A/N: Hello all, I hope you've had a nice month so far. Things have been crazy busy around here for me. Here is the latest installment; I hope you enjoy! Title song credit goes to Jason Mraz.

-{ Chapter 6: I Won't Give Up }-

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

June 6th, 2012

For once, Beckett found herself awake before Castle, his slumbering form rolled into his pillow and an arm dangling off the side of the bed. She eased herself out from under the covers and slipped into a robe before tip-toeing her way from the room. The loft was empty and daunting in its silence. The light outside suggested 9:00 a.m., but the clock on the wall informed her it was only 7:50. Alexis and Martha would still be asleep.

She slid herself into the corner of the couch where Castle normally sat, the worn indent engulfing her slender frame as she sank back into the cushion. There was a window open somewhere, probably the kitchen, and the faint hum of traffic from below was a soothing background constant, just barely audible.

The reporters would not be as active as yesterday. With time they would drift off and find other, more current stories to pursue. Until the trial, when they would return with a renewed vengeance. The trial that was only ten days away. She bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Every morning there was a rush in her head, a pulsing beat that reminded her of her situation. She was still walking, still breathing, but she was living out the last of her days and she knew it.

Castle was right about running away. It was the only way she was going to survive. But she couldn't let him do it; she couldn't let him throw away any more of his life for her. He had already given up his career, but if she wasn't there he could reclaim it. It wouldn't be hard, either. The world would gladly clamor for the story of her fall from grace after she was locked up behind bars. After she was dead.

Her father was dropping by later today, now that the media storm had died down, and they were planning to go out for dinner with Castle. He had wanted to come by sooner to support her but she had talked him out of it, insisting that he was better off if he stayed out of the public eye. They had talked on the phone last night and she had given him minimal details, avoiding anything that would alarm him. She said nothing about her concerns or about Castle's idea to escape. He was the only one she lied to, the only one she told that it would all be okay. She knew it wasn't, and she knew there was no escaping this conviction, but she just couldn't tell him the truth.

What if she did run away? What if she took Castle's advice and took off? She could hardly take him with her and let him leave his family behind. But could she pull it off alone? She had the ankle monitor, for one, and if she was going to get away she would need to cut it off before fleeing. That gave her a limited time window and no resources. Castle couldn't help her, either, or he would be charged as an accomplice. She couldn't let that happen either.

There was no solution.

Beckett remembered the night she had spent in prison. The orange fabric, the solitary cell that served as her protective custody. No one has said a word to her, and she had almost been grateful for the isolation. If and when she returned, though, she knew better than to hope that would be a permanent situation.

She turned the television on and lowered the volume to a soft murmur. A morning crew was talking to an expert about summer health. The counter in front of them was lined with several bottles of suntan lotion. Beckett shook her head, trying to remember when something as simple and mundane as that would have fit into her life. It seemed like forever ago, when really it had only been last week.

Castle stepped into the room, the creaking of a floorboard alerting her to his presence. She spun her head and found him by the hallway threshold in his blue robe, her phone held up to his ear.

"Yeah, of course. I'll let her know. Thanks."

"Who was that?" she asked, when he had hung up. He came around the side of the couch and settled into the spot beside her, handing over the phone.

"Esposito. He's got something he wants to share. Him and Ryan are on their way over."

"Did he say what it was?" she demanded, sitting up straighter. She couldn't deny the small surge of hope that had just flickered to life inside her.

Castle shook his head. "No, but he said it was important. They told Gates they were following up a lead on another case to buy themselves a few hours with us."

She nodded slowly, silently quelling her fresh excitement. This could be nothing. There was every chance that nothing could save her, even her team.

On the television, they had switched feeds to a live press conference with a senator.

"I don't like this guy," Castle muttered.

"Of course running for president is something I've considered, but my party holds to our core values and my time is not right now. Right now, I am needed here, in our marvelous state of New York."

There was general applause on screen, and Beckett shrugged. "He's a typical politician."

The senator reached a hand up to his ear piece, and seemed distracted when the next question was called to him. Beckett picked up the remote and changed the station.

"How's Alexis's packing going?" she asked as a grey-haired weatherman on the screen gestured to a storm front heading towards New Jersey.

Castle sighed. "Slow. She's been spending so much time up in her room and I don't think she has more than her winter clothing packed at this point. Not that I want her to go."

"She has to," Beckett reminded him gently. "Besides, she still has a good portion of the summer left. There's time. And it would probably be good for her to get away from all of this."

An unwelcome image flashed through her mind, of Castle alone in the loft once Alexis was at school and she was in prison. She pushed it away, a shiver creeping down her spine. She didn't want to think about it, no matter how accurate it might be.

There was a knock on the door, and Castle leapt to his feet. Esposito stepped through the door the moment it was opened, and Ryan followed close on his heels. Beckett stood and accepted both of their embraces in turn.

"How are you holding up?" Esposito murmured.

She shrugged. "What have you found?"

"Got your laptop?" the detective asked, turning on Castle.

"Of course." He went to snag it from his office and Beckett glanced inquisitively between her two friends, waiting for an explanation.

"It's a video," Ryan explained. "The prosecution is using the scratches on your arm as evidence. They just got the results from the lab. Your DNA was found under Tam's fingernails."

"That sounds like bad news," Castle said, rejoining the group. He set his laptop down on the coffee table and Esposito dropped down onto the couch in front of it, plugging in a flash drive.

"It would be, but we found surveillance from outside your building. Beckett, remember you said you got scratched on the sidewalk by someone passing by? Well whoever that was clearly did it to create that negative evidence against you. No way that was a coincidence."

"Wait, can you see who it is?" Beckett demanded. She claimed the seat to Esposito's left and hunched in front of the screen. He loaded the video and hit play. The sidewalk in front of Castle's building appeared on the screen.

"This is from a surveillance camera on the building across the street," Ryan explained.

Beckett watched herself appear on the screen, and waited for the inevitable bump. It had been just before she started up the steps into the building… and there it was. On screen, she jostled to the side and then glanced down at her arm and grabbed it before looking over her shoulder.

"Go back," she said quietly. She needed to focus on the person that had bumped into her. They were in a black sweatshirt with the hood up, but she needed to see it again. She needed there to be something that gave away their identity.

Esposito brought the image back to the start, and Ryan leaned over from the other side and pointed to the side of the footage. "This is where he appears…" The black-hooded figure came into view just as Beckett appeared from the other side of the screen.

"It is definitely a man," Castle agreed with a nod. He was taller than Beckett and thickly built. When he bumped into her she had to catch herself from falling over. Esposito slowed down the footage so they could see him reach out for her arm.

"He cut me with just his nails," Beckett said, pulling up her sleeve to get another look at the cuts. "They must have been long."

"Weird for a guy," Castle agreed. "But this video… it proves that someone is trying to frame her, right?"

"It's not going to get them to drop any charges," Ryan warned. "But it certainly opens up some doubts for the jury."

"For one, how did your DNA get under Tam's nails if this is proof of where those cuts came from?" Esposito pointed out.

"Is there a better angle on this guy?" Beckett asked distractedly. She was still focused on the screen. The other's turned their attention back to her.

"We've been trying to narrow down a frame that shows his face, but it's no good," Esposito explained regretfully. "He keeps his head down the whole time and we get just a glimpse of the tip of his nose when he bumps into you. That's it. We need more."

"What about Tam?" Castle suggested. The others turned to him questioningly. "She was writing all these stories about Beckett; where did she get that information? Maybe from the same person that told her whatever it was about Beckett's mother's murder?"

"You're saying maybe Beckett was a convenient person to frame? The intention was Tam's murder?" Ryan suggested in astonishment. Castle nodded.

Esposito frowned, but he was nodding slowly.

Beckett was just glad that they were moving forward. She felt helpless when there was no avenue to travel down with this investigation.

"So we need to find who Tam was getting her information from," she reasoned. "And then maybe they can help us find out who killed her."

"And it's probably a cop," Esposito added darkly. "No way someone outside knows that much about our cases."

"So it's someone in our precinct?" Ryan asked anxiously, glancing at each of them in turn.

It was a heavy question. Beckett thought of the precinct, and the familiar faces of her coworkers. It was hard to imagine that any of them would murder a reporter and frame her for the crime. She had never known any of them to have a grudge against her.

"Is there anyone you can think of that rubbed you the wrong way?" Castle asked her. When she shook her head he turned to Esposito and Ryan. "Have you ever heard anyone say anything about Beckett behind her back? Jealousy or otherwise?"

"Nothing stands out… there's been a lot of anger towards Gates lately, after what happened," Ryan explained. "But no one has ever had anything negative to say about Beckett. And I'm not just saying that because you're here," he added, turning to her and offering a smile.

"Might not even be our precinct," Esposito cut in. "There's always the chance somebody heard stories down the grapevine. We'll check out some of the local haunts, see what we can stir up." He got to his feet, and Ryan followed more slowly behind. "Stay safe and keep in touch," he intoned seriously, and then the pair of detectives let themselves out.

Beckett leaned back into the couch with a sigh.

"They seem to be getting along better, at least," Castle said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She nodded. The improvement in her friends' attitudes towards each other was a definite positive in the long list of negatives that had become her life.

"Should we go out for breakfast, or settle for some eggs?"

"I wouldn't mind just an omelet."

He got up to head to the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. They looked at each other in confusion, and then he changed direction and headed for the door.

Detectives Kaplan and Rosewood stood on the other side.

"Good morning, Castle," Rosewood said stiffly. "We've got a warrant."

~AxCxAxCxAxC~

Alexis had been awake since seven, sitting in the glow of her computer screen while the sun slowly rose outside her window. She had heard the door open and voices downstairs, but she hadn't bothered to move. She recognized them as the detectives from Beckett's old precinct and assumed they were here to work on the case that her father had expressly told her he didn't want her involved with.

He didn't understand, though, and neither did her friends.

Jason, though, seemed to get what she was talking about.

She heard the conversation cut off downstairs and the door shut, and she glanced at her clock. It was just past 8:30. Her computer beeped with a new message and she refocused her attention.

You still there? he had typed.

Of course.

There was a pause while she waited for his response. Her dad would be furious if he only knew what she was doing with her spare time these days, but she didn't care. He was trying too hard to shelter her. She understood why, of course, and she had no doubt that someday, if she had children, she would behave just the same. But right now, she was expressing what little rebellion she possessed in her.

Jason Deacon had contacted her. He had gone to her high school, something she had confirmed through various internet checks, and was now a student at Columbia, where she would be attending classes in the fall. He was very upfront with his reasoning, explaining to her that he had gone through much the same situation as her and wanted to offer some support that he had not received himself.

His father had not been innocent like he assured her he believed Beckett to be. He was studying criminal psychology in the hopes of joining the FBI, and from his profile picture (which she had matched with the yearbook) he was quite a charming young man. But his past was far from cheerful. She remembered the case from the papers, about the serial killer that haunted Manhattan for several months. She had only been in middle school at the time, but Jason had been a freshman in high school. When his father had been caught, he said he hadn't even been that surprised.

He was the first person to genuinely understand when she talked about how she felt with the media storm and the accusations and assumptions from everyone she knew. He had faced the same wave of unwelcome fame. Reporters wanted to talk to him and hear his side, and when he refused they placed him in a negative light through all of their articles. For the past few nights, they had talked late and shared stories. Last night they had video-chatted and she had confirmed that he was indeed the boy she remembered from high school.

Then this morning she had gotten up early, with new resolve, to take a fresh look at the files she had copied from her father's hard-drive. She had pushed her way through crime scene photos from Johanna Beckett's murder before, but now she focused more intently on the words in the accompanying reports. There was a lot to get through, and Jason had just gotten back from an eight AM class and was therefore awake to keep her company.

Have you made any progress? Crime reports can be tough going with the way they write them. I've read my fair share and the intention is always comprehension by other cops and lawyers, not regular people like us.

I'm working through, she typed back, It's slow going, but so far it makes sense. The hard part is where everyone else is at. Trying to figure out something new from the data.

It took him a moment to respond.

Well it sounds like what they need is a fresh pair of eyes, and you are exactly that. Your dad found the first bit of info that got the case back up and running, and he wasn't a cop either.

He was right. Downstairs, she heard a knock on the door and she frowned. Someone else was here? This early in the morning?

She stepped away from the computer and headed out onto the balcony. Two men were just stepping through the door, and her dad was reading from a long sheet of paper. Several uniformed cops came through in their wake, and she spun and dashed back into her room at once.

Gotta go, she typed quickly, and then shut down her laptop and gathered together the files that she had spread across her desk. Bundling them into one stack, she climbed onto her chair and unhooked the air vent, slipping the whole thing inside. It was a handy trick she'd learned from a television show years ago. She snapped the vent back in place and twisted the screws before returning to the balcony.

"What's going on?" she called. Her father glanced up in surprise, and Beckett as well. The cops were sweeping through the apartment, rifling through cabinets. They had already collected the files he'd had out on the table, and one of the detectives was sitting in front of his laptop.

"Search warrant," he explained wearily.

"This one is for your house in the Hamptons. We have officers there, now," the detective standing by the chair announced, handing over a second piece of paperwork. Castle reluctantly accepted it and roved his eyes down the list. Beckett moved to his side to read it as well. She hovered for a second at the top of the stairs in her pajama pants and baggy Columbia t-shirt, and then hurried down to join them.

Two officers headed past her and up the stairs, and she stared after them for a moment.

"Sorry, sweetie," her dad apologized regretfully. "It's not like they're going to find anything here, though."

"That's where you're wrong," the detective in front of the computer announced. "You have copies of official police files for ongoing investigations, and the last time I checked… neither of you were police officers. And we passed two of your former colleagues on our way into the building; your precinct apparently needs further reminding about interfering with our cases."

"We'll be confiscating all of this material," the other one added firmly, tapping a pen against the palm of his hand. "Are there any copies we should know about?"

Her dad shook his head, putting an arm around Beckett's shoulders to pull her into his side.

Alexis thought of her copies upstairs, and the data she had stored in her computer, and said nothing. The two detectives who had gone upstairs returned empty-handed, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief that they had not searched extensively in her room. And why would they? She wasn't the target, here.

One of the detectives pulled out his phone and put it to his ear.

"Got anything?" He nodded to himself as the person on the other line responded. "You just made my day." He hung up and turned to Castle and Beckett. "We just found the murder weapon at your house in the Hamptons, Mr. Castle. What do you have to say about that?"

"What?" he demanded as the other detective moved around him and snapped out his handcuffs.

"Richard Castle, you are under arrest as an accessory to murder and obstructing an official police investigation."

"Dad?" Alexis gasped, staring at him.

"I'll be back soon," he promised as they looped the handcuffs over his wrists. "I love you. And I love you, too," he added, turning to Beckett with a desperation glinting in his eyes. Her hand was grasping his, not wanting to let go.

"I love you," she whispered, "I'll be down at the precinct as soon as I can…"

They took him out of the loft, and Alexis stared after the closed door with her mouth hanging open. They were alone, all of a sudden. The coffee table was cleared. The laptop and her father's office hard-drive were gone.

"Can they really do this?" she asked disbelievingly.

Martha appeared by the balcony. "For heaven's sake, what happened in here?"

~BxCxBxCxBxC~

"Martha, how did you sleep through that?" Beckett asked in astonishment.

"Through the invasion of privacy, you mean?" Martha huffed, clutching her robe more firmly around herself as she descended the stairs. "Now, where is Richard and why did a troop of police officers just wander through my bedroom?"

Alexis threw herself into her grandmother's arms the moment she reached the bottom of the staircase. "They arrested him," she said, her voice muffled against Martha's shoulder.

"They did what?" Martha demanded, glancing up from Alexis to stare at Beckett in open alarm.

She nodded just a fraction, hardly wanting to acknowledge the truth of the situation. "They just took him out. They're… they're charging him with 'helping' me."

"Well then why don't they just arrest the lot of us!" Martha cried, throwing her arms up as Alexis released her embrace. The older woman must have seen a shift in Beckett's expression, because she stepped forward and wrapped her arms crushingly around her. "Oh, Kate, dear, it's going to be okay."

"I know, Martha," she sputtered, but the other woman had already seen through her façade.

"Well come along, then, let's look alive and get moving. Can't leave Richard down at that dreadful station all by himself. Should probably call up his lawyer…"

"I've got it," Beckett assured, and Martha nodded before sweeping back up the stairs to make herself presentable. Alexis shuffled along quickly in her shadow, and Beckett sighed and dialed the far-too-familiar number in her contact list.

"Ross," chirped the response after only a single ring.

Beckett took a breath. "Ms. Ross, It's Kate Beckett. I've got a situation."

~CxBxCxBxCxB~

"I do hope you haven't said anything I'm going to regret," Karina Ross muttered as she settled into the chair to Castle's right.

"Not a word," Castle assured her. "…How's Kate?"

"She's out waiting for you with your mother and your daughter," Ross assured him. "I'm getting déjà vu, and as much as I appreciate your business, this isn't looking so good on you." She flipped open the folder she had brought in with her. "This tells me you were investigating a sealed file, which you had unauthorized copies for. Richard, wasn't this the first thing you got yourself arrested for? Has four years taught you nothing?"

"Actually the first time I got arrested was that, uh… thing with the horse and the nudity…"

"Yes, the police horse," she snapped disapprovingly. "Most people who get arrested are looking to avoid it. You seem to almost enjoy it, at this point…"

"I'm hoping this will be the last time," he promised. "How soon can I get out of here?"

"Well, they have no evidence that you were involved in the murder. The gun was a match for ballistics, though, and it was found at your beach house. Now, I know that someone is trying to frame Kate, but I also know that the two of you visited the Hamptons this past weekend, just after the murder. The prosecution knows it, too. Richard, you are not the target of this investigation. Kate is. And they're about to bury her."

He bowed his head. "They took all of the evidence; everything I could have used to exonerate her. I don't have anything else."

Ross frowned. "You're telling me you don't have back-ups?"

He shook his head. "They got all of it; took my hard-drives and everything."

The lawyer leaned forward. "How did they know where to find that, Richard? I've heard some whispers…" she glanced towards the two-way mirror, and then shook her head. "Foolish rumors, really. Just be more careful. They'll nail you to the wall with Kate if they can."

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Detective Kaplan stood on the threshold.

"Mr. Castle, you'll be expected to attend a hearing in two days to face charges for your possession of those files. The murder accessory charge will be dealt with after Beckett's trial. Now, we need this room."

He got to his feet without complaint, walking out of the room with Ross close behind.

"Dad!" Alexis cried, practically tackling him. He laughed and clutched his arms around her, looking at Beckett over the top of his daughter's flame red hair.

"Are you okay?" he asked her as she stepped forward.

She nodded hesitantly.

"Oh, Richard," his mother sighed, hand pressed flat over her heart. "I do wish you'd stop getting yourself arrested."

"I'll try," he promised with a half-hearted smile. After Beckett is safe. "Come on, let's go."

Once they were safely in the car, Beckett filled him in on what had been going on elsewhere. Ryan and Esposito were being interrogated by Internal Affairs, and were both facing suspension for their interference with the investigation. The surveillance video they had obtained had been handed over to the defense as required by law, though, so at least it was not all a loss.

Castle kept quiet about what Ross had told him until they were back at the loft.

"Alright, I've gotta do something once we're inside. Nobody say anything about it, okay?"

"What?" the three women asked at once, confusion written across their crinkled brows.

"Just… no one say a word, okay?"

Hesitantly they each nodded. Once they were inside, the three of them grouped by the door, watching as he dashed to his study. He dug through his cabinets, which were in disarray after the intrusive search from that morning, until he found the device he was looking for. He had gotten it for himself after writing the second to last Derrick Storm novel. Mostly, it had been just for fun; he had always loved gadgets, no matter how pointless they might be. But today it seemed he might have use for it at last.

He returned the main sitting room, and watched Beckett's eyes widen with understanding while Alexis and his mother frowned and tried to get a better look at what it was he was holding. Beckett swiftly crossed the room to his oversized whiteboard and snapped open a marker.

You really think so? she wrote in her trademark block letters. He nodded back, and then fiddled with the gadget until the screen lit up. She came over to join him and, having obviously used one of these before, took control. By now, Alexis and Martha seemed to have reached an understanding of what was going on. They stood off to the side, out of the way, and wore matching expressions of concern.

Castle made his way around the room, waving the device over lamps and curtain rods with Beckett tagging along and watching the screen over his shoulder. It was picking up something, but he couldn't seem to get closer to it. He would slow down his movement and it would sense the same amount of interference on the line. It was picking up bugs everywhere, and he frowned in frustration. Was it broken?

Beckett took it from him and the screen changed, spiking upwards. They lowered their focus, searching along the lower portions of the walls near the plugs and the bottoms of end tables, until they were scanning the floor in a seemingly pointless search. The lower they got, the higher the readings went, until they were crouched on hands and knees and the readings dropped again.

Castle motioned to ask for the device back, scowling in frustration, and she handed it over as she continued patting down the carpet pointlessly, her brow crinkled. It was when she turned away from him that a dreadful thought crept into his mind. He reached the device over and swept it across her ankle. The screen lit up brighter than ever.

"Beckett," he breathed out.

She turned back and he turned the device towards her, still positioned over her ankle.

They had found their bug.

~RxExRxExRxE~

Jenny was going to have a heart attack when she found out, Ryan thought uncomfortably as he watched Officer Franklin toss his and Esposito's guns and badges into a cardboard box. The clang of Gates' badge on top, though, made him close his eyes for just a beat of a second, an uncomfortable sensation creeping down his spine.

The Captain was standing icily to the side while Ryan and Esposito faced their inquisition head on, but she had not been left out. There were three suspensions from the 12th precinct today, and Officer Franklin's face was so impassive that it was impossible to tell if he was glad to be rid of them or just disappointed. Maybe he truly didn't feel anything at all.

Ryan felt it, though, the weight of failure sagging on his shoulders. Still, it was a more proud place to be than where he had stood last time, watching through the glass as the guilt twisted knots in his stomach. Last time, he had done what he had thought to be right. Maybe Esposito had not forgiven him for his decision, but Beckett had. Given the choice, he would do just the same even without knowing the outcome. And this time, he felt just the same. He had made the right decision, no matter how it had turned out. Beckett needed him, and he wasn't going to stand back and follow the rules if that meant losing her.

It seemed like either way their plans were doomed, though. All of the evidence they'd been working off of had been confiscated. Everything Castle had at his apartment was gone from today's search, and all of Beckett's had been taken during the original police search of her apartment. They had nothing, especially now that both he and Esposito had been suspended and would no longer have access to the case files in storage.

One by one they filed out of the office, with Gates at the rear. Franklin settled into her desk, adjusting his tie.

"You two," Gates demanded the moment the door was shut behind them. "Come with me. Now."

Ryan shot Esposito an alarmed glance, which was returned, for once.

Gates' heals clicked menacingly with every forceful step she took, and the pair of detectives had to hurry along in her wake to keep up. She ushered them into the break room and glared at Velasquez until she collected her lunch and rushed out.

"Captain, we didn't mean to—"

"Shut. Up," she cut him off. He pressed his lips together in a thin line and ducked his head. "Both of you are going to listen very carefully. You have just possibly lost me my job. My job that I happened to love very dearly. You will tell me where you are going when you walk out of this station, and you had damn well better be honest with me."

Ryan swallowed, cutting his eyes at Esposito and leaving him to take the initiative on this one.

"We're going to Castle's loft to work with him and Beckett," Esposito sighed tiredly.

"Good. I'm coming along."

Before Ryan could formulate the huh? that was jumping up and down on the tip of his tongue, his phone buzzed in time with Esposito's.

There's a bug in Beckett's ankle monitor.

Apparently, it was possible for things to get even worse.