Aug. 10th, '15: Neighborhood Watch - Part VII
Title: Neighborhood Watch - Part VII
Author: SweetChi
Rating: PG-13
Crossover: Castle
Word Count: 1499
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural, I am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment
Summary: Castle gets a visitor.
Part VII
Ryan listened to the others shuffle awkwardly outside his door. He’d been rude, shutting the door in Javi’s face like that but he just couldn’t stand that worried sympathetic look for another second. His best friends thought he was crazy and-
Maybe he was.
He let out a shuddering breath as he heard them leave and leaned against the front door, sliding down so he was sitting on the floor. They were right - he’d been running himself ragged over this case the last few weeks. Was it possible that his brain made up some elaborate hallucination that Buffy had been killed?
Well, that’s fucked up. Because shouldn’t I have been at least able to save her if she was a figment of my imagination? A desperate attempt to make up for all the blond bodies I’ve been seeing lately?
Scrubbing his face roughly, he pulled himself to his feet and headed for the shower. He’d get some rest, see how he was feeling in the morning, and maybe talk to the force shrink. If he was making up Buffy getting killed in weird and gruesome ways then he needed some mental help.
Pulling off his suit jacket, he paused and wilted a little more. He’d gotten something on the sleeve. His drycleaner was practically a miracle worker, but with as many bodies and dumpsters he got acquainted with there were lots of stains that even the Guru of Cleaning couldn’t defeat. Picking at it with his fingernail, he was relieved to see the bit of red come right off. Just a bit of flaked dried blood.
Where did-
Kevin looked at his palms, seeing the left had the same flakey blood specks dried in the crease. He stopped breathing. That meant-
Sitting down on the toilet so hard he broke one of the clasps on the seat, almost sending him sliding onto the floor, he ripped off his right sock.
There on the bottom was a large red stain.
Clenching the sock in his hand, his jaw tightened in anger. He had no idea how it was possible, but now he knew what he’d seen had been real. Someone was screwing with him. And nothing was going to stop him from finding out who and why.
And what the hell had happened to Buffy…
*****
Castle sluggishly came to, his mind not processing what the shaking was until his bleary eyes made out his mother standing above him.
“Can’t go to school. Sick,” he begged off, eyes closing again.
“Richard, you’re not ten. Except occasionally mentally and emotionally. Now wake up!” The last was accentuated by a shove that had nearly had him toppling off the bed.
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he whined. Rocking himself into a semi-upright position. “I’m up.”
Then he looked at the clock.
“And I’m not,” he said, flopping back down with a hand over his eyes. “You realize I haven’t even been home an hour?”
“Detective Ryan is here,” she said quietly. “And he’s not looking so hot if I may say so. If anyone should’ve stayed it bed, it’s that poor boy.”
Castle’s brow furrowed as he woke up a little more. “Ryan? Is here?”
“Isn’t that what I just said? Now get up and tend to your guest. It took forever to wake you up. Almost made me late,” she huffed, striding from the room in a flurry of clicking heels.
He could hear the sound of her voice (Not complaining about Ryan making her late…) in the other room and forced himself up and out of the bed - giving a pout and little whine as he looked back at it. After splashing some water on his face he wandered out into the living room.
Ryan spun to look at him, looking a little less crazed than the last time he saw him, but still kind of manic. He was at least wearing clean clothes and had shaved - which was more than Castle could say at the moment.
He opened his mouth, but Castle stopped him with an upheld hand and said with a still sleep gritty voice, “Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait until I get some coffee, because nothing is going to register right now.”
Ryan looked a little more like his old self as he gave a sheepishly apologetic nod, following Castle to the kitchen and sliding onto a stool. Castle puttered around the kitchen on autopilot as his mind reluctantly kicked into gear.
What was Ryan doing there? He looked like he’d gotten a little rest, at least. Lucky him - Castle and the others had been at the precinct trying to find any information on “Buffy” until just a little over an hour ago.
He gulped down three quick swallows and burnt the hell out of his tongue as soon as the coffee was ready.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he hissed before taking another, more reasonable, sip.
He then made Ryan a cup, leaning on the counter across from him and sliding it over.
“Okay, might not be the sharpest tool in the shed at the moment, but I think I’m ready.”
“So we’re at normal operating level then,” Ryan gave a ghost of a smirk.
“I’m usually above all the sharp tools, I am the shed,” he nodded sagely.
“So… you keep all the tools inside you?”
Castle’s brow furrowed. “Yeaaaah, that doesn’t sound right either. See, not at my sharpest.”
Silence fell as Castle worked on his coffee a little more, waiting for Ryan to get comfortable enough to get to the reason of his visit. Unfortunately, patience was never his strong suit.
“You get some sleep?”
Ryan nodded.
“Any sign of Buffy?”
Ryan shook his head. “Stopped by this morning. Maintenance fixed the door.”
Castle took another sip, eyes not leaving Ryan as he shifted in his seat before he straightened up and gripped his coffee cup so hard his knuckles were turning white.
“Listen, I know what that looked like last night. But… I need to know… ,” he paused and took a deep breath before looking Castle in the eye. “You’re always putting wild theories out there. Is that all talk or do you think the impossible can really be possible?”
Castle looked at him closely. “You’re sticking to your story. You really believe what you say you saw was there.”
Ryan didn’t even blink. “I do.”
“What makes you so sure? You know we did a search on this ‘Buffy’ last night at the station. Her name’s not on the lease and none of the tenants or the manager have seen her.”
Ryan looked shocked for a moment but then shook his head. “So now everyone thinks I not only made up what happened to her, but that I actually made up her.”
“That’s where the evidence is pointing,” Castle said with a shrug.
“What I saw was real, Castle. And I have proof.”
Castle was always up for the unexplained, but he really thought they’d reached the end of Ryan’s mental line when he pulled out an old, dirty sock. Until he flipped it over revealing a dirty blood stain on the bottom.
“I stepped in blood in Buffy’s apartment by the balcony doors. And I got some on my hand when I leaned to look over the balcony,” he said, removing a small plastic baggie from his pocket with some tiny dark flecks in it.
Castle’s leaned forward, holding his breath. Partially because Ryan needed to spray that sock with some febreeze or something, but also because his gut was getting tingly. There might actually be something here…
“It could be your blood,” he said, playing the Devil’s advocate on the side of logic for once. “You were running around in an alley without any shoes. If that’s the case I’d suggest getting your shots updated- What are you-“
He stopped as Ryan slid off the stool and toed off his shoes, sitting down on the floor. He pulled his socks off and waved the pristine white bottoms of his feet up at Castle.
“I know I could’ve gotten that sock anywhere, done anything with it,” he said, putting his feet down and leaning on his knees with his forearms as he looked up at Castle. “But I’m telling you I didn’t. I’m telling you I stepped in blood in Buffy’s apartment. I know I look crazy to everyone else, but I’m asking you to help me figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Stop, just stop,” Castle said, feigning tearing up. “You had me at ‘there was a body, but now it’s gone.”
Ryan slumped in relief and they grinned at each other a moment before Ryan set to work putting his socks back on.
“So, no body, no crime scene, no clues except my dirty sock. Where should we start?” Ryan asked.
“No idea,” Castle said. “But at some point in this new partnership of ours I’m introducing you to the wonderful world of pedicures.”