trigger_man | (no subject)

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Jack's been keeping an eye on Beckett, and he's starting to have to admit to himself that it's not just out of ordinary human concern. He's worried about her, particularly considering the hallucinations she'd had. Which means that he's started to see her as more than an acquaintance. Maybe not quite a friend, yet, but more than just someone whose name he knows.

He's not sure how he feels about this. He doesn't want to get close to anyone; getting close means getting hurt eventually. And it's not himself getting hurt that he's really worried about.

But even with those misgivings he can't not head up to Beckett's room, carrying a tray from Bar with the kinds of things she needs, or should have. Chicken soup, orange juice, ginger ale, kleenex; it might have been Bar's idea, but Jack had been intending to get a few things anyway.

He shifts the tray to one hand so he can knock on the door. He has her key, of course, but he can't be sure she isn't taking a bath to try and cool off or that she wants the company.

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"That's fascinating, Beckett, I never would have thought that," Jack says. Sarcasm? Noooo, certainly not.

She makes a small sound of protest.

"It does too count, by the way."

Jack doesn't comment. "How's your stomach feeling? Do you want me to bring up something more substantial than soup, later?"

Don't think she didn't notice that.

"Better," she admits. At least she didn't get the ickiest part of the flu and can actually keep things down.

"Maybe I'll try my hand at a sandwich, even."

Jack nods. "I can ask Bar at least. Though you never know with...her." Referring to the actual bar as "Bar" is one thing; he still can't quite get used to using a gendered pronoun in that context as well.

Beckett smiles, briefly.

"You know, you don't have to stick around with a sick person all day. It's kind of a downer. I think I'm even depressing myself."

"Or in other words, 'go find something else to do already, Jack'," he says, with a weak smile.

"No, I - I didn't mean that."

She rises to sit up, then reaches for the glass of orange juice.

"It's just - I'd understand if you didn't feel like baby-sitting."

Jack shifts in his chair. Surprisingly, he wants to be here. He likes talking with Beckett; it doesn't feel like a chore to sit in here, though he's not exactly sure how far it goes, or whether he wants to even try and describe it.

So instead, what comes out is an awkward, "It's not...I don't see it as 'baby-sitting'. And I don't really have anything more important to do in here."

She glances up at him. Maybe it wasn't the word she'd meant to use, exactly, because as soon as she'd said it, she'd regretted it.

"Okay," she murmurs, and her smile turns grateful.

"I mean, it's nice - having someone to talk to here. Ever since Kate and Bill left for France, I haven't really... you know?"

Jack's just glad he hasn't pissed her off with the way he'd phrased his reply.

"Friends of yours, I take it? Do you only know them from in here, or are they from your world, too?"

"I met them both here, actually. But due to a recent incident, they decided to take a leave of absence here for a while."

Her expression turns cloudy.

"It was safer for them, in the long run."

Doesn't mean she's any happier about it.

"Safer? They were in some kind of danger here?" Jack asks, suddenly a little more attentive than before.

Even though he has no authority here and doesn't want anything to do with law enforcement here or outside, it's hard to turn that instinct off.

It was hard for Beckett, too.

"Apparently they'd run into trouble with another patron here. I'm pretty sure Bar's security team wound up handling things, but they decided to take a break from this place, which was probably the best thing to do for a while."

"Probably, and not just for their safety, really. Sounds like they could use a break."

"It was the right thing to do," Beckett agrees, the words feeling strange as she says them.

Though it'd been hard, when Kate had told her they'd be leaving. It's easier, though, having Jack here now to talk to about all of it. Maybe because he gets it in a way that Castle probably wouldn't.

"I'm guessing it's a temporary thing, though? They've got to come back here to get back home, right?"

"Right. They're staying in a world different from either of their own, so they sort of have to."

Beckett looks down at the juice.

"I think Security's just going to have to keep their grip a little tighter for now."

"As tight as they can. I know they have cells in the security office," he says, trying not to think about it or the memories just thinking about the cells brings up, "but no one's mentioned any kind of long-term provisions for this kind of thing."

"I've heard of people being banned from the Bar," Beckett tells him, "but I don't know if that involves the same kind of magic that brings people here, or what."

She shrugs briefly.

"I won't deny that I'm still worried about their safety."

"You think they might still be in danger when they come back, even with a cooling-off period? What are your friends' names? I'm not in the bar that much, but I can keep an ear out when I'm down there."

"They're, uh - Kate Warner. Kate Warner and Bill Pardy."

Beckett smiles for a moment.

"And if you run into Bill, there's a small visual on what Castle looks like. The two of them could be twins, almost."

Jack blinks.

"Did you say Kate Warner?" he asks.

No way. It's got to be a coincidence. There must be thousands of Kate Warners amongst the different universes that come into the bar.

"Yeah."

Cue headtilt.

"Do you know her?"

Come to think of it, she's not sure she's met anyone from Kate's world - and Bill's from a different one entirely.

"I knew someone named Kate Warner, years ago. Do you know when and where she's from? What she does in her world?"

Jack has a bad feeling about this. He and Kate had broken up amicably enough, if awkwardly. Mainly because of him. Hard to break up with someone because you can't tell them you're starting to use heroin as preparation for what could be an extended undercover mission. Not to mention all the reasons he hadn't been able to kick the heroin when he got back.