Be Brave

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Be brave.

That's what her mother had told her when Kate was five and had gotten stuck in a tree, a hefty feat in the mostly concrete jungle of New York City. She had begged her mother to take her to Central Park, to the playground. And to this day she could still see Johanna Beckett standing what was probably ten feet, but seemed like miles to her childhood eyes, below her, her suit jacket stripped off leaving her in her eighties chic dress shirt, suit skirt, and demi-heels, exhausted from a day in court with arms outstretched.

Be brave, Katie, Johanna had called up to her, her voice calm but that hint of panic innate in every mother swimming below the surface in her eyes.

Now, by be brave Johanna had probably meant to stay calm and wait until help had arrived with a ladder or until Kate had stopped shaking enough so that she could climb, with wobbly sticks of limbs, down the branches one by one until she was within reaching distance of her mother's arms. To Kate this had meant to swallow her sobs, dry her tears, take a deep breath and jump.

That was the day little Katie Beckett had broken her arm.

That was also the day Johanna Beckett had learned that her only daughter would never do anything by half.

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love

Be brave.

Years later it was one of the phrases that Kate could continue to hear in the back of her mind, her mother's voice still eerily intact even though it had been years since she had last heard it. The other phrase would come minutes, hours, days after Kate had chosen to "be brave" and was dealing with the fallout of whatever that act was that she had just accomplished.

I told you so.

Sometimes it was meant in a good way. "I told you it would all work out in the end, Katie. Someday you will learn to listen to your mother." Other times it was meant to scold her, to ask her how she could be so stupid. "I told you so, Katie. I told you that boy was no good."

Her mother had whispered it in her ear as she had hugged her at the airport in California to head back to New York, Kate in her newly purchased Stanford sweatshirt, her parents misty eyed in the terminal. "Be brave Katie, we'll see you at Thanksgiving. Call me anytime. I love you."

That was the last time she had heard the words aloud. Now they were just an echo. An echo that floated by at Johanna Beckett's funeral, as Kate and her father walked along the seashore on Coney Island. She had heard them in the bellow of her drill sergeant's voice during her first week at the police academy and again on her first day on the force.

They whispered at her, sounding of held-back tears the first time she had held Jim Beckett up as he stumbled out of a bar at two in the morning, slobbering drunk.

Be brave, Katie. I need you to be brave for me.

Don't run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is

Richard Castle had been a series of brave.

She had been brave that first day on the roof. Flashing her badge like she didn't care, rolling her eyes, pursing her lips. She had been on fire inside, her stomach a flutter of butterflies and roller coasters. She had hated him. She had fallen for him. She had hated that she had fallen for him. She had wanted to run far and fast, not amused at the fact that he could so easily get under her skin. She had forced herself to lean up and whisper in his ear, to taunt him. She had thought it would be the last time she would ever see him, so she had forced herself to be brave, to say what she actually wanted to say.

She had told herself that she regretted it later. That she was stupid, that of course he hadn't gone away, he liked to torment her too much. She hadn't been brave enough to let herself think that he could actually care about her.

Once she had finally allowed herself to see it, he had broken her heart. So, as she watched him walk away, his ex-wife wrapped in his arms, she had told herself that she had to protect her heart. She had to be brave.

Then years later, she found herself on another roof, fingers numb, her body a tapestry of cuts and bruises, in so much pain that she could not feel it anymore. She could have let go, given up, put an end to the suffering but she heard her mother's voice calling out. Too much left to do, too much left unsaid; she hadn't been brave, she had been a coward. She had forced those feeling down, allowed herself to hide in the shadows of her mother's death— safe, secluded. Alone. So, after Ryan had pulled her up, the grace of God behind him, she found herself reevaluating what 'brave' really meant.

Courageous, valiant, heroic, bold, daring, fearless. Having or showing courage.

She had taken a bullet to the chest and survived. Brave.

Then she had run. Cowardly.

She had apologized to Castle for leaving. Brave.

Then she had turned around and lied about remembering his confession of love. Cowardly.

She had forced herself to face her demons in Dr. Burke's office. Brave.

But then had chosen to idiotically pursue her shooter and found herself dangling off the side of a building twenty stories up instead of heeding Castle advice to just let it go. Cowardly cloaked in the shroud of bravery.

So, she threw her badge onto the desk alongside her weapon and she chose to give everything up for him, even though she didn't know if he would even speak to her again.

She chose to be brave.

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Let's face it; she wasn't always good at it, even after the fact, the whole "brave" thing.

She hadn't told him about DC. She hadn't told anyone. She had wanted to. She had started to. She had tried, but she hadn't done it. She had gone to DC on her own. She had interviewed for the job opportunity of a lifetime. She had let him get away with half truths, and "misunderstandings" because she hadn't wanted to press the matter. She was afraid of the possible answers. "Where are we going?" "Why did you and your ex's break up?" Sometimes the thought of the truth was scary than the not knowing. So she hadn't asked, and she hadn't told. She hadn't been brave enough.

But once again she found herself sitting on one of those life-changing swings. One of their swings and she heard her mother's voice singing in the wind. She had accepted the job in DC. She was going to be a federal agent. She would face down some of the world's most hardened criminals. She would save the American people from imminent death on a daily basis while they went on with their daily lives, clueless. She'd don her invisible cape and boots along with her badge and gun and go to work every day. That was her life, her existence. She didn't know anything other than that. That was normal.

But this. This diamond glistening back at her, offered to her by a man with undying love, hope and devotion in his eyes, a man she loved more than she every thought possible, so much that it made her hurt inside, this was not normal. This was big. It was scary. This was everything.

So when she parted her lips to give her answer, this was when she needed to be brave.

I wanna see you be brave

A/N: Lyrics from "Brave" by Sarah Bareilles. I do not own the song or Castle. Just borrowing. You know those times when you're in the shower and just hit with inspiration? This was one of those times. An hour and a half later, here it is. Since my usual beta is at work and I am impatient, I flew beta free on this. Any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! Feedback welcome.