Another chapter because I'm trying to complete this as soon as possible! Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Richard Castle (previously and formally known as Richard Alexander Rodgers) was a simple man. He didn't need very much to survive; just food, a drink, and his beloved daughter, who even now slept nestled against his chest, in a sling he'd fashioned from one of his old shirts. Alexis Castle (for he could never curse her with his given last name, considering their circumstances) was as beautiful a child as he'd never imagined. She was nearly three years old now and was becoming far too big to be carried in this sling, but Castle didn't want to risk losing her again.

He shuddered at the thought as he traveled the alleyways of London, rubbing his daughter's back soothingly as he searched for something to eat, sighing at his incompetence.

At the time of Alexis's birth, things had finally started looking up for Castle. He'd sold three popular books and was able to distance himself from his mother's career as an actress (though her repertoire was next to nothing) and made a name for himself, landing him a beautiful wife, Meredith.

That's where things went wrong.

For the woman whom he once assumed was a talented, self-sufficient actress, was actually…a lady of the night. That wasn't too much of a problem for him, however, because he knew that, while they were together, at least, and after they were married, she had been faithful to him. Up until their daughter's birth, that is.

Alexis wasn't even a month old yet when Meredith began taking evenings out, claiming that she needed to return to the stage, where her fans desired her to be. And Richard, being the ever-supportive husband and father that he was, allowed it. After all, he made more than enough money from the books he sold to support them all while his wife fought to find steady work.

But it wasn't long before he began to feel the loneliness that seeped into his skin on those nights when Meredith would leave, not even bothering to kiss them goodbye as she went. Alexis was a good baby, but Castle recognized her discomfort when her mother was around; how she would squirm in Meredith's arms and whimper until the woman practically threw the child back into Castle's arms.

"She's quite the brat, isn't she?" Meredith would say, heartlessly, before making her way out for the night. Words no mother should ever say to or about her child.

Eventually, Castle began to follow her, keeping Alexis close to his chest as he trailed her to…

The shipyard!

Castle's eyes widened as he watched his wife approach a sailor, her hips swaying obscenely. The sailor seemed to recognize her and immediately picked her up off her feet, his mouth landing hotly on hers. At this, Castle saw red, stepping out of the shadows and clenching his fists to keep his control—he could not get into a fight with his baby on his chest.

"Meredith!" It was not loud, but the word echoed off of the walls of the alley and caught both the redhead and her companion's attention. Meredith's eyes widened in fear at the sight of her husband. She backed away, whispering something in his ear before hiding herself behind the sailor, who stepped forward, brandishing a sword.

Castle's eyes widened and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Alexis's sleeping body. But, still, he did not back away, seething with anger.

"You're having an affair with this man?" he hissed, shaking his head. "Why? Am I not enough for you? Are we not enough for you?" He motioned to the sling wrapped around his body and Meredith's eyes widened, her face blanching.

"You brought the baby?" she asked, almost in a whisper. Castle nodded and Meredith glared at him. "Why would you bring her?!" she shrieked. "Why would you put her life in danger like that?!"

"Danger?" Castle asked, his eyes flying to the dark brown ones of the sailor, who was gaping at him.

"You…you have a child?" He was looking at Castle, but his words were obviously directed at Meredith. She said nothing. "Answer me, wench!"

"Yes!" Meredith cried.

"How old is she?" This question was directed at Castle.

"Four months," Castle replied, his arms shielding his daughter, who was beginning to stir.

The man seemed to do the math in his head, before his shoulders sagged in relief.

"She's not mine," he said, almost to himself. "Too young."

"Of course she's not!" Richard growled. "She is mine! My daughter."

The sailor let out a rough laugh. "I hate to break it to you, Mate, but that's not a sure thing; you see, you're darling wife may have neglected to mention something to you."

"And what would that be?" Castle growled back; he already knew about her affair with this sailor. What could possibly be worse?

"She's a prostitute," the sailor replied, his eyebrows raised and his lips upturned in a cocky smirk.

Castle's eyes widened as the earth seemed to crumble at his feet.

"No," he whispered, his eyes going to Meredith, who had the decency to look ashamed.

"Believe it, mate," the sailor laughed, wrapping one arm around Meredith, who didn't resist, but instead leaned into him, practically melting in his embrace. "This whore has fucked half of my fleet—as well as a few others." He laughed wickedly at the look of pure disgust on Castle's face.

His gaze was steely as he turned it to Meredith, whose eyes were downturned. "Don't bother coming home," he growled. "You are naught to me now."

"Richard—"

"NO!" he shouted, fully waking the baby and causing her to cry. As his arms rose to comfort her, his untrusting gaze stayed on Meredith. "This marriage is over," he spat at her. "You may live as you like, but you will never see me or my daughter ever again."

"You can't do that!" Meredith shrieked, stepping from the sailor's embrace. "You can't take her from me!"

Castle scoffed. "What do you care?" he asked. "You never had time for her anyway; as far as Alexis is concerned, she only has a father."

"No!" Meredith growled. "I am her mother! You will not take her!"

"Watch me," Castle said, evenly, before turning on his heel and walking away. He heard Meredith shrieking after him and the lower voice of the sailor, reassuring her and most likely holding her back.

He rushed home, relieved to see that there were no fellow sailors waiting for him there. Quickly, he rushed upstairs, taking his savings from his upstairs vault and filled a bag with clothes for him and Alexis, cooing to the whining baby, who was hungry for milk, no doubt. He grabbed a bottle for her and planted it into her mouth, regretful that her mother could no longer feed her—he would have to find some other way to nourish her tiny body until she was grown enough to eat solid food.

As he rushed down the stairs, his heart was nearly frozen by the sight of three men, all in military uniform, glaring up at him.

"We have responded to a accusation of kidnapping from a very good friend," the one on the left said, his voice as menacing as his demeanor. "We are certain it's just a misunderstanding, but if you'll just return the infant…"

"Over my dead body," Castle hissed, backing away.

The three men exchanged looks, before shrugging. "Have it your way," the center one said as all three drew their swords. Castle's eyes widened only slightly, before something snapped in his memory and he turned, running full force back up the steps. The men charged after him, swords above their heads but he was faster.

By the time they approached his room, Castle was wielding a sword of his very own, his muscular arm protecting Alexis as he swung at them.

After that, it was a flurry of clashing swords and grunts and hisses of pain as they fought, the baby whimpering and shrieking in fright while her father attempted to calm her and simultaneously rid himself of the three men.

The first man went down when Castle's swing at his abdomen caused him to jump back, losing his balance and forcing him down the stairs. There was a dreadful sounding crack and he was still, but Castle didn't have time to focus on that as the second and third men came at him, giving him just enough time to raise his sword and deflect their blows.

"You want to kill her too?!" he shouted at them, motioning to the baby.

"We have no plans to harm the child," one of the men growled, "so long as you give her here."

"NEVER!" Castle cried as, with one swing, he decapitated the man, surprising even himself. The third man looked stricken when the sword pointed in his direction, his own clattering to the ground.

"Mercy," he stuttered out. "Mercy, sir. I beg of you."

"Leave," Castle barked at him. "Now."

The man—whom Castle could now see was just barely old enough to be considered one—nodded and stood, making his way down the stairs, slipping slightly in the pool of blood, and practically sprinted down the steps.

"This isn't over!" he warned. "They'll send more for you!"

"Let them!" Castle called after him. "They'll never find me."

CBCBCBCB

That had been years ago and, since then, he'd been on the run, disguising himself and changing both his and Alexis's surnames to avoid those who might be searching for them. He had a man he knew make him false papers to pass it off, too. And he found women he could pay for their milk for Alexis—women with children of their own who were more than happy to help out a widower (for that is what he told them). And through it all, the only regret that Castle had was the fact that running was the only life his little girl would ever know.

He sighed as he struggled to find food for them. All his money had been spent long ago, leaving him hungry most nights. But he always managed to find enough food to nourish his small daughter. He swore to himself that she would never go hungry.

But tonight might be different.

Richard could find nothing—not even chicken bones—in any trash bin he came across. He thought, fleetingly, about catching one of the many rats that scurried by, but thought better of it, not willing to risk disease that could kill his baby.

He was so preoccupied with finding food that he didn't realize where he was until it was too late. The sun was blinding as he took a step out of the unusually dark alley, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him.

The shipyard.

He was immediately paranoid, his eyes searching all around for any sailors or even his ex-wife, praying that nobody recognized him. But nobody seemed to, especially not with the scraggly beard he'd grown, mixed with the long, floppy hair he'd never been able to cut. And the clothes he wore, while once the height of fashion, were now torn in so many places and stained so horribly that they held none of their original color.

To the passerby, he would seem a lowly beggar, especially with his bare feet.

Castle never dreamed of the day when he would thank God for looking as such. He cautiously ventured further into the shipyard, spotting a few naval ships, but no sailors in sight.

Except for one.

The man was only a couple of years younger than him, and a far cry tanner, with short, curly hair, and clothes that had seen better days—but much nicer than Castle's own. He also had a knife strapped to his waist and his eyes were shifty, as if looking for somebody, as he walked around the fisher's stands, pretending to look around their wares.

Castle knew he was pretending, because while the fisherman tried to interest him in a delicious sea bass, another young man—whiter, with spiky reddish-brown hair—snuck up behind him and stole two fish from the stand, shoving them into a bag on his arm. He was gone before the fisherman even noticed anything was missed. The darker man paid for one fish and bid him farewell, before rushing off to the next stand.

Castle watched this happen twice more before a realization suddenly hit him.

Pirates!

These men were definitely not beggars, like Castle; they were thieves! But, unlike, many others he'd encountered, they must have traveled by sea, for not many thieves chose the shipyard to do their business. He watched them with awe until their bag was full and they sauntered back to the pier where their ship was docked. Castle followed at a safe distance, his eyes widening as he watched them meet two other women; both of whom had bags of their own. All four began to walk up to their ship and Castle realized that now was the time to act.

"Wait!" he said. "Hey!"

All four turned towards him, eyes widened, and Castle got a better look at each of them.

The short of the girls was colored, and her eyes were almost golden in the sunlight. She was clearly just an adolescent; barely older than eighteen, he estimated. But she had already filled out the dress she was wearing. The taller girl was exotic-looking, as well, with olive-toned skin and reddish-brown eyes. Her raven hair was in a long braid down her back and she wore trousers and a man's shirt, rather than a dress. She frowned at him.

"What do you want?" the shorter boy, who had piercing blue eyes, asked, with a heavy Irish accent.

"I need your help," Castle said. "I…we…we've been homeless for nearly three years now and we need food and—"

"We're not a charity case, hermano," the Latin boy replied. "We don't give out food for free; especially when we've gone to such lengths to—"

"Please?" Castle begged. "I'll do anything! I could work for you. Just let me talk to your captain; I'm sure he'd understand."

All four of them smirked at that.

The black girl turned to him. "You want to talk to our captain, eh?" she asked, her voice accented with something Caribbean—Castle had heard it a few times before. He nodded and she cackled, before smiling sweetly. "Right this way, den," she said, turning on her heel and continuing up, the three others staring after her. She didn't stop, so they all just followed.

When he got aboard, Alexis was already stirring from her nap. "Papa," she whimpered and he hastened to comfort her.

"It's alright, Pumpkin," he soothed, "Papa's right here. Everything's going to be okay…I hope." He lifted her out of the sling and settled her on his hip, looking around, waiting for the captain to arrive.

After a few moments, a door, that he surmised led below deck, opened and the colored woman stepped out with someone at her tail and Castle almost couldn't believe his eyes.

For, despite the large hat that obscured her face and hair, he could tell that the person walking towards him, with a sheathed cutlass on her hip, was a woman, with curves and all.

The off-white shirt she wore hung off her shoulders beneath a black waistcoat, and she wore skin tight trousers with tall worn leather boots that went to her knees. Around her neck, he could see a thin silver chain, but what lay at the end was a mystery as it disappeared into the valley between her—

"Sir!" the colored woman was attempting to get his attention. He looked up at her, flushing slightly when she gave him a knowing smile. "What is your name?" she asked; probably not for the first time.

"Castle," he answered. "Richard Castle, Miss. And this," he motioned to the wide-eyed redhead on his hip, "is my daughter, Alexis." Alexis buried her face into his neck, shyly, when Lanie waved at her.

"My name is Lanie Parish," she replied. "And this," she turned to her superior, "is Captain Beckett."

When the woman's head lifted, Castle could just make out two emerald green orbs beneath chestnut brown bangs, and a smile that set his entire body aflame.

"It's nice to meet you," the woman said, her voice smooth as silk. "Now…what are you doing on my ship?"

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Also, is there anybody who wants to make a cover for me? I'm horrible at photoshop…and drawing. If you want to make me one, you can send it to me on Tumblr (cassbones) and I'll credit it to you. Thank you!