Nightfall

SEVEN

FRIDAY – 3:33 PM

Almost there. The next right should get them onto Broome Street, and then it was just an easy matter of driving up to the corner where Broome intersected with Crosby. Beckett gripped the steering wheel, revving down Lafayette Street, blowing past Lt. Petrosino Square.

After she'd successfully hotwired the car—a skill she'd picked up during her reckless youth—Castle had requested they make a quick stop at his SoHo loft. He was worried about his mother. And with the cellular network now down, he didn't have any way of confirming her status in the evacuation. Seeing the concern itched along the lines of his rugged features, Beckett had wished she could soothe away the worry lines wrinkling his brow with her hand, but she had resisted. Instead, she punched down the on accelerator and raced down the streets, weaving this way and that according to the various obstructions that popped up in their way.

Skidding onto Broome Street, Beckett gritted her teeth, turning hard on the wheel to veer around an overturned city bus, and narrowly missed ramming headlong into a military hummer that was smeared with the blood and remains of soldiers. Castle gripped the console as Beckett hastily maneuvered them around the chaos. The car dropped down into a small crater indented into the asphalt, probably a footprint from the creature, and bounced back up just as fast, causing Castle to bump his head against the roof of the car.

Curling her fingers around the steering wheel, Beckett quickly regain control of the vehicle, before they could flip and end up like the city bus.

"Jesus!" Castle hissed, rubbing his head as he stared out the window, his eyes wide with shock at the street where he lived. The building on right side of the street, across of his own, where smashed and twisted, water spurting out from busted pipes. "It looks like a warzone."

"The whole city has turned into a warzone," Beckett replied.

Castle only inclined his head in silent agreement, letting out a deep sigh as he squinted out the window at the particles of debris that still fluttered down from the ravaged remains of the building across the street.

Beckett pursed her lips, following his gaze as she slowed their progress to a crawl, turning the car around an upturned tank and rolling up onto the curb just at the corner of Broome and Crosby, right in front of Castle's building.

"We're here," she stated, inanely into the void, needing to break the silence.

As if operating on instinct alone, Castle unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. After shutting off the engines by disconnecting the exposed wires under the steering wheel, Beckett hurriedly followed him. She didn't bother to shut the car door as she walked at a quick clip to join him at the front doors of his building.

Beckett narrowed her eyes, observing the tension in Castle's shoulders as they entered the lobby. Out of habit, he approached the elevator, but stopped himself just before he pressed the call button. Shaking his head, he glanced back at Beckett with an almost self-deprecating smile.

"As if the elevators would be working now," he nearly chuckled, but then grew serious just as fast. Jaw set, brow flat, Castle indicated the stairwell.

Beckett nodded, and moved to follow him, but paused for just a moment, absently reaching down to check the Glock still holstered to her hip. Flicking her thumb over the clasp, she unsnapped the strap to ensure a quick and easy release in case she needed to draw her weapon. Castle had stopped by the door, his brow raised when he noticed her action.

"Just a precaution," she stated flatly. Beckett wasn't expecting anything, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"If you say so," Castle replied, a little uneasily, and then pushed on the door, holding it open for her to precede him through it.

Gripping the handrail, Castle stormed up the stairs, feet pounding as he took two steps at a time. Beckett kept pace just fine, her long legs and lean frame making it easy for her to match his hasty stride. It didn't take them that long to climb up to the top floor. Castle would have burst through the front door if she hadn't tugged him back by the arm. They locked eyes, and he sighed, nodding, understanding the warning look she flashed him. Again, she wasn't expecting anything, but if there was one thing she'd learned on the job, it was to expect the unexpected. And if this day wasn't exactly that, then she didn't know what was.

Placing a hand on the hilt of her weapon, ready to withdraw it if need be, Beckett glanced at Castle one last time, before shoving through the door and out into the corridor. It was empty, as she'd been expecting, but the door to Castle's loft was ajar. A soft gasp escaped from her partner at the sight. She could feel the panic ripple off him. Her own stomach clenched with concern for the aging actress.

Castle would have rushed forward if Beckett hadn't blocked him. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off with a stern look. Withdrawing her weapon, she held it up, adjusted her shoulders and approached the ajar door with caution.

"NYPD!" she announced, readying to kick the door fully open.

"Katherine? Is that you?" came the startled voice of Martha Rodgers.

"Mother!" Castle exclaimed, pushing past Beckett and crashing through the door, surging into the loft.

Beckett relaxed her posture and followed him inside, feeling the tension in her chest ease at the sight of her partner desperately hugging his mother. Holstering her weapon, she glanced around the loft with cop eyes. Everything looked to be in their proper place. She saw no signs of any disturbances or attempted break-ins. The dining room table had been made up, a tea set sitting in the middle, with a platter of little sandwiches and cookies. Her stomach rumbled and Beckett realized that she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and even then, all she'd had was a bagel and coffee.

"What are you still doing here?" Castle demanded when he was done embracing his mother. "You should have been evacuated by now!"

Martha waved off his question in her standard fashion. "Oh, darling, I would have, but Holly here twisted her ankle trying to go down those awful stairs."

"Holly?" Castle hooted, alarmed.

"Yes," Martha affirmed in a rather theatrical manner. "Holly Hillybrock. You remember her don't you, darling, you used to call her Auntie Hilly when you were four."

Twisting about, Castle let out a yelp when he finally spotted the petite elderly woman with gray-blue hair reclining on the sofa. She was wearing a colorful, eye searing dress that could easily rival one of his mother's many outlandish outfits.

"Hello, dearie," Holly waved, smiling up at him with an apologetic expression. "Sorry to be a bother."

Beckett blinked, swallowing a bit of the small sandwich—turkey and swiss, with Dijon mustard—she'd been nibbling on. She stepped away from the dining room table to join her partner by the sofa, finally seeing the other woman. It was then that Martha noticed her. Martha beamed, waving her closer. Brow furrowing, Beckett hesitantly complied, and was soon scooped up in a motherly embrace that left her a bit dizzy and startled.

"Katherine, darling, so nice of you to come and check in on us old ladies," she declared theatrically as she stepped away from her whirlwind hug, trailing her hand down Kate's arm, squeezing in an affectionate manner.

"Mother," Castle snapped, clearly irritated. "Why didn't you just ask for help?"

"I did," Martha said. "But everyone was in a panic, and those young boys seemed so overwhelmed, and then they were being called away and… well, it got a bit chaotic when that beastie showed up, and we sort of got forgotten in the mix." The actress gestured dramatically towards the windows and the destruction outside before swooping around her distressed son to perch on the arm of the sofa, laying a comforting hand on Holly's shoulder. "So I brought Holly back here and we decided to wait it out."

Castle stood there, mouth agape. "This isn't some passing storm, Mother," he reprimanded. "You can't just wait it out."

"We've managed so far, darling," Martha enthused, emphatically raising her fisted hands into the air, brightly colored wrist bangles clattering noisily as she did so.

"Yes," added Holly, merrily. "We're tough old broads."

"Here, here," cheered Martha.

"Mother," Castle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Oh, Richard, relax!" she stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're so tense." Martha turned to Beckett. "Katherine, darling, tell him to relax."

Beckett snapped out of her reverie, having momentarily lost herself in the tumult that was the Castle family drama playing out in front of her. Releasing a breath, she stepped forward, glancing from Martha to Castle's pleading look and back.

"Martha, I'm sorry, but Castle's right," Beckett asserted with a decisive nod. "It's not safe to stay. We have to get out of here. The sooner the better."

"Yes, yes," her partner declared, nodding his head, jabbing a finger into the air. "Listen to Beckett. You always said she had a smart head on her shoulders."

"That she does," Martha agreed, eyeing both of them wearily, her eyes narrowed, as if taking in just how close Beckett was standing next to her son. "Very well," she relented. "But… oh my, what about Holly? Her ankle is pretty bad. She won't be able to walk. And I won't leave her. Really, Richard, you've known her since you were in diapers, you can't possibly be suggesting we leave her behind."

"What! No, of course not," Castle got out before his mother could continue. "We've got a car outside. I'll carry her."

"Really, dearie, that won't be necessary," Holly announced, attempting to stand, but wincing as she put pressure on her ankle.

Martha rushed in, coaxing her friend back down to the sofa. "Easy Holly," she soothed, crouching down and clasping the other woman's hand in hers. "Let Richard carry you."

"Okay," Holly relented, her wrinkled face scrunching up. "I just hate to be such a bother."

"You're not, Auntie Hilly," Castle reassured, using the name he'd used as a child with his mother's friend. "You're absolutely not."

Beckett stepped back as Castle moved around the sofa and bent down, gently taking the old, petite woman into his arms. She hugged his neck and sighed. Castle eased back up, Martha hovering by his side, fussing over both of them. Moving out of the way, Beckett trailed behind them as Castle marched towards the front door.

Casting one last glance around the loft, she closed her eyes and heaved in a deep breath, preparing herself to dive back into the fray. She hadn't known just how much she had needed this little respite from the chaos going on outside, until now, just as they were ready to depart. It had been brief, but needed. There was just something about the loft and the Castle family that relaxed her, when it should put her nerves on end and terrify her. Yet it didn't. It was very strange.

Nodding to herself, Beckett spun around in a slow pirouette and followed the others out.

Castle wouldn't say it, but Beckett could tell he was struggling after one floor, and without asking him, she simply stepped forward and helped him with his burden. Holly smiled pleasantly at her.

"What a charming young woman, you are, honey," Miss Hillybrock declared, glancing from Beckett to Castle. "She seems like a keeper, dearie."

"I keep telling him that, Holly," Martha announced from behind as they rounded the landing and headed down the final flight of stairs.

Castle grunted and glowered in his mother's direction. Martha merely beamed knowingly and winked. Beckett tried to ignore it, but she felt her face warm on a mild blush. Thankfully, they soon reached the bottom landing and Martha was pushing the door open for them as they assisted Miss Holly Hillybrock into the lobby.

"Almost there, Holly," Martha called back with a wave of her hand as she strolled ahead of them. She really could be quite the diva at times, but Beckett discovered that she found it an endearing quality, especially in Martha Rodgers. The woman made it work.

"Oh dearies, I think I can walk the rest of the way," Holly proclaimed after they made it through the front doors. "I hate being such a bother."

Castle looked dubious, but still gently lowered the older woman back down so she could put her tiny feet on the ground. Beckett recognized the stubbornness reflecting out of the woman's pale green eyes. It was something she understood, being stubborn herself, though she would rarely—if ever—admit that. Holly winced and grimaced as she put some weight on her right foot. Castle immediately ducked down.

"Lean against me, Auntie Hilly," he insisted.

Thankfully, Holly did not protest to that suggestion, and took Castle's proffered arm with a grateful smile.

"Oh my," Martha declared, standing straight and aghast as she glanced out at the wreckage and carnage along Broome Street. "I had no idea it was this terrible."

"Really!?" Castle groused, staring incredulously at his mother. "The 40-story monster didn't clue you in?"

Martha graced her son with a stern motherly glare that Beckett found quite impressive. "I'm not some senile old crone, Richard," she huffed. "Pardon me, if I sought shelter instead of running in the fray like some wild lunatic."

Castle opened his mouth to respond, a growl forming low in his throat, but Beckett cut him off with a pointed look, holding up both hands to stop the two from bickering. "Can we put a pin in this until later?" she asked. "Right now, we need to get moving."

"A sensible suggestion, Katherine," Martha agreed, smiling and glanced towards the silver sedan parked halfway up the curb. "This one?"

Beckett nodded, and moved to open the back door so that Martha and Castle could help Holly slide into the backseat. As they handled the other woman, Beckett strolled back around to the driver's side, brushing her hair out of her eyes as the wind snagged at it. She was just about to climb into the car when a strange vibration shook the ground. Castle stumbled a bit, but regained balance quick enough to catch his mother.

A low, rumbling roar sounded in the distance, followed by what sounded like a tank cannon and infantry gunfire.

"Good Gad, that sounds close," Martha remarked.

Beckett's gaze snapped to Castle's frantic eyes, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. Canal Street. All those buses, trapped in a logjam. It was like a buffet just sitting there for the creature. Castle's mouth moved wordlessly, the fear and worry for his daughter radiating off him.

"Castle," Beckett barked, grabbing his attention with the sharp tone of her voice. "Get in. Now."