Family Ties - A Castle fanfiction

Chapter 8: Unremembered Scars

"So you're telling me she had sex with someone and she doesn't remember it?"

Castle and Beckett were at Beckett's desk in the precinct, coffees in hand. Beckett sighed.

"She has a whole eight hour time-slot that she has no memory of. Between midnight and eight AM she's got nothing. But I don't think she had sex with the guy. More like -"

"- she was raped," Castle finished for her. "Which would explain..."

Beckett nodded.

"But we'll have to wait and see what the medical team says," she sighed. "She's with them now. They shouldn't be too long."

She dropped her head into her hand. "It just keeps getting worse," she murmured, allowing herself to slip for a moment into despair. "I don't know what to do."

Castle thought for a moment. He wheeled his chair next to Beckett's, and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him.

"Hey."

He held out his arms, and Beckett hugged him, grateful for his support. He held her for a few moments, then she drew back.

"Thanks Castle."

"Hey, sometimes people just need a hug."

The desk phone rang and Beckett picked it up.

"Beckett," she said curtly, as she always did. She listened for a minute, then nodded.

"We'll come down right away. Thanks Lanie."

She replaced the phone.

"Lanie and the medical team finished up with Leslie. They want me down there. You coming?"

Castle looked somewhat surprised.

"Do you want me to? Is that okay?"

Beckett rolled her eyes.

"It's a medical report Castle, not the examination. Come on. I might need another hug."

"Let's go."

*

Downstairs was the medical department, located frighteningly - and conveniently - close to the morgue.

Beckett and Castle got off the elevator to find Lanie waiting for them.

"I thought you only dealt in dead people," Castle said to her.

"Well sometimes I do living examinations as well," she answered.

"Is she okay?" Beckett asked, ignoring Castle completely. There was something desperate in her voice. Lanie looked at her sympathetically.

"She's very shaken up, but she'll be alright. Here's the report."

She handed Beckett a thin folder of papers.

"Bruising between the ankle and knee on both legs, and on the forearms, as well as on the right side of her ribcage. Defensive wounds. Apart from that, there's also the laceration on the outermost side of her right knee, which was treated last night at the hospital. We did find traces of alcohol and some kind of drug in her system that we haven't yet been able to identify. We've sent samples to the lab for testing."

Beckett looked taken aback.

"She was drinking?!"

"She doesn't remember drinking anything alcoholic, or taking any drugs, for that matter. It's likely our killer dosed her with both."

"Do you think that drug was what our murderer used to inhibit Leslie's memory?"

Lanie shrugged.

"It's highly likely, especially with the alcohol in the mix too, but until we know what it is, we can't be certain. It's also possible that her memory loss was caused by something else."

"Like what?" Castle asked.

"Sometimes, when a person experiences something traumatic, the brain prevents that memory from being accessed. It's the body's way of coping," Lanie explained.

"Getting back to her condition," Beckett cut in, turning the conversation back to its original path.

"Right," Lanie said. She sighed regretfully. "From what we found, we've been able to conclude that she was sexually assaulted."

Beckett's jaw clenched.

"Presence of sperm was detected so we did further testing, and we have a sample which we might be able to get a DNA reading from. The pregnancy and STD tests both came back negative. She suffered bruising, but no other injury as a consequence that we could find. She'll be sore for a few days, but she'll recover."

Beckett shook her head, holding back tears. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reclaiming her calm.

"Can I see her?"

Lanie nodded and pointed her through a door across the hall.

Castle stayed behind, waiting until Beckett had closed the door behind her to speak.

"I can't imagine going through that," he muttered. Lanie nodded.

"But if anyone can coach that girl through tough times, it's Beckett."

*

"Leslie?"

Beckett's voice was stark against the silence of the room. Leslie was sitting on the examination bench, knees drawn up, her head resting on her forearms while her hands were buried in her silver hair, clutching at her head as though she had a headache. She didn't respond.

Hesitating a moment, Beckett took in a subtle change in her niece. Her usual skirt and leggings had been replaced with jeans, and the blue bandana she favoured was absent. It somehow made Leslie seem less... Leslie.

Beckett closed the door behind her and walked over, placing a hand on Leslie's back as she sat down beside her.

"Leslie?"

Leslie turned her head away.

"Hey, Leslie," Beckett started carefully. "You don't have to hide from me. I'm just here to try and make things better."

"How are things supposed to get better?" Leslie whispered, still not looking at her. "It just keeps getting worse."

Beckett paused for a moment, recognising the words that had come out of her own mouth only minutes earlier.

"Because I'm not giving up. That's how."

Leslie stayed silent, so Beckett tried again.

"Leslie, I understand what you're going through," she said gently. "I've seen it before. I've dealt with it before."

She moved her hand to Leslie's head, stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Leslie, look at me."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Leslie turned her head to face her. Beckett took one of her hands firmly in her own. Her voice was stern when she spoke.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Leslie, understand? Nothing. And you have nothing to blame yourself for." Her firm tone softened again. "Nothing that happened on Friday night was your fault, Leslie. Promise me you'll remember that?"

Leslie swallowed a sob threatening to choke her, and nodded.

I - he - I don't understand... why," she blubbered. "Why would he - why did he -"

A new sob cut off her words, and she leant into Beckett's warm embrace, shaking tearfully.

"I don't know," Beckett admitted. "But that's what we're going to find out."