Prison of Darkness

Disclaimer: Castle belongs to ABC and not to me.

Chapter 8

XXX

Kate felt more like herself when she got back to the station. The financials on Woon were waiting for her, so she sat down to go through them. Nothing popped out at her, but she studied them carefully, just to make sure they were normal.

The phone rang, interrupting her. She answered with an absent, "Beckett."

"Detective Beckett?"

The voice sounded frightened, so Kate put down her papers to give it her full attention.

"Yes, this is Detective Beckett."

"This is Andrea Woon. Have you seen my son?"

"Your son?" Her son was dead. Did she mean the body was missing?

"Yes. Michael is missing. I haven't seen him since we got home from New York. I think he might have come back there."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, he was very impressed with the city. He kept saying how much he liked it. It's not like him to disappear, but he hasn't been the same since he lost his job and had to move back in with us."

Something niggled at Kate. "How long ago was this?"

"About six months."

"How did your boys get along, Mrs. Woon?"

"They got along okay. There was a little bit of jealousy now and then. That's to be expected with two competitive boys. Mostly, they loved each other. Ian even tried to get Michael a job at his real estate firm, but it didn't work out."

"Thanks for calling, Mrs. Woon. If I see Michael, I'll let you know. Detective Ryan and Esposito are on their way to go over some questions. They should be there soon."

"Thank you, Detective Beckett."

XXX

The smiles Emma and Howard Tutweiller gave her were a little more frayed and not more genuine than the ones on all the posters, but Kate had to give them credit for trying.

"What can we do to help you, Detective?" Mrs. Tutweiller asked. Her tone indicated that they were Very Busy People.

"I just had a few questions about Ian Woon. I need some clarification."

"What kind of clarification?" Mr. Tutweiller asked with a touch of frost in his voice.

"It's about Ian's brother."

His eyebrows shot up. "His brother?"

"Yes, I was told that he applied to work for you. Did he get an interview?"

Mrs. Tutweiller made a face. "You mean Michael?" Kate nodded. "Yes, we gave him an interview. We owed Ian that much for being such a model employee."

"And?"

"And nothing." This was Mr. Tutweiller. "He was sloppy. He could barely string two words together. His hair was a mess. He was definitely not Tutweiller material. It's hard to believe two brothers could be so different."

"How did he react to not getting the job?"

The Tutweillers shared a look, then Emma said, "We don't know. Ian told him."

Kate stood up to go. "Thank you for the information, Mrs. Tutweiller, Mr. Tutweiller."

"You're welcome," Mrs. Tutweiller said, looking a little puzzled.

As Kate left them, she started turning her suspicions over in her mind.

XXX

As the day came to an end, Kate found herself unable to focus on work. She left a message for Ryan and Esposito, telling them what she had learned from the Tutweillers so they could interview Michael, if he turned up. Then, she gave up the pretense of work and told the captain she was going home.

He looked her over as she told him, his eyes studying her face. Abruptly, he said, "You look tired, Kate."

Of course she was tired. Exhausted, actually. It had been a rough couple of days. And she thought she might still be in shock from waking up with Jacek's wound in her arm.

Kate just sighed. "I am."

"Are you worried about Castle?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Listen, you have lots of personal time saved up. Why don't you take some?"

She looked down and played with the bandage on her arm. "I don't know..."

"Why don't you take the night to think about it? Sleep on it and call me in the morning."

"All right." She gave in. "I will."

She felt his eyes following her as she left.

XXX

Michael Woon was a jealous man. He had always been a jealous man. After all, he had grown up with a brother like Ian.

Ian was perfect. He had perfect hair and perfect clothes. He even had a perfect smile and perfect friends. Michael didn't have friends. He didn't have anything. Ian was good in school and, though he wasn't good at sports, he was still better than Michael. Michael wasn't good at anything.

The words from his childhood still rang through his mind, cutting and bleeding where ever they landed: Why can't you be more like Ian? If Ian can do it, so can you.

It was a relief when Ian left for college. Michael was sure it was finally his turn to shine. His parents ruined his plans when they spoke more about the son who was gone than to the one who was left. Michael became invisible.

Ian had passed through college with flying colors, and Michael had flunked out. Ian had moved to New York City, and Michael was left in New Jersey.

It went on and on. Ian continued to have everything, and Michael continued to have nothing.

Michael fell and fell until he hit rock bottom. Then, for the first time in his life, Ian had offered him a small thread of hope. No more living with his parents. No more chump change made from helping the women around the neighborhood with their gardens.

There was a job opening at the very elegant place where Ian worked. An elegant place in a fantastic city working for some very rich and famous people. Ian promised to put in a good word for Michael. He promised!

Ian held out that thread of hope and then, at the last minute, he cut it. He smashed through Michael's new dreams like a hammer through fine china. The fragments dug deep, embedding themselves in Michael's soul.

He had shown Ian, shown everyone. If there was one thing Michael could do, it was destroy. He had learned this from a lifetime of failure. And it had felt good.

It had been so easy. He went to Ian filled with rage. His brother had tried to calm him, offered him wine. Michael took it to lull Ian into a false sense of security. Ian fell for it. That was the last—and quite possibly the first—mistake Mr. Perfection had ever made.

Thinking about it made Michael smile. His brother had been so surprised. His blood had been so red. It was glorious.

Now Michael knew that he wasn't nothing. He wasn't a loser. He could go out and get what he wanted.

And he wanted Detective Kate Beckett.

XXX

Kate put off going to bed that night. She knew it was foolish, but her stomach fluttered each time she thought of what would happen.

She took her time with all of her nightly rituals, but eventually it came down to her, in her pajamas, staring at her bed.

Annoyed with herself, she pushed her unease away. She set her clock and curled up under her covers. Once she was warm, her worry melted away, and her perceptions softened as she fell into sleep.

XXX

This time, she found herself in front of the inn. It was dark and overcast and, for the first time, she found the air cold. A few stars twinkled through the clouds, and there was a slight hint of the outline of the moon. Kate shivered in the cool night air.

She looked down and found herself once more in her pajamas. The cold dampness of the ground seeped into her bare feet. It seemed that whatever she went to sleep in was what she had on when she appeared here.

She wondered how much time had passed this time. Was she too late? Maybe Castle was already dead.

The thought spurred her forward, and she hurried to knock on the door of the inn. If this was as real as Jacek claimed, then what happened here mattered. She might be the only one who could rescue Castle and save his life.

Her reluctance to come here seemed more foolish, even though she knew it was her way of coping with the fact that everything she thought she believed was coming apart.

She pushed away the self doubt and knocked again, this time more firmly.

It took a long while for someone to come to the door. When it finally opened, Kate was confronted by a sleepy-eyed Nahla. The blond girl was yawning, and she had a serious case of bed head. Like Kate, she was in her pajamas, but hers was a long white nightdress that brushed the floor. It was lacy and flowy and not what Kate would have pictured the girl wearing at all.

"Kate?" Nahla blinked, trying to focus her sleepy eyes.

"Yeah. It's me. Did I wake you?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Of course I did. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You can't control what time it is here when you go to sleep."

"Exactly what time is it? And what day? Has Jacek left for the Prison yet?"

"It's...um...probably around three hours past mid night. No, Jacek hasn't left yet. How do you know Jacek anyway?"

"We met this afternoon. At least it was this afternoon my time. When did I have that meeting with your mother?"

"That was yesterday. Kate, you're hurt."

Nahla reached forward and took her arm. Kate had taken the bandage off to get in the shower, so the puckered wound was visible.

"Jacek."

"Jacek did this to you?" Her eyes widened.

"He was trying to prove a point."

"I was trying to show her that she wasn't delusional or dreaming. If she's going to keep popping in here, she had to know what's at stake."

The voice came from behind Nahla and both girls jumped. Nahla opened the door wider so Kate could come in, and Kate saw Jacek lurking in the shadows. He was wearing nothing but a loose set of pants, and he looked imposing and impressive in the faint light coming through the window.

"Did you have to cut her?" Nahla asked crossly.

"It's only a flesh wound."

"Still."

He just grinned at her. It made him look creepy.

"It's fine," Kate told her, giving Jacek a glare.

"So, are you ready to answer my question?" he asked.

"Which question was that?"

"Were you planning on coming to the Prison of Darkness with me?"

"You're certainly not going without me."

"Me either," Nahla declared.

Both Kate and Jacek turned to look at her.

"What? I can hold my own. I've been traveling the Old Ways since I was ten. I can use a blade. I even know some magic, even if I'm nowhere near the Mystic my mother is."

"Nahla..." Jacek protested.

"I have as much right to protect myself as anyone else. If Rithisak completes his ritual, he's going to be able to find the Old Ways. I'll die the same as everyone else."

"That leads me to a couple of questions," Kate said before Jacek could reply. "One, how was I able to find the Old Ways? Two, Castle was shot in the real...I mean, in my world. Shouldn't he be shot here? If he's wounded, how can we be sure he hasn't died? Didn't you say your spy had disappeared?"

"That's more that two questions."

"Jacek!" Nahla exclaimed, then said, "Don't mind him. My cousin has issues."

"Your cousin?"

"I know. He's such a jerk, but he's family."

"Nahla," he growled.

"Be quiet. In answer to your first question, I'm not exactly sure. We think it's the Shadow Walker—Richard Castle's—magic. He has some of the old magic in him."

"How can he?" Kate asked. "He's from my world."

"If you had a child in this world, your child would stay here...Unless, in your desperation, you brought the child back with you. Even then, that child would only be able to visit you when he was asleep."

"Are you trying to say that Castle's father was a Shadow Walker?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. Shadow Walkers are too rare. It was probably one of his ancestors."

"Don't a lot of the..." She searched for the name but couldn't find it.

"The Kionji. Have ancestors of the old magic, you mean? Yes, that's true, but over the years they have lost the ability to find the old magic within them. They have been born of a new magic."

"Then what about Castle?"

"He's a Shadow Walker. That's why he's the one who has to be sacrificed during the ritual."

"Oh. And my second question?"

"Rithisak probably healed him. He wouldn't want his sacrifice to die before he could do the ritual."

This puzzled Kate even more. "Then how come his body hasn't healed in my world? I brought back the wound from this one."

Nahla opened her mouth and then she closed it. Eventually, she admitted, "I don't know."

"I can answer that one."

All three turned to see Kalahn entering the room. Where Nahla looked as if she had just tumbled out of bed, her mother looked as if she'd been up for hours.

"Mother, did we wake you?" Nahla asked, looking penitent.

"No." She shook her head. "A call came through the crystals. I merely heard voices and came to investigate."

"So, you know whether Castle is alive and why his body in the hospital has not changed?" Kate asked a little more sharply than she intended.

"I do. Let's all sit down, and I'll make some breakfast. Nahla, light the lamp."

"Yes, Mother."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Kate said.

"It's quite simple when you know how being a Shadow Walker works. Your magic fabricates an exact duplicate of your body to function in whatever world you are traveling in. Your consciousness is the only part that can't be duplicated, so your original body sleeps. For however long you sleep, you, in essence, have two bodies. When your original body wakes, your bodies integrate, becoming one again."

"So, if Rithisak has healed Castle, he won't be healed in our world until he wakes up."

"Exactly."

"And he won't wake until we rescue him from the Prison of Darkness."

"Right."

"And if he dies in the Prison of Darkness, his mind and consciousness die with him?"

"Yes."

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow," Jacek spoke again.

"Don't you mean this morning?" Nahla asked.

"Whatever."

"I'm going to make some breakfast," Kalahn said again. "You three sit at a table. When I get back, we'll discuss what needs to be done."

XXX

Rick Castle lay on the hard bed in his cell. It was dark out, so there was nothing to see. The wind was cool as it blew through his slit of a window, making the air cold and damp. Rick shivered a little and tried not to be homesick. He wasn't entirely successful.

He wondered what they were all doing without him. His mother. Alexis. Gina. Beckett. Lanie. Ryan and Esposito. Did they miss him? Were they wondering where he was? The same thoughts had been bouncing around in his head for weeks.

As he had been doing since the beginning, he closed his eyes and tried to relax himself. A scene came to his mind and he let it. He wondered if the player would be Nikki or Kate this time.

He knew it would be Kate as soon as he saw her. The two of them were subtly different in his mind—their looks, their expressions, the things that went through their minds. Kate was not as hard as Nikki. She was tough, but that was not the same as being hard.

In is mind, she was standing there. Her hair reached past her shoulders now (Nikki's was still the short, cropped style that Kate had when he first met her.) It was long and pretty, giving her a softer look that often fooled suspects—until she had them in the box.

Her face held an expression of incredulity. It often did when he spoke to her. Sometimes, he said outrageous things just to bring it out. In his vision, she was clad in her leather jacket. It was small and tight and he loved it. It made her slim body seem even more lithe and graceful.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Castle?" she asked.

"It wasn't my fault," he told her in his mind. "I tried to stay in the car."

"Where have I heard that before?"

"I'm so sorry, but you are going to save me, aren't you?"

"Why should I?"

He gave her his most charming smile. "Because you love me."

She rolled her eyes at him, and he choked up. He actually choked up . He wished she were really there. So much. He was sure she'd be able to think of an escape plan and, unlike Esposito, she wouldn't leave him behind.

In his imagination, he reached out and touched her face. He never would have dared to do that in real life, not unless he had a good reason.

He had to believe he'd see her again. He had to believe he'd see all of them again. It was the only thing that kept him going.

As the light of dawn started to peek in on him, he checked off another night in his mind. He didn't know how many more he could take.