[Hawks in the Night]

Rick Castle was in a good mood. Alexis and his mother were out for the evening and Kate had agreed to come over and watch a marathon of the Die Hard movies with him. He had to keep telling himself that it wasn't a date; it was just a friendly movie watching between friends, but that didn't stop the excitement from bubbling over.

Castle had been preparing for this movie night all afternoon, making sure that the house was cleaned and that he had a full stock of popcorn and beer.

Castle had just finished popping the popcorn all knowing that Kate would be getting here at any time.

The door bell rang. Castle put the bowl of popcorn on the counter and cleaned his hands calling, "I'm coming!"

Grinning Castle went to the door. Grasping the handle, he pulled it open saying, "It's about time, Beckett! I was about to send out my dogs to come find you!" He trailed off as he saw who was standing in the landing. The man had his head down and Rick couldn't see his face. He was wearing a dark leather jacket, that looked wet, but Rick didn't think that it had been raining outside and worn jeans. The man looked up and grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Heya, Rick. Long time no see."

"Clint?" Rick stuttered out, hands automatically reaching out to his little brother. Clint flinched a little at the contact, but allowed himself to be guided into the house and into the kitchen.

"I haven't seen you in years! Where've you been?" Rick said his voice rising as Clint took a seat on one of the kitchen stools, wincing as he did so.

Clint raised his hands trying to calm his older brother down. "I needed to figure some stuff out on my own." Rick was staring with horror at Clint's hand. Confused Clint glanced at his palm. Blood was dripping down from his finger tips to his wrist, a ruby stain against his hand.

"Shit." He muttered and hurriedly wiped his palm against his jeans, leaving another trail of blood on one pant leg.

"Clint…" Rick murmured, concern bleeding through his voice. "Are you hurt? Did something happen to you?" Clint glanced down at his wet side and shrugged.
"I've had worse." Rick took two steps forward and jerked Clint's jacket up to reveal an ugly knife wound across his ribs. Rick let out a strangled yelp, jumping away from his seated brother.

"What do you mean you've had worse?" Rick hissed, "What have you gotten yourself into?" Clint waved away Rick's questions.

"Get a needle and thread. And some whiskey." Rick tried to stare down his little brother, but obviously Clint had greatly improved in that area since he last saw him. Rick averted his gaze and went to get what Clint had asked for.

When he returned back to the kitchen, Clint's head was poked into the fridge. He resurfaced with a cold Fat Tire in his hand. Popping the cap, he took a long swig of the liquid.

Rick slammed down the items onto his counter with more force than necessary and glared at Clint.

Clint grinned back with recklessness that Rick remembered well. Rick crossed his arms while Clint doused his wound with the whiskey and though Rick wouldn't admit it he was impressed that Clint didn't make a sound when the burning liquid came into contact with his open wound.

Rick watched with a morbid fascination as Clint slowly stitched himself up. The job was done in a precision that Rick remembered Clint having. All in all it was a quick and clean job.

Dropping the bloody needle back onto the counter, Clint went to the sink and washed the blood off his fingers and hand. He watched the blood swirl down the drain before he turned off the stream of water. He turned back to his brother, who hadn't said a word throughout his stitching of his wound.

"What are you doing here?" Rick finally asked his voice quiet. He hadn't seen Clint in fifteen years and then suddenly out of the blue, his younger brother shows up at his door with a f**king knife wound. Rick felt that he deserved some answers.

"I needed your help…for my knife scratch." Cocky grin. Rick ignored it.

"You obviously know how to patch yourself up. You didn't need me."

"I haven't seen you in years." Clint tried again enjoying his little game with Rick.

"Bullshit. You could have picked up the phone and called." A new thought occurred to Rick. "Does mom know you're here?" Clint's face went from grinning and cocky to emotionless in less than a second.

"No. No, she doesn't and it's gonna stay that way." His voice was hard and serious. "I shouldn't even be here. Fury told me that it was stupid and reckless." Clint muttered the last part to himself. "He's gonna tear me a new one when I get back." Rick frowned. Who was Fury?

"Why would you listen to someone telling you that you can't see your own brother?" Rick asked with some anger tingeing his words. Clint blinked and seemed to remember where he was and who he was talking to.

He limped over to Rick's large window. Pushing the gauzy drapes aside he glanced out into the night.

There was a sudden wail of a siren and Clint jerked his head back. Rick frowned.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" He demanded following Clint to the window. He stopped a few feet away. Clint again pushed the question aside with a wave of his hand.

Rick tried again. "I've got friends in the police force. I can help you get out of whatever mess you're in." Clint snorted slightly.

"It's actually because of one of your friends that I'm here." He said. Rick opened his mouth to ask another question, but Clint cut him off.

"I don't have time to answer your questions. I came here to tell you something important." He gazed at his brother with an uncharacteristic seriousness. "You've got to stop Kate Beckett from hunting into her mother's death anymore. She doesn't know who she's dealing with." That shut Rick up. "But don't worry." Clint continued. "Cause I've got it under control. I'll make sure that the sick bastard gets what's coming for him. You have my word."

There was a knock at Castle's door. Clint smiled. "That would be the lady herself." Rick seemed torn, wanting to open the door and let Kate deal with his little brother, but also wanting to stay and force the truth out of Clint.

Clint unlatched the window's lock, swinging the window wide. He stuck one booted foot out the window and into the night.

Rick let out a strangled cry and rushed toward him, thinking that Clint was either completely crazy or on drugs, maybe both.

Clint held up a warning hand stopping Rick.

"I got this. I know what I'm doing. They don't call me the Hawk for nothing." He let out a small chuckle. Another knock at the door. Castle ignored it.

There was a small buzzing noise and Clint lifted a hand to his right ear.

"Sir?" He asked, his voice showing nothing but respect. "Yessir. No, I'm not. Yeah, okay. I'm on my way." Clint turned to his brother and smiled.

"You better let the lady in before she breaks down your door." Rick glanced at the door and then back to the window. Clint was gone.

In a daze Castle went to his front door and opened it for Kate Beckett. Her face showed worry, but then relief when Castle finally swung the door open.

"What's going on? Why did you take so long to open the door?" She asked with her usually no nonsense attitude, striding into the house.

Castle mumbled something inaudible, following her in.

Beckett rubbed her arms, shivering slightly.

"Do you have the window open? You know it's only the beginning of spring, right?" She grinned, but Castle merely nodded. Kate was suddenly concerned.

"Are you okay?" She asked, but then spotted the bloody needle and bottle of half empty jack sitting on the counter.

"Castle! What happened!" She dashed over to Castle trying to see if he had any injures on him, but didn't see any. He shrugged.

"Don't worry it's not my blood…I had a visitor…" She waited for more. Luckily Castle was saved the trouble of having to answer, when her phone went off.

"Beckett." Silence. "Yessir. I'm on my way." Castle knew from her tone that there had been a murder and he was already getting his coat.

Beckett turned the phone off. "There was a murder a few blocks away. Man with a knife. From what I was told, he looks like he was shot…with an arrow." Castle swallowed and paused as he buttoned up his wool jacket. He got the feeling they weren't going to solve this one easily.

A/N: So I came up with this idea when I was cleaning a house, which kinda weird, but I think about a lot of strange things when I clean.
Maybe it's just me, but I think that Jeremy Renner and Nathan Fillion look sorta similar (It's probably just me). Anyway, as soon as I thought about that, this story popped out.

I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you thought!