A/N: Another short update. Thank you to those of you who've expressed concern for my accident; a truck t-boned my car but I'm fine, physically, so I'll be sporadically replying to messages from now until the next chapter goes up (not sure when that'll be though). Also, just a giant thanks to you all for sticking with me thus far. I know it's a little frustrating how I've been developing the plot but I need to take this at my own pace. Hopefully, it'll all be worth it for you in the end. :)

Chapter 19

"Alexis, honey, are you ok?" Alex half screamed in the direction of his daughter. They were no more than a yard apart but with the number of paparazzi around them, they could hardly hear themselves let alone the person right across from them.

"Yeah, dad. I'm fine. Can we just—I want to go home."

"Yes, pumpkin. Of course."

There was nothing Alex wanted to do more than to wrap his arms around his daughter and shield her from this unrelenting onslaught of cameras, microphones, and bodies. All around him, literally, there was some reporter pushing his way forward and into him. Even his bodyguards were next to useless. At least when he had called for guards after his questioning at the precinct, a few were able to arrive at his loft way before he did and keep the reporters at bay. But here? No, all they could do was try to maintain a small bubble around him and his daughter as they made their slow progress back to their car.

Apparently, the reporters had already staked out his daughter's school before the day even began. And when he didn't show up to drop Alexis off—she was old enough to go to school on her own—they made enough ruckus to ensure he'd have to come and pick her up lest they disrupt all the other students in the school. How could he have been so naïve to think they would only target him and not his whole family?

"Mr. Rodgers! Why all the secrecy?"

"Richard Castle! Tell me more about your Derrick Storm novels!"

"Look this way! Turn for my camera, will you?"

It was an endless assault. Flashes here, pushes there; questions everywhere. And the worst part was, he had no idea if they were any closer to the salvation of their car. Since he first left it, he had lowered his head to avoid the cameras. Now, he wished he had thought ahead to count his steps or something. Just a peek; it can't hurt. He needed to know; how much longer does he have to put up with this insanity?

Apparently, ignorance really is bliss though. The moment Alex raised his head to gauge his distance from the car all hell broke loose. If he thought the disorientation to his location or the claustrophobic amount of reporters screaming in his ears were bad, it was nothing compared to the exorbitant amount of camera flashes blinding his vision when he presented them with the opportunity for a clear mug shot.

Spots. White spots. That's all he saw every time he blinked and continued to see even after he heard the car door open and his bodyguard, presumably, shoved him in. He felt more than saw his daughter slide in next to him, still a little shell-shocked from the ordeal. It took them both a moment, him letting the dim lighting readjust his vision and his daughter processing what had just transpired, before one of them finally spoke.

"What the fuck was that?"

The precinct fell deathly silent. The logical part of Kate's brain knew that was impossible—they had belligerent suspects and hostile arrestees cycling through their bullpen every hour and minute—but Kate didn't hear a single sound. She doesn't know if the world stopped for her, or if she was the only one in this odd state of unhearing, but all she could concentrate on was the television screen before her.

Alex was standing there, surrounded by reporters and bodyguards, trying to fight his way through to his daughter. As if the cameraman knew what she needed to see next, his focus moved from Alex to his daughter, who could not have been more than a few yards from her father. But the looks both parent and child wore were of such paralyzing anguish, one would think the length of the Grand Canyon separated them.

Their bodyguards were doing a decent job of holding back the reporters with microphones, but this cameraman, whoever he was, did an even better job of capturing the action despite the bodyguards in the way. When Alex finally made it to his daughter, Kate could see that the girl immediately latched onto her father and held on for what must have been dear life as they made the short yet slow journey back to their car. Alexis was safely tucked into her father's side, but that did not seem to calm the girl down any more than before when countless bodies separated them. Considering how steadily the cameraman was able to focus in on the pair, Kate could tell that the mild shaking exhibited on screen was not due to the film but rather the girl.

With a quarter of the distance left till they reached their car, Alex looked up, almost directly into the lens of the camera. For a fleeting moment, it was as if Alex had looked straight through the camera lens, through the television set, and straight at her. Deep, terrified, confused blue eyes staring piercingly at her.

Kate was immobile. She couldn't move. She couldn't think. The segment ended quickly after that—it probably wasn't that long to begin with—but for Kate, it was still continuing. In her mind's eye, the screen had freeze-framed on Alex's frightened face and Alexis's small body cowering next to her father.

"I'm sorry, Detective. You were saying?"

Someone was speaking somewhere and she thought that they were addressing her. A small part of her vaguely remembered her captain stopping by her desk to talk to her about her case, but at this very moment, that felt like a lifetime ago. At this very moment, she could care less.

She wasn't sure what she said to her captain, if anything at all, but the next thing she noticed herself doing was collecting her items and dialing a number on her phone as she headed towards the elevators.

What have I done?

"I think I've fucked up."