she steals away.
The night before she goes back she finally accepts what she has broken.
There is only so far fierce independence and wanton self-belief can take you. Apparently she is brave enough to face down killers but not her husband.
She messages him seven times, calls him repeated but they are never answered , stayed brave enough to have left four voice messages. None are returned.
In her desperation she tries Martha.
Her call is picked up.
Nothing prepared her for the news.
Rick is in Virginia.
He has appointments at Langley.
He is investigating.
Nothing she has done has protected anyone.
Just the opposite.
She continues to call.
He never answers.
Not once.
She deserved every rejection.
Doesn't mean it hurts less.
Returning to work felt like defeat.
She wasn't sure she wanted to come back.
She longer feels confident but it seems like this is all that she has left just now.
Her family in blue.
She can be a Captain.
For now it is all she can allow herself.
Her phone rings.
"Beckett."