She closes her eyes as she leans back into the soft cushions of Castle's luxurious couch, listening to the soft chatter and laughs behind her at the dining table, the others pitching into the just delivered food, but she just needs a moment. A moment alone. Her world is spinning and not from her head wound, the antibiotics shot Lanie gave them burning hot in her veins.
663 days of nothing. And now so much within a few hours. She saved his life, he saved hers, she kissed him, he kissed her, she touched him, he touched her, they made out, for god's sake, and it felt so good. She knew the moment she saw him three days ago in the audience how very much her heart still belongs to him even though he walked away from her with his ex-wife, how much she missed him, how much there is still between them, and how much she wants more with him. It scares the hell out of her.
She can feel his presence before she can hear him. "You okay?" She opens her eyes to find his blue skies worried about her, making her heart leap. Maybe he didn't just play along. Maybe he felt the same for her.
"Yeah", she quietly exhales, "just needed a moment to breathe, to think, you know."
"I do. Can't quite wrap my head around everything that happened in the last hours." The smile he gives her is shaky, self-consciously, not at all what she's used from him. Where is his smug grin? Where the endless teasing about how she kissed him senseless, almost ravished him in that storage room, couldn't stop from touching him even in the safety – hah, presumed safety – of his car service? Even the memory of it makes her blood boil. But now is not the time to think about it, they need to solve this case before more innocent people are being hurt.
"Come on, let's solve this case." She slowly rises, trying not to upset her head too much, and accompanies him to the dining table, just as Montgomery scurries through the door, shakes of his coat and shudders, as if he want to get rid of the remnants of the press conference he just had to give.
Probably still reeling from the story he told the press about the spectacular accident that ended fatally on one of the busiest streets in Manhattan. A car with stuck pedals, couldn't stop accelerating, the brakes not responding, the driver could jump out at the last minute, but the two passengers tragically drowned that night in the Hudson. One of them known as the master of the macabre, Richard Castle, the other one a dancer named Kitten from the Club BURLESQUEIAN, they are currently talking to the owner to get her real identity to be able to inform her next of kin. Right now, it all looks like a tragic accident.
"I stationed some units around the loft, just to make sure that nothing would happen. The same at your apartment, Beckett. Did you have any problems sneaking in through the back door, Castle?" They all sit around the dining table in the loft, takeout and case files scattered over the table, as Kate takes a look at her team hiding her smile. Finally, they are all back together, instantly slipping back to their roles, their old patterns of teasing, pushing and pulling, building theory and Castle trying to make her laugh. It feels so easy, so light.
"No, sir. Me and my family have used it several times already to ditch the press. The one we used," he looks at Kate as if she were his accomplice in a thrilling action movie, making her heart sing, "is not officially a back door. I discovered it a while ago. It actually leads into the next building. I don't think that anybody is aware of that."
"Okay, tell me where it is and I'll station some there. Until we know more, you both stay here and only sneak out through this exit if necessary."
"But, sir–" Beckett starts to protest, but is cut off by his raised hand, causing Castle's face to fall. Damn. That's not what she wanted. She just feels that she needs to get out there again, watch the club, watch Barkley, learn more about him and his son, about the shipment, why the hell they wanted to kill them for it just because she asked too many questions and Castle witnessed them plotting her death. It doesn't make any sense. She was in disguise, no one would know that she was still alive. She doesn't need to be locked up. She needs to solve this case.
"It's an order, Beckett. I remember it worked perfectly a few years ago with the Dunn case. Now, let's solve that damn case. Uh, is that Chicken Kung Pao?" She hangs her head, Castle is avoiding her gaze, looking like a hit puppy.
Yes, you do. That's what he said two and a half years ago, when Montgomery sent her home after her apartment exploded and she complained to not have a home anymore. She'll never forget it, never forget how serious he was, how warm his home was, how welcomed she had felt, a part of his family. She secretly looks around the loft. It looks lifeless now, cold, lonely, even though nothing changed – but he changed. And she just made him retreat further into his shell. Later. She'll fix it later.
"Okay, guys, let's bring Castle up to speed," she says with a sigh, running her hands through her hair, wincing slightly when she touches the broken skin on her left. Damn, she already forgot. Lanie sends her a pointed look, but she waves her off. She'll go to the hospital later, this is more important now.
"Two years is a long time, Beckett. You sure about this?" Espo teases, but his gaze lies on her intently. He's not teasing. He wants to know if she's sure about having him back, sure about him being on this case, sure about him being back in her life. She sighs. No, of course, she's not sure. She hasn't even had time to catch a breath since he stumbled back into her life. But she needs him, needs his out-of-the-box thinking, needs his outlandish theories, needs her partner, even though she never allowed him to have that title.
"I am, but just for the sake of solving our attempted murder, how about you start there?" She's exhausted, her head is pounding like crazy, she just wants to curl up and sleep, but she knows she can't because someone tried to kill them and they are going to receive a shipment in … uh … twenty hours. "Guys, we only have twenty hours to find out what's worth killing two innocent people over just because one of them was too nosy and the other one at the wrong time at the wrong place. They don't take any risks and don't shy away from murdering an uninvolved celebrity. I'm a little bit personally offended here, so let's get those bastards, okay?"
"Gotcha, boss. Okay, so, the vic is one Murphy McGibbons, forty-two years old, worked in a big cleaning company in the buying department, he had no direct connections to the club." Espo starts to explain, Castle leaning forward in his chair, listening intently. She loves it when he is like this, so full in his mystery writer mode, trying to figure out the story.
"What about the company? Do they have connections to the club?" Espo and Ryan skim through their papers.
"Nope, didn't find any." Espo quickly concludes, but Ryan is still shuffling through his notes.
"Wait. They seem to have a subsidiary, that specializes in cleaning nightclubs. Midnight clean. According to the papers, they act completely independent from one another and our vic had nothing to do with the subsidiary, though. Beckett, what's the name of the cleaners you saw?" Ryan explains, having found what he was looking for, while Beckett confirms that it's the same company.
"You sure about that? Our vic worked in buying, maybe he ordered the supplies for subs, too?" Castle lets his gaze jump between the boys as if he is trying to convince them by looking at them only.
"What does it matter, Castle?" Espo scoffs irritated.
"What are you thinking, Castle? Let me in", his dumbfounded look confuses her – what does he think she means? – so she adds to clarify, "on your thoughts, your theory. Castle nods, oddly silent, before he starts speaking.
"We have a dead guy, knowing from the conversation I overheard that this guy was indeed killed by them, staged as an accident, they only made the mistake that they forgot his phone. So for one, there has to be something on it that might endanger them, second, the young guy did something to get you off their scent, so you won't keep looking, no idea what or how they know, but third – we know that they are awaiting a shipment, every club needs to be cleaned, typically after hours, not as early as 11 PM probably, but who knows? It wouldn't raise any suspicions if the cleaning truck had been there a bit earlier. Our vic worked in a cleaning company, was ordering for the whole company and maybe some subs, maybe secretly? What if the shipment comes from the cleaning firm? What if it's something the vic ordered for the club?"
"What do we know about that, Beckett? Have you seen the truck?" Montgomery chimes in around a few bites of Kung Pao, reminding Kate that she definitely needs to eat something soon. But her mind has already been running with Castle's theory, going through all the notes she made on her observations.
"I don't know, honestly. I've always been on stage at 11 PM. I made a note every day after the last performance that I saw the cleaning crew starting their work."
"You said earlier that at 11 PM everybody is on stage," Castle asks, scribbling something inelegantly on a notepad.
"Yeah, it's the main act with all performers, it's also the beginning of the closing acts, ended by Lady M."
"Give me some times here, Beckett." He snaps frustrated, shakes his hand with the pen – his left hand, she raises an eyebrow at his unusually harsh tone. What's going on?
"Uh. Main act from 11:00 to 11:15, then Sandra Dee 11:20 to 11:30, Marcy and the guys 11:35 to 11:45, and Lady M 11:50 to 12 AM, then most of the guests leave, some remain, but the cleaners start on the stage. Uh, the cleaners, yeah, uh… I saw them every day when we came back from the stage, not instantly, but between 11:20 and 11:30 according to my notes."
"15 Minutes for the shipment? Argh, damn, I need my murder board for that!" He curses, throws the pen across the room huffing in frustration, making her flinch at the sudden, unusual outburst before he hurries into his office. They all exchange a puzzled look before she gets up, to follow him, seeing him scurry around, collecting bottles and takeout containers, throwing them into the trash with a loud clatter.
The sight scares her, his office is a mess, but he's not a messy person, always tidier than hers. "Sorry about the chaos, I've been engulfed in a story the past days and since I live alone, I tend to – yeah, well, the murder board." He lives alone? He touches the TV next to his desk and it comes to life, with a few tabs he starts a new document, called "BURLESQUEIAN", and types what they just discussed, shouting here and there for some further information, as the others join him, sitting wherever they found space.
Kate takes the time to go back to the table with the food to finally grab something to eat, while the boys bring Castle up to speed and collect all information. The state of the loft, Castle's state scare her.
She's never seen him like this before. His place has always been warm and welcoming, clean and neat, she's way messier than him; but what scares her the most is the amount of bottles – mostly scotch and whiskey – he had to put away, plus he was heavily drunk when he visited the club the first time.
But today, he was completely sober, wasn't he? The experiences with her father make her cautious and hyperaware of any signs. His agitated state scares her even more now earlier she would've tied it to the accident and pain, but now? Maybe he's showing signs of withdrawal?
"You do know that the food doesn't magically jump on your fork on its own, right? You need to actively put it on the fork." Lanie's teasing voice startles her, and look at the empty fork flying uselessly in the air. "You alright? Is it your head or something – someone different? Ah, I see. It's Castle." Kate rolls her eyes, instantly regrets it at the throbbing in her head, and decides to just glare at her friend, feeling too naked for her liking.
"You really should be a detective, Lanie." She scoffs, poking in her food. "It's just … I know we haven't seen each other in two years and obviously a lot can happen, but he's not himself. He's always been calm under pressure, now he runs around like an angry bumblebee, snapping and throwing things. The mess in the office, all these bottles? He hasn't written anything in these two years, Lanie. Black Pawn dropped him. He just mentioned he lives alone."
"You think he might've become an addict like your dad?" Kate sighs, rubs her forehead, ignoring the ugly pull on her wound.
"I don't know. It's only been a few hours after two years of nothing. But I know the signs, Lanes, and what I see scares me. He's never been like this, he snarled at me, he threw a pen through his loft just because … I don't know? He was frustrated? I don't know what to do if he slips or if it's already too late. I don't know if I can do this once again."
"Then don't, Kate. He's not your responsibility, he's not your partner anymore, he's not your fiancé, that's Josh. He needs to sort this out on his own." Ah, damn, she needs to tell Lanie that she broke up with Josh.
"Yeah, uh, about that. I broke up with Josh earlier this evening." She quickly busies herself with finally eating something, suppressing a moan at how good it is.
Lanie almost screams, her gaze scrutinizing her. "You did what, girl? Why? No, wait. Castle walks back into your life on the same day you broke up with Josh, that's not a coincidence. Did you break up with him for Castle?"
"Shht, Lanie! It's not like that. Josh and I just don't work. I promise I'll tell you everything, but not here, not now." Now she's too worried about Castle and this case. He needs to sort this out on his own. Yeah, but how, if he's alone? When nobody is there to stop him from drinking himself to the ground? When nobody is there for him? She knows she can't watch him drink his loneliness away.
"Beckett?" His voice is calling her and with a faint sigh, she rises and takes her plate and best friend back to Castle's office.
"What have you got?"
"What do you know about Barkley? I just told the guys all I witnessed today. How could it all happen today? It feels so much longer." He bounces on his feet nervously, walking up and down, driving her crazy.
"Not much, honestly." She quickly summarizes all she learned today about him and his son, watching him closely as he flitters around the room, adding what she told him to his board. It's fuller than earlier but still looks way too empty. Suppressing a sigh, she comes closer, scoots on the edge of his desk, her hand touching a letter and she wants to shove it aside, but seeing the name, she takes a closer look. Paula Haas? Isn't that Castle's agent? Oh, no. She sued him – for fifteen million!-, and fired him as a client? Oh, Castle. She looks up only to find him looking at her, tension around his mouth, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he averts his eyes before she can apologize for snooping.
"I have this thought, that I cannot shake off. McGibbons had access to chemicals, right? What if this isn't about drugs, alcohol, or something similar, what if this is about building a bomb with liquid explosives? It's easy to get that for a cleaning company. And if they plan something big, that would explain that they murder everyone who could be a risk to their operation." Espo snorts, shakes his head in disbelief.
"Yeah, makes total sense, bro. What are you basing that on, huh? Have you spent too much time in your fictional world?" Kate's heart contracts at his words, feeling sorry for Castle. His theory is not that far-fetched.
"There might be something to it, Castle. Good thinking. So the shipment might be from the cleaning company, the timeframe fits and it's something they can easily transport through the building while all acts are on stage without raising suspicions. It's the best theory we have so far." Montgomery muses, and Kate expects a smug grin on Castle's face, but it stays strangely empty, almost motionless like a mask. "Ryan, Espo check the company and its sub, Midnight Clean. And get me everything you have on this Barkley and his son, Dean. Do we already have more on that Brad guy who drove Castle and Beckett into the Hudson?"
"Not yet, sir. Tori is checking his phone records and Karpowski is collecting everything on Barkley, his son Dean, and Brad. She's been on it since Beckett's call to her and Martha telling us about Gregory, should have something soon, they are also cross-checking every connection they might've."
"They might barely find something if I'm right", Castle mutters under his breath, causing Kate to sigh heavily. He's right. If their current behavior is any indication of how they operate, there might not be any connection.
"But we need something."
"I don't like that either. Something really shady's going on here. But there ain't much more we can do. I have people following Barkley and his son, Brad is still in holding until his innocence is 'proven', I'll put units on the cleaning company as well." Montgomery sighs, skimming his hand over his face, the exhaustion visible in his tired eyes. No wonder, they are nearing 3 AM now.
"We'll find something, Beckett. Ryan and I are heading to the precinct, checking everything we can", Espo lays his hand on her shoulder to calm her, before they stride out of the office.
"And I'm going to take you to a hospital to get your head checked out. I know someone who lets us jump the line." Lanie takes her arm, pulls softly, trying to coax her into leaving.
"What about Castle? His arm is more important than my head, you said yourself that he might not be able to write again if he isn't being treated properly." It's more than her worry about his arm, she's worried about him, what he might do when she's gone. Will he drink? Will he do something stupid?
"I'll be fine." Is all he says, still not looking at her, cradling his broken arm, looking at Lanie's makeshift cast instead. Her heart is heavy and she can't really tell why.
"It's too dangerous, Kate. He's been on the news for hours now."
"Uh, nice, that means my sales will skyrocket again," he jokes, showing a soft gleam of his old self, and her heart feels a little lighter, so she let's Lanie drag her into the hallway. Martha quickly approaches her, takes her hand into her own, and presses something cool and hard in her palm. "Your key, kiddo. So you get in later. I'll prepare the guest room for you."
"Oh, Martha, you don't have to, it's fi–" But Martha violently shakes her head, cups her hands and smiles at her.
"Nonsense, darling. We love having you back in our lives. You've been greatly missed," a shadow clouds her eyes, then she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Kate's cheek. "Take care, will you? I'll stay here as well tonight, so wake me if there's anything I can do." The elder woman drifts her eyes to Castle's office, sighing under her breath, before she softly pushes them out the door. "Hurry, so you get some sleep."
And hurry she does.
Let me know what you think so far from this story.
I really love exploring the relationship between Kate and Rick in this universe, think about how they might've changed in the past two years. I think it's Castle who suffered from losing the love of his life - not knowing at the time – and everybody and everything else that meant something to him because of a dumb decision. I just couldn't forget how crestfallen Castle was when Demming happened – and that only got worse in my head because he was being a coward, his mind caught up in "what ifs", his Beckett flashes giving him hell.
While Kate was for once spared from the trauma of being betrayed by her mentor, losing him, and being shot. I'm curious how she develops when she never had a reason to go to therapy and work out her issues to be more for Castle.
What do you think? Will this make their relationship easier or more difficult?