80. This is the story so far

Dr Burke had managed to escort Mr Castle out in good time before his next patient arrives. This efficiency allows him a few moments to contemplate what he has learned.  He starts with Mr Castle himself.  He is not what Dr Burke had expected.  It is possible that he is quite intelligent.  Not, of course, as intelligent as Dr Burke, whose doctoral thesis is still a reference work.  However, he appears to be both intelligent and wholly devoted to ensuring that Detective Beckett is made better.  Or, more succinctly, devoted to Detective Beckett. 

Also surprisingly for a completely untrained person, (so Dr Burke assumes) Mr Castle has so far been remarkably accurate in his deductions as to Detective Beckett’s state of mind. Much more importantly, he is prepared to tell the truth, and is in a position to fill in the areas which have been subject to Detective Beckett’s evasions.  Finally, there will be some progress in this matter.

Dr Burke considers his notes and Mr Castle’s words. One: what has caused Detective Beckett to allow Mr Castle to speak to him, and he to speak to Mr Castle, completely openly.  Two: the argument about Detective Beckett’s father’s alcoholism and Mr Castle’s views of Detective Beckett’s reactions.  Three: how, and far more importantly why, Mr Castle had decided that Detective Beckett was not to be permitted to evade him, and what his views of her reasoning were.  Four: Detective Beckett’s commentary whilst under the influence of alcohol.  Five: Dr Lanie Parrish.  Six: (he looks at the list almost despairingly) Detective Beckett’s relentlessly upbeat behaviour with her father.  Seven: Detective Beckett’s request that Mr Castle speaks with her father.  And eight, purely for his own information, why did Mr Castle believe that he, Dr Burke, is not what he would have expected?

Dr Burke sighs heavily, and turns to the much simpler matter of his present patient, who exhibits signs of paranoia and agoraphobia.

Castle finishes his cake, and discovers that he would far rather consider Dr Burke, including in the light of a potential character, than the mass of regular Manhattanites around him. Dr Burke is a very interesting character, now that Castle’s out of his territory and not having to focus on the discussion.  He absolutely was not what Castle expected.  He’s also hiding considerable intelligence, albeit with a  slightly peppery temper and a monumental dose of self-satisfaction, under the fussy formality and the treatment room which is just what the patient would expect to see.  Dr Burke, in fact, is running the psychiatrist’s equivalent of a con.  He is providing a persona and situation that lulls the poor patient into thinking they’ve walked into a classic psych session, as seen on a hundred TV shows.  By the time that they’ve walked out, undoubtedly cured, they’re too turned inside out to realise what happened.

On the other hand, Beckett’s clearly had a good go at snowing Dr Burke, and while he’s realised it, it’s not entirely clear which of them is winning. Castle will put a dollar on Dr Burke, but only because Beckett has decided that she wants fixed.  On the other hand, he’ll put his other dollar on Beckett proving Dr Burke wrong about Jim, because that’s coming straight from her excellent detective instincts.  Hmmm.  He can’t lose.

He starts to scribble in his notebook. Yet another character is forming in his head.  He orders more coffee and loses himself till his phone pings with the reminder that he needs to return to Dr Burke’s office.  (He sets those whenever he needs to be somewhere and is about to waste some time.  If not, it can get embarrassing if he gets lost in his head while writing.  He’s been late for more than a few appointments like that.)

When he returns to Dr Burke’s office the pretty receptionist asks him to wait in a side room. Castle thinks nothing of it, fails to appreciate the receptionist’s once-over of his appearance because he doesn’t actually realise she’s doing it, and happily returns to his scribbling without the slightest resentment.

“I apologise for the delay, Mr Castle. My prior patient required a little extra time.”

“No problem. Did you want to start where we left off?”

“No, I think not. I have assembled some questions arising from our earlier conversation, and I should like to address some of these.”  Dr Burke steeples his fingers, and Castle has a hard time not copying him.  “I would like to start in the middle, as it were.  I am sure that Detective Beckett has told you about her initial experiences with her father, whilst he was inebriated, but although I will be seeking your views of that I would prefer to start with a little more detail on your discovery of her father’s alcoholism and how Detective Beckett reacted to that discovery, as well as your thoughts as to the manner of her reactions at the time during which she was reacting.  I appreciate that you have said that this was not” – again the quotation marks are tangible – “your finest hour, however, if you can bring yourself to discuss it I should be very grateful.”

Castle winces. “Why?” he asks, a little irritably.  “I thought we were discussing Beckett, not me.”

“We are. However, you have observed her reactions with clarity, and so I wish to know how she reacted both to your discovery and to your impressions at the time, albeit that you are aware that these were mistaken.  In such a way I may analyse her coping mechanisms and her concealment strategies.”

“Okay. That makes sense.”  Castle gathers breath and logical thought, without hurrying.  “So first, it was the Berowitzes.  Beckett nailed him as an alcoholic right off the bat, but when I asked why she said that when she was in uniform she’d seen lots of it, which was pretty plausible.  But then she practically vomited when I took her mince pies with brandy butter.  Now, I guess that she must have had them one Christmas with her father when he was still drinking, but then she blamed it on a stomach bug.  She was lying.  She said so, later, and said sorry.  She said she hadn’t wanted to upset me.”

“Mm,” Dr Burke interjects. “She did not want to upset you?  Did Detective Beckett take some action that she would have preferred not to take in order not to upset you on any other occasion?” 

“She came to dinner. Three times, actually.  The first time I thought something was wrong, but she said she was tired – and she likely was, because there had been so many cases and she works far too many hours – and Alexis didn’t think there was anything wrong so I just let it go.  But I was sure she hadn’t wanted to come to the loft, but she did.  Then the second time it was clear that she was off.  I was annoyed with her because she wouldn’t come to mine.  Everything was at hers, and it felt like she was avoiding the loft, like she didn’t want to be part of anything.  But she really, really didn’t want to be there, and though Alexis still didn’t notice anything I certainly did.”  He stops.  He doesn’t like the memory of the few moments following that.  “We argued, and she walked out, but she didn’t explain anything about why she wasn’t happy about coming to the loft.  And then the third time was when Jim finagled me into a family dinner at mine.  But Beckett came because she didn’t want to upset…her…dad – oh.  That’s what you mean, isn’t it?  A pattern of doing things she might not want to in order not to show that she’s upset.”

“Or in order not to upset those she might care for. It is quite likely that it might be for both reasons. Please carry on.”

“It all added up, eventually, to her knowing about it personally, but I can’t – oh, I forgot. The way she was talking to Julia Berowitz.”

“What happened?”

“I think that when we went to see them to tell them we’d caught the killer, or maybe even when we went to tell them their son had been murdered, Beckett gave Julia her card. Anyway.  Julia called Beckett just after Christmas” –

“Do you remember the date?”

“Um… oh yes. The 10th of January, because Beckett was off the day before.  I found out later that was the day her mother had been killed.  The 9th.   So Beckett went out to meet Julia.  She wouldn’t tell me why, and I was annoyed because she wouldn’t let me shadow her, so I – er – followed her and – er – butted in.  She was really angry, which was fair enough, but the point is that she was telling Julia that it would bring her down too.  I didn’t work it out for a while, but she – Beckett – meant that she’d been there.”

“Tell me about the interactions with Julia.”

“I think” – Castle looks a little guilty and embarrassed - “that Julia battened off Beckett.  Fed off her strength.  Beckett saw her the time I just mentioned, but after that she did it again, and then Julia called her because her husband had gone missing, and Beckett just went.  Spent – I think – half the evening searching, because I called her and she thought I was her takeout pizza arriving, and then went to Central Park Precinct to get him – I went too – and take him home.   It was…” he searches for a word “…difficult.  The desk sergeant knew her and her dad, but she wasn’t talking about her father.  So they brought Mr Berowitz up and he was a mess.  Beckett never turned a hair, but the cops treated her like she was a primed grenade.  She didn’t let a thing show.  No emotion, nothing.  Then we took him home.  I think Beckett forgot I was there, when she got him in.  She kept telling Julia that she needed help.  Then she said you can only save yourself. And then she got really furious with me when I said that it was just like she used to have to do.  She said I’d use it in my books, but I wouldn’t, by then.  She was desperate to protect him.  Make sure nobody knew.  She spends – spent – all her time protecting him.”

“Let us leave Julia for a moment. Is it your impression that Detective Beckett’s father needs her protection?”

Castle pauses. “No.  Not nearly as much as she thinks he does, anyway.  He’s a lot tougher than she realises, and a lot braver and stronger.  He told me his story, briefly.”

“But Detective Beckett has never told him the truth of what he did or said when intoxicated.”

“No. But I don’t think she can face the truth of what she did either.  She can’t get over walking away.”

“That was also my impression. Detective Beckett still appears to feel guilt over her actions.”

Castle laughs, shortly and without any humour at all. “That would be a slight understatement.  She’s drowning in guilt.”

“And that, of course, is why she was helping Julia, and why she has been so over-protective of her father.” Dr Burke regards Castle with a sharp-edged glance.  “Was her father aware of her reasons?”

“No. He was absolutely horrified when he started to realise.  He didn’t realise anything was wrong until after Beckett walked out of Julia’s, but then I think he got on Beckett’s case a bit, which he should have known was a really bad idea, and then he went and told her he wanted to be part of my family.”

“Yes. Detective Beckett mentioned that.  How did her father actually mean that sentence to be interpreted?”

Castle blushes. “Er-um… I think he was hoping that we’d be – um-er – permanent.”

“I see.”

Castle blushes some more.

“To summarise, then, Detective Beckett still feels unhappy and guilty about leaving her father, was trying to deal with it by protecting him from any worry or danger, was unwilling to upset him by showing him that she might be upset or uncomfortable, and has informed you that she was tired of having to bear the weight of everyone around her.” Dr Burke pauses. “And she applied the same reluctance to upset her father to you.”

“Yes… but…”

“Mm?”

“But then when she lost her temper she did her absolute best to hurt me as much as possible and to make sure I never came near her again.”

“Which she has now done with her father.”

“Oh,” Castle says weakly. A thought occurs to him.  “She did it to Lanie, too.”

“Mm?”

“Yes. Lanie got on Beckett’s case big-time and wouldn’t step back.  Though Lanie was pretty blunt and rude.  She told Beckett she was – er – all fucked-up” –

“In those words?”

“Yeah. Word for word.  Beckett didn’t like it and when Lanie turned up at the door Beckett lost her temper spectacularly.  Lanie scuttled off as fast as her feet would carry her and Beckett didn’t say a word to her until we intervened.  Even that was pretty fraught, though I think they’re okay now.”

“Do you see the pattern here, Mr Castle?”

Castle nods. “She lets it all build up till it’s too much and then it explodes.  And then she does her best to make sure that whoever’s hurt her never gets the chance ever again.”

“Indeed. Which makes me wonder, Mr Castle, why she made an exception for you.”  Dr Burke regards Mr Castle carefully.  “And why you have continued to associate with Detective Beckett.  After all, she seems to have treated you with considerable cruelty.  She would not go to your apartment, she did not wish to be a part of your family, and she informed you flatly that she could not cope with your family.  You, conversely, treated her with equivalent cruelty.  You did not believe that she was supporting her father, and I strongly suspect that you said so in the course of the argument which her father interrupted.  That misconception must have hurt her as much as she hurt you.  I surmise that you have had a number of arguments, although I also expect that both of you are equally responsible.”  Castle winces.  “Yet you appear to be together, you appear to care deeply for Detective Beckett, and she has made it transparently clear that she wishes to be able to deal with your family, which implies very strongly that she has similar feelings.”

Castle squirms uncomfortably. The idea that Beckett cares is very pleasant.  The scalpel-sharp dissection of their failings is not.

 “So, Mr Castle, would you like to explain why you did not simply cease to associate with Detective Beckett?”

Castle feels unpleasantly as if he is being interrogated.

“What has that got to do with anything? I didn’t come here for relationship counselling.”

“How fortunate,” Dr Burke says dryly. “I am not offering it.  I am, however, interested in how you managed to persuade Detective Beckett to change her mind.  It might enable me to do the same.”  He smiles.  “I do not imagine it was, or will be, easy.”

Castle grins back at him. “Not exactly,” he says, equally dryly.  “After she was so uncomfortable at the loft, we argued, she misunderstood me, though I get why, now, and she walked out.  Well, I wasn’t going to go running after her.  But she didn’t call, and I didn’t call her.  Until a new body dropped and she had to call me.  So I went.  I needed to see how it all worked so I had it right for the story.”

“Mm?” Dr Burke hums, questioningly.

“I always do the detailed research. Follow someone who actually does it.  That way I get the details right.”

“I see.” How very… dedicated.  Maybe he should try one of Mr Castle’s books.

“Beckett wasn’t particularly pleased. But she just stayed neutral.  She stopped ME Perlmutter being his usual snide self.  Ryan said she’d been a bit miserable, though.  And then I worked out that her dad was the alcoholic, but I knew she’d taken the Christmas Day shift, so I thought that she didn’t care about him, which wound me up because – I worked out later – my family’s everything to me and we do proper family Christmas.   Beckett doesn’t do Christmas, because of her dad.  Jim doesn’t know that, either.  So I was pretty unimpressed by the whole thing, and I was only staying around because she was supposed to let me shadow her properly and I had to know for the book.  So I went round to tell her so.”

Dr Burke revises his view of Mr Castle from brave but stupid to suicidal.

“We had a really bad row. She said I was only following her because of the books and I lost my temper” –

“But you were, were you not?” Mr Castle looks blankly at him.  “You have just said so.”

“Er…”

“Or that is what you told yourself, at the time. So you lost your temper.”

“Yes. She said I’d ditched her, and wouldn’t let me explain, and I said she couldn’t bear my family, and then” – he winces – “I said she didn’t look after hers.  And then she was about to throw me out and Jim walked into the middle of it.  He thought we were friends.  He said enough that I realised that I’d got it all wrong.  Not that Beckett had told me the truth.”

“In the same way, in fact, as she has not told her father the truth about the manner in which he hurt her. This is profoundly interesting.”

Castle stops dead. “What?”

“Mr Castle, I have learned more about Detective Beckett in the hour and a half in which you have been here than in her three weeks of therapy. Everything I have heard about her reactions to you, and to Dr Parrish, has mirrored the way in which she has reacted to her father.  It confirms me in my view that she must deal with her father before she will be able to deal with anything else.”  He stops, and steeples his fingers.  “I am still very interested in how you persuaded her to reassociate with you.  Please continue.”

“Well, after Jim had finished I was shell-shocked, and I just went home. Even though I was there in the precinct, I hardly saw her.  She paired up with Espo” – Dr Burke raises an eyebrow – “Detective Esposito – and Detective Ryan stuck with me.  No-one explained.  I couldn’t get a chance to apologise, and it just got worse and worse.  So at the end of the week I got Ryan to talk and he explained.”

“But Detective Beckett did not?”

“She wasn’t there. Ryan told me her dad was away, and her history, and that if her dad was away the Captain teamed her up with Esposito.  Normally it’s Ryan and Espo together.”

“Why would that be necessary?”

“Ryan said that Espo was tough enough to make her stop. March her home.”

Dr Burke imagines this Detective Esposito must be constructed of tungsten steel, and has an errant vision of a RoboCop. Not, of course, that he has ever watched or read such a frivolous mass-appeal idea, but one does notice the advertising around oneself, however distasteful.

“She’s surrounded by tough guys. None of them except you make her talk.”

Dr Burke blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I’m sure you weren’t what she wanted in a therapist, but you fit the pattern.”

“Please explain?”