Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional, uncompensated, or are in the public domain.
A/N: Italic sections in this and the next chapter denote excerpts from the surveillance tape. More notes below.
Beckett's leaning on the hood of her cruiser when Esposito finally arrives at his apartment building, Ryan riding shotgun. She wanders over to where they've parked, watching Ryan retrieve the receiver for the surveillance equipment from the trunk. The three move silently until the door closes behind them on the way into the apartment.
"Took you long enough," she offers to break the silence, watching Esposito clear the coffee table of game disks and controllers.
"Surprised you didn't break in," he replies as he walks to the console and pulls a cable from behind the TV, stretching it to the coffee table where Ryan's setting up his laptop.
"Thought about it," Beckett admits. "But I didn't want to trip over discarded panties or swooning police groupies."
"I wish," Espo gruffs out as he plugs Ryan's laptop into the power strip for his gaming system. "We set? Anyone want a beer?"
"I think I'd better keep a clear head until we know what we're dealing with," Beckett answers, moving over to take a seat on the couch next to Ryan while extracting the memory stick Tory provided. "We might need to do a fair bit of drinking after we listen," she adds fatalistically, garnering nods from the boys.
"Elevator footage or audio first?" Espo asks as he takes a place on the couch to Ryan's other side.
"Let's try to sync them," Beckett suggests. "We know he didn't end up in the elevator until after his talk with Dixon," she says directly, keeping her tone even despite her consternation with that situation. "Ryan, can you have the video ready to go and we'll play it when we get to that point in the audio?"
"Sure," Ryan answers, inserting the memory stick into his laptop and messing around for a few moments to get it queued up and ready to play on his partner's television. "There," he says, finally. "It might not synchronize perfectly, but we'll at least be close."
"Okay," Beckett says with a fortifying breath, "let's see what your juvenile little sting captured."
Ryan turns to the other laptop, the one integrated with the new surveillance bug they'd planted on Castle. There's no video, just a horizontal line that jumps around like an erratic EKG depending on the volume and tone of captured audio.
"We turned it on just after Dixon called out to Castle and waved him over toward the elevator. That's where it'll start.
"Hey, Castle," Dixon says brightly as he draws near. She's dressed casually in jeans and a flowy blouse, dark hair free and cascading around her shoulders. It's neither a uniform nor an undercover outfit, so Castle assumes she must've just clocked out.
"Hey, Dixon," Castle replies in friendly tone. "What can I do for you?"
"You can start by calling me Riley," she laughs, reaching out with a playful chuck to his shoulder. "And then you can join me for a late lunch."
"I thought it was a rule to address cops by their surnames," Castle teases, rubbing his shoulder as if stinging from her shot. "I didn't even know you had a first name."
"See?" Dixon answers immediately. "You're learning all about me already. Imagine how much better you could know me," she pauses to quirk an eyebrow, "after we spend some time together over lunch."
"Sorry, Riley," Castle replies kindly, "but I was just heading out. If boring paperwork is the order of the day, I might as well attend to my own. Besides, I told my daughter I'd pick her up from school this afternoon."
If Dixon's half as quick as Beckett, she'll understand his comment was an excuse to reference his daughter as a way of emphasizing his identity as a father rather than a single man.
"Dinner, then," Dixon proposes, undeterred.
Castle smiles as he offers a sigh. "I appreciate the offer," Castle replies honestly, sounding disappointed that this opportunity can't be pursued. "But I'm in the middle of a romantic moratorium. I've made so many mistakes that I need to take a break to lower my average," he says, offering a self-deprecating joke to steal any sting from his lack of interest.
"I can wait," Dixon answers, clearly unwilling to let Castle off the hook.
"You shouldn't," he assures her.
"Neither should you," she parries. "You don't need to wait, Rick. You shouldn't have to wait. You deserve more," Dixon coos, stepping into Castle's personal space and putting a hand on his forearm. "You deserve *better*."
"Riley," Castle confides, his lowered tone and use of her name both inviting confidence, "I'm in deep trouble if I ever get what I deserve." Castle's short answer is an attempt to avoid bringing Beckett into the conversation, which would certainly embarrass her and probably enrage her. If Dixon has any compassion, she'll stop pushing and let the subject drop.
"What makes her worth the wait?" Dixon asks, shattering Castle's hope of keeping his partner clear of this conversation. "How do you know you're not waiting in vain? You've been here for years and she doesn't even see you."
"I'm waiting," Castle answers in a voice growing inpatient and less friendly, "because it's what I need to do. It's not a decision based on anyone else – just me and what I need."
"I was wrong about you," Dixon cuts at him, finally withdrawing her hand. "I thought you were a player, someone who knew how to have a good time. But you're just a whipped little puppy, aren't you? Begging for little scraps of attention until your owner tosses you out in the yard. What's the matter?" she asks, annoyed that he's not even looking at her anymore. "Can't face the truth? Can't…"
"Quiet!" Castle cuts her off with an urgent whisper. "Something's not right. What're those people doing?"
"Stop the tape."
Beckett stands from the couch and strides into Esposito's kitchen area, desperate to put a little distance between her and the boys. They're obviously getting to the kidnapping attempt, but Beckett needs to pause for a moment to process what she just heard. How many times has that happened to her partner, she wonders? Approached at work by someone who's interested, only to become the subject of derision when he refuses to engage, however politely. Beckett knows a precinct is a terrible crucible for relationships – everyone's watching, gossip spreads like wildfire, and reputations are built and torn down based on rumors that often have no basis in fact. Those are exactly the reasons she's been so wary of pursuing something with Castle, especially after painful experiences in her past.
She never considered that Castle might be facing the same thing. It's ironic that Dixon went from wooing Castle with promises of 'what he deserved' to laying into him in a completely undeserved way. She feels guilty enough about some of the things Dixon said about Beckett herself, but now she also feels guilty about the shots Castle will take if Dixon starts sharing her discontent around the precinct.
And the worst part, she admits, is that until recently she might've ignored the effects of a conversation like this on her partner. She's been so worried about the reputation of her team, of herself, that she probably would've been annoyed at the attention created by Castle's romantic foibles, even if he wasn't to blame. It makes her wonder if all the bruises he's absorbed recently are physical.
While Beckett helps herself to a glass of water, Ryan and Esposito trade uncomfortable looks. What started as a stupid prank has spiraled woefully out of control. Rather than fodder to tease Castle, their recording upset Beckett in a way they hadn't (but probably should've) anticipated. They sit at the couch and stew in their guilt, fearful that any efforts to talk about a way to lessen the discomfort will only increase the tension.
Beckett returns without a word, sitting on the couch and placing her glass of water on the coffee table, grabbing a videogame case as a coaster. "Let's go," she says, her voice eager to move past this early conversation and to find out what happened while she was with Dr. Burke.
"Back off or she dies!" promises the blonde woman posing as Eckes' attorney as she waives the handgun taken from Hastings. With the officer as a shield, the trio moves slowly toward the elevator, heads swiveling to assess threats. The other fake attorney leads their triangle, reaching the elevator first and stabbing at the call button.
"Down on the floor," he growls to Castle and Dixon. After a helpless look at each other, both start to crouch down before the blonde woman interjects.
"Hold it – we want the pretty boy," she corrects her companion while pointing at Castle.
"Don't know, L, he looks pretty big," Eckes objects, probably imagining he'd have to carry Castle as he's carrying Hastings.
"He's a somebody – a reality TV guy or somethin'," she explains, though it looks like she's not happy about being questioned. Castle, meanwhile, looks mortally affronted for being confused for someone who might appear on The Wives of Wall Street. "Drop the girly and take him."
Eckes literally complies, releasing a woozy Hastings who's bleeding from a blow to her temple. Castle lunges forward and catches her as she slumps, guiding her gently to the floor.
"Are you al…," he starts to ask while wiping some blood from her cheek before he's knocked sideways by a fierce backhand.
"Anybody moves, pretty boy here dies," the blonde threatens again before Castle's dragged backwards into the elevator car.
"Start Tory's video," Beckett directs.
Ryan complies, shifting the attention of the detectives from the surveillance laptop to Espo's TV for this portion of the drama.
"How the hell we gettin' out of here?" Eckes asks. "We're in a fuckin' building full of cops."
"Randall's around the corner," the blonde replies, sending a text message to their getaway driver. "But we're screwed if this damn elevator moves any slower. Lift pretty boy there," she instructs, gesturing with her purloined gun. "And you're welcome for rescuing your fat ass, by the way."
Standing behind Castle, Eckes hoists him up, nearly lifting him off the floor of the elevator. The blonde waves the gun, tracing the outline of Castle's body before stilling while pointed at his left thigh.
"Whadya think – leg shot?" she asks, though it seems like she's thinking out loud rather than soliciting advice. "We need to show the cops we'll cap him if they get in the way. Can you carry him if I take out a leg? Or should we go for a shoulder?" she asks as the gun lifts.
"Screw carrying him," Eckes replies. "Even if we got him, the cops are just gonna follow Randall's van."
"Not once we chuck a few pipe-bombs out the window and give the cops some civilian casualties to worry about. And maybe the bouncing body of a TV hack," she adds menacingly. "Now, which one?" she asks with a cruel smile. "Wing," she proposes as she points the gun at Castle's shoulder, "or drumstick?" she finishes as the gun drifts downward.
She's still laughing when Castle's foot connects with her wrist, sending the gun flying. He lashes his head backwards into Eckes' face, connecting solidly with his nose. The sharp crack and burst of blood leaves the big man reeling. Even as he staggers, though, Castle's reached out for the blonde, drawing her forward with a hand fisted in her shirt even as his head lowers to connect again. She slumps immediately to the floor as Castle spins in place.
The other fake attorney swings at Castle, his attempt clumsy due to the confined space and Eckes' efforts to right himself. Castle steps into the punch, letting it glance off his shoulder as he delivers a punishing uppercut that drives the air from the imposter's lungs. As he doubles over, Castle catches him by the throat and drives him into the wall of the elevator. The metallic clang of the impact masks the damage done to throat and head, but the imposter slumps bonelessly to the floor.
"Gonna fuckin' kill you," Eckes promises in a burbling growl, tackling Castle as he turns. After driving Castle into the wall of the elevator, Eckes spins and dives for the gun that was taken from Hastings. Expecting Castle to compete for the weapon, he grins victoriously as he grasps the gun while unencumbered. His satisfaction is short-lived as Castle instead drops on top of him, lowering his elbow like a boom and driving Eckes' head into the floor of the elevator. With a hand tangled in Eckes' hair, Castle lifts and slams his head to the floor twice before letting go.
Standing slowly, Castle sways for a moment. "Ow," he mutters to himself as he rubs his head, first in the front and then in the back. Bending over to secure the weapon, he drags Eckes to the side to allow room beside the door. Kneeling, he shelters out of view as the elevator halts and the doors slide open.
"Clear!" he calls out, tossing the weapon out of the elevator to reduce tensions among the officers arrayed in the lobby. "Suspects down. It's Castle – don't shoot me!"
"What. The. Hell?" Esposito says while staring at the TV, hand fumbling out to pause the surveillance replay.
"Play Tory's video again," Beckett asks, staring at the TV as incredulously as her partners. The scene is even more unreal without sound – three assailants, kidnapping Castle, waving a gun around. And then an explosion of violence she never would've imagined from her partner. Had he not complained about his head afterward she'd be convinced it was someone else.
"So, what – ten or fifteen seconds?" Ryan asks, staring slack-jawed at the screen. "He took out all three by himself in ten or fifteen seconds?"
"How in the hell did he do that?" Esposito asks again, still shocked. "It's like he was somebody else. Castle couldn't do that. Castle couldn't even write a takedown that well, much less pull one off."
"I think he might be training," Beckett speculates, mind spinning. Could this be the origin of his bruises? Maybe the angry take-down she'd witnessed was a learned response?
"Where?" Espo asks. "Play the video again," he says, standing and walking to the TV. "Okay, pause," he says after the blonde goes down. "So, it might look improvised, but the head-butts are the optimal move here. Limited space, crowded elevator. Too easy to get tangled or tackled. But, two quick moves – bam! bam! – and one's down and the other's hurt. Okay, play," he calls out to his partner.
"This guy," Espo says while pointing to the second fake attorney, "no head-butt for him. Pause it again," he says just before Castle gets tackled by Eckes. "Two shots, but all in one motion." He repeats Castle's move in slow motion, simulating an uppercut to the body that flows smoothly into a grab and thrust against an imaginary neck. "The first leaves the vic without air, the second incapacitates – quick, brutal, and efficient."
Ryan plays the rest of the clip, then stops the video altogether. "He's definitely had training or he's just really confident."
"Exactly," Esposito nods, impressed his partner noticed the same thing he did. "A noob would dive for the weapon, which just turns into a wrestling match in close quarters with two bodies in the way. Instead, he kept his footing, let Eckes make a move to expose himself, then countered. Know what this reminds me of?" he asks, looking from Ryan to Beckett and back again. "Basic Training. These are rougher forms of Army tactics – no frills, no messing around, just ruthless actions to stay alive. You might be right about the training, Beckett."
"You haven't mentioned the most obvious evidence," she replies, still looking at the darkened television screen. "He took the initiative. He wasn't cowering. And he hit a woman – he would never have done that without training that taught him to see threats rather than genders. Not that it'll help him deal with the guilt," she finishes with a mumble, knowing her partner well enough to know that he'll be deeply troubled by his actions despite their necessity.
The three detectives ponder on this while Ryan restarts the audio, which runs without comment for several minutes. They hear Castle tell the first-responders about the get-away driver, warning them about munitions in the van. Gates arrives and directs Castle to her office, where she promises to join him as soon as the suspects and crime scenes are squared away. Then there's just the background noises of Castle making his way upstairs. Just when it sounds like he's ready to settle into Gates' office, they hear frenetic movement and doors slamming instead.
"Here it comes," Espo predicts, shaking his head.
"Here what comes?" Ryan asks.
"His lunch," his partner replies, grimacing to the soundtrack of Castle retching. "I woulda been even more surprised if the elevator scene didn't freak him out a bit."
His colleagues nod, listening to Castle vomit to the point of dry heaves before cleaning himself up and making his way back to Gates' office.
"Pause it," Beckett says, standing for a refill of her water. She needs a break before Castle's interview with Gates. But not everyone agrees.
"You mean stop it, right, not pause it?" Ryan asks challengingly.
"Why would we stop?" Espo asks. "I've gotta hear how he explains this to Gates."
"But we don't need to hear this – we shouldn't even have recorded this," he replies, turning to appeal to Beckett. "We said we were going to listen to the tape to see if it needs to be introduced as evidence. There's nothing about Castle's talk with Gates that'll be relevant for the case against those three," he asserts, pointing to the darkened TV.
"Beckett?" Esposito prompts, turning to her. "Your call – either as boss or as deciding vote. We gonna listen to the rest?"
The worst part is that Ryan's probably right. They shouldn't have taped the conversation with Gates in the first place and she'll certainly be furious if she finds out. But, having recorded it, they'd still save some goodwill, and perhaps their jobs, if they can vow that they hadn't listed to the portion with her talking to Castle. The evidentially value of that last bit is probably nil, anyway, so there's little justification for listening to it.
But she needs to hear this, needs to hear whether it explains how her partner is getting hurt or how he learned to do what she witnessed in the elevator. They're going to talk with Burke and she needs to know what she can do to help.
"Play the tape," she casts her vote.
"This is a bad idea," Ryan answers, shaking his head even as he goes about prepping the audio again.
"Kevin, you can leave if you don't want to be involved," Beckett replies with consideration. "In fact, maybe it'd be best if we kept someone clean, in case there's blowback."
"Yeah, not gonna happen," Ryan replies, offended. "My partner does something stupid, I need to back him up," he declares while cutting a look at a shrugging Esposito.
"Exactly," Beckett nods, agreeing with his point.
A/N2: This and the next chapter post a little early because it turn out we're leaving insanely early tomorrow to return home after a wonderful Thanksgiving break. I hope you like these chapters. When I write a story, there's usually a scene or two that motivate the tale. For this story, chapters 5 and 6 are what I had in mind. With any luck, they justify the read so far!