[ where it begins ]

[fanofthegenre]

She needs to change. She keeps a spare set of clothes at the 12th - but they're meant for the shifts where she pulls an all-nighter and doesn't have time to go home.

They're not for this, for the red that stains the white of her sweater - someone else's (I'm fine, Castle, it's not my blood). She was just supposed to have a conversation. She'd hoped it was one that would bring her a little closer to the truth.

Instead, she's got one more murder on her hands, and more questions than answers.

She's not expecting the door to the Bar when she walks in, but a part of her is almost relieved. She needs a place to decompress, to think about her options and to consider her next move before she heads back out into her world, into the place where all of it becomes real again and everyone's counting on her to step up, relying on her to tell them where to go from here.

Because, right now, Beckett's not even sure she knows what to do.

Comments

[trigger_man]

"I do have some experience with investigations, Beckett. My being there doesn't automatically mean I'll be a distraction," he says, tersely, but his anger and frustration is starting to cool for the moment.

[fanofthegenre]

"I know that, it's just - "

She pauses, sighs. It's getting harder for her to keep up a front as more time passes.

"Jack, if anything happened to you - "

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, and if anything happened to you..." he says, leaving the same pause, as he's pretty sure she's leaving out the same words he is.

[fanofthegenre]

"And that's exactly why you're not going out there," she hisses, insistent, palm braced against the bartop even as she inclines in his direction.

[trigger_man]

Jack's jaw hardens. He's tempted to argue that that's exactly why he is going out there with her, but then that would send the argument in the same circles as before.

"Fine," he says tersely. "You need to get changed."

Not that he's entirely done with the argument.

[fanofthegenre]

She opens her mouth, fully prepared to counter the anticipated response - and then stops, frowning, brow furrowed as she just stares at him, and finally shuts up and nods.

"Yeah," she murmurs, looking down at her sweater. "Yeah, I've got - clothes. Upstairs."

[trigger_man]

"Go ahead," he says, jerking his chin toward the stairs. "I'll get you a coffee."

[fanofthegenre]

"Alright."

She's got at least one fresh change of clothes in her room, and she takes the stairs quickly. There's no sense in trying to wash the bloodied sweater at home, but maybe, somehow, through the magic of Bar, it'll be good as new.

She can hope for that much right now, at least.

By the time she comes back downstairs, she's changed out the sweater and jacket for a blue blouse, hair brushed out long over her shoulders, and she scans the bar for him.

[trigger_man]

Jack's moved to a table, a glass of whiskey in front of him and a coffee in front of an empty chair for her.

His mood hasn't really improved mush, either.

[fanofthegenre]

She doesn't need to be a mind-reader to sense that part isn't about to change any time soon, at least.

Taking the seat across from him, both hands move to encircle the coffee mug, and she lifts it to her lips, sipping, then exhaling softly.

"Thanks."

[trigger_man]

"You're gonna need it."

Jack takes a long sip of his drink. "Any idea where you're going to start?"

[fanofthegenre]

"Well, the shot came from the building across the street - fourth floor," she explains, her hands encircling the mug a little tighter.

"But whoever murdered Raglan must've been following him, so I sent one of my guys to talk to his neighbors, see if they'd noticed anyone hanging around."

[trigger_man]

"If he's a sniper, chances are he followed Raglan without anyone even noticing him. He didn't leave any evidence at the shooting site either, I'm assuming."

[fanofthegenre]

"No," she sighs, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I haven't gotten confirmation on that yet, but it wouldn't surprise me."

[trigger_man]

"What exactly did Raglan get to tell you before he was shot?"

[fanofthegenre]

"That he made a mistake. A long time ago."

She looks down at the mug.

(there's something about the way ceramic warms your hands)

"He did something, nineteen years ago, and somehow, down the line, my mother was murdered because of it."

[trigger_man]

"Did something on a case? Covered something up or manipulated evidence? Where would those files be?" Jack asks.

[fanofthegenre]

"I don't know," she sighs.

"He was shot before he could get to the details of just what it was that went wrong."

[trigger_man]

"Guess the first step is to find the case he mentioned, nineteen years ago. Something that connects with your mother somehow."

[fanofthegenre]

"And who better to get the truth from than the people he used to work with, right? If I can even track one of them down after all this time."

She quickly takes another sip of coffee.

"Either way, it's a start."

[trigger_man]

"His old cases will have to mention every cop that worked with him. From there, NYPD has to have some kind of pension records, right?" He mirrors her action, taking a sip of his coffee and wishing it was an Irish.

"Yeah, it's a start."

His main worry is how far she's going to get down this trail before someone decides she's getting too close.

[fanofthegenre]

"If they've got a record of it, we'll find it. But I have a sinking feeling that Raglan did a lot of things off the books back then, and unless I can sit someone down who was a personal eyewitness, I won't be able to get any answers in a file or on record."

She leans back in her chair, fingers tapping on the side of her mug.

"A couple hours ago, I thought this was going to be just another day."

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, they usually start that way."

He remembers the feeling well; that feeling of starting another day completely unaware of what's about to hit you until you're knee-deep in it. Playing chess with Kim and slinging his arm around Teri's shoulders as they went to talk to Kim about her disrespecting her mother. Waking up with Audrey curled next to him, trying to keep their hands off each other and get dressed for the day so they wouldn't be late, make her father suspicious. Having breakfast with Diane, his biggest problem dealing with Derek's attitude towards him.

Those little everyday moments that made you fall into complacency, made you look back later and wonder how everything could change so much in just a few heartbeats.

[fanofthegenre]

It's the kind of moment that rings eerily true of the day her mother died - a day that, even up to now, she can remember as strongly as if it had happened just yesterday, when she and her father had come home and found Raglan waiting for him. He'd looked older, at the diner, been older - but, interestingly, maybe ironically, the haggard expression in his gaze was still the same as it had been all those years ago.

She glances to Jack.

If I could, I'd have you right there with me.

"Can I show you something?"

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, what?" Jack asks, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.