Author's note: Thank you for your overwhelming response to what was a one-shot. I have decided to continue it. It was pointed out to me earlier that Lockwood did indeed die at the hand of the captain – my apologies and changes made. Thanks for the clarification – next time I will go straight to the official website - the episode happened so fast I wasn't sure. Hope you enjoy.
A safe house by any other name was still a safe house…whether it be hotel, house, apartment or shack in the middle of the woods. This particular safe house was the former variety, a two story motel located off to the side of a country highway, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. An old fluorescent sign glowed faintly against the darkening sky dimly highlighting an exterior could have used a new coat of paint…or five. The fields of high grass which surrounded the building on three sides were slowly creeping across the fractured blacktop of the parking lot toward the motel, as if attempting to hide the eye sore of a structure from view. While the outside looked rather dubious, Kate had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised by the state of the room itself. It was old, true, with threadbare carpets and furniture that looked as if it had been in vogue when Andy Taylor still patrolled the streets of Mayberry, but it was clean and lacked the musty smell she had come to expect in such places. Though in her current state it could have been a straw cot in a concrete room for all she cared.
The day had reminded her of a slight of hand shell game with herself in the place of the standard pea. Her 'body' had been shuffled from the hospital to the local FBI office where she had been examined, treated and then packed into the back of a non-descript sedan under the watchful eye of two federal agents by the name of Blake and Reed. The sedan had then been swapped for a SUV somewhere along the New York/Pennsylvania state border. She had no idea where she was, having dozed off shortly after the last vehicle switch, and honestly, right now, she did not really care. The pain killers she had been given when the doctor had wrapped her bruised ribs had worn off over an hour earlier. All she wanted was to take a few more and try to sleep.
Kate avoided the small mirror set above the bathroom sink as she washed her hands and then gingerly splashed water on her face; she longed for a long soak in her own bathtub…but that was out of the question for now. The towels were as threadbare as the carpet but they still managed to serve their purpose as she dried her face and returned it to the metal rack on the wall. She exited the bathroom to find Agent Blake seated at the room's small table reading, her partner nowhere in sight. The woman looked up and smiled sympathetically as Kate sunk down onto the bed furthest from the door. She nodded her thanks as she found a glass of water and a small bottle of pain killers on the table beside the bed. She shook a few into her hand and swallowed them quickly.
"How are the ribs?"
Kate smiled ruefully as slowly raised a hand to finger the wraps hidden beneath her tee shirt. "There still there." Her pulse quickened as she remembered the impact of the bullet against her vest. If she had not listened to Will…if the bullet had been armor piercing rounds...she gave herself a mental shake and forced a slow deep breath into her lungs, letting it out slowly. She was alive…the shooter was in custody…and her friends were safe. That was all that mattered for the moment.
"My partner went out for food. Would you like me to wake you when it arrives?" Blake asked.
Kate gingerly assessed her level of hunger and then shook her head wearily. "Thanks but I would really just like to sleep. It's been a long couple of days."
The agent nodded and turned back to the file spread out over the table before her. Kate slid beneath the cool sheets and stretched out carefully on the bed, grimacing as her ribs twinged. She closed her eyes and willed her body and mind to relax, but sleep remained as elusive as it had since the Captain's death two day earlier. Tears weld beneath her closed eyes as she thought of her mentor and friend. It was hard to believe that he was dead…despite the mistakes of his past, despite his involvement in the case her mother had died because of, he had died a hero. He had saved her life.
The protection detail had increased after the events at the hanger, despite the fact that Lockwood was dead. The incident with the Captain had made them all weary of whom to trust as there was no telling how deep the cover-up went…that added to the fact that a few of Lockwood's henchmen at the hanger had been off duty cops definitely raised numerous red flags. They had a leak somewhere, one made even more deadly by the Captain's revelation that the man in charge, the man who had ordered her mother's death, was someone in a position of power. Internal affairs had swarmed the 12th following the Captain's death and the entire station was in an uproar, though a quiet one out of respect for their fallen leader. They were professionals to the end and despite the internal upheaval and there were still killers to find and wrongs to right. Roy Montgomery had died a hero and no one outside their small tight-knit group would ever know the truth about his past mistakes, or so she had thought…until the FBI arrived on her doorstep in the form of Special Agent William Sorenson.
The FBI had received a package from Montgomery which had the potential to cause major waves within the political and judicial systems of the State of New York. They needed her assistance as she was the subject matter expert on one of the more crucial pieces…her mother's case. Will had not known the details other than that the primary suspect in the case was someone in high authority and had to be handled with extra care while they set their drag nets in place. The case was to be handled quietly by a federal task force consisting of teams based outside of New York in the chance there was a mole among the local law enforcement…which was highly likely. In addition to the news, there was chatter that someone had placed a hit on Kate. Seemed that whoever the boss was, he was not going to be deterred by Lockwood's death. She had agreed immediately after Will had outlined a risky plan to flush out the shooter and stage her death. As long as the man was at large, she and those she loved were in danger. Her friends, Castle in particular, had protested the plan at first but in the end had reluctantly agreed that there was no other option. Whoever the big boss was, they wanted her dead…if the man failed chances were high that another would replace him. Death threats were a way of life as a cop, but even a cop knew when the odds were stacked too highly against them. The knowledge of their plan was to go no further than the small group residing in her living room. They already had one secret between them, what was another?
Kate sighed. There would be time to consider things later…after she had managed to get a decent night's sleep and her brain had a chance to recharge. She emptied her mind of the case and attempted to think of something more pleasant. A soft smile slid across her lips as Castle's warm blue eyes and teasing smiled filled her mind. I love you, Kate. He had stood by her, even when she had tried to drive him away. He had saved her life at the risk of his own. Warmth pooled within her chest, easing the pain, as she remembered the utter feeling of safety she had felt wrapped in her partner's strong arms…and the promise in his gentle kiss. She was still smiling as sleep finally claimed her.
oOo
The dim bluish light from the laptop washed softly over the face of the man who gazed unseeing at the words scrawling across its screen. The world weary blue eyes focused briefly on the face reflected faintly in the mirrored surface before him, a face lined with exhaustion and sadness…a face that had aged ten years in the last forty eight hours. A heavy sigh broke the stillness of the room as a hand slowly closed the laptop, extinguishing the last bit of light. Ice clinked quietly against the lead crystal of the tumbler as Castle let the aged scotch roll past his teeth and over his tongue. It was actually quite good…though the bitterness of the situation stole his ability to enjoy it. It had been a Christmas gift from Montgomery; one he had intended to share at their next poker game…a game which now would never come. It had seemed appropriate to drink a toast to his friend as he finished the 'in memorandum' he intended to send to the New York Times in the morning…a final salute to both a fine man and good officer. No matter his past mistakes, the man had died a hero…in the midst of a last stand worthy of any bestseller.
Castle let his eyes slide close as he dropped his head back against the headrest of his desk chair, soaking in the silence of which had settled over the penthouse. He had sent his mother and Alexis to bed hours before, insisting that he would be alright. It had been a long day for all of them, made longer by the added strain of his inability to tell them the truth. Alexis had been beside herself. She had clung to him for several hours after he had returned home, afraid to let him out of her sight while she grieved heavily for their lost friend. His mother had approached the situation with a grace and understanding as she had folded him into a comforting embrace and held him tight. She too had greatly admired the headstrong detective and she alone knew the depth of his feelings for Kate. Martha had survived numerous losses and hardships in her lifetime and she was determined to support her son as he slowly pieced his shattered heart back together. He prayed with every fiber of his being that they would forgive him when the truth was revealed that Kate still lived.
The tight knot that had lodged in his chest began to loosen a bit under the influence of the scotch. He knew he should finish the article…however he intended it to include Kate as well and, ironically, he found himself at a loss for words. He wondered where she was at this moment…if she was safe. Agent Square Jaw had promised him that he would watch over her. Despite their differences, the two men were united in their admiration for the beautiful detective. He knew Sorenson would keep his word. The FBI seemed optimistic that, with any luck, the case could potentially be over in a matter of days…if they were lucky. However after the events of the past few days, he felt as if their luck was teetering on the edge of a knife. His writer's mind churned with possibilities as to the boss's identity…each one more disheartening than the last. Whoever the man was, he had a great deal to lose. The endless trail of blood and grief that trailed in his wake had proved that he was willing to do anything to keep the truth hidden.
Too many secrets…too many questions…and frustratingly too few answers…
The most difficult part of the matter, besides lying to his family, was the fact that he had been effectively cut out of the case. His job – his only job – was to maintain a public face of mourning. As far as the rest of the world knew, his muse had been murdered in front of his eyes. She had died in his arms. He could not have written a more tragic scene if he had tried…well perhaps he could. His picture, a shot of him standing outside the hospital as they wheeled her away, was plastered on the evening edition of every main stream newspaper and their associated website sealing his fate. He was the distraction…it was up to him to make them believe Kate was dead. Paparazzi and newscasters had swarmed the hospital, the station and the street in front of his apartment building. Security had escorted a few of the braver souls bodily from the building. Castle was used to attention, and usually it did not bother him…but now it seemed morose.
The phone calls had begun shortly after the media had begun to release reports of the shooting. Both Paula and Gina had called within an hour. His agent had given her condolences. His editor and ex had wanted to know the future of Nikki Heat. His overtaxed emotions had failed him at her seemingly callous comment and he had told her exactly what she could do with her questions and his contract. Her soft apology had stayed his hand as he moved to hang up on her. Gina was not as heartless as she appeared when acting as the infamous Black Pawn editor...she wanted to know if he would be alright and Black Pawn needed a statement for the press. In the end she promised to handle it for him and left him alone with his thoughts, and an offer to call if he needed someone to talk to. He had thanked her, shut off his phone and shoved it into the nearest drawer of his desk, unable to handle any more well wishers.
His eyes slid open as a slight sniffle broke the silence which had enveloped his office. Castle set the glass on the desktop and opened his arms as his daughter shuffled closer. Alexis settled into his lap, curling into his chest as he wrapped her securely in his arms.
"What's wrong, Pumpkin?" He asked softly as he gently stroked her hair. His chest tightened as he felt her tremble against him. "Bad dreams?"
Alexis sniffed quietly and nodded against his shoulder.
"Want to tell me about them?"
He frowned slightly as his daughter shook her head.
"Alright." He soothed as he cradled her closer, settling deeper into the chair. Alexis relaxed against him as he began to hum a soft lullaby he had used to chase away bad dreams when she was little. His throat tightened. Her fears had been easier to chase away then…he had been the unshakeable hero, the banisher of the monsters. All he had needed was a light saber, a few 'magic' words and a stuffed monkey. He wished it were still that simple. He wondered how Jim Beckett had responded when Kate had told him what she could of the plan. It had been her one stipulation – her father had to know that she was still alive. She refused to put him through any more grief. He wondered how he would have felt had he been in the man's place.
Castle closed his eyes as he laid his cheek against his daughter's soft hair. Her breathing slowly evened as she slipped into a restful sleep, secure in the knowledge that he was watching over her. After a long while, he carefully gathered her into his strong arms and stood. His little girl was not so little anymore; soon she would be off to college…out on her own. The thought terrified him and yet he knew he had to let her go sometime. She was a smart kid…smarter than he had been at her age. He knew she would be fine but the father in him still worried. Alexis sighed softly as he carefully set her down on her bed and tucked her in securely. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Pumpkin." He murmured. She smiled in her sleep as he straightened.
He turned to find his mother standing in the doorway, watching with a soft smile. He quietly joined her, closing the door behind him.
"Does it ever get easier?" He asked softly.
Martha shook her head as she studied her son. "No. They get older, you get older, but you always worry about them." She reached up and cradled his face in her hands, drawing his head down. Castle closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to return as his mother gently pressed her lips to his forehead.
"You will make it through this, Richard. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you will." She said softly.
He nodded tightly, unable to speak as he pulled her into a strong hug.
"Try to get some sleep, darling." Martha murmured, releasing him slowly as she turned toward her room.
Castle remained where he stood until her door eased closed, then quietly descended the stairs to his office. He had writing to do. He would do his part…no matter how small it may seem…to bring Kate home and to end this.