I'm not overly confident about this chapter but I'm sick and have nothing to do but write and update. You lucky people, you. Please review. It honestly helps.

Disclaimer: Castle's not mine. I don't magically own it.

Reason: Chapter 11

Albeni's apartment was in a grimy hallway with and even grimy-er staircase. I felt like I was going to get some sort of disease.

Beckett and I walked up the stairs in silence. I was trying not to touch the walls. It kind of reminded me of going to see Carlson the other day.

Except we weren't in an elevator and she wasn't checking her gun. And the diseases living in the walls could kill a small town.

"Don't they ever clean?" I asked with distaste.

Beckett laughed.

"Probably not," she replied.

"Aren't there laws against the construction of bio-weapons?" I asked, gesturing at a slimy patch on the wall. I shuddered and walked by it, giving it a wide berth.

"It's just a bit of unidentifiable sludge," Beckett replied lightly, laughing. She immediately stopped when her foot landed in a pile of...well...unidentifiable sludge.

As she removed her foot from the unappealing ooze and continued, she muttered something about calling the health department and expensive shoes.

We emerged from the stairwell and turned towards Albeni's door.

Then Beckett and I both froze.

The yellow tape was cut.

The door was ajar.

Good god, again?

Beckett put her arm out to push me back and I complied. She took out her gun and advanced towards the apartment. She burst in and searched from side to side.

"Woah!"

We both turned to the man who had spoken. His arms were up and his eyes wide.

"NYPD!" Yelled Beckett, steadying her gun on him. I looked around for other threats.

"Cops?" He asked, bewildered. "Is Colt in trouble?"

"Identify yourself," Beckett demanded, power-playing by ignoring his question.

He looked sort of familiar but I couldn't exactly place it.

The man was saying something along the lines of "I want a lawyer" but with more swearing and unco-operativeness. I tuned him out and let my eyes wander, trying to remember why I sort of recognised him when I saw a picture and it clicked.

"Tristen," I said, both to him and Beckett. "You're Tristen Albeni."

He clenched his jaw together and faced me defiantly.

"Yeah," He answered, defensive, "What's it to you?"

Beckett walked forwards, putting away her gun and pulling out her handcuffs.

"You're wanted for questioning about the murder of Colten Albeni."

As Beckett slapped the cuffs on, Tristens face was unreadable.

What did he know?

Oo..oO

"Think he did it?" I asked Beckett. We were standing in front of the murder board. We had nothing that suggested Tristen was the killer except for his absence.

"There's no motive," she replied, sounding weary.

She was right. Tristen had no reason to kill his brother. Actually, the only person who had reason to kill Colten had been killed himself.

I could think of no one that would want to kill both of them.

Beckett's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and sighed, pressing the ignore button.

Interesting.

"Hey Beckett!" Called Esposito, walking over triumphantly. He had a beautiful, evidence-holding folder in his hand.

"What's up, Espo?" Asked Beckett, turning to him. He waved the folder slightly.

"CSU was looking through Gary's office when they found these," he opened the folder and showed a bunch of receipts.

"Gambling?" I inquired. He nodded.

"We run 'em and find that they're from an unsavoury joint in Chinatown."

"Why is it always Chinatown?" I muttered.

I was ignored.

"Ryan and I go down there and ask a few questions and get nothing but with a little...persuasion," He tilts his head back towards a group of dirty, unhappy looking men. I took it to mean that 'persuasion' was threats of obstruction of justice charges. Esposito continued, "They had a change of heart."

"And?" I asked.

"They know Carlson," He said, "He was a regular. In pretty deep."

"So he needed money," Beckett said, nodding. That explained why Carlson wanted to steal treasure. He needed money. And by the look of the guys heading to lock-up, he needed it fast.

"But that's not all," Esposito added, "Guess who else they know?"

"Tristen Albeni," Beckett and I answered at the same time.

Esposito smiled and nodded.

"Tristen is a sort of loan shark." Esposito told us.

"So Carlson gets in over his head in gambling debts," Becket began slowly.

"He owes Tristen money," I continued, spinning it around in my mind

"Tristen gives him Coltens' number, knowing Colten needs the money,"

"But Colten pockets some of the loot,"

"He won't give it up,"

"He walks away and Tristen fires, half on purpose, half by accident,"

"Then he goes after Carlson,"

"Because Carlson knows-"

"And also pocketed some of the treasure!"

"He won't tell where it is,"

"Tristen gets mad and shoots him,"

"He goes to check his brothers place again for treasure-"

"And we catch him!"

I beamed at her and she beamed back, triumph radiating off of her.

Esposito looked between the two of us with a strange smile.

"Alright, let's get Tristen Albeni," said Beckett, smiling and turning to walk towards the interrogation room.

Oo..oO

"Look, lady-"

"Detective," I interrupted.

Beckett shut her eyes in exasperation and Tristen shrugged.

"Yeah," he continued, "Detective. I didn't kill nobody."

He looked defiantly at us, leaning back in his chair. His arms were crossed over his chest and his jaw pushed out.

Anger.

"Where have you been, Tristen?" Beckett inquired.

"Yeah," I re-enforced. "We've been looking for you."

"None of your business," Tristen said, glaring at us.

"No, but your brother's dead body is," Beckett said forcefully, "You say you didn't kill anybody?"

Tristen did not change expression.

"Then tell me where you were," Beckett demanded, "And we'll get this whole mess cleared up."

Tristen looked away, face still unreadable.

"Okay, I see," Beckett continued, "Wanna know how it looks from here?"

Smartly, Tristen didn't answer. It was obvious he had no choice.

"You loan money to people who've gotten in too deep. Gary Carlson needed money and you gave it to him."

I picked up where she stopped. "But Carlson couldn't pay you back. And your brother needed money."

"So you hook Colten up with Carlson to pull a job on a museum and get money."

"But you don't get your money."

"Nope. Your brother double crossed you. Your little brother, who'd you'd always looked out for, had slapped you across the face."

Tristen looked back at us, anger now clearly visible on his face. We continued, relentless.

"So you go after him, to get your money. But he insults you and walks away."

"You fire the gun before you know what you're doing."

"And Colten falls into the hole."

"Hole?" Tristen choked out.

He was ignored.

"There's nothing you can do but run. And run you do."

"Right to Carlson."

"He won't give up the treasure either. He's buried it."

I looked at Beckett in surprise and she was looking right back at me.

"But he's made a map."

"So you take the map and kill him in the closet."

"And escape when we arrive."

"Something's missing though."

Yes!

"You go to Colten's apartment."

"And we catch you."

Beckett and I turned back to Tristen who was staring between us with a mixture of anger and incredulity on his face.

"You two watch too many movies," he told us, "That's crazy!"

"Where were you, Tristen?"

"Have you ever lost somebody?" Tristen asked, looking first at me, then Beckett.

There was no answer but I felt Beckett tense slightly beside me. It was a subtle change, Tristen wouldn't pick up on it.

"It's like a stabbing in your gut. And you're accusing me of killing my brother? Have you ever been accused of the death of a loved one? No. I would never hurt Colten," he slammed his fist on the table, "Never!"

Beckett clenched her jaw and her fingers twitched. She wanted to touch her mother's ring.

Tristen looked away again and crumpled slightly.

"Carlson didn't owe me anything. He'd stopped gambling months ago. I had no problem with him."

"Where, Tristen. Tell me where." Beckett demanded, not showing his earlier inquiry had affected her.

Tristen swallowed and the anger left him.

"Colt had stopped answering my calls when he got outta jail. Can't really blame him," Tristen said, still not looking at us. He took a breath and continued, "I went there today to apologise. I've been in rehab."

There was no joy in his voice.

"Which centre?"

"Safehaven," he muttered.

Beckett stood up and I followed her lead.

"I'll check it out," she said.

Tristen didn't respond. He just looked defeated now.

Beckett strode out and I followed, sparing one glance for the broken man still sitting at the table.

"Tristens alibi checks," Ryan told Beckett and I, walking over from his desk, "Been there since he got out of jail. Signed himself in and didn't leave until today."

"So we got nothing," Beckett said, "Again."

This case was annoying. Dead ends galore.

Beckett had been fidgeting with her mothers ring since the interrogation, pulling on the chain and twirling it around, staring at it sometimes. I don't think she realized she was doing it.

Beckett's phone rang and I stuck a glance at the caller ID.

Josh. Again. It was the third time he'd called in the past two hours.

Beckett answered.

"Beckett," she said, professionally, before walking away, out of earshot.

I turned to Ryan who had been watching her retreating from with concern.

"You know what's...?" I started vaguely, searching for more information.

Ryan looked behind me, confused for a few moments. Just as I was about to turn and take a look for myself...

"Nope," Ryan told me definitively before turning and walking back to his desk.

Okay, that was strange.

Then I heard Beckett's voice. She was yelling.

"You can't just show up here and yell! I'm at work!"

"You're always at work! I never see you! What the hell am I supposed to do?" It was a male voice and I recognised it.

Josh.

The bull pen had gone silent but the quarrelling couple didn't seem to notice.

"So this is all my fault? I have a job, Josh!"

"You know that's not what I mean! There's something between you and that asshole writer of yours."

"He's my partner! I'm not cheating on you!"

The voices had gotten louder. I looked at Ryan and Esposito in alarm. We all stood up at once.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I never see you!"

"Yeah, cause you're at work!"

"I have an important job!"

Ryan, Esposito and I started towards where the yelling was coming from. We didn't have to go far.

By the entrance to the stairwell, Kate and Josh stood, face to face, screaming at each other. Both of them had clenched fists.

"Yeah? Well so do I!"

"Sure. They're dead, Kate. You can leave on time. They can be put on hold if we have a date."

"Oh, so my cases can be put on hold but you can't turn your damn pager off?"

"I save lives!"

"And I bring closure!"

"These people are not your mother, Kate!"

Ohmygod he did not just. I took an angry step forwards.

"You-" she began deadly silent. She was shaking and looked ready to hurt someone. Josh stared down at her, repenting nothing.

"Kate," I said softly. She didn't look at me, but Josh did.

"Screw off, Castle, I know what's going on between you two," he growled, looking between Kate and I. "I'm not an idiot."

Obviously, he was.

"Josh, back off," I told him, "Kate would never cheat on you. That accusation is ridiculous!"

I stepped forwards . Kate looked like she could kill him.

Kate began speaking again.

"You have no right," She growled, "No right to mention my mother! No right to come in here and say I'm cheating on you with Castle!"

Josh began to open his mouth.

"Get out!" Beckett screamed. Her wall had cracked to pieces and she was on the edge. So many emotions were swirling across her face, they were impossible to keep track of.

Pain was most prominent.

Ryan and Esposito started forwards again, towards Josh.

"I'm not going anywhere!" he said, stepping towards her, "We are not done."

"We are," she said, calmly, but I could hear her voice shaking. "Get out."

"No," Josh said stepping towards her. She didn't step back. In fact, she stepped towards him.

Ryan and Esposito both grabbed Josh and shoved him back against the wall and I grabbed Kate's arm.

"Get out," Esposito growled.

"Before we charge you with everything we can think of," Ryan finished.

Josh pulled himself upright and glared at Kate once more.

"We are not done here," he said.

She did not respond.

Ryan and Esposito grabbed him and pushed him back towards the elevator.

When he was gone, Kate sunk against the wall. I released her.

"Shit," she whispered.

I walked over to her and leaned next to her cautiously, wondering if she would accept my presence.

"Yeah," I agreed, "Are you ok?"

She covered her face with her hands and let out a small noise of frustration that threatened to turn into a scream.

"It's not your fault," I told her in a whisper. There was no response.

I wanted to pull her into a lasting hug, rock her and tell her it would be ok. Anything to take her pain away. Seeing her hurt was like being stabbed in the gut and it was worse knowing that I could do nothing,

"Maybe you should head out early," I suggested quietly.

She stayed in the same position, silent now.

Her response was so quiet I had to strain to hear her.

"Maybe,"

"Would you like me to drive you somewhere?" I asked. She couldn't drive like this.

I was vaguely aware of Ryan and Esposito returning. I heard them yelling at everyone to get back to work.

Beckett did as well.

"Shit," she muttered, taking her hands away from her face and leaning her head against the wall, "That was stupid."

"It's not your fault," I told her, leaning in, "He had no right."

She was silent. She refused to look at me, instead she focused her attention on the ceiling.

The pain in her eyes was palpable. She was trying frantically to compartmentalize and build her wall back again.

She took a deep breath and stepped away from the wall of the hallway.

"Let's go back to work," she said, finally looking at me. To the untrained Beckett observer, there was nothing in her eyes. But I saw the residual pain.

And it killed me.

"Yeah, maybe we'll be able to catch a lead," I said jokingly.

She smiled. "We're gunna crack this case wide open," she replied.

I held out my hand in an invitation for her to feed the birds.

With a smile that reached her eyes, she did.

Oo..oO

So I may have gone kinda OOC with Beckett there. The fight and all... Meh, I don't know. I didn't think that a little thing like a screaming match with Dr. Motorcycle Boy would deter her from work.

I would love your thoughts.