A/N: Thank you for every fav/follow/review! This was too long, so I cut it into two chapters. There'll be another chapter out late tomorrow.
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(It wasn't supposed to be like this.)
Castle shrugged on his jacket and picked up his keys off the kitchen counter. He looked back toward Beckett's bedroom in the pre-dawn darkness, a little light from the moon and the city coating the way in just enough powder blue to see through the black. He should leave her be, let her sleep while she can. But he wasn't supposed to be doing this alone, and a mild resentment at the universe settled in his chest. He was angry that she had to go through all of this, that they both did.
Wrapping his fingers around the keys to keep them from rattling, he quietly made his way back to the bedroom. Beckett was curled up tightly on her side of the bed, though she'd snuggled up to his pillow since he'd slipped out. Castle smiled at the sight, putting the negatives aside for as long as he could. He was here, in her bedroom, invited and welcome anytime. They were together. And he was free to lean over and brush a goodbye kiss that she wouldn't feel to her temple, so he did.
The plan had been for Beckett to be at the physical test. It was going to be fun, just a thing to do together, an obstacle course with a fun reward at the end. But now, as he sprinted through the serpentine patterns and lifted the heavy weights, there was only focus. Get it done, get back to Kate. When he finished well within the set time limit, with only a little bit of sweat beading above his eyebrows, the cops around gave him smiles and congratulations, one of the guys slapped his back after he signed off on the paperwork.
Castle couldn't muster the good energy to return the sentiments, so he only nodded and asked directions to the gun range. Beckett was supposed to be here, so he could complain about how she had over-prepared him, how those last few long runs were only to satisfy her hidden domineering side. She was supposed to be here so he could show off and feel proud, and so she could congratulate him in whatever way she wanted.
Castle sighed.
The shooting test was only a formality, he'd been a good shot before he ever started at the 12th; the latent perks of research. Instead of thinking of it as a test, Castle used the exercise to focus his mind and to let off some steam. As he watched the bullets tear into the center of the targets, he reminded himself that he would be able to protect her now. That, more than anything, helped to take the edge off. But still...
(There wasn't supposed to be a gnawing sensation in his gut.)
This whole thing had been a gift. Beckett had told him that it was partly about safety and making him a real part of the team, but she'd mostly just wanted to make his day. To see the way his eyes had widened with glee when he'd figured out what she'd done. It was never supposed to be this suffocating responsibility and weight. It had been a gesture of trust, and a gesture that showed how well she knew him. The weapon now holstered at his hip was meant to be a reward, but he could feel it dragging at his stride with every step.
Walking past the stone facade of the precinct, Castle checked his watch. It was later than he'd intended to get here. He felt strangely nervous as he unholstered the weapon and slid it into the bin at the metal detector. There was some confusion as the guards looked at his license as usually only cops were allowed to carry in the building, and then one of them looked up and stared him down shrewdly.
"Richard Castle? You're the writer that works with homicide, right? With Detective Beckett?"
"That's right."
The officer carefully handed Castle back his paperwork and weapon, then he crossed his arms. "The whole building knows what's been going on with her mother's case. We also know that you treat this whole precinct like a playground. It's not a game, Mr. Castle."
Castle met his gaze with heavy eyes and no mirth. "I'm aware, officer."
The officer stared him down for another second before relaxing his stance. "Good. They're going to need all the help they can get."
Castle nodded but said nothing more as he walked away. He knew that the boys had been planning a faux celebration party for the day he first got to carry his weapon. He'd caught Alexis ordering the banner two weeks ago. He also knew that there wouldn't be one, now. When he walked onto the floor, Ryan and Esposito waved him over. They both noticed his weapon, and they both ignored it but for the slightest of nods.
"Beckett?"
"In the box with Vulcan Simmons. He used to run the drug trade in Washington Heights, where Beckett's mother ran a Take-Back-The-Neighborhood program."
Castle nodded and headed in the direction of their vague gestures, his brow crinkled as he tried to make the connections. He probably should have headed toward the viewing room, but instead he went right into the interrogation room. He couldn't find it in himself to watch from the outside on this one.
It was a risk, walking in like that, but Beckett showed no sign of irritation as he took his seat next to her. She didn't even hesitate in her line of questioning, so Castle set his focus on the man across the table. Vulcan Simmons was a big, smartly dressed black man, the kind of guy who you might think had a kind face if he wasn't sneering the way he was. And after listening for a moment, Castle realized it was more than the sneer. The man was some kind of pseudo-psychology wielding ego-maniac, attempting to undermine Beckett by analyzing her attacks.
Castle bristled, and Simmons looked over at him with amusement before looking back at Beckett.
"He's sweet on you. Makes him brave."
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Montgomery watched through the one-way glass as Vulcan Simmons slowly got under Beckett's skin. He was unfortunately very well acquainted with both of the adversaries in this fight, and this was a showdown that could only end one way. When the glass shattered with the force of Becket slamming Simmons against it he didn't even twitch. He only sighed, glancing to the side as Ryan and Esposito ran out of the viewing room to stop the scene from getting any worse.
Roy took his time to follow, gathering his thoughts. This might not be such a bad thing after all. Here, finally, was the chance that he'd been looking for. So he stepped out of the room slowly, barely turning his head to give Beckett and Castle a disapproving look where they stood fuming in the bullpen.
"My office."
They followed with the speed of ill-spent energy, wired, buzzing, and Montgomery knew how they were going to take his next words.
"I have kick that son of a bitch loose now."
Beckett argued, but it was so easy. He was telling the truth, anyway. Simmons was playing her. She had made a mistake. And now he could do what he'd been trying to find a reason to do.
"You're off this case. Go home."
The look on her face would stay with him for hours. Anger and hurt and a kind of betrayal that was only a shadow of what it might one day be. It pulled strangely at his conscience see her like that, but it was the only way.
Beckett stormed out of Montgomery's office and grabbed her jacket without stopping, and Castle stood quickly.
"Beckett?" She didn't stop. "Kate!"
"Castle."
Castle glanced at Montgomery, surprised to see him blocking his way. He watched the elevator doors close in front of Beckett, the anxiety in his belly kicking up another notch.
"Sit down, Castle."
Montgomery closed the door behind him but didn't sit, instead leaning forward with his fingertips pressed into his desk while Castle clasped his hands on his lap.
"You qualified for your weapon." Montgomery's voice was low, dangerous. "Don't get yourself killed."
"No, sir."
"Don't get her killed." Castle started, eyebrows raising, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but Montgomery only held up a hand to silence him. "Simmons was right. The way you feel for her makes you brave. Don't let it get either of you killed. Now go after her, or go home. I don't need you playing Nancy Drew on this."
Castle hadn't yet left the bullpen when his phone rang. "Kate," he answered, his eyes closing in relief. She wasn't shutting him out completely. She was silent, and he couldn't help stating a small reprimand, turning away from the crowd of officers in the bullpen to whisper, "You can't just walk away anymore. I'm with you. I'm here, too."
"I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like that." There was the sound of tears in her voice, and Castle's eyes opened as got himself moving again. "I'm going home. Join me there?"
"Of course."
At her door, Castle hesitated, then knocked. When she swung the door open, he could see the redness around her eyes, but she still smiled when he lifted a bouquet of flowers toward her. Beckett accepted the flowers and stepped into the embrace he offered, tucking her head beneath his chin. "I wondered why you weren't right behind me."
"Flower stop," he murmured and hugged her tightly. Then he chuckled, "I also had to check in with my mother. She yelled at me."
Beckett pulled back and frowned at him. "What, why?"
Castle waved a hand dismissively. "Another time. How are you holding up?"
She shrugged with a wry grin, and led him farther into the room, listening as he spun a plan that Nancy Drew herself would be proud of to get back into the precinct and start working the case. But when the plan continued to grow in enthusiasm and hijinks, Beckett put a finger over his lips to quiet him. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him to a corner of the room, and drew open what Castle had assumed were decorative shutters and revealed a murder board of legal pad papers and note cards, with her mother's picture prominent in the middle.
Castle swallowed, and felt his stomach drop again. So much time, so much of her life, so much of her mind was laid here before them. It was haunting, and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her again. He had learned to read this particular set of her shoulders, so he simply stepped in beside her, and let her tell him what she knew.
(It wasn't supposed to be this hard.)
Castle was boiling some water on her stove for pasta when Beckett got a text from Ryan. She was off the case, sure, but they were still her team. It was just a quick update that the boys looking for Hal Lockwood in midtown. He watched as she set the phone down and rested her head in her hands. She looked exhausted, sitting back up to drag her hands through her hair and stare unseeing at the information they'd laid out on the coffee table.
Castle's head tilted in concern, a word of comfort building in his chest, but as he was about to speak there was a knock at the door. Beckett's sluggish response had Castle wiping his hands on a rag and shooing her back to the couch.
"I got it."
A quick look through the peephole showed the Captain's face, waiting impatiently. Castle opened the door in a hurry and waved him in. "Hey, Captain."
Montgomery shook his hand, then looked over at where Beckett was rising to her feet in the living room.
"Let me talk to her alone, Castle."
He nodded reluctantly and headed back to the kitchen, straining to listen as he continued going through the motions of making dinner. He only was able to catch snippets of the conversation.
"Ryan and Esposito... murder... guy's a professional..."
"...If this sniper is after me..."
None of this was helping the knot in Castle's stomach. There was a long string of words he couldn't decipher, and then they were standing and moving toward the door.
"You gotta let me have this, Roy. Let me come back and work on my mom's case."
"No." The word was unequivocal, and Montgomery made eye contact with Castle after he said it. No, Castle. Not you either.
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(It wasn't supposed to come between them, not even a little bit.)
"Castle, there's something I need you to do."
They'd finished the simple spaghetti dinner, plates and dishes piled unwashed in the sink where they'd be washed later. Castle and Beckett were sitting in near silence on the couch, lost in their own thoughts, an open bottle of wine on the coffee table.
"Name it."
"Go home." At his look, she continued, "Look, I signed up for this when I put that badge on, you didn't. It's not your fight."
"Are you kidding?"
"I'm serious. This is my fight, Castle."
The stubborn stupidity of the words caused his voice to want to rise. With an effort, he kept his voice low but it came out like a kind of growl, "We've been through this, Kate. I may not have a badge, but I'm armed, and I'm ready, and I'm here with you."
"And what about your family, Rick? You can't just throw yourself in the line of fire without thinking about them. Is that why your mother was yelling at you earlier?"
"Do you think I haven't thought about that? That the idea doesn't horrify me? That I don't know that Alexis is eighteen just like you were nineteen?"
Beckett's head snapped back like he'd slapped her, but when her mouth opened no words came out.
Castle stood abruptly, then sat back down with effort. He dragged both hands over his face and forced himself to look at her. "I'm sorry I said that. But I can't just walk away and leave you out there fighting while I wait to hear that you're okay. I'll be careful, Kate. I know what I have to be careful for. But you aren't getting rid of me."
"Okay." Cautiously, Beckett handed him his wine glass and tapped it with her own. "My plucky sidekick."
"I'm your partner."
Suppressing a reluctant smile, Beckett nodded, her shoulders relaxing. "Okay. Then you have to come with me to talk to Pulgotti tomorrow, see if he can shed some light on this whole thing."
"Well, okay, but I thought I requested every other day off when I signed up, you know, don't want to work too hard."
The joke wasn't very funny, and it was an effort to smile, but he got through it. Beckett eyeballed him sideways, and then thwacked him with a couch cushion. This time, Castle's grin was more genuine. "Alright, I'm going to clean up the kitchen."
"Oh," Beckett feigned shock with her fingers covering the 'o' of her mouth, "And he cleans, too? Damn I got lucky."
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The next day, Pulgotti told them that he thought Bobby Armin's killer was a cop, and Castle could feel the darkness descending again.
"There's nothing more dangerous than a killer with a badge, Detective."
Castle believed him, but he could see that Beckett was only getting drawn deeper in. They left the prison and went straight to the precinct, barely stopping long enough to drop off their jackets before going to Montgomery.
"Here's what we know," Beckett began, after Montgomery reamed her out for not following orders. "Nineteen years ago Raglan and at least two other cops were kidnapping mobsters for ransom."
Castle was listening to Beckett, but he was watching Montgomery. There was an unexplained tension in the man. He was sitting still, but his hands were twitching as he sat. His eyebrows were too fixed, his expression unmoved. His face seemed inexplicably sad.
The day was a downhill slide of momentum after that. They interviewed Macalister, they chased leads. When they found a woman dead and heard that Ryan and Esposito had been taken, it seemed to Castle like a fitting, terrible culmination of the rising tension.
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They needed a way past the guard, to get into the building where the boys were being held, and Castle suggested they pretend to be just passing by. Drunk, lost, lusty. He said the last word with a little lift of the eyebrow, but he wasn't really feeling the humor. Neither was Beckett, but she was feeling his plan.
"Best idea we've got," she shrugged, and opened her door.
As he hurried to catch her as she fell into her drunk-girl walk, Castle couldn't shake the sense that there was some kind of cosmic bad humor shining down on them today.
The boys were in danger, possibly dead, and he and Beckett were walking through an alley, wrapped around each other, pretending to be drunk. Pretending to have the kind of good time that all of this damn conspiracy drama had prevented them from experiencing for themselves. It was hilarious, wasn't it? Here they were, kissing in an alley (really kissing, too, that was her tongue) with a giant thug looming over their shoulder, and Beckett was looking out of the corner of her eye to watch the guy, distracted. Just a tiny allegory of their life as a couple thus far, and Castle could laugh with humorless irony if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied.
They guy was creeping closer, and Castle couldn't tell if it was suspicion or dirty interest on the guy's face, but he was close. Too close, and Castle's hand started creeping toward his weapon. But before he could to anything, Beckett was spinning away from him and took the guy down with one clean hit. Castle's mouth dropped open in astonishment.
"That was amazing, the way you knocked him out," Castle breathed, wiping some of the moisture off of his face. Beckett tilted her head at him in question. Oh! "I mean, the kiss, too, that was amazing. Everything you do is amazing."
Beckett allowed herself a little grin at his expression, then she turned back to the building. "You ready?"
"Yeah, ready. Let's go."
Beckett started toward the door, then stopped and turned around to look at Castle. "Draw your weapon," she instructed.
Sheepishly, he did as he was told. "Sorry, of course I-"
"It's okay," she interrupted, her voice calm and kind to soften the blow of her exasperation. "Safety off. You feel okay to do this?"
"Yeah, I'm just..." Scared. He was scared, and how in the world was he going to be of any help at all if he was terrified before they'd even gotten inside?
But Beckett put a hand on his chest, calming. "It's okay to be scared. Just don't shoot unless you're sure, okay? We've got this."
Finally, she opened the door and entered the building, Castle right on her heels.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think.