A/N: I'm writing this just after I wrote Chapter Two, so I hope you guys reviewed, and so...on to Chapter Three!
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Stana Katic, but alas, people think it's good to want.
Chapter Three: Hellos and Goodbyes
The first step to take was not unfamiliar to Beckett; she made the trip often to see Hal Lockwood. This was the first time, however, that she had a companion. Castle was fidgeting in the passenger seat, his older distraction of his phone forgotten; he was now tugging on his seat belt, the zip zip sound of it grating annoyingly against her nerves.
"Castle!" The belt slapped against his chest, and he clasped his hands in his lap. She fought an involuntary urge to smile, and kept her eyes on the road.
"Sorry," he was still keeping their conversations brief, his eyes averted. They resumed their uncomfortable silence, and Beckett found herself biting her lip to stay quiet. Finally, she couldn't take the silence anymore.
"Castle, when I said we would be okay, I meant it," she said quietly. His head tilted toward her, his face still dripping with disappointment.
"Will we ever get back to normal?" He asked softly. "Will we ever be...the way we were?"
She chuckled, finding none of this funny. "No, Castle, I don't think we will." He looked down at his lap again, where his hands were still wringing themselves together, and once again she felt compelled to break the silence. "I think, after this, we'll be even better."
His head shot up to look at her, his eyes full of hope, and she took her eyes off the road to take in the smile that made her momentarily forget how to breathe. She gave him a smile in return, and slid her hand around his, just for a second.
"We're here," he announced, looking up through the windshield at the prison. "Ugh, do we have to?"
Beckett did not answer him, but stared up at the guard towers of a place that felt like her own special hell with distaste. She hated coming here, talking to Hal, dealing with what those conversations meant. He never gave her any information, just stared at her with the ice blue eyes that watched her in her nightmares. She was a darker person here, all evidence of joy gone from her mind and her face, and she liked having those moments to just revel in the sheer irony of her life. It made her feel like she was more of a person when she was away from here.
She turned in her seat to Castle, who was still staring up at the prison with a frown on his face. She hated what he was about to see. After everything he had dealt with today, she wished she could have just left him at the precinct, and done this on her own. She let the demons take her over here, and she never wanted Castle to see something like that.
But it was too late, and she was about to be too far gone. She closed her eyes and let the grief, fury, and wrath of the entire situation wash over her until she forgot where she was, who she was, and why she was here. When she opened her eyes, she was a different person.
"Let's get this over with," she growled, and Castle turned to her, alarmed.
"We...we can come back tomorrow, if you want," he stammered. She leveled him with a glare and he actually flinched. "Or not..." He watched her stomp her way to the doors, where she flashed her badge. He followed blindly behind her, and did not look up until they were sitting at a small table, and Hal Lockwood was being led toward them, wearing chains.
The glare of this man was enough to make Castle want to wither and curl in on himself, but he sat up a little straighter as Lockwood's eyes focused on his own, a battle of the blues. Ice won, and the ocean looked away first, staring instead at the counter, where he noticed Beckett's hands, clenched tightly into fists. As he watched, they relaxed, and he looked up at her.
She was a different Beckett right now, all sharp edges and narrowed eyes. He looked from Beckett to Lockwood, and found that Beckett was winning this battle of wills.
"Who died this time?" His voice was darker than Castle remembered it, and he started, looking at Beckett with wide eyes.
She showed no surprise on her face. "Who said someone had to be dead for me to visit you, Lockwood?"
His smile was menacing. "Because this isn't your normal day."
"I like to mix things up sometimes," she shrugged.
Lockwood leaned forward. "You see, I think this is too much. Not only is it not your normal day, but you brought your friend," he nodded at Castle, "you look like you've seen the ghost of Christmas past in your breakfast nook, and you haven't been this angry since...well, since you brought me here."
Beckett looked like she wanted to break, reach across the table, and slap Lockwood across the face. "A man named Josh Davidson died last night, but that's not my point. You have been here, so my need to interrogate you about a recent murder is less than none. I want to know why your buddy out there, the one with the marionette strings, thinks a civilian will keep me from finding his ass and killing him."
"Whoa, Beckett," Castle turned to her, but she ignored him. Her eyes were trained on Lockwood, who did not look the least bit surprised. He leaned forward, his cuffed hands on the table, and smirked at the stone faced Beckett.
"When are you going to realize that you will never kill him?" He looked like he wanted to laugh at her. "This man...there is no way you can get that far, you'll be dead before you walk out of this prison."
"Is that a threat, Lockwood?" She spat.
He gave her a very real smile, "No, it's just a fair warning. That way, when it happens, your lover boy over there," he thrust a thumb at Castle, "will have no one to blame but himself."
Castle looked taken aback. Beckett, for once, turned to Castle, and then back to Lockwood.
Lockwood laughed. "Richard Castle, novelist. You've written dozens of books, I'm assuming? So what do you do when a nameless, faceless man tells you that if you don't listen to him, the love of your life will die?" Castle found himself unable to respond. "The answer is, listen to him. But, it seems you were not blessed with an overabundance of brains, because you opened your mouth, and now here you are, offering your lamb to God," he turned back to Beckett, who was practically shaking with anger.
"I have nothing more to say to you, but goodbye."
Beckett looked astonished. "Goodbye?"
"Because this is the last time I will ever see you alive."
Castle huffed an awkward breath, "Well, that was...uncomfortable." He turned to find Beckett, but she wasn't behind him. She was in front of him now, stomping her way back to her car, keys already in her hand. Her face was tight with anger, her brows furrowed. "Beckett, he's just trying to push your buttons."
"You don't understand, Castle," she muttered, plopping down in the driver's seat. He waited, but she offered no elaboration.
"Then why don't you explain it to me?" She shoved the key in the ignition and the car hummed to life. She stared at the dashboard, lost in her thoughts for a few seconds before slamming her fists on it.
Castle let out an exclamation of surprise, and she lowered her forehead onto the wheel. "He's never spoken to me, Castle. Not in any of the meetings we've ever had, where I've stared at him for hours, pushed his buttons, tried to talk it out of him, he's never said a thing to me. And do you think it's some sort of coincidence that he decides to talk to me the day that you're sitting across from him?"
She looked up, and Castle was resting his head on the window, looking dejected. "He knows, and they have something planned."
Beckett put a hand on his arm, and he leaned up to her. "Something like what?"
He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I don't know, I don't know what they could do, short of killing either of us."
"What about Ryan and Espo?" Beckett asked, looking strained.
"I don't know..."
She groaned in frustration. "Castle, if this was your book, how would you write it?"
He didn't want to think about it, she could tell. He looked up at her, with sad, stress-filled eyes, silently begging for her to take the question back. She just stared at him, waiting for his answer. "Okay..." he paused, thinking. "If this was my book, and the guy I was counting on to keep you away from the case broke his promise, I would punish him. But I wouldn't kill you, no you're the focus here. If anyone's going to die, it wouldn't be you. No, so first, I would take away something he loved. Something he truly cherished."
Beckett's eyes snapped open. "Alexis."
Castle turned to her. "You don't think..."
A knot had settled at the pit of Beckett's stomach, and she was already dialing her phone. "Espo, get a unit to Castle's loft, and see if Alexis is there." Esposito, obviously sensing the urgency in her voice, gave her the affirmative and hung up immediately.
"I'm calling her," Castle announced unnecessarily, as he pressed speed dial 2 on his phone. The phone rang, rang, and rang, and went to voicemail. "Come on!" he pushed it again, with the same results.
He kept pressing redial, over and over again, never staying on long enough to leave a frantic voicemail. His hands started to shake.
He was rapidly descending into real panic now, and grabbed Beckett's hand without thinking. She squeezed it, staring at her phone, waiting for the call. When a call from the 14th Precinct rang, she answered it before the first ring was over.
"Beckett," she answered. She kept her eyes closed, unable to see Castle's worried face. "Well, then take the door down," she looked up to Castle for confirmation. He nodded quickly, and she laced her fingers with his. She heard the thud of the door falling, and the NYPD spreading across the spacious loft.
Beckett stared into Castle's blue eyes, his panic painted clearly on his handsome features, and knew she must look the same. They stayed that way, in complete, terse silence, waiting. The pressure of his hand on hers was making her fingers numb, and she was returning the pain, and then some.
"Detective?" The sound crackled over the line, and she jumped so violently that she almost dropped her phone.
"Yeah, we're here."
His voice was calm, and Beckett could already hear the sound of a disgruntled Alexis in the background. "Miss Castle is here, she was asleep."
Alexis's voice came over the phone. "Dad? What the heck is going on?"
His voice was weak with relief. "Alexis? Why didn't you answer your phone?"
The sounds of her fumbling for her phone assaulted their ears. "I was asleep, Dad, my phone was on silent. I come in to the precinct in four hours, and I needed the sleep. What's going on? Why are the NYPD at the house?"
He sighed heavily, all the tension leaving his shoulders, and passed the phone to Beckett. "Alexis? It's Kate."
"Kate? What happened to Dad?"
Beckett placed a hand on Castle's face and traced it gently. "He was just worried about you. When you didn't answer the phone, he panicked. Everything is fine, but be extra vigilant, okay?"
"Dad, am I on speaker?"
"Yes, sweetie, you are," Castle said, catching Beckett's hand. "Beckett and I are going to be home in a few minutes, and we're going to explain it to you then, okay? So...don't get too angry with me until you hear us out."
There was a long silence. "Should I give your NYPD fans a cup of coffee while I wait?"
Castle let out a shaky laugh. "No, honey, tell them they can go home now." Alexis hung up the phone and he leaned back against the headrest. "I cannot believe, I think I just gave myself a heart attack." Without thinking, Beckett placed her hands on his chest and felt the wild galloping of his heart.
His eyes dropped to her hands, and slowly worked their way back up, lingering on her chest and neck before settling on her lips. They were both breathing so hard, they couldn't speak. She let out a breathy giggle, relief filling the previously stuffy car. She lowered her face to his shoulder and sighed, letting the moment wash over her, and the stress momentarily melted away. Castle exhaled heavily, half a laugh poised on his lips. Beckett pulled her head off his shoulder, the smell of cherries trailing after her brown curls, and Castle leaned in to follow it. She, noticing his movement, turned toward him. Their noses brushed.
"What are you doing?" She whispered, her eyes on his mouth.
His reply was quiet, almost impossible to hear. "You smell like cherries."
She flashed back to the first time he had said those words to her, and almost laughed. Normally, Castle would have moved away from her by now, realizing that he had entered into her personal space, but he seemed to see something in her eyes, something that told him not to. She saw it mirrored there, in his, and knew this was probably a side effect of the relief he was feeling, of the stress that was overwhelming her, and let herself get incredibly swept up.
She closed the space between their lips, and let the taste of his mouth take her away from everything she was feeling. His hands were in her hair before she realized he had moved, and way too soon, it was over.
"That was not..." he took a breath to steady himself. "That was not how I pictured our first kiss going."
She almost laughed. "You mean frantic and fast and because of a case?"
He wiped some of her lipstick off of his lower lip. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
She ran her fingers through her hair and started driving. "This is exactly how I saw it happening."
Castle turned to her, amused. "And what did you see happening next?" He asked shrewdly. She raised an eyebrow and placed a hand delicately on his thigh.
"Patience, Rick, we need to go talk to your daughter first."