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Gone
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Chapter Four
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How far can you travel to find what is gone? AU after Boom (2x18).
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The gap between them as they sit on the mattress hasn't altered from the two feet or so that they'd started out with. Since they were shut up in here neither of them have said a word, and Kate tries not to stare at the toilet, because the more she does, the more she needs to go.
And that's most definitely going to break the ice between them.
Still, she can't help the fidget that wiggles its way through her body, the pressure on her bladder escalating with each passing minute. It's only been ten according to her father's watch, but they've been ten very long ones.
"Do you need to use the toilet, too?"
Castle's question curls up with amusement, and she turns her head, glares in his direction, but as she does so, whatever heat she was attempting to instill in her stare no doubt falls flat.
"It's okay, I promise not to look."
"Like you promised not to look when I was in the tub?"
Both his hands lift between them, palms facing her as he surrenders, his jaw dropping even as his eyebrows dance, and she pushes a hand into his shoulder.
"Yeah, you saw, Castle, don't try to deny it."
"There was plenty more I wanted to see that I didn't."
He's turning away, his back to the toilet, and for a second the honesty of what he'd meant catches her by surprise. There was a little more text than they normally throw around in their banter, but with a shake of her head, she lets it slide.
Raising his fingers to his ears, his hands cup the side of his head, 'blocking' the sound, and as he begins to sing "Row, row, row your boat" the sight before her becomes surreal.
"What are you doing?" She tugs at his elbow, and he twists, a shoulder shrugging.
"It's what I would do for Alexis when she was too old to go with me into the men's bathroom, but she was afraid to go into the women's alone. I'd stand in the doorway and sing to her, while blocking my ears."
His gaze meets hers, and every molecule of air flees the room in a rush, the simple task of breathing damn near impossible.
"She'd be so scared but she didn't want me to hear her go." His voice cracks as he struggles to complete his explanation, and she crawls closer to his side, her thumb ghosting over his knuckles where his hand has fallen onto the bed between them. "She must be so scared, Beckett."
Swallowing all the useless reassurances - there is no way that Alexis wouldn't be petrified right now - Kate shifts until she can brush her hand alongside his cheek, her chest pressing against his side, and he slumps into her embrace, his solid form curling around her torso.
The crash of the door against the wall jerks them apart, and the sudden loss of his body heat results in a shiver darting down her spine, while their carry-on bags - the ones they haven't seen since they'd sat in the chauffeured car, blinded by hoods - land at their feet.
She places his missing warmth in a box, the one that contains all the other memories of them crossing the line that exists, the line they're not supposed to cross.
Although for the life of her, she can't quite remember the reason why they're standing apart right now…
"Don't let me interrupt you." The smirk in the hooded man's voice doesn't need to be seen, it leeches from underneath the material, creeping across her skin, and Castle bristles beside her, shifts to stand, but she fists his shirt within her fingers.
Prevents a pissing contest from erupting.
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Rick stretches, his lower back spasming at his movements, and he furrows his forehead, confusion rising like the tide as he attempts to open his eyes in the dim light, the long florescent bulb above capturing his attention.
Shit.
Curling his fingers into a ball, the memories of where he is, and more importantly why he's here, flood his mind, and he chokes, swallowing the rush of tears. They've been constantly lapping at the dam he's placed his emotions in, but he can't let them out; it had come too close with Beckett and the memories of Alexis as a child. And squeezing his eyes closed, he instead brings to life the image of the man standing in the shadows, taunting him with the footage of his daughter in a room just like this one.
Alone, without the knowledge that he is here, that he's willing to do anything to free her from this hell.
He opens his eyes again, that's not helping either, although at least the despair has been replaced with anger, and, listing his head sideways, he watches Beckett dozing beside him.
After their bags had been returned, they'd awkwardly changed into sweats to sleep in, had even managed to use the toilet thanks to his singing tactics. They'd lain on the mattress with a good foot or so between them, but at some point they must have searched each other out, leaving his left hand gripping the material of her hoodie.
Damn, if only these were different circumstances he'd be living the dream.
"Starin', Castle?"
"Was just weighing up the ways you could kill me given your gun is at home."
"Why am I killing you?" Beckett snuggles - he swears it's a snuggle - into his arm, which has somehow found its way under her head.
"No reason."
"Well as long as that hand stays on the outside of my shirt it will stay no reason."
He lifts his lips in a smile as her eyes flutter open, her body unfortunately rolling away from his.
"We need a plan, Castle. We can't just keep reacting to what they throw at us. We need to start working out a way to get to Alexis, grab her, and get the hell out of here."
Raising himself onto his elbow, he peers down at her, amazed that she's barely been awake for a minute and she's already switched to on-the-job mode, saying what needs to be said. Yet, he's been pushing those thoughts down deep along with his emotions, because for the life of him, he can't see any solutions to those problems.
He's always been able to think outside the box, but this, this has him drawing a blank everywhere he looks.
"I…" If this were his story, what would he write? "I…" God, why can't he do this?
"We're just trading theory, Castle. Throwing ideas around."
"I would have her close by, keep everything contained."
"They don't have a lot of money judging by their resources."
He opens his mouth to disagree when another clue falls into place; it's all a façade, a good one, but underneath the posturing it's all fake.
"They want us to think they do, and they haven't asked for money, so this isn't about wanting to be rich either."
Beckett moves into a sitting position, drawing her legs sideways as she leans in his direction.
"Your wallet was still in your carry-on when they returned it. All your credit cards, your cash - did you really think packing that much was wise? They could be doing serious damage to your bank accounts, and yet, all that they've taken is our cells."
"So what can I give them if not money?"
What the hell do they want from him?
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They've fallen into silence, and she lowers herself down onto her back, stares at the one and only light in the cement block room that's currently their accommodation, Castle's question running around and around.
Why kidnap Alexis? Why use her as leverage and turn Castle into their puppet?
The door opens with a bang, and she catapults into a sitting position.
It's time to get some answers.
"What do you want?"
Castle jumps in ahead of her, standing and stepping forward, but instead of getting answers, the hooded man throws a plastic bag onto the ground.
Is it the same man as before, or a different one? And she drops her stare, observes his pants, his shoes, the black mark that peaks out from under his sleeve, a hint of a tattoo?
He's pivoting without a word, the Uzi pointing over his shoulder and at them, and it's the last thing she sees before the door shuts, the lock clicking into place.
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"It's a bag full of clothes?" He shakes his head, curiosity bleeding through his veins, spilling out and over his words. There's a linen short sleeve shirt and a pair of slacks, washed out whites, and a designer sundress that's out of date but would have cost a pretty penny at one time.
"For both of us?"
He tugs the dress out, holding it against his body as the plastic bag falls to the floor, and raising an eyebrow, he gazes at Beckett.
"This is totally my color."
Her snort of response matches her look of pure disbelief, and he smirks, wiggling his hips before throwing the dress in her direction.
"Are we expected to change? 'Cause, Castle, this couldn't get much more peculiar. It looks like we're off to a party?"
Shrugging a shoulder, he bends, pulling out his own outfit. He should turn, give Beckett some privacy, but pulling her pigtails is about the only thing holding him together at this stage, and he reaches for the bottom of his sweater.
They'd traded their traveling clothes for the comfort of sweats with their backs turned, too tired and stressed to do much more than hit the mattress, now though, he strips down to his shirt, waits for her admonishment.
"I'm not a groupie, Castle. I don't need to see what you're flashing." Beckett crosses the room, standing in the far corner, and after a glare over her shoulder, she faces the wall.
If he hadn't been so proud of her comeback, hadn't still been looking her way a moment too long, he would have missed her sneaky double take, her stare washing across his upper body as he shifts to remove his t-shirt next.
He did always suspect that her groupie status was a lot more entrenched than she makes out.
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The door opens, but they're ready this time, and her hand reaches for Castle's. She'd never live this down if they were at home, if the boys were here to see this, but she's just keeping up the façade that they're a couple.
It's nothing more than an act to ensure that they stay together.
It's safer this way.
It's- hell, it's the only thing that has prevented the dread from consuming her whole.
Their usher stands back - this time there's no tattoo showing, although the outfit is the same - and as one, they exit their cell, heading left thanks to the tip of their kidnapper's sub machine gun showing the way.
She slows her walk down as much as she can without appearing obvious, Castle matching her stride perfectly, and she notes the details of the corridor, her head clearer than it was when they'd first been led down here.
The concrete blocks are the same as in the cell, but their door isn't the only one, further down, behind the hooded man - she butts her nose into Castle's bicep, hides the fact that she's staring the wrong way - there are more doors crisscrossing the sides of the passage. Unfortunately, the single, naked bulb only illuminates a yard or two at most, the black concealing how far the corridor runs for, what else is down there.
Who else is down there?
She squeezes Castle's fingers, but they're running out of passageway. The T section ahead and to the right leads back to where they'd first arrived and it has less than three feet left.
He meets her gaze, and she flickers her eyes toward her discovery.
"Where are you taking us?"
His voice is loud, booming and clearly unexpected, and the man startles behind them, the tip of the Uzi shoving into Castle's shoulder. She ignores them both though, straining to hear if there is any other sound.
"Shut up and walk."
"And if I don't? You need me alive don't you?"
Castle yells as the gun swings toward her, slamming hard into her stomach, and she doubles over, her hands pressing tight to where the pain flares.
But she'd swear on her badge that she heard a voice call out "Dad?" before they were shoved the rest of the way into the next corridor.
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Thank you Jo and Jamie for being such supportive betas, and to all those that help them with the pompoms xoxo