Miracle At the 12th Precinct
CHAPTER 27
Elf's Lament (by Barenaked Ladies)
Disclaimer: Castle belongs to ABC, Santa to the world, the others...I have too much time on my hands.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my new Beta, 41319always41319, because she's awesome!
Castle's Loft...
A delivery man carrying packages entered the front lobby of Castle's building and waited in line while a woman spoke to the uniformed man behind the front desk.
"I'll be right with you." The doorman told him.
The delivery man nodded back and then waited patiently while the woman signed for a large package and received the rest of her mail. Spotting the security cam's red light in the high corner of the hallway, he tugged down on the rim of his cap, shading his eyes, and then turned, subtly facing away from the camera.
The woman finished her business and then the clerk gave an 'all clear' to someone on the other end of his radio, watching until she disappeared safely into the elevator.
"Sorry for the wait." Apologized the doorman.
"No problem." The delivery man replied.
"Can I help you?" The doorman asked, giving the delivery man a once-over; taking in the uniform and the packages he held.
"Yes, Sir. I've got a delivery here for 2-B. Looks like someone did all their Christmas shopping online this year." He chuckled, placing his packages on the counter. He then pulled an electronic signature device from his front pocket and handed it to the clerk. "If you'll just sign right there on the dotted line, I'll be out of your hair in no time."
With his head down while signing for the packages, the doorman never noticed the gun. He took one shot to the chest before his limp body fell to the ground behind the desk.
Keeping his head lowered the hitman quickly pulled out a can of spray paint and blackened-out the security camera. He then grabbed both the keys and concealed weapon from the clerk's body and moved to the entrance-way, signaling to his accomplice to join him. After they were both secured inside and the front entry-way was locked, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed-dial. His accomplice, meanwhile, hurried behind the counter, removed the clerk's uniform jacket and put it on. He dragged the Fed's body out of the way, assumed his place behind the front desk and then checked the surveillance screens.
"Yes?" Came the chilled voice on the other end of the line.
"We're in. Target was spotted entering earlier and hasn't left the building. Lobby's clear. Decoy's in place."
"And the others?"
The man looked to his partner for confirmation and received a nod back.
"We took out the Fed in the front lobby, no problem. The other agents are positioned exactly as we expected." He replied.
"Good. Lock them down. Then proceed as planned." Came the brusque reply.
"Understood."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Not far from the 12th Precinct...
Breanna Frost lifted the near empty flask to her lips and downed its last drop of liquid gold. Her troubles being what they were, she'd gone in search of a well-deserved refill so she could continue drowning her sorrows. Her ungrateful son had vanished once again, disobeying explicit orders to remain where he was until her return. After discovering him missing from his hide-out she'd looked everywhere for him, to no avail. He was off her radar once again. His shocking defiance of their agreement for him to stay put while she repaired the mess he'd created, left her baffled. With his track record, why in heaven would he so foolishly attempt to take matters into his own hands when she had everything perfectly under control? And after all she'd done for him. As promised, she'd convinced his uncle to agree to her demands and they'd been on the precipice of getting all they'd ever dreamed of, but now all her hard work had been in vain - he'd gone and thrown it away like yesterday's trash and along with it – her future.
She blamed his whore and the other mortals for his downfall – mostly the whore. She'd turned him against his own mother with her false promises and evil ways. The wench had cast an evil spell over her son, leaving him gullible, weak and reckless. Despite her best efforts and obvious horror, Thomas had turned out to be exactly like his father – nothing more than a deserter. And now, if she didn't come through on her deal with Kris she'd be banished forever, unable to return to the North Pole - she'd be an outcast. Distraught, she roamed the streets of New York contemplating her life choices and planning her next move, vowing to make them all pay for her suffering.
The sign above the door may have read, "Sullivan's Tavern" but it called out her name. It would be as good a place as any to decompress before she continued the search for her selfish wayward son. She assumed the establishment would be a wretched dive filled with degenerates, however it was cold outside, and inside was sure to be well-heated. That being said, the place surprised her. She admired the bottles of spirits beautifully lined up against the mirror behind the bar and fancied the piano she'd spotted along the far side of the room. The few patrons seated were men, their heads turning in tandem upon her entrance. The place fell silent and there were a few raised eyebrows as they gave her the once-over. Chin held high she glared back, daring the riff-raff to tussle with her. After a moment they turned their backs to her and went back to minding their own business. She decided to sit at the bar and called the burly man behind it over to serve her.
Sam, the bartender draped the towel over his shoulder and silently assessed his newest customer. Unfazed by the unusual wardrobe choices for a woman of her advanced age, in his line of work, she wasn't the craziest thing he'd ever seen. Experience, however, told him what should worry him more were her crazy eyes. He watched her climb up onto a barstool and adjust her hair in the mirror, then he made his way over.
He narrowed his eyes then cleared his throat. "What'll it be, Lady?"
She thought it over a moment, before finally deciding. "I'll have a Hanky Panky, please…straight-up, garnished with a twist of orange and sprig of mint."
He snickered then looked around for cameras, wondering if he was being punked.
"What exactly is so funny, young man?" She demanded to know. "Are you daft?"
Her glare told him she was serious. "Lady, does this look like a Hoolihan's to you? We got beer, vodka, rum and gin. We got whiskey. What'll it be?"
"I have no idea what a "Hoolihan's" is, nor do I care to. But very well then, make it a whiskey. And be quick about it, mortal."
Mortal? Out of spite he took his time, eventually pouring her drink and placing it in front of her. She downed it like a pro, then promptly requested another. When he asked for payment upfront she pulled out a hundred dollar bill from her garter and slapped it on the bar. He hoped to one day, be able to un-see that.
"What?" She said, confused by his grimace. "I pride myself in always being prepared for just this sort of emergency whilst traveling." He picked it up, made a show of inspecting the bill carefully until he was satisfied it wasn't fake.
"Keep them coming, barkeep." She told him. And so he did.
About an hour in, she convinced Old Pete, who's called Old Pete because he's about two-hundred years old, to play the piano for her so she could sing along. At first, this was a source of amusement for all; she wasn't half bad. An hour and a half in on her tenth rendition of Cry Me A River, and a myriad of other - less than upbeat - songs, Sam had had about enough. Old Pete, on the other hand was enjoying himself immensely. Everything was fine until she got completely tanked.
By the time she fell off the chair she'd been standing on while belting out a tune, amusing had morphed into disturbing and Sam cut her off, explaining their time together had come to an end. He called her a cab. The cab company asked for her address but all he could get out of her was that she lived up North somewhere. That's when things got ugly. She quickly became unhinged, ranting about how her son, his whore and some other guy named Kris, had done her wrong and how now she would be doomed for all eternity. Despite this claim she kept bragging about how grounded she was. To Sam, this made no sense at all since in his thirty years bartending he'd never met anyone less grounded.
Her fatal mistake was swearing at Sam like a sailor. Once she threw his name into the mix of people on her shit list a chain reaction was unleashed among the natives who had now become restless with her bad behavior. Various obscenities volleyed, many highly recommending she shut the fuck up already. She reclaimed her barstool, calming down considerably once she realized she was outnumbered by a bunch of wound up New Yorkers. That's about the same time, Mike O'Leary stopped in for a cold one after coming off his shift. Mikey, one of Sam's regulars, also happened to be an off-duty cop. Taking his usual seat at the bar he waited while Sam poured him a beer.
"Everything all right, Sam?" O'Leary asked, picking up on the hostility in the air. He eye-balled the old lady sitting at the other end with her head on the bar.
Sam and O'Leary looked over at Breanna. "Yeah, it's under control." And it was, until the cabbie showed up and they tried to get her to leave.
O'Leary tried his best to help Sam escort her out to the cab, but she was a hot mess and fought them tooth and nail. Once he got a good look at her up close and personal, O'Leary recognized her from a BOLO put out earlier in the day. He promptly cuffed her, read her Miranda rights and sent the cabbie on his way. Breanna resisted arrest, even managing to take a swing at him, but after he reasoned with her and calmed her down out of the blue she did a 180 getting a little too touchy-feely for his tastes; claimed he reminded her of a young Clark Gable. Nearly broke Old Pete's heart. Then she passed out. He and Sam stuffed her into the backseat of O'Leary's Buick and then he dropped her off at the 12th Precinct. After she was booked, her drunken ass was promptly tossed in the tank to sleep it off.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Back at Castle's Loft...
Kris, Holly and Castle were sharing the take-out food an agent had dropped off when they heard a loud thump coming from upstairs causing them all to jump. Their meal was quickly forgotten. "What was that?" Holly whispered, panicked.
Castle immediately went into protective mode and tried to keep his cool. "I'm not sure, Holly. Why don't you take Kris into my bedroom? Lock the door behind you and don't open it again until I say so." He whispered.
"Now children, I'm sure there's no cause for alarm." Kris said, remarkably calm.
"Better safe than sorry." Holly said. "Come on, Kris. We should do as he says." She hurried him into Castle's bedroom and locked the door.
Castle looked through the peephole of his front door to check for the agent on duty. There was a guard posted, but not the one who had brought them in their food earlier. He didn't recognize him. Something felt off. That's when his adrenaline started pumping.
Afraid to open the door to check further Rick pulled out his cell phone and hit speed-dial for Beckett. Unfortunately, it went straight to her voicemail. He reminded himself to remain calm. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for both the noise and the guard change. As he left Kate a quick message, he ran to his office to grab the gun he kept in his desk drawer for safekeeping. "Kate, it's me. It's probably just my overactive imagination, but there's a new guard posted out front. He didn't announce himself and we just heard a noise coming from upstairs. Get here as soon as you can."
After hanging up he heard another noise from upstairs, only this time it was followed by what he clearly recognized as cursing. They definitely had company, now he was sure of it. Gun in hand he headed back out to the living room debating whether it was best to take an offensive or defensive position. Should he rush upstairs, start shooting and ask questions later or lie in wait, take the intruder by surprise? He ducked behind the Christmas tree, gun at the ready.
Castle heard footsteps descending the stairs, but his view was partially blocked by the tree. When he caught a glimpse of someone at the bottom of the stairs he jumped out with his gun aimed at the intruder. "Freeze, dirt-bag! Hands up where I can see them. Stay where you are!"
The intruder jumped, turning to face Castle. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" He cried, holding his hands up over his head defensively. He was panting heavily, entirely out of breath.
Castle kept the gun pointed at his target. "How the hell did get in here? Guards are surrounding the building. There's even one at the front door. How did you get past them all?"
The intruder held up a finger silently asking for a moment to catch his breath, although keenly aware of the gun still aimed at him. He sucked in some air and muttered between breaths, "Subway… car bumpers…almost eaten by dogs - Basset-hounds…no elevator. Scaled building…" His breathing started to come under control. "It's windier outside than it looks really. And for my grand finale I climbed through the air vents. Apologies for the broken lamp."
Castle slowly recognized his intruder from his photos and allowed himself to relax, assuming the guard at his front door had been legit all along. "Well if it isn't the illusive Tommy Frost."
Breathing nearly back to normal, Tommy let out a slightly stilted, albeit relieved laugh. "Yes. Thank God. You recognize me. Give the man a prize. Tommy Frost, at your service. You really had me scared for a moment there." He bowed, tipped his baseball hat. "And you would be Richard Castle, I presume."
Castle nodded, but kept the gun steady.
Tommy stared anxiously at the gun. "Ah, I see my reputation precedes me, but please don't believe everything you hear. I come in peace and of my own accord." He continued. "Now kindly put that thing down like a good boy before somebody gets hurt. And by somebody, I mean me."
To Tommy's relief Castle finally lowered his gun, for while Tommy might be considered an outlaw in the eyes of the authorities, he appeared anything but dangerous. "Right. Sorry, truthfully, I didn't recognize you at first – what with the street clothes."
"Yes, of course, perfectly understandable. I was gifted the new attire. Pretty nifty, right? I did, however, assume the fact I'm also clearly an elf might have given away my true identity. Or do you know many elves, do you?"
"Um, no. You make a good point." Castle realized he should be the one asking the questions and attempted to re-take control of the conversation. "By the way, where the hell have you been? You've been very, very, naughty little elf. Everyone's out looking for you."
"Yes, I find myself quite popular these days, and not in a good way. I'm not sure if you're aware, but 'everyone' includes the Mangosas and their henchmen. They've been trying to kill me, repeatedly, and apparently they are also now after my dear Holly. Regardless, I've come here to turn myself in to the authorities and to explain myself." He looked around. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to tell me where she is, I'd be most grateful. We must leave here at once."
"Not so fast, Tommy." Castle said. "I have a few questions of my own first."
"Okay, shoot." He replied. "And I beg of you not to take that literally."
"You can start by telling me how the hell you found us?"
"Funny story really, but I'm not so sure you'll believe me."
"I have a great sense of humor. Try me."
"Very well, if you insist. It's been quite an adventure. A friend of mine, Billy, helped me track you down and then I hopped a ride on numerous pants legs and two very large ladies handbags - the ladies, not the purses. This was followed by a tumultuous journey on your wretched subway system and more than a few car bumpers. Not an easy task when you're a mere few inches tall at the time. Nevertheless, I persevered. Now, I implore you - bring me to Holly posthaste." He pleaded. "I must see her, make her understand why I ran off. And while you're at it you may want to pull up a chair for the show because it will include some very extensive groveling on my part. Afterwards I promise to tell you the entire story and then she and I must, 'get out of Dodge', as you cowboys like to say. I suggest you do the same. They've discovered where you live, Mr. Castle, and it's only a matter of time before they show up here and..."
"Relax, Tommy." Castle said, cutting him off and thankful he'd already phoned Beckett. "You're safe here. And help is already on the way. When I first heard the noises from upstairs I called it in. Have I mentioned, we're surrounded by armed guards?"
He tilted his head. "No offense, but I slipped past them, didn't I?"
"About that..."
The bedroom door suddenly sprang open. "Tommy?" Holly whispered, unable to believe her eyes. He'd finally come back to her.
"Holly!" He yelled, smiling, overjoyed to see her.
She sprinted across the room, launching herself straight into his arms. It would have been very romantic – if she hadn't tackled him and they hadn't fallen to the floor. Rising to her knees she lifted him off his feet putting them at eye level. They kissed passionately as both Kris and Castle stood by awkwardly examining their shoes. Apparently, Holly was the quick-to-forgive type. Kris, grinned and winked at Castle, then quickly plastered back on a stern expression. Tommy would need to right his wrongs before gaining his forgiveness.
When they came up for air, Tommy nearly fell back over, stunned to see the man standing behind her – the man he was sure had been lost to the world forever. He found it hard to breathe normally. "Oh my god, Uncle Kris – you're alive! Is it really you?"
Kris wrinkled his nose. "Why of course I am. Whatever do you mean?"
"I thought you were…gone. I'm so happy to see you, Uncle..." Answers would have to wait.
Abruptly Holly pulled away, keeping Tommy at arm's length, her good mood changing fast as lightening. "Tommy Frost, where the hell have you been?" She demanded. Tommy braced himself for the inevitable back-lash. "Why didn't you call me to let me know you were okay? How could you be so selfish? What on earth were you thinking?"
Tommy winced and both Kris and Castle almost felt sorry for him. Alas, happiness over their reunion was to be short-lived. And though historically, elves were known to be immensely charming creatures, at the moment this rule clearly did not appear to apply to the love of his life or his uncle. Tommy grinned, bringing forth his dimples then began back-peddling. "Snookums, please just hear me out. You're angry and you have every right to be, but you must understand. I only stayed away because I thought it would keep you safe. I'm so relieved you're both all right. You look very nice by the way. Love the outfit. I thought I was doing the right thing. They said they would hurt you if I...I thought both Timmy and Kris were gone and that you'd be safer if I left. I can see now how wrong I was."
She wasn't smiling back, but he wasn't giving up. "Holly, I love you. Please tell me you believe me and that you'll forgive me? You must!"
Regardless of how angry she was at him, taking him back was inevitable. She loved him. "Despite my better judgment, you know I will, however there will be a very lengthy and detailed discussion in our future on how one is expected to conduct himself in this relationship. I'll talk and you will listen."
"Understood, my love." He smiled. "I would expect nothing less."
He looked to Kris with a small, hopeful smile trying to gauge the older man's mood, so happy to see him again, searching for some inkling of understanding, any sign of forgiveness, but Kris merely crossed his arms and frowned.
"Uncle Kris, you're truly a sight for sore eyes, I can't believe you're here. Mother said you were dead...how is this even possible? I saw you with my own eyes..." He shook his head as if to erase the memory of Kris and Timmy, lying on the floor, unmoving, amidst the scattered bomb remnants in the aftermath of the bombing. A thought suddenly came to mind, hope ran through his body. If his uncle was alive, maybe that meant Timmy was too. "Does this mean Timmy - is he all right as well?"
Kris searched for the right words but none came. He shook his head and slowly closed his eyes, unable to bare the pain he knew he'd see in Tommy's eyes. They'd all lost so much.
"He didn't make it." Castle said, for him. "I'm sorry, Tommy. But Kris, on the other hand - it was a miracle he managed to survive. If you'd stuck around a little longer, you might have known this."
Tommy's voice was soft and shaky. "I thought they were both gone, I swear to you. I thought I'd been too late. And I truly believed it would be best for everyone if I was gone. Why on earth didn't Billy tell me you were alive, Uncle Kris? Wait, what am I saying…of course he didn't – he's Billy. I never actually asked him straight out if you were okay. He helped me find you, you know, Mr. Castle. You'd be amazed at what you can find online these days."
"Billy helped you to find us?" Kris asked, confused. "It wasn't your mother who sent you here today, Thomas?" Kris asked.
Tommy shook his head. "No, just the opposite, actually. I've come of my own accord. Mother gave me explicit instructions to stay put and thinks I'm still in hiding. She will be...displeased, to say the least, but frankly, I don't care anymore. I'm done letting her control me. A rather good call I'd say since it appears she's been lying to me all along. Better late, than never, I suppose. Uncle Kris, I've come to turn myself in, to make amends. I'm prepared to beg for your forgiveness. I'm so deeply sorry for everything I've done. This entire fiasco began with my reckless and childish behavior. I realize this now."
Kris studied him carefully. It appeared Tommy had done some growing up and was at last stepping up, prepared to take responsibility for his actions, as he well should. It also appeared Breanna was not as in control of the situation as she had led him to believe. An approving grin escaped his lips despite his best efforts. "Good." He nodded. "But, we'll see."
It wasn't much, but Tommy took Kris' quiet approval as a sign of hope he'd be able to someday make amends with his uncle. He turned to Castle. "I want you to know Holly had nothing at all to do with of any this. Nothing at all."
It was said with such conviction, Castle believed him and nodded.
"As soon as I escaped from Mangosa's men I went to the apartment as fast as I could – to try and warn them..." Tommy continued.
"Wait. You knew about the bomb?" Castle asked.
"No. Not about the bomb. I wish I had. But I knew they were in some kind of danger. BB and Vinny kidnapped me after I'd left work. They brought me to the back room of a tavern. I was tied up but I overheard them say they were going after Kris and Timmy. BB, he's stark raving mad I tell you, and he was entirely convinced I had a gun that belonged to him – which is absolutely ludicrous, I assure you. I abhor the dreadful things. Still he insisted I was hiding this gun in our apartment. They said they were going over there and then BB said if they didn't find what they were looking for he was going to kill both Santa and Timmy and then he'd go after Holly. I tried to reason with him, but he'd hear none of it. They left me there tied up to a chair, but I managed to break free." He paused, smiled at Holly. "Wait until you see what I can do, honey! I've a new incredible power!" Kris cleared his throat to get Tommy refocused. "Sorry, right…so after I escaped, I rushed to our apartment as fast as I could."
"And where was your mother during all of this turmoil, Thomas?" Kris asked, trying to keep the boy on track.
"Ah, yes, dear old mother. Well, you know her better than me Uncle Kris - never around when you need her, can't get rid of her otherwise. Without my normal powers I had no way to contact her. But after a spell, she found me. She led me to believe you had both died, when she knew you were still alive Uncle Kris. Why would she do such an unspeakable, horrible thing? She showed absolutely no remorse – I should have known. How could she be so heartless?"
Kris wasn't sure how to respond, for he himself was partly to blame. After all, he was the one responsible for Tommy's current lack of powers, though he'd thought at the time it was for the boy's own good. Be that as it may, he was appalled at Breanna's antics and unable to imagine how any mother could bring herself to lie to her own son in such a manner. "To keep us apart, Thomas. Divide and conquer, I suspect. She can be quite persuasive, son." Kris replied. "Thomas, I think it's time you know why she hated Timmy so."
"You mean there's a valid reason?" Tommy asked. "What could he possibly have ever done to her to warrant her hatred?"
"There's no easy way to tell you this, unfortunately." Kris replied. "But Timmy was…your father's son, Thomas. Timmy was your true half-brother. Your mother knew of your father's indiscretion. She became enraged and they separated shortly thereafter. Over the years she grew bitter, especially once he abandoned you both, never to return. I'm not condoning her behavior mind you, she's done some inexcusable things in her life, but you deserve to know the entire story. Now, I'm afraid, you must forgive me, for not telling you sooner."
Tommy nodded, at a loss for words. He was beside himself as he tried to make sense of it all. He'd always felt a deep connection to Timmy and now he understood why. And his mother – it explained her behavior – to a point. But he'd never forgive her deceit and conniving intentionally meant to inflict pain on those he loved.
He took Holly's hands in his, looked deep into her eyes. "And you, she said you wanted to turn me in to the police, that you hated me, and wished never to see me again. I fell for her lies. I'd convinced myself you'd be better off without me, but now I realize I was wrong. I should have confided in you. If only I'd handled everything so differently. We've always been stronger as a team, not apart. How could I be so stupid?"
"She convinced you because she's determined to get rid of me, Tommy – she's never approved and would say and do anything to keep us apart. She's an evil genius." Holly said, her heart breaking for him.
Tommy's jaw clenched. "It no longer matters what she wants, Holly. She won't control me. And from now on I'll have no problem telling her that. Our future will be up to us."
She smiled and squeezed his hands, heard his sigh of relief. She was proud of him. It was about time he stood up to the old battle-axe.
"I hate to interrupt, but what exactly is your mother's role in all this, Tommy?" Castle asked. "I for one, would like the specifics."
"I'm afraid that's a rather long and painful story, Mr. Castle," He said with disdain. "Starting when I was around four, and one perhaps better handled by a trained psychologist. It is also a tale which must wait. As I said earlier, it's not safe here any longer and Mangosas' men will be here soon. If I found you, they won't be far behind. We must all leave at once. Danger is imminent."
"Not so fast, Tommy. We're waiting for Beckett." Castle said.
"Pardon me, but I'm from out of town. What exactly is a Beckett?" Tommy asked, confused.
"Not a 'what', but a 'who'. And that's, Detective Kate Beckett." Castle replied. "And I'm certain she'll be bringing back up and we're being guarded by federal agents, so we're perfectly safe..." As if on cue, sounds of a struggle came from beyond the front door and they all froze.
Tommy's panicked eyes met Castle's and he whispered, "I fear it's too late for your Beckett, Mr. Castle - it appears we have company..."
There was a loud thump sounding an awful lot like a body falling against the door, followed by angry pounding.
They spoke in hushed voices. "I hate to be Mr. Obvious, but Uncle Kris, can't you just zap us all to safety?" Tommy urged.
"I'm afraid not." Kris explained. "Unfortunately, my powers have been rather squirrelly of late. They barely work on me, let alone are they strong enough to whisk away the four of us."
"Can we talk about this later, guys? Go. Now." Castle whisper yelled, taking charge. "Take cover behind the tree and stay down." He watched as they scurried to do as instructed, relieved when the enormous Christmas tree hid the three of them perfectly. He briefly remembered Beckett joking about the size of a man's Christmas tree in direct correlation to his manhood. Who's laughing now?
Castle ducked behind the couch, a safe distance from the doorway, and checked his gun, removing the safety. Someone was now trying desperately to jimmy the lock. Frost was right - their secret location was no longer a secret. Castle held his breath when the jiggling stopped and the door opened.
Someone entered, quietly, unannounced, confirming it was neither Beckett nor the agent who'd been guarding them. The door closed and there were sounds of a body being dragged inside, presumably the downed agent's. Castle dared a peek from his line on the hallway mirror.
The intruder, dressed in a delivery uniform scanned the room. It was so quiet he could hear his own breathing. Contrary to this silence, all the lights were on and unfinished plates of food were abandoned on the table. His soon to be victims were hiding. If that's the way they wanted it, he'd play along. He kept his voice as friendly as possible - for an assassin. "I know you're in here." He called out, stepping over the agent's body. "Now come on out - all of you. Don't make this harder than it has to be. My benefactor just has a couple of questions for you."
Silence.
"Look," He tried again. "It's Christmas time; I'm feeling benevolent. Show yourself, cooperate and then I'll be on my merry way - promise." The agent's unconscious body was blocking the door so he dragged him across the floor into Castle's bedroom making a lot of noise in the process.
Knowing there was only a moment before the man's return Castle frantically signaled to Kris, Holly and Tommy wanting them to make a run for it, but couldn't get their attention.
Castle, scared as hell, forced himself to focus. Without Beckett and the boys for back-up it appeared he'd be on his own.