A/N: Several months ago, heypiasano gave me a story idea: What happened after Castle and Alexis returned from Paris? The minute I got it in my head, my brain went on instant overdrive (was actually up till 3am writing that night, and for several nights after). And then I put it down to complete other stories. I've worked on it bit by bit as the inspiration struck, and after several re-watchings of Target and Hunt, and tonight I finally decided it was time to start posting.

This story will likely be about 7-8 chapters, much of which is already written and just needs some fine-tuning. Please note that this is based on canon and includes some flashbacks, but really the rest is just my mind wandering though an alternate universe of 'it totally could have happened like this...'

heypiasano - I hope you enjoy it.

"Mom, there's something I want to tell you." Rick Castle smiled at the look of questioning on his mother's face. She was so thrilled to have them back that she really didn't notice the way he called her 'Mom' instead of his typical 'Mother'. She also didn't notice that despite the smile on his face, the tone in his voice implied a hint of seriousness. Martha was just so glad, so relieved, to have her family back that she wasn't aware that the next words out of her son's mouth could literally change her world.

But Alexis noticed. So focussed on his mother was he, that Castle didn't discern Alexis looking up sharply, a small breath catching in her throat. She knew what he was going to say, and she wasn't so sure it was a good idea.

She had just reminded him in the hallway, not a minute before making their grand entrance to the loft, that they had been instructed not to share the real story of what had happened in Paris. Not with anyone. They had sat in a room with a very serious man in a very serious suit, who had warned them about the very serious ramifications of telling others what they had been through. She even felt uncomfortable talking about it with her own father, and he'd been there.

Sure, when she brought it up to her dad in the hall she had made it sound like a casual part of the conversation. Just a simple "I know we're not to supposed to talk about what really happened, but thank you, for everything." Partly she didn't think she could ever thank her father enough for coming to Paris, for tracking her down, for working with his own, previously unknown father, to save her. But really, she knew he would need the reminding.

Alexis knew her father was a storyteller and she was sure it would kill him to try to keep this story quiet for long. And then her resolve faltered, her analytical mind doing what it did best: reviewing the facts, weighing the pros and cons, deliberating. Was it really a problem to talk about it? After all, it was just Gram and Kate, and they could be trusted right? And maybe it was better for them to talk about it, just within their little family, because as strong, or maybe more aptly, as strong-willed, as she and her father could both be, Alexis knew this was something that she would be processing for a very long time. Maybe it would be better to have someone else to talk to about everything, someone with a different perspective, someone who might understand her...female...point of view.

Castle was oblivious to all of this. He just sat on the kitchen stool, staring at his mother across the island, wondering just exactly what the right words were. But regardless of the warnings of the men in the suits, of his far too practical daughter, Castle knew that this was a story he had to share. He gently fingered the pages of the book in front of him. The book that was possibly the greatest influence on his young life, on his entire life, and he hadn't even realized who had given it to him.

"This book is from my father."

It was simple. The words came to him clearly. The story of what had happened to Alexis, and to him, in Paris was complicated, the players were fierce, the dramatic finish was still ringing in his ears. But the story of his father, it could be simple. He met his father.

"What...? Richard? How could you possibly know that..." Martha was ready to laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement, of his insinuation. She glanced to Kate, expecting to share a patronizing look of 'he must still be reeling from the stress', but Kate stared blankly at Castle, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes willing him to look at her, to share what he knew. Martha's eyes sought out her granddaughter, always ready to share in a knowing 'Dad will be Dad' look, but Alexis struggled between looking nervously at her father and staring at her shoes. Finally, she looked back to her son. She raised her eyebrows, tried to smile, but as she looked into his eyes, she suddenly knew it was true.

But how could this be?

Her face instantly dropped and Martha fixed her son with a serious glare unlike anything any of them had ever witnessed from her. "Richard Alexander Rodgers you tell me what you are talking about right now."

Rick smiled softly back at her, the creases around his eyes deepening both from the stress of the last week, and from his efforts to set his mother's mind at ease. He briefly noted the use of his full name, somewhat appropriately taking him back in time to his childhood, but resumed his story.

"My father's name is Jackson Hunt. Well, at least that's the name he gave me, though I guess it really isn't his name." He felt Alexis reach over and place her hand lightly on his. When he glanced at her, she smiled, knowing just how important that meeting had been. No matter how often Castle had suggested that he was okay with not knowing who his father was, Alexis always felt deep down he must have a longing to unravel the mystery that surrounded him. And even though really none of his questions had been answered, just knowing his father was out there now made Castle feel as though a hole, one whose existence he had never fully appreciated, had at least partially been filled. He knew Alexis understood his need to share the story with his mother and with Kate.

"Richard, you're not making any sense. How do you know this?"

Returning his attention to his mother, Rick spoke again. "Mother, my father works for the CIA. My father is a spy." He smiled again, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes.

"Castle, is this another one of your crazy theories? Is this because of Sophia Turner?" Castle's eyes flipped quickly to Beckett at the mention of his former-muse-turned-rogue-CIA-agent.

"What? I..." Suddenly it dawned on Castle that he had not even considered Agent Turner once since Alexis had been taken. But now, with the veil lifted, his mind flashed back to the brilliantly white cavernous room in the hotel basement.

Castle and Beckett were forced to their knees, the traitorous Agent Sophia Turner pointing her gun at them as her accomplice rushed off to set into motion the events that would cause World War III. "Don't worry, I'll make it sound heroic. Your father will be very proud."

Kate stared at him dumbfounded. He felt the same.

"My father?" His eyes trailed back to Sophia, his mind racing to put together the pieces.

"Well, you don't think you gained access to the CIA back then because of your charm do you?"

He tried to make sense of the enormity of what she was saying. My father is CIA? He struggled through shock, disbelief, denial. His mind spinning, his mouth forming soundless words. Really, there had been no words.

"You really don't know do you?" Pity. Her voice dripped with pity.

Almost in the next instant he was staring down at her lifeless body. The answers to all of his unspoken questions locked away behind silent dead eyes.

...You really don't know do you... The words rang in his head. She knew. The whole time he had been with Sophia, she knew. And she didn't say a thing. Not. One. Thing.

Back to the present Castle refocussed on Kate's question. "No, Beckett, this has nothing to do with her. And it's not a theory. It's true." Looking back to his mother, Castle reached across the counter and took her hand in his. "Mother, my dad...I met my dad. He helped me save Alexis."

"What...?" Tears welled in the older woman's blue eyes as she looked back and forth between Alexis and Castle for confirmation. Finally, unable to speak, she locked her gaze on Kate. Gaining strength from the warm golden brown eyes staring back at her, Martha finally calmed her nerves enough to let the truth of Castle's words settle in.

Recognizing that Martha needed time to process what she was hearing, Kate spoke up on her behalf. "Maybe we should all go and sit down in the living room. Martha? Can I make you some tea?" Martha nodded in thanks as Castle stood and ushered his mother to the sofa. Alexis trailed behind, hesitation in every step.

Castle caught Kate's eye and smiled warmly. Kate felt that perhaps this was something that Castle and Martha and Alexis needed to talk about together as a family. But then he walked back to her, putting his hand on her cheek and pulling her towards him adoringly. "Kate, you don't need to stay away. You're part of this family too, you know. I want you to share this with us. I want to tell you everything."

When she looked back at him questioningly, wondering just how he knew exactly what she had been thinking, he pulled her closer and kissed her softly. It was a deep, gentle, intense kiss. It said everything to Kate that Castle's words had tried to express. You're part of this family...

...Please don't do anything like that again without me... Kate had said those words as he clutched her tightly a few minutes ago.

...I won't... he had said. And he meant it.

Pulling back finally, Kate saw in his eyes that Castle both needed and wanted her to stay near him. It had been a long few days, ones that they both needed to talk about, and she needed and wanted to stay near him too.

She raised her own hand to his cheek, mirroring his touch, and smiled. "I'll be right there. I'll just put the kettle on."

Once they had all settled in the living room, Martha, her strength and voice returned to her, spoke up. "Okay kiddo. Start from the beginning. And don't leave anything out." She waggled a finger at him and smiled, his role model for diffusing tense situations.

Castle spent the next hour going through, from his perspective, all that he had seen and done in the last few days. His decision to fly to Paris, meeting with Gaston for un cafe and for information, finding Jaque Henri and his sidekick 'La Taupe', and the dungeonous underworld that was Paris' sewer system. He shared in detail, weaving together the sounds, sights and smells of Paris, throughout his tale of mystery and intrigue.

When he got to the part where he had finally found the room in which Alexis and Sara had been held, he pulled his daughter closer to him. She curled up in silence, eyes focussed on a loose thread from her shirt sleeve that was apparently fascinating, but it was obvious to them all that she was a million miles away. Or at least as many miles as Paris was from New York.

As they sat in silence, Kate, Alexis and Martha felt like Castle was reading from one of his books. It all sounded too spectacular, too impossible, too gritty to be a real life story. They were completely mesmerized and found they were holding their collective breaths when he described the double cross - Henri's act of deceit and Castle's impending death as he knelt in front of a firing squad of men in black, and not the charming Will Smith kind.

Knowing how it ended, Castle took a few liberties to set the scene. He described the swirl of the mist around the trees, the harsh echo of the guns cocking to fire, the sound of Henri's voice as he explained that the money was just too good to not walk away with it. Just when his audience was baited and ready, he described in vivid detail the next few moments, as the men in black fell to the ground one by one around him until no one was standing but he. And he was technically still kneeling.

Silence settled amidst them all, their breath coming in short bursts as they got caught up in the scene Castle had described. Looking around he wondered if maybe his storytelling was a little too good. He had gotten rather absorbed in the tale, and now the tension in the room was on the verge of suffocating. He worried that maybe he had painted too real a picture for everyone. Alexis had lived her own horror, did he really need to be telling her his? And Martha, well, she was about to hear the part of the story that could shake her to her core if he didn't handle it right. Maybe he needed to lighten the mood...but how?

Beckett looked at the two redheads flanking either side of Castle as they looked at him in terror. She was right there with them until she caught a look on Castle's face, one she had seen before, and instantly she knew.

"You had your eyes closed the whole time didn't you?" She asked with a mischievous grin on her face.

Castle snapped his eyes towards her, Alexis and Martha following suit a moment later. Kate just smiled at him until he laughed lightly back at her.

"The whole time," he admitted.

"Oh Richard..."

"Dad!"

The two women surrounding him playfully slapped his arms and admonished him with disapproving looks.

"Ow! Hey, take it easy," he laughed. He caught Beckett's eye and they shared a moment of understanding. They knew each other's looks so well by now that neither needed to say a thing.

"Richard, did that even happen?"

"Yes, it did. Well, at least that's how I envisioned it. I really was on my knees and they really were going to kill me. The next thing I knew there was gunfire and then they were all dead on the ground. Even Henri. When I looked up, they were all just lying there and I was alone."

"Alone? But then who shot them all? Did they try to kill each other for the money?" Martha was struggling to put the pieces together.

"Well, I thought I was alone because at first, I couldn't see anyone else. But then he was there. He just walked up to me, out of the mist. I tried to reach for a gun. I thought he was going to kill me too, but he didn't. And then I recognized him." He looked at Beckett. "He was the guy in the sketch, the guy from the farmhouse. He tried to get me to go with him, said we weren't safe there but I wasn't about to go anywhere with him until he told me what was going on. And that's when you called."

"That's where you were?" Beckett looked back at him in shock. "All I heard was you said you were glad I called, and then the phone went dead. I tried to call you back but it just kept ringing and no one picked up. I wasn't even sure you heard me."

"I did, but it barely registered before he grabbed the phone from my hand and shot it into pieces."

"He shot your phone?" Kate looked at him bewildered.

"Yeah. Said that's how they were tracking me. How they knew where I was."

"So what did you do?" Alexis asked, her voice small and timid.

"Well, I got in the car and went with him."

"Richard, you went with this madman who had just gunned down all those men? What were you thinking?" Martha admonished.

"Well, let's just say he made some valid arguments." Rick answered cryptically.

"You expect me to trust you?" Rick asked incredulous at the man's gall, but still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

"You're still alive aren't you?" he replied casually. Then, "What are you going to do? Stay out here in the woods with all the dead guys?"

Yeah, damned right I was getting in that car.

"So you just got into the car with this killer?" Martha couldn't fathom why he would do such a thing.

"No, mother, I got into the car with my father." He paused for a moment to let the words sink in again. "I didn't know it then, but it was my father who saved me. He introduced himself as Jackson Hunt, but in the next breath told me that wasn't his real name. I didn't find out he was my dad until later. He had pictures of us," he looked at Alexis tenderly. "He's been keeping track of us, had childhood pictures and newspaper clippings and...he read my books." Rick smiled a little at the memory. Finding out the man was his father had been a shock, but at the same time, it seemed to fit.

"Richard, are you sure it was him?" Martha spoke quietly. Rick found it unsettling to hear her so unsure. She seemed all of a sudden fragile and hesitant, not the flamboyant, confident, over the top woman that she usually was. He had had time to come to grips with Hunt being his dad, but Martha was clearly reeling from the news.

He turned to face her and took both her hands in his. "Yes, Mother, I'm sure."

"And you said he works for the CIA?"

"Yes. He said that night you had together, he was at the end of a mission, he thought he was done, out. But then things went wrong and he had to run. He said it was a year before he was even back in the US, before he found out about me. But he didn't want to jeopardize our safety by contacting us."

Rick gave his mother time to let the news sink in. Maybe this wasn't so simple after all.