May 17, 2011 (8w6d)
He stirred; the gentle movement of the mattress was enough to rouse him from his sleep.
With eyes still fused shut with fatigue, his hand reached out instinctively, brushing along the empty space.
He sighed, disappointment consuming him. Yet another morning, waking up confused because his dreams had felt so real. He rolled toward the empty space, burying his face in the pillow that smelled like her. A reminder that last night wasn't a dream.
He lifted his head, squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to his newly awake state. "Kate?" he quietly called.
"I'm here," she answered as she stepped out of the en suite.
He took in her form as she leaned against the door frame. "You're leaving," he concluded, seeing that she was fully dressed in her clothes from yesterday, while he was stark naked.
"I'm going to head into the precinct," she explained, walking toward the bed. "I'll see you in a little bit?"
He nodded, happy that she was seemingly accepting their compromise without further argument.
She placed her knee on the mattress beside him, leaning down to give him a short, sweet kiss.
With a smile, she left.
He woke again an hour later.
After too long in the shower, trying to wake himself up and ready himself for the day ahead, he made his way to the kitchen.
Starting up the coffee machine, he grabbed two to-go cups from the cabinet above and began to prepare their coffees for the morning. Double strength for him, decaf with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla for her. Making these had become routine over the years, like brushing his teeth or lacing his shoes.
"Where's Detective Beckett?" Alexis asked as she plodded down the stairs, dressed and ready for school.
"Work."
She looked at the to-go cups. "I thought she asked you not to go in anymore."
He hesitated, adding two pumps of vanilla syrup to one of the cups. He could say he was just dropping the coffee off. But he knew she wouldn't believe that.
"We came to an agreement," he admitted.
"Dad-"
"I'm done," he cut her off with his promise. "I just need to finish this case first."
"This case is what's dangerous," Alexis argued. "This case is what she's trying to protect you from."
"Hey, maybe the two of you can bond over your mutual distaste for my autonomy," he added, sarcastically.
"I know you're joking, but it's winning her some serious brownie points." She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and headed toward the front door.
"Love you, Pumpkin," he called as she crossed the loft.
When she reached the door, she turned back to him, frustration marring her face. "Love you, too," she huffed before leaving.
Her head was a mess. A frantic, blurred whirlpool of... fear. Lockwood was out there somewhere. Waiting, watching? Biding his time until he was ready to attack. And she knew... she just knew that she was next on his list.
They had been going over what they had so far. Nothing new, really. Just more of the same. Just more proof to back her theorising that she was next.
"We know that your mom was killed because she was working to free a mobster who was wrongfully convicted of the murder of an undercover Federal officer, Bob Armen."
Castle's voice brought her from her thoughts. She could hear it in his tone, he had a theory.
"We know that the real killers were renegade cops who were practicing their own form of street justice by kidnapping mobsters for ransom."
She ignored how weak and shaky she felt and forced herself to her feet, joining the boys and Captain Montgomery at the murder board, where they listened to Castle presenting his theory.
She could hear the careful measurement in his voice, but the hope was still there. And that was enough, for now.
"These guys were also working for somebody, somebody big. Somebody who would stop at nothing to keep his identity a secret."
"Which means there's still one loose thread out there," she added, relieved that she might not be the next target. Not with this other player out there.
"The third cop," Castle agreed. "The man that Joe Pulgatti saw in the alley with John Raglan and Gary McCallister the night Bob Armen was killed. Whoever this guy is, if he's still around, he knows who's behind this whole thing."
She couldn't mask the relief in her voice as she spoke. "Which makes him Lockwood's next target."
She felt a load had been lifted from her shoulders. She was lightweight, floating, safe.
"But we looked through the reports. There's no mention of this third cop," Esposito clarified.
Esposito's scepticism was enough to bring her crashing down at a dizzying speed. Her stomach turned, like she was in a free fall.
"Just because he's not mentioned in it, doesn't mean he wasn't there."
She closed her eyes, scrubbed her hand over her face and tried to swallow down the bile rising in her throat.
"Excuse me," she muttered as she turned and began to walk away.
"She doing okay?" Ryan asked Castle.
"My third cop theory is exactly that, a theory. With Lockwood on the loose, she's at risk," he explained, his eyes following her as she briskly walked toward the restrooms.
There was no doubt about where she was headed or why. For now, the boys were contributing her nausea to her anxieties, but he wasn't sure how long that could last.
"On top of that, her mother's case just went to hell in a hand basket. How would you be feeling?" Montgomery added.
The boys stood in silence for a moment, marinating in their concern for her. If there was one thing they could all agree on, it was that they would do just about anything to help ease her burden.
"Put a detail on her," Montgomery ordered, breaking the silence that surrounded them.
"She's not gonna like that," Ryan warned.
"I don't really care," Montgomery stated. "Lockwood's not getting anywhere near her. Not on my watch. She doesn't need to know. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear," Esposito answered before moving to his desk to begin the process. He already had a list of names forming in his head. Cops with extensive training, cops that he trusted.
Ryan walked to his computer, getting back to work, and Captain Montgomery went back to his office, leaving Castle standing alone at the murder board.
He felt useless: everybody was off doing something, and all he could do was wait.
He considered going after Kate, poking his head into the women's restroom to make sure she was alright in there. But, ultimately, he decided that wouldn't be the smartest decision.
He walked over to her desk, lowering himself into her seat. He had to do something. Anything. So he went back to the beginning, pulling up Armen's case file.
Twenty minutes had passed before Kate made her way back to the bullpen. Castle looked up from her computer screen. For a moment he worried that she would scold him, as she had many times before, for being at her desk, using her computer. But that fear was replaced with a new one when he took in her appearance.
She looked like hell: pale face, darkened under eyes, tired stance. He could tell it was taking everything she had in her to keep it together right now.
He rose from the chair, gaining the attention of Ryan and Esposito. They looked at him, then followed his gaze to her.
"Just got a call from the Jersey State Police." She stopped to take a steady breath, not even trying to mask her lack of composure. "They found the chopper."
The team sprung into action, grabbing whatever gear necessary before heading toward the elevator.
Castle, of course, was relieved that they had a lead, something to look into that might actually give them answers to the hundreds of questions that remained unanswered. However, he couldn't fully fight off the heavy feeling in his chest that this was all coming to an end, and not in the way they wanted.
He knew, all too well, that she was clinging to this for dear life. If this didn't pan out... well, he didn't want to think about how that would affect her all-too-delicate psyche.
As they piled into the elevator, he used his body to force her toward the back corner, behind Ryan and Esposito and, therefore, out of their sight. For the 14 seconds it took to travel to the underground garage, he allowed her to lean into his side: a short reprieve from the energy she was burning by simply trying to hold herself upright.
The elevator came to a halt, the stop in motion triggering another wave of nausea. She closed her eyes, breathed through her nose to fight it off.
"Do you need a minute?" Castle asked, brushing stray tendrils of hair from her face.
She opened her eyes to Ryan and Esposito studying her carefully. She pulled away from Castle, a hand to his arm to steady herself.
"I'm fine," she said. "Let's go."
She had asked to be alone, said that she just needed a little space.
He tried not to read too much into that.
And, despite how much he loathed the idea right now, he could respect her need for space. His mind screamed in her absence, his heart yearned to be near her, but he would respect her need for space.
Montgomery had a detail on her. Cops specially selected by Detective 'anything less than special-ops isn't good enough' Esposito, at that. If she wasn't safe under their watchful eye, there was nothing he could do to protect her.
He swallowed down that bitter pill. He couldn't protect her. No matter how hard he tried, he was no match for trained killers.
He was so far out of his league with this one. He didn't know what to do, how he could help. He just wanted to make it all go away.
He pulled the small box from his safe, taking it to the dining table to laying out its contents in front of him: Johanna Beckett's murder file. Pictures, reports, statements. He had gone over it all a hundred times, Beckett too. At least half a dozen people had studied this file over the years and found nothing. But he couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
So, for the sake of doing something, he started to read through every report, every scrawled note, study every photo, as if it were the first time.
He hadn't even realised that hours had passed until Alexis came downstairs to check on him.
"Beckett's mom?" she asked as she took the seat across from him.
He looked up from the photos to the refreshing sight that was his daughter. "Yeah."
"I can't imagine what it must be like for her, solving murders and bringing closure to all those families, but never to herself."
His daughter was a bleeding heart. Stubborn, passionate and occasionally a little arrogant, but she felt things so deeply, so purely. He'd do everything he could to protect her, even just a little bit, from the horrors of the real world. Starting by not having crime scene photos sprawled across the table. He slid the photographs into a stack and slipped them into their folder.
"It's easier in my books. The just are rewarded, the wicked are punished. Unfortunately, real life isn't that easy."
She smiled softly. "Are you doing okay?"
He reached across the table, grabbing her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm okay. Are you?"
She looked at him, her face expressing her confusion at his concern.
"I know you weren't happy this morning, about my decision to keep working this case."
Alexis shrugged. "I got over it."
"Got over it? When do you ever just get over it?"
He let out a slight chuckle, trying to ease the tension, but Alexis's solemnity wouldn't relent.
"Alexis?"
"She was so scared, Dad," she blurted, her voice was shaky and filled with emotion. "I've never seen her like that."
He rose from his seat, rounding the table to be next to her.
As soon as she realised what he was doing, she stood and crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his chest.
"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid," she mumbled into his shirt.
"I-"
His promise was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Alexis pulled away from him, looking across the loft.
"Beckett?" she wondered aloud.
"I don't think so," he said, moving toward the door.
He inched his face toward the door, looking through the peephole. The man on the other side wasn't anyone he knew, but he recognised that face from somewhere. He took a moment to think, to try and figure out where he may have seen this man, to quickly cross any association to this case off the list before he opened his home up to the man. After a few seconds, and nothing flagging in his memory, he opened the door.
"Can I help you?"
"I hope so." The man smiled, the kind of half-crooked smile you'd expect from the protagonist in an old Western movie. "I'm Jim Beckett, Kate's father."
Castle suddenly realised where he had seen the man's face before. He was older now, but this was definitely the man that graced Kate's shelves in photographic form. His mind was instantly filled with a flurry of questions - his inner writer being both a blessing and a curse - but only two were prevalent right now.
Why was Jim Beckett at his loft at this time of night?
Did he know about, well, everything?
Castle snapped from his thoughts. "Right, sorry, come on in."
He stepped to the side, allowing the man to enter his home. He watched as Jim looked around, studying his surroundings, the same way Kate had the first time she had come here.
"Can I get you a drink?" Castle asked as he closed the door. "Tea? Coffee?"
"Coffee would be great, thank you." The man smiled politely as he pulled his eyes from the exuberance of Castle's home.
Walking toward the kitchen, he noticed that Alexis had, thankfully, had the foresight to pack away the case file that had been spread across the dining table. Carrying the box, she began to make her way toward Castle's office.
"Jim, this is my daughter, Alexis," Castle introduced as he started up the coffee machine. "Alexis, this is Detective Beckett's father, Jim."
"Nice to meet you." Alexis tucked the box under her arm, stepping forward to shake Jim's hand.
The man smiled, appreciating the teen's respectful gesture. "You too."
"I'll give you two some privacy," she said, walking into the kitchen. She placed the box onto the kitchen bench, giving it a gentle tap.
"Thank you," Castle mouthed, silently.
"Night, Dad."
"Night, Pumpkin."
She placed a kiss to her father's cheek, before disappearing up the stairs.
"Have a seat, if you'd like," Castle called over his shoulder to Jim.
"I'm right, thanks."
As Castle began gathering the coffee and cups, Jim went back to browsing his surroundings. With a few pushed buttons, the machine whirred into action and Castle turned back to face Kate's father.
"How old is your daughter?" Jim asked.
"She's seventeen."
"Senior?" he enquired.
"She's almost finished her junior year. I find myself wondering where the time has gone, you know? She's looking into colleges."
Jim let out a soft laugh. "It gets away from you. Does she know where she wants to go?"
The coffee machine beeped, indicating its completion. Castle moved across the kitchen to retrieve their drinks.
"She's looking into Stanford." He carried the ceramic cups, motioning toward the dining table.
Jim understood Castle's silent request and took a seat at the table. "Stanford is a good school," he said, accepting the cup that Castle placed in front of him.
"Yeah, so I've heard," he said with a smile as he took his seat across from Jim.
They both took a long, slow sip from their coffees, buying them some time to transition from their small talk to whatever it was Jim had come here to talk about. He knew the man hadn't trekked across the city to discuss Alexis's schooling options.
"I feel like I already know you, Rick," Jim said, breaking the silence. "I've heard a lot of great things about you from Katie."
"Really?" Castle asked, surprised. He really didn't think Kate would have talked about him much, especially to her father. But he liked this newfound knowledge.
"Really," Jim confirmed, amused by Castle's surprise. But his amusement didn't last long, not with the thoughts consuming his mind. "So, how's she holding up?"
"It's kind of tough to tell with her, you know? She doesn't flinch."
Jim laughed softly. Yeah, he knows.
Castle listened as intently as possible as Jim shared a story of when Kate was young - something about being afraid of the dark but refusing a night light. It's not that he didn't appreciate the insight to her early life, to what she was like as a child, it's that, he wanted to know why Jim was here, unannounced, at this time of night. He could tell there was something on the man's mind. Something he wasn't saying.
"This man she's chasingā¦" Jim finally acknowledged his reason for being here. "How dangerous is he?"
Castle considered sugar-coating it. Kate had obviously spoken to her father about the case, told him what was going on - or at least some version of it. But he could see it on the man's face. The fear. The desperation. He wouldn't be here, knocking on a stranger's door, if he didn't have reason to suspect something was wrong.
"He's a trained killer," Castle said before he could stop himself. Kate would be mad. Fuming. But he owed it to Jim - one father to another - to tell him the truth.
Jim shook his head, processed the news. "I've already lost my wife over this."
Castle had to look away; his heart broke for the man.
"You can stop her."
His eyes shot back to the man before him. You can stop her.
Did Jim think that he hadn't tried? That he wanted her to be chasing killers, circling the rabbit hole?
"I tried-"
"She cares about you. I know you care about her, too. She told me-" he stopped, took a calming breath. "She's trying to prove to you that you are her priority. If you ask her to stop, she will. She won't risk losing you over this."
"Even if I could get her to stop, she would grow to hate me for standing in the way."
The excuses he had spent too long relaying to himself over the past few days sounded so pathetic when he said them out loud, but he knew they were rooted in truth. She wouldn't forgive him.
Jim nodded. "But, she would be safe."
"Do you understand what you're asking me to do?" he asked, unable to hide the anguish in his voice. "What you're asking me to give up?"
"I do. And I'm sorry, but don't you agree that so much more is at risk."
Castle understood Jim's thought process. Of course, he would much rather Kate be alive and well, but mad at him. Especially given the alternative. He had already accepted, to some degree, that this scenario may be what his future held for him. But that didn't make it any easier. That didn't make him want to charge toward it without exhausting every other option first.
He wanted to be furious at Jim for what he was asking, for even suggesting that he throw away everything he had worked so hard for. But he understood.
He would do the same for Alexis in a heartbeat.
"It wouldn't be forever," Jim continued. "She'd come around, eventually, she always does."
Castle wished he had Jim's faith in Kate's ability to forgive, he really did.
"I wouldn't be here if I thought there was any other way."
He did intend to give her space. But after his conversation with Jim, his need to see her trumped everything else.
He tried to think up a valid reason to be knocking on her door in the middle of the night, but nothing came to him. He just needed to be here.
She opened the door, keeping the lower half of her body guarded behind it.
"What are you doing here?" she asked without greeting him.
"I just wanted to see you," he confessed, deciding the truth was better than any excuse he could think of.
She wasted no time, stepping aside for him to enter her apartment.
He heard the door kick shut behind him, followed by the turning of the deadbolt and the rattle of the chain lock.
He turned to face her noting, for the first time, the gun in her hand, glued to her thigh.
She was scared. So was he.
"You doing okay?" he asked, despite the obvious answer.
She looked worn down, exhausted, like she hadn't slept in months.
She nodded, slowly. Even the simple act of moving her head up and down seemed to drain the energy from her. She just wanted this all to be over with already. She didn't know how much longer she could hold onto hope, not when every theory they had seemed to lead them nowhere.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered, placing her gun down on her coffee table. "I know I asked for some space, but I'm glad you came."
He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them and enveloping her in his arms.
He couldn't help but think about his conversation with Jim. He tried to ignore the anger and frustration the thoughts provoked.
This whole situation was so excruciatingly unfair.
Why did he have to be the one constantly sacrificing to appease some crooked-cop playing the role of a merciless God.
"You know, there's no shame in asking to be taken off the case, right? You can distance yourself from all of this."
"And make it someone else's problem?" She pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes. "I can't do that, Castle."
"Your personal connection to this case is what's put a target on your back, Kate. Any other cop is just doing their job, but you, you're a real threat to them."
"Is that why you're here?" she asked, her voice cracking with a hint of betrayal. "To ask me to stop?"
They made a deal: she would allow him to stay, to help her, not to try and stop her. She knew that eventually they might get to that point, but not yet. She was fine, she wasn't throwing herself into this headfirst, she was doing everything he had asked of her.
"No, I just-"
She silenced him by gently placing her palm to his cheek, easing him with the delicate brush of her thumb along his cheekbone.
"I know you don't trust my instincts with this but we're close, Castle, I can feel it. I'm finally going to get the answers I've been looking for."
He could see it, the small, shimmering glint of hope in her eyes as she spoke. It was heavily clouded by her exhaustion, but it was there. She truly meant what she said, she truly believed that they were making progress, not just running circles.
"I need a little more time. Just a few more days," she bargained with him. "And, if we're still chasing ghosts, I'll step back. I promise."
He stared into her eyes - a hazel-green sea of emotion - for what felt like forever. Fear, hope, pain, trust.
One more day, he told himself. One more day, and then he would do whatever was necessary to end this.
"Okay," he relented, slowly nodding his head.
He couldn't decide if he was being selfish or altruistic by giving into her, by putting what she wanted ahead of her father's desperate plea for help.
One more day didn't seem unreasonable: not when she had spent her entire career, her whole adult life, working toward this.
She stepped back into him, and his arms instinctively wrapped around her again. He would savour this while he could.
"You should try to get some sleep," he said, rubbing circles into the tense muscles of her back.
He felt her face rub against his chest as she nodded in agreement.
He pulled back slightly, slipping his hand under her chin and tilting her face toward him.
She offered a soft smile, before craning her neck to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Then another, and another.
"Can you stay?" she whispered against his lips, between kisses. "Please?"
"Of course."
She smiled, picking up her gun from the coffee table and tucking it into the waistband of her pants, at her lower back.
She reached for his hand and led him to her bedroom.
He watched as she placed her gun in the safe that resided in her wardrobe. Usually, he would take pride in the fact that his presence offered her a sense of security, that she felt safe enough with him to not have to sleep with her gun by her side. But not tonight.
"My backup is in the nightstand," she told him, reading the cautious expression on his face.
He climbed into bed after her, cosying up beside her.
With her head cradled in the crook of his elbow and her back pressed firmly against him, he held her tight. Within minutes, she had relaxed enough to drift off to sleep.
He basked in this moment: the sound of her even breaths, the feel of her body against his, the swell in his chest as he imagined doing this every single day for the rest of his life.
But he knew that they were in for a turbulent few days, at the very least. Nothing was certain, nothing was promised.
He wouldn't take anything for granted.
He slid his hand over her hip, to the front of her body, stopping when he reached the firm curve that was so subtly starting to form under her navel.
"I love you," he whispered, placing a kiss to her temple.
