Disclaimer and Introduction: Characters aren't mine, and I claim no rights or interest in them. For those parts of the story that are original to me, they're mine.

Inspired by a discussion on "Storming the Castle" podcast on how Castle's disappearance couldn't just be about Castle, and instead it had to part of the larger, protracted (and suffocating?) Beckett/Bracken/LokSat story.

"Storming the Castle" podcast - available on iTunes and other fine podcast outlets - is not responsible for the content or quality of this summary, this disclaimer, or the story.

All errors are mine.

Kate had never felt so alone.

Not even when her mom died or after, when her dad became a drunk.

After her mom's murder had officially been classified a cold case, Kate had always had her obsession with her, behind the walls she'd built. No matter what, that obsession had been with her, providing something to hold onto.

Over the years, those walls had eased, bit by bit, letting people into her life though not completely. First Royce and Lanie, then Montgomery and the boys, the occasional relationship. Between her obsession and those with whom she shared some of herself, she made a life that would have been a good one. Not great, but good enough, filled with important, meaningful work, even if the subject of her obsession would never be satisfied.

But then by happenstance, in the course of investigating a murder of a sister by her brother, opportunity knocked with something new and different, with someone she knew through his writing and rather unsavory celebrity. After years of resisting, she let go of her walls and found the opportunity led to amazing, with a person who had first been her friend, then her partner, and finally her love and husband. The person without whose encouragement and help, the subject of her obsession would never have solved. Her one and done.

That person was gone now.

As she stared up at the barrel of a silenced pistol from her knees, Kate was beginning to wonder if he'd ever existed at all.

"Castle, what the hell is this?"

"Really? You have to ask? With everything you know, with all that's happened, I was sure you'd figured it out. I've seen you get to the truth with much less."

Kate spoke, rolling her eyes. "Don't pretend to be LokSat. You can't be, you're too young."

"Well, you've got that part right," he said with the smirk she had grown to love. Now the smirk was no longer little-boy cute, now it was ice cold. "You know, I thought you had figured it out, at least strongly suspected, when you walked out on me without any explanation. And then working with that pain-in-the-ass Vikram? I was so sure you'd finally seen the bigger picture."

The knock she'd taken on her head kept Beckett from thinking clearly. Reaching up to touch the swelling bump on her head – interrupted by a threatening 'uh-uh' and a flick of the pistol, warning her to move slowly – Beckett instinctively knew she had to keep Castle talking, to figure out what this was, and hopefully give the boys a chance to find the warehouse where this scene was playing out.

"Sorry to disappoint you Rick, but I haven't puzzled anything out. You're going to have to help me here."

"I've always been a bit worried that the use of an anagram was a bit too cute, it wasn't obscure or secure enough, but I've been wrong. So far anyway. Certainly helped that those looking for Bracken's partner made up their own spelling of something heard wrong."

With more than a hint of exasperation, Kate said, "What are you talking about?"

"LokSat could have easily been spelled with a 'c' and not a 'k.' Then it'd have been only one vowel away. Knowing you, I gotta believe you'd have unscrambled that if you'd stared at the letters of that spelling on a white board. Wouldn't have been completely right – C-A-S-T-L-O – but you would have made the leap. Not sure if the recording the CIA had was garbled or maybe the person recorded had an accent, but thankfully the vowel sounds of "Lecsat" hadn't be understood. And once LokSat became the accepted spelling, well, sometimes you need a lucky break."

Kate humored Rick. "So 'LokSat''s really an anagram for Castle? But you weren't Bracken's partner. Why Castle?"

The gun stayed steady, never wavering, pointing at Kate. "My father's been Bracken's partner in all things drug import and distribution, and his last name is Castle. Not Hunt, of course. I already had a relationship with him by the time my first novel had been sold, and changing my name pre-publication gave me an excuse to begin using my real last name. Father assured me that his line of 'work' in the Agency meant that his name was buried beneath layers of black and aliases, if it was even recorded or remembered at all. Of course, no one questioned my story that I had picked 'Castle' because it was sounded kinda snappy."

"Rick, if your father really is LokSat, we can take him down . . ."

"Why would I want to take him down? Using Castle is a symbol that I am my father's son. And after seven years of work getting to this point?"

Kate was taken aback. "What? . . . You can't expect me to believe that you've been working with your dad the entire time I've known you."

"Well, I'm also my mother's son, and I did spend years around the theatre. Not as good or polished as Mother, but I hold my own."

Now Kate was angry and more than a bit hurt by Castle's story. "I don't believe you. You can't have been acting all this time, pretending about . . . everything."

"True, not entirely on my own. Hypnosis and other mental conditioning have helped me to temporarily 'forget' some of who I was, and to keep me in character. The hypnosis failures over the last year around my 'disappearance,' the increasing silliness, I think there's been a bit too much done. Maybe too many instructions, too much conflicting direction. It'll be good to get back to being completely me again."

"Being you again? What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm going back to my old life. I'll finish being groomed by Father to take over the family business. Won't be too many more years I think, and with you having helped us get rid of Simmons and Bracken, it's a much bigger business than the one I left."

Kate shook her head, partly because of the blow to the head and partly because she still couldn't believe what Castle was saying. "Wha . . . left? You were already part of his organization when we first met?"

"Father and I had been giving considerable thought on how to eliminate Bracken and Simmons, without exposing Father, and then you walked in. Literally. When you showed up at my last Derek Storm release party, we couldn't believe the opportunity you presented to us – once we figured out who you were. A way into the 12th precinct to determine if Montgomery knew about Father, and then to get you or Roy re-engaged to take down Bracken and, if we were smart enough, maybe Vulcan too. And with Alexis hitting her teenage years and starting to question my explanations for the things she saw or heard, and with Mother just moved in, I needed to get away from the business for a while. Really, the timing of the opportunity you presented couldn't have been better."

"Rick, this is ridiculous. You can't be saying that you've been working me, been manipulating me, all this time. Everything I did – we did – to track down and arrest Bracken was to get my mother justice."

"Yeah, about that. Turns out we didn't have to be that smart – it's a lot easier if the tool you're using was already obsessed with the same goal. Maybe it took longer than we planned, but you did exactly what we wanted. Oh, Father sends his regrets – he's 'attending' to Vikram and the other agent, the one pretending to be his wife, so he can't be here to thank you personally for everything you've done for our operation. All in all, the last seven years have worked out well, I'd say."

Kate spoke with an edge of pleading bleeding into her voice. "I know you Rick. You can be a lot of things, but not this. Not a drug lord."

"Well, it's been lovely chatting with you this last time, but I am on the clock. I have a meeting with Father after we're both done cleaning up. Alibis, don't you know. Then I can get back to the cover I started with – after a sufficiently public period of pleading for my missing wife's safe return – playboy writer of mysteries, meeting and researching with underworld figures, spies, and unsavory characters of all types, all over the world, openly engaged in all sorts of questionable and borderline illegal acts. Running a drug operation is so much easier when you can hide in plain sight, with accompanying pictures in the newspaper. And with all the credibility I've gained with law enforcement, so much less likely to be suspected."

Kate tried a different tack. "OK, it's not a bad story, definitely not your best, but what is this? A 'Total Recall' payback for my 'Rear Window' birthday present?"

"Kate, please don't try anything. Remember that I pretty much hit what I aim at – even if I have had to act like I got lucky. So I can make this quick and painless – or not. Your choice."

She watched the man who she had thought of her partner in all things for always, aim carefully.

"Good-bye Kate."