Chapter 118

A worrying call to Beckett's cell phone came when she was at the gym. It was late, almost midnight and she was about to head for the change room to shower when she felt the gym bag vibrate. It was anticipated it would be Castle who had been AWOL for hours. Maybe he had finally decided to surface. She hadn't heard from him since he'd left the Precinct that morning which had been causing increasing anxiety. Espo and Ryan, who had deliberately reached out to her to go do something, were behind her, cooling off after their treadmill workout. They had called her that evening inviting her to meet them for a gym session and she'd gone along. Exercise had been mentally beneficial to Kate: had distracted her from Castle's radio silence and had provided the opportunity to thrash out some pent-up emotions. Sometimes cops needed to vent and process trauma with their team and on this occasion, Esposito and Ryan had been the perfect company to bring her back up the rabbit hole.

When she pulled the phone from the bag, she saw the number was unlisted. "Hey guys, wait up," she said and stopped walking to take the call.

"Who's calling you this time of the night?" Espo quietly asked as he came back to her.

"Don't know." She accepted the call, her eyes on Ryan's blue concerned eyes. "Beckett."

"Katherine, its Martha."

Kate breathed deeper with relief, "Martha." But then her stomach began to roll with nervousness.

"I hope I haven't woken you."

"No. I'm up." She looked at the guys who waited for her. "What is it Martha, is something wrong?"

"Is Richard with you?"

"No. He's not. I thought he was staying in."

"Then it was time I called you."

"I'm with Javy and Kev. I'll put you on speaker."

"Okay, Darling."

Beckett hit the speaker button. "We're here, Martha."

"Hi everyone. I'm worried because this afternoon Richard and Alexis had a horrid fight about the incident at the Precince."

Kate closed her eyes, drew in air. The news had her gut somersault. Kevin's touch to her hand opened her eyes to his and he whispered.

"Alexis and Castle fighting?"

Kate shrugged in response and then said, "Where is Alexis?"

"In her bedroom. I thought Richard might be with you."

"No. I tried to call him earlier, but I haven't spoken with him. He hasn't picked up my calls."

"Mine either."

"What happened?"

"After their fight, he took off, Darling. He was fuming. Never seen him that angry."

Kate glanced at the time. A few minutes shy of midnight. "How long ago did he leave?"

"Hours ago. I hoped he was with you."

Beckett shrugged her shoulder at the boys, pretended she didn't understand why Martha would anticipate Castle was with her, but she knew in her heart Castle was really upset if he hadn't come to her. "No. He didn't, but we'll go look for him."

She finished the conversation and hung up, closed in on the boys so nobody overheard their discussion. "God damnit, I knew it. So, as you heard, Castle had a fight with Alexis earlier and he's taken off."

Both men cringed. They were silent for a moment, all of them aware Castle was probably experiencing a reaction from the night before. Ryan wiped perspiration from his face using his gym towel.

"And you haven't heard from him?" Ryan queried, "You seem to spend personal time together."

Beckett shook her head. "Not since he left the Precinct. Like, we debriefed over a couple of drinks last night but …" she momentarily trailed off in thought, "I'm wondering where he would go to lick his wounds, to celebrate this new lease on life he has going. He was pretty elated this morning," she said as her mind reflected on how he had made love to her with a whole new demeanour, like he was empowered, amorous, strong, assertive, a lion. It had been a hellishly sexy side of him, and their experience had been unbelievably pleasurable.

"Kate?"

"Huh?" She focussed on Esposito.

"Where you gone?"

"I was just wondering where he might be. He has a lot of friends he talks about all the time, but he only has a handful of what he calls close friends. One of them is a chef. If he's in town, Castle might have reached out to him. They drink heavily, talk a lot and cook when they get together."

"You know this for sure?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah." She knotted her brow, confident that's where Castle might be. "He, umm, introduced me to him a while back when I was staying at his loft. He's a famous chef, on TV, but he's gone a lot traveling and filming all around the world. It's a strong shot in the dark but I don't have his number. However, I do know where the guy lives."

"Let's get showered, and we'll go find him." Ryan said, and immediately they rushed off to the changerooms.

They left the gym trying to contact Castle on his cell phone, but he didn't pick up or respond to texts.

With the use of specific landmarks and an alcohol compromised memory, Beckett was able to find her way to the apartment Castle had taken her to one evening several months back.

The team of three friends accessed the apartment building in Soho by showing the doorman their police badges. The group took the elevator to the penthouse suite and walked to the doorway Beckett remembered standing outside of. Castle had carried a cane basket that contained a few bottles of top end wine. They had been able to smell the food his friend had been preparing from the hallway. Feeling hungry she pressed the doorbell and waited, her eyes on the boys who returned the stare. "He's a good chef," she murmured.

After a quarter minute, with no one answering, Esposito said, "Press it again. Might be asleep."

Beckett complied. They could hear the doorbell loud and clear from inside the apartment.

"It's loud enough to wake the dead," she hissed, "And its half twelve. Could he still be at work? He does own a restaurant but …"

"It would be closed." Ryan replied. "This guy's not home."

They headed back to the elevators. "Where does Castle go, Chica? Who else does he run with?"

Kate's conscience poked at her because it was she Castle kept company with. "Alexis. A few writers, the mayor, I don't know. Me sometimes."

"Where do you go with him? Bars?"

"I have a few in mind Espo that we can head over to. We've been to the movies. Diners." She checked her phone for any calls or texts. Only Martha had texted to update her, that Castle was still out. In the elevator Beckett texted her, asking if she had any ideas of where he might go. She only mentioned a men's club but she didn't think he would go there at all nowadays. By nowadays, Beckett understood Martha was saying because he was dating her, he wouldn't go near those places. Beckett knew he wouldn't be at a men's club unless he needed to find safety.

Two hours were spent in search of Castle. They hit all the places they knew he liked to frequent. No one had seen him, and they didn't find him.

About 2.30 am, Esposito dropped Beckett off at her apartment building and continued home. On her way inside, she phoned Martha who immediately picked up. To find the house keys she juggled the phone, her gym bag, a plastic bag containing milk and breakfast. Once found, she pushed the key home in the door and twisted it.

"Martha? Has he shown up at home?"

"No. Nothing from him."

"Well. No luck for us either." Inside the apartment, she closed the door and turned the locks as she said, "We searched everywhere Martha. We didn't find him." The apartment felt cooler than the temperature she usually kept it at.

"Oh dear." Martha said. "It's so unlike him to go off like this."

Kate dropped her gym bag to the floor. "I'm sorry. Would he get a room in a hotel?" She shrugged herself out of her coat and discarded it on top of the gym bag.

"If he had to, yes, but he would stay with his girlfriend."

"That's meant to be me…" Kate timidly replied and turned to enter the kitchen. She squealed in surprise. Castle was untidily sprawled out on her sofa, his dress shirt unbuttoned and pulled from his jeans. For some odd reason the left Jimmy Choo shoe he'd given her was perched on his bare chest.

"Are you okay?" Martha asked as Kate crept across the living room towards Castle.

"I've found him," she whispered into the phone. "He's okay. He's passed out on my couch."

"Oh. Thank goodness. He must have thought you'd come home and waited for you. I'll let you deal with him. Thank you, Kate."

"I'll take care of him," she said. "The fight must have been bad."

"Their worst, Kate."

She inhaled deeply, "Okay. I'll deal with him. Good night, Martha."

She disconnected the call and left her phone on the coffee table in the company of his phone, his leather wallet, his notebook, a pen, an empty brown bottle and two glasses, one of which had the remnants of the whisky. She removed the shoe off his body and returned it to the box. He must have assumed she would come home and share a drink with him. He suddenly snored which startled Kate and disturbed his sleep. His left arm shifted.

She peered down at his face. For a fleeting moment she heard her brain pray their future kids would inherit his long fair eyelashes. He twitched his nose as though he sensed her proximity. She murmured, "Castle?"

She waited for his response, very tempted to block his nose. A mischievous smile appeared.

Using her right hand, she gave his shoulder a bit of a shove, just like she did when he snored too loudly. The stench of alcohol, smoke and stale cologne floated around him. Manly. Late night manly. Quite reminiscent of those college days she had long forgotten. His whiskers, now two days old were primed for providing her with unlimited sexual pleasure. She loved it when he rubbed his bristly chin over her skin especially down there, and often caught herself fantasizing about it. Sent her crazy, tipped her over the edge, and right now had her squeeze her knees together as her muscles spasmed.

"Fuck." She bit her bottom lip then murmured, "Sex would be great, babe, but you are way too gone to be of any use to me." She glanced to the bedroom door thinking about their collection of toys, contemplating that she might just have to go it alone.

She put her hand to his collar bone and gave him several more decent pushes to arouse him. "Castle." Louder again, "Rick?"

Absolutely nothing. She gently brushed her fingers down the side of his face, her concern for his well-being heightened by his unusual state. She stood up straight, took a moment to weigh up her options, then reached for the grey throw rug that hung over the back of the couch. She spread it over his body, ensured he was comfortable then made her way to the bedroom. He would follow her to bed sometime.

While she brushed her teeth, she thought about what she was going to tell the guys. There was no frigging way she could tell them that all the time they were out looking for Castle, he was quite possibly out cold on her couch. Intoxicated and asleep.

She turned the bed down listening to Castle snore. When she turned off the lamp and laid down in her bed, she closed her eyes. Exhausted, she fell asleep even with the long hoarse snores coming from the living room.

It wasn't long after, she woke to the sound of a man vomiting, a man who was trying to be as quiet as possible yet drastically failing. Not accustomed to it, she sat up on her right elbow and sleepily stared at the closed bathroom door. The light shined through the gap beneath it. His bedside lamp was on, and his side of the bed was turned down in readiness for retirement as she had done it which meant he hadn't made it to bed so far. A long deep groan that sounded like it stemmed from pain penetrated the walls and caused Kate to smirk with amusement. Castle was going to experience a smashing hangover later today.

The toilet flushed, seconds later the water ran in the basin. By the noise emanating from the bathroom, Castle was busy with thoroughly brushing his teeth. Kate punched up the pillow a bit and decided to pretend she had slept through his racket. It momentarily crossed her mind that a famous writer had passed out in her lounge room in a drunken state and consequently vomited in her bathroom. She cringed. It was also something she didn't wish to linger on, but it was a strong dose of reality that he was just a regular guy, like everyone else trying to cope with life.

And death.

It was the exact reason he was in that state. He was trying to deal with a very close scrape with death at the hands of another. There was a delightful and boyish sense of adventure in him, and he cruised through life with a general absence of his own mortality. Until yesterday. Castle needed time to process it as much as she needed time to deal with the life she took and the life she almost lost. His expression the second he realised she had to kill Coonan was scorched in her memory. So was Coonan's last expression. Castle had risked a lot when head butted Coonan. It had surprised and dislodged Coonan and provided her with the opportunity to take the shot. The flash of horror in Coonan's eyes, and the disbelief when he saw the blood bloom from his chest she would never forget.

"Fuck," she puffed out. Sighed.

She laid right down, listening to Castle swear about the pathetic state of his head. He must have been in the medicine cabinet in search of painkillers. He would come to bed soon. Would he want to talk? He would. For sure. He could always strike up a conversation. At this hour of the night, she wasn't interested in a discussion, of learning about what he remembered of his evening getting smashed, nor did she feel like sex anymore. She didn't think he would either especially with the headache he currently complained to himself about. He had certainly got wasted wherever he had been, clearly had fun, but he had also returned home without any lipstick stains on his face or shirt. There was nothing for him to confess or be guilty about. She was happy with that.

She was losing consciousness when he came from the bathroom, being as quiet as a drunk man could manage to be. He stubbed his toe on something solid, squawked in pain then hushed himself as he continued a wobbly path to his side of the bed. There was a grunt of satisfaction when he noticed the bed was turned down for his impending arrival.

"Nice," he hummed to himself as he got in beside Kate. A large hand that felt more like a bear's paw, found its gentle place on Kate's left hip.

He whispered, "Baby. You awake?"

Kate remained still thinking about whether she would answer him.

"I can hear you thinking," he murmured sweetly and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. His teeth scraped her skin which sent a shiver down her spin. "Baby," he cooed.

A smile bloomed. He was such a cheeky shit. She said with a soft but high tone. "I'm sleeping."

"Sleep talking. I see." He wriggled up closer until he was spooning Kate's long lean body. His solid form fitted against her perfectly. "You are so warm for you."

"How's the head?" She asked into the darkness.

He smirked. "Been better." He pulled the blankets over their shoulders, laid his head on the pillow and after he had settled, he gave her hip a light squeeze. "I'm sorry."

Kate laid still wondering why he apologised, what he was thinking about. She had to give it to him, her boyfriend was a kitten on the rare occasions he was intoxicated. A push over. He got all lovey and smitten. There was no aggression, he didn't want to fight or watch sports with the boys. He preferred to be in the company of his girls. He would get all cuddly and affectionate with her. Where he'd been that night, she would have to wait to find out.

His body felt warm and comforting against hers. His left wandering hand slipped beneath her bed shorts, a hint of what he might be thinking about, anticipating and wanting. Although his fingers were a little clumsier than normal, he found where he wanted to be. His index slipped over the tiny bump of nerves. It caught her breath. Awakened her. He released a quiet moan of satisfaction, of arousal, and his pelvis rocked gently against her butt. Beckett's leaned into him, opened her thigh. That encouraged him momentarily and then his movement slowed. Seconds passed. He had completely still. When she heard his breathing morph into his usual sleep pattern, his fingers fell away and his forearm grew heavy on her hip.

"Castle?" She whispered.

He released a snore.

Kate sighed, decided to leave him be then relaxed for sleep to return.

TBC