A/N: SO! I've been gone for a while. See: Lack of Inspiration and General Laziness. However, I'm BACK and this little something wouldn't leave me alone. The title comes from a Red House Painters/Jenny Owen Youngs song. It's Called "Have you Forgotten" and the Cover my Jenny Owen Youngs is amazing. I'll post the lyrics at the bottom for anyone who wants to read them. The Song by the Red House Painters can be heard on YouTube but the Cover can be found on iTunes if you're interested.

So, the story. I'd like to think that it occurs sometime after my other fic "After the Storm." However, You don't necessarily have to read that one I guess but Castle and Beckett are together.

We'll get kinda Angsty I'm sure (I'm a dark and twisty person) but there will be moments of light and it won't be as long as After the storm. Ok, enough babble, enjoy and don't forget to drop me a line to let me know if I should bother continuing.

Rated T b/c I tend to curse like a sailor (I'm from the NYC Metro area, what do you want from me? It's a cultural responsibility down here.)

Don't own 'em.

Kate Beckett was having a shitty week. It started with a flat tire. It then moved to a ridiculously difficult case to solve. There were suspects that they thought alibied out that didn't, and people lying to them on an hourly basis. It just served to piss her off more and more. Furthermore she was alone; very alone. Castle was off doing a book signing in California as a favor to a friend in need.

He told her before he left of the story of this bookstore owner that he had met on one of his first trips to the sunshine state. The man had given him a chance and put his first book in the window and advertised it heavily to everyone who came in. Years later, they still kept in touch but the large chain stores were running him out of business. So, naturally, Castle offered to do a free three-day signing to bring attention to the place. Kate admired him for offering, but she truly missed him this week. She would never tell him that.

The week rounded out with a really hard takedown of their murderer. She wound up chasing the man four blocks in heels, jumping a fence in an ally that smelled suspiciously of excrement, only to be attacked by the man on the other side. Naturally she won, but not before a few shots to the ribs, a nasty couple of scrapes on her hands and face, and a sprained knee from a hard block of one of her kicks.

Now, she had the weekend off and she was on desk duty when she returned until she was cleared by her doctor. She was exhausted, she was sore, she was irrevocably cranky and, on top of that, on this day, there was an anniversary that she would rather not have to think about. It was her mother's birthday.

Her Mom's birthday was always a tough one for her. It wasn't as bad as the anniversary of her death, but it was close. She usually buried herself in work after her morning breakfast with her father and this day was to be no different... in theory. The breakfast with her Dad had always been a nice tribute to her life before. Young Kate and her Mom would always go out the morning of Johanna Beckett's birthday and get a manicure and pedicure. They would follow that up with a celebratory trip to the local diner, where they would indulge in an extremely greasy breakfast. While Kate was glad she had those memories to look back on, they also caused her an immense amount of pain knowing that she couldn't make any more of them. She did, however, try to make a few more with her Dad whenever she could.

She went to that local diner with her Dad that morning and talked about everything and nothing. They had a good time and shared some memories of Johanna Beckett before parting ways. She went to work and her Dad went to the local soup kitchen to volunteer for a bit. Some days, Kate would join him but she had an ongoing investigation to get back to. Her father assured her that was enough.

Kate Beckett had always helped people in one way or another. When she was four, she came to the rescue of a friend at preschool by stopping another child from biting them. What did it matter that she socked the potential biter and was scolded for it? Her Mother gave her a lengthy lecture on how violence wasn't the answer; her father took her out for ice cream for standing up to the "little punk." When she was eight, she came home holding a stray, injured, Black Labrador puppy that had been attacked by a bigger dog for its scavenged food. She convinced her parents to let her get the puppy medical attention and keep it. She named him Mantle after the famed Yankee that her father loved so much. When she was twelve she took Mantle to the local children's hospital to create some cheer for the kids. She continued that tradition until she was seventeen; when Mantle, unfortunately passed away.

Like any teenager, Kate had a rebellious stage. She didn't get into trouble, per say, but she did push her luck… a lot. Still, she couldn't give up the part of herself that helped people. Every Sunday for four hours, Kate Beckett would disappear. Her friends knew she wouldn't be available, but never knew where she went. The boys found it mysterious, the girls found it annoying, but Kate Beckett didn't care. Depending on the day and the weather, she would go to the local YMCA, Nursing Home, or Park and play Scrabble, Chess, or Cards with who ever wanted to play. Mostly, she was fawned over by the older gents there, who would share stories of Wars, Grandchildren, or "pretty girls like herself." On some days, she played various sports with young kids, or tutored and read to them.

When her Mother was murdered, it took the help right out of her. She was helpless and no one could help her either. She stopped helping for a while. She didn't show up for many Sundays and the people that counted on her, missed her. She became angry and guarded. She was intelligent and was used to having things make some sort of sense, but her mind could find any reasons for this. Nothing made sense anymore. How could she help when the world was just going to be cruel? Eventually she figured it out and she would have loved to go back but time constraints and general embarrassment kept her away. Instead she switched her major, doubled her effort in school, graduated early, and went right into the academy.

She got over the bitterness that overcame her but it still grabbed hold of her sometimes. Today was one of those times. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to talk to anyone. Hell, she didn't even want to know anyone right now. All she wanted was to be normal, but she knew that could never be. She made that judgment when she chose her career path and when life dealt her a shitty hand and took her mother away forcefully, and far too early.

She was in physical pain with the emotions she was experiencing. It hurt to breathe and it hurt to just be. All she wanted was to close her eyes and fall into a deep, numbing, sleep but every time she tried, the sleep simply eluded her. She couldn't help the feeling that she wanted to escape from something. She wanted to escape her skin; her brain; her life. She needed to get out. The lump that occupied her throat and the burn behind her eyes begged to be released. No, she thought, I won't let this take me over.

She crawled out from underneath her covers of her bed and limped into the living-room, settling herself on the couch. She turned on the television and tired, in vain, to distract herself from her thoughts. Just as she started drifting peacefully away, she heard the voice she hadn't hear in twelve years whisper her name. Katie?

She jumped with a start and looked around the room. She felt like the sound was carried in on the wind but she knew it was her mind playing tricks on her; giving her exactly what she wanted to hear.

The sob rose slowly from her throat. She tried desperately to stop it from spilling forth but she couldn't. She was wider awake now and she finally gave into the miserable pain she was feeling. She groaned pathetically before letting go and surrendering to unrelenting sobs.

She was moping on the couch, red-eyed and exhausted when there was a knock at her front door. She groaned and considered ignoring it when the knocking became more insistent.

"Okay." She relented, moving herself from her couch and grabbing the crutch she was forced to lean on. "I'm coming."

CLICK ITTTTT! Please?? With a Cherry on top?

Lyrics:

I can't let you be 'Cause your beauty won't allow me
Wrapped in white sheets like an angel from a bedtime story
Shut out what they say 'cause your friends are fucked up anyway
And when they come around somehow they feel up and you feel down
When we were kids we hated things our parents did
We listened low to casey kasem's radio show
That's when friends were nice to think of them just makes you feel nice
The smell of grass in spring and october leaves cover everything

Have you forgotten how to love yourself?
I can't believe all the good things that you do for me
Sat back in a chair like a princess from a faraway place
Nobody's nice when you're older your heart turns to ice
And shut out what they say they're too dumb to mean it anyway

When we were kids we hated things our sisters did
Backyard summer pools and christmases were beautiful
And the sentiment of coloured mirrored ornaments
And the open drapes look out on frozen farmhouse landscapes

Have you forgotten how to love yourself?