Redemption-Book 1: Re-Emergence

by evitascarlett

No one told Johanna that picking up the pieces and moving on would be easy…but they never said it would be this hard either. A sequel to Apologize; dealing with the fallout and aftermath of Bracken's arrest as the family tries to heal and move on. Warning: This is a Johanna centric story. Cover art by LordofKavaka

1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Here we are, once again. I decided a clean slate was best and so we're starting over; in these early chapters there won't be a lot of changes but there are some differences; some things have been cut, others rearranged, new scenes added in some areas. This story is still Johanna's; you're not going to get a large Caskett focused story here so if that bothers you, stop right here. This is about Johanna's journey; yes Kate and Rick are apart of that and they will be included, but don't look for a bunch of fluff scenes featuring them because there won't be many. This story is listed as drama and family; I do hope to progress their relationship in certain places but I'm not overly concerned with keeping them on an even keel with Johanna's scenes. There will be characters from Reflections mentioned in these chapters of book 1 (I'm splitting the story into books); if you don't like Reflections, you probably won't like this story, feel free to move on. This story is a sequel and companion to Apologize (and Reflections) but is in no way an exact replica of Apologize; they are different stories and trying to shove Redemption into the same box as Apologize won't work; Redemption is it's own story, please keep in mind that you're not reading a clone of Apologize but rather a story that connects to it. To those of you who are staying around for the ride, I can't thank you enough for sticking by me and I hope you'll still find enjoyment here. I've split up the original first chapter; some things you remember may not appear until chapter 2. Please bear with me as I make adjustments and rework things. Thank you for your patience and support.

Chapter 1 – This Town

"Hold on, until the feeling is so strong, that the ground that you walk on is where you stand" – Clare Bowen

No one had told her that moving on would be easy. No one told her that the fallout would be easily handled; in fact she was sure she had been subtly warned. No; no one had told her it would be easy to pick up the pieces and move on…but no one had told her it would be this hard either, Johanna Beckett mused as she sat cross legged in the middle of her bed, flipping channels, doing her best not to stop on news channels and talk shows. Avoiding those things limited the amount of options she had for entertainment, but finally she found a rerun of the Rockford Files. She dropped the remote onto the bed and tried to focus her attention on the show, but she heard her husband's footsteps on the stairs. "Are they still out there?" she asked as he entered the room.

"Yeah; they're still out there," Jim answered. "I don't think there's as many today though."

She eyed him knowingly. "That's what you tell me every day."

"It's true every time I say it."

"Then how come the number always looks the same to me when I look out the window at our collection of media clowns on the sidewalk?"

He shrugged. "Maybe you need to put your glasses on."

"I need glasses for small print; not to see people," she remarked as she flicked a piece of lint from the knee of her black pants. She hated this. Why couldn't the media just leave them alone? She wasn't going to talk; didn't they get that yet?

"It's alright, Jo," Jim said as he sat down beside her and laid a hand on her leg, giving it a light squeeze.

"No it's not," she murmured. "I feel like the main attraction at the freak show."

Her husband smiled and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "You're too pretty to be in a freak show, sweetheart."

"Well I feel like I'm in one," Johanna replied as she laid the remote on the nightstand and then shifted to lean back against her pillows.

Once the news had broke that she was alive, she had felt like she had gone on display. The neighbors stared and acted like she had the plague. The media was insistent with their demands for interviews, comments and photos, and they camped outside the house nearly every day, waiting for the moment when she would come outside. She frowned as she remembered the first time she had seen her face and Kate's splashed across newspapers and the television. It was difficult to pick up the pieces when you knew the whole world was watching you; waiting to see what you might do...or how you might screw up next.

It wasn't supposed to be like this…she was home now; had been for a month and a handful of days…stress and tension should've been a thing of the past by now; at least that was what she had convinced herself of, but as always the universe had proved her wrong. Senator Bracken's brother, Adam, had taken great glee in being the one to announce to the world that Detective Kate's Beckett's mother was alive and well, fresh from witness protection and deeply involved in the arrest of the sinister Senator, as she privately called him. She blew out a breath, evil nicknames aside, she had found herself thrust into the limelight…and she hated it. This media storm had been raging for weeks and showed no signs of stopping as Adam Bracken kept things whipped into a frenzy. The attention only served to increase her anxieties as the outside world did its damnedest to pry into her life. It was hard to work through things when you were being hounded. It was hard to heal when the greatest agony of your life was being told over and over on television, being dissected by journalists and talk show hosts. It wasn't easy to settle back into normal life when the media followed you…when they set up camp outside your home. It wasn't supposed to be this way. In a city as large as New York, she should've been able to sink back into anonymity without much trouble…but nothing ever went as planned.

She wasn't supposed to still feel like a hostage…but she did; it was a different type, but it felt confining all the same. In Wyoming, she had been imprisoned by the rules of the F.B.I. and her reluctance to make up a detailed back story that would make things easier when it came to being social. She hadn't wanted to lie anymore than she already was, so she stayed to herself, waiting for the right moment that would bring her home. Once her feet had touched the soil of New York, she had felt a brief sense of freedom…and then that feeling of being a hostage; albeit, a different type, over took her as she found herself locked in Kate's apartment more often than not and living under her daughter's rules. She didn't regret it. She didn't resent it; she understood why things had to be the way they were at Kate's, but once in awhile she had felt that feeling of being confined. Now she was home with Jim and she was supposed to be free…but the world at large and her own anxieties made her feel like a hostage in her own home. Once again, it felt like being a different kind of hostage; one more easily dealt with since she was now allowed the comfort of her own home and the company of her husband…but still, it was a lot of weight to carry and her shoulders ached from the load.

Johanna glanced at Jim as he settled back against his pillows; he was dealing with the media pressure better than she was…at least for the moment, she mused. He was doing everything he could to make her comfortable, to ease her fears, to keep her shielded. He was being so understanding of her worries and fears...but she knew he had to be feeling the strain as much as she was. She worried about that; she didn't want to cause him more distress than she already had…and now it was right there at his door.

"Are you going to hide up here again all day?" Jim asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"I'm not hiding," Johanna retorted; tension lacing her tone. "And even if I was, I don't do it all day."

"What do you call it then?" he asked. "The blinds are closed downstairs and the doors are locked. They can't get to you or see you."

She sighed. "I know...but I hate having the blinds closed during the daytime. It makes me feel closed in. I like the sun to come in and warm things up...but I can't risk leaving them open because God only knows what kind of privacy invading cameras they have. At least up here I can have the blinds open and know that no one can see me...and I know this doesn't make much sense but I feel safer here; less exposed."

"I understand," he replied as he dropped an arm around her. She was having a hard time with all of the attention upon her, and he figured it was best not to push the issue for now. She was right anyway; she wasn't upstairs the entire day. She did go downstairs to cook and clean and she had no problem spending the evenings in the living room. It was just the mornings and afternoons when she wanted to watch TV that she chose to retreat back upstairs to hide in their bedroom...and that was only on the days when the media was outside their door.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For everything humanly possible," she answered; a soft humorless laugh escaping her lips.

He rubbed her arm. "I thought we already talked about that…and about how you don't have to keep apologizing."

"We did talk about it; but it didn't make me feel any better."

"You told me it did."

"The feeling was fleeting," she answered; not bothering to mention that she had only told him she felt better so they could drop the subject.

"We'll have to work on making that feeling permanent instead of fleeting."

Johanna moved closer and laid her head on his shoulder as her arm went around him. "Does this mean we aren't going out tonight?" she asked; bringing the topic back around to their unwanted guests outside.

He heard a note of hopefulness in her voice and he wasn't sure if she was hoping that they were or hoping that they weren't. She still suffered from a small amount of anxiety any time they left the house and he noticed that if she could avoid going, she would…especially now with the media after her. He didn't want her to live with the constant fear that she wouldn't get to come home if she left the house for an hour or two and he had been making it a point to take her to dinner at least once a week, and to drag her out to do errands as often as he could.

"Which are you hoping for?" he asked; his tone alluding to the fact that he knew that she was most likely hoping to stay in.

"Either way is fine with me," she answered.

"I have a feeling one scenario is more fine than the other."

"It's not so bad to want to stay home."

"It is when you want to do it all the time. I know you're afraid but..."

"I'm not afraid," she interrupted; although deep inside she knew she that was still a little afraid every time she had to walk out the door.

"Jo," he said; his tone saying everything without the need for words.

She closed her eyes. "I know; it's stupid."

"It's not stupid; it's just something we have to keep working on."

"Maybe I need my own car," she commented. She felt like she might be able to get over her fear faster if she was able to go out when the urge struck her. She also wanted to get over the fear of leaving the house and going by herself. She felt like if she could conquer that, then maybe all of her anxieties about leaving her home would abate and she could get back to normal.

"You don't need a car," Jim remarked.

"But when we were in Wyoming, you said I could bring my car with me, and when I said I'd rather get a new one once I got home, you said I could."

"I know, but I don't think you need to be out on your own right now."

She frowned. "I need a car, Jim. The other day, I wanted to go to the store to get a few things and you weren't home. I could've gone if I had my own car. Maybe I'd get over this thing faster if I had a little more independence."

Jim squeezed her shoulder; he was battling his own fears and he wasn't ready to let her go anywhere alone just yet. "Sweetheart, we'll get you over this. You don't need a car right now. Maybe when things settle down."

She released a weighted breath. "Jim, the only way either one of us is going to feel better about this is if I make myself walk out the door and get in the car and drive myself to the store or to Macy's or even to Katie's and then come back...all on my own."

He pressed a kiss against her hair. "No, Johanna. I'm not letting you go out alone. We're going to go out tonight as planned...and if we're followed, we'll just do what we've been doing. We'll ignore it and keep walking."

"Okay," she replied; resigning herself to the idea of going out; but the thought was in her mind that he was going to hang on to her a little too tight. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his protectiveness of her; she did and loved him for it. She also knew that he harbored his own fears about letting her go out on her own and she understood and respected those fears...in a lot of ways they were probably very similar to her own. But if he held on too tight, it wasn't going to help her and eventually it would become an issue between them. For now, she would drop it, she thought as she remained cuddled against him. Why borrow trouble when she already had plenty out on the sidewalk. She wondered how Katie was faring; after all, the media was hounding her just as much and she couldn't help but feel guilty about that.

Johanna breathed deeply and exhaled slowly; wherever in the city her daughter was, she hoped she was safe and wasn't being hassled.

---

"No comment," Kate Beckett said firmly as she pushed her way through the reporters that had somehow found a way to follow her to her latest crime scene.

"What was it like to find out your mother had been lying to you for thirteen years?" one of them called after her as she strutted down the sidewalk in hopes of reaching her car as quickly as possible. She could hear Ryan and Esposito heading off the vultures, as she privately called the hordes of reporters that made it their business to make her life hell these days. Her ears took note of the heavy footsteps that fell into step along side her and she didn't have to look to know that Castle had slipped into place.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She said nothing as she casually but quickly approached the driver's side of the car and jerked the door open and slipped inside. Castle slid into the passenger's seat and glanced at her as she put the key in the ignition. "No; I'm not okay," she answered. "I can't stand it. I don't know how you stand it."

He gave a shrug. "I'm used to media attention; it doesn't bother me."

"That's what I mean," she remarked. "How can you stand having these people in your business? How do you get used to it?"

He was quiet as he pondered the answer. "I think that when you choose a path in life that puts you in the public eye; you get used to it because you expected it, you signed up for it. I chose this life. You; on the other hand, didn't choose to be in the public eye. You were thrust into it...and being thrust into it makes you want to rebel against it; that's your nature."

"Is it wrong?" she asked.

"No...but they're not going to go away, Kate."

"They may as well; I'm not going to talk to them. I'm not giving interviews; I'm not doing photo-shoots. I just want to be left alone."

"I understand that; but maybe you should release a statement. It doesn't have to be anything profound or in depth. Just something small and maybe it will get them to ease up on you some."

"I made a statement," Kate replied.

He smiled indulgently. "No comment doesn't count."

"I'm not making a statement, Castle. They're not going to be satisfied with that. They want it all and I'm not giving it to them."

"I'm not saying that you have to give them everything; just give them a little something."

"Giving something will only make them want more," she said once again as she turned the key and started the engine.

"It was just a suggestion."

"I've taken your suggestion into consideration and decided to disregard it...but I still love you anyway."

He smiled; his hand falling to her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's good to know. I was afraid you'd accuse me of being on the other side."

"I know you're not on the other side."

"You do?"

She nodded as she shot a quick glance at him. "Yeah; you don't really have any choice but to be on my side."

"Is that so?" he asked; amusement coloring his tone.

"It is if you want to keep sleeping with me."

He laughed. "When you put it that way; you definitely shouldn't make a statement...unless the statement is to me and it involves the words 'ravish me now'."

"Ravish me now?" she laughed. "Have you been reading bodice rippers?"

"Of course not," he replied. "Rook just happens to be writing one in my current chapter."

"I hope he's not looking for that one to be a bestseller."

"I'm offended on Rook's behalf."

"Can I help it if Rook isn't the great writer that Richard Castle is?" she replied teasingly.

Her writer grinned. "I like how you did that, Detective; your flattery is clearly false but you said it such a way that I can convince myself that it's true."

"Ego stroking at it's finest," Kate remarked.

"I'm surprised you didn't write that on me with the Sharpie."

She shot him a grin. "I still could."

Castle smiled widely and was about to comment about what he might write on her but changed his mind as the precinct came into view. "We shouldn't discuss the Sharpies now."

"Why not?"

"Because we're here now...and I can't be that kind of excited here."

Kate laughed. "Good point. We'll put the Sharpie talk on hold."

"How about we go out to dinner tonight?" he asked.

"I'd love to," she answered as she parked. "But what about the media?"

"We were able to go out without detection the other night," he replied. "There's no reason that we can't have the same luck tonight."

"But what if we don't?"

"Kate; I know you worry about us being seen because of Gates, but you don't need to worry. We play the friend card for her. There's no law that says two friends can't go out to dinner together, is there?"

"No."

"And we can be careful while we're in public. We'll save the good stuff for when we're alone," he said; giving her an exaggerated leer.

She smiled. "You're right. I'm sorry; I know I'm..."

"You don't need to be sorry," he interrupted. "I know things aren't easy right now...and I have one other suggestion that might take a little pressure off of you."

"What?"

"They want a picture of you and your mother together."

"Castle," she sighed.

"Wait, hear me out," he said; holding up a hand to stop her words. "Let me take a picture of you and Johanna and tweet it. That way it's informal and it's on your terms...and maybe it will get them off her back too."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "I don't know, Rick."

"Just think about it, okay."

"Okay," she promised. "I'll think about it."

"Let me know when you're ready."

Kate smiled. "You're that sure I'm going to give in?"

He grinned. "You always give in to me eventually; you just can't help yourself."

She rolled her eyes but a smile touched her lips. "Let's get back to work."

---

As they entered the bullpen, Castle detoured to the break room to take a call and Kate headed to her desk.

"Beckett," Esposito said minutes later as he approached her.

She glanced up at him. "You couldn't have found something this fast unless the killer came in and confessed."

He smirked. "We're not that lucky."

"That's what I thought," she replied as Ryan stepped into place beside his partner. "So since we don't have a confession, what is it?"

The boys shared a look, silently asking each other if they really wanted to broach this subject. Chances were she wouldn't like what they were going to suggest.

"Guys," Kate prodded.

"We were thinking," Esposito began and then trailed off.

Kate eyed them. "That's almost as dangerous as when Castle thinks," she quipped; trying to ease the tension she could feel growing. They clearly had something on their minds and it wasn't case related. "What's this about?"

"About this media presence in your life," Ryan stated as he picked up the dialogue.

Her brow rose. "What about it?"

Ryan gave Esposito a subtle nod and look that seemed to convey the sentiment, "Your turn."

"Well we know how much of a nuisance it is for you when they find you at crime scenes," Esposito continued. "And we were thinking that if you wanted to hang back and lay low here at the precinct for awhile until things calm down, that we could handle the crime scenes."

She shook her head. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because no matter where we go, they seem to find you somehow," Ryan remarked; "And we know it's distracting and...we just thought maybe it would be better for you to stay here for awhile."

Kate glanced away for a moment, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. This intrusion into her life was an intrusion into their lives as well, she thought to herself. They were growing tired of having to chase off reporters for her while trying to do their jobs at the same time. It was unfair to them and suddenly she felt like a burden...and that wasn't a feeling she enjoyed.

"Guys, I'm sorry about all of this and how you've gotten dragged into it. It's an annoyance we don't need, but it's my problem, not yours and from now on, I'm going to handle it. You just do your jobs...and I'm going to do mine, they aren't going to stop me."

Esposito and Ryan had a feeling that they had been misunderstood. It wasn't a problem to shoo away the pests; it was her safety that concerned them. The two men had discussed this worry more than once as neither of them trusted Bracken, despite the fact that he was behind bars. He still had power; he still had people willing to do his bidding...like his brother Adam.

Adam Bracken was a pompous windbag; confident in his idea that he'd be able to free his brother...and therefore become a hero in his own right. In Esposito's opinion, Adam Bracken was akin to a cockroach; and he didn't doubt for a moment that the man would do anything his brother asked. Ryan had agreed with that assessment and their main concern was that an assassin could masquerade as a reporter and get close enough to her to carry out a vendetta. Bracken would most likely want revenge, and neither man felt that Bracken's quest to see the Beckett women dead had been quelled. They felt that if revenge was in the air, that Beckett was the likely target. Killing Beckett would be revenge against her herself...but killing her would also serve as the best form of revenge against Johanna.

Ryan and Esposito didn't share this theory with her, nor would they. There was a chance that it was completely unfounded and a product of their own paranoia. They didn't want to worry her more than she already was...because she didn't fool either one of them for a minute. They had worked together too long, they knew her too well. She was worried; about what exactly, they weren't sure, but it was there and they were on alert in regard to her worry and theirs. They just wanted to help keep her safe.

"Listen," Esposito stated his tone low and serious; "I don't have a problem telling these creeps to take their cameras and get lost. I could do that all day long. Hell, if I could, I'd fire a few shots at them. Just like when your mom called the other day; we went over there and told them to get the hell off her lawn. No problem..."

"Wait," Kate said; holding up a hand. "My mother called you?"

"Yeah; she said your dad wasn't home and that she figured since they saw him leave that they thought they'd be brave and inch their way up to the door."

"Why didn't she call the police?" she asked.

Esposito and Ryan gave her affronted looks. "She did," Ryan stated. "She called us."

"You're in homicide; not crowd control and trespassing."

"Well if we had gone over there and someone was trying to get through that door at her, there would've been a homicide," Esposito remarked; "Because I would've shot them, so we would've ended up there anyway."

"Besides," Ryan added; "We'd rather she call us than someone else. At least if it's us, we know the job is getting done and that she's fine."

Kate smiled. "She didn't tell me about this...but I appreciate that you went over there and took care of things."

"We have her back," Esposito replied. "Just like we have yours."

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"I just remembered something," Ryan said. "We weren't supposed to tell you that she called...that's why she didn't mention it to you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," his partner responded before looking back at Beckett. "You didn't hear any of this from us."

She rolled her eyes. "Why wasn't I supposed to know?"

"She doesn't want you to worry."

Kate rubbed her fingers across her forehead and then eyed them. "She fed you, didn't she?"

Ryan smiled. "It was a reward."

"A reward?"

"Yeah," Esposito answered. "We got rid of the reporters, made sure her doors and windows were secure; made sure that her gun was loaded and promised not to tell you or your dad anything about it. On the way out, she handed us a box of freshly baked cookies."

"Don't tell her we told you," Ryan commented.

Kate smirked. "Oh I won't; I wouldn't want to cut off your cookie supply."

"We appreciate that," Esposito replied.

A thought occurred to her then and she had to voice it. "Did my mother put you up to this idea of me staying at my desk instead of going to crime scenes?"

"No," both men answered; sincerity in both of their voices. "That's our idea," Ryan told her. "We just thought it might be best; we don't want you to get hurt because they're distracting you."

"You could just lay low for awhile," Esposito said once again. "We could handle the crime scene; and Castle could be here with you..."

"What, like my babysitter?" she asked; sudden annoyance flaring in her veins.

"No; it's not like that...it was just something to think about," he replied.

Kate shook her head. "No. I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to hide at my desk and let you two do all of the work while Castle baby-sits me. It's not happening. I appreciate the concern but I'm not changing my life because of this. I can handle it; I'm not distracted, I'm not going to get hurt. I'm fine...and this discussion is closed. Now let's get to work; Ryan, get that security footage screened. Esposito, start digging into financials."

They both gave a nod and walked away; they had known all long it would end up this way, but at least they had tried.

"What was that all about?" Castle asked as he settled into his chair.

"They want to chain me to my desk with you as my babysitter until the media backs off," she replied; her jaw tight with tension. "That's not happening."

"I figured that."

She glanced at him. "What? Do you agree with them? Do you think I need to hide out here because some jackass with a camera might spot me?"

Castle shook his head. "No, not at all. Don't think about it if it's going to upset you. Think about dinner tonight instead."

The thought brought a smile to her lips. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Good; now just keep focusing on that and forget about that little invasion at the crime scene. You don't have to worry about that here."

She gave a nod and took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly; focusing her mind back on her job. She had a case to solve and a date later; that was plenty to think about.

---

Johanna fussed with a strand of hair as she stood in front of the mirror that evening; finally finagling it into place and then fiddled with the diamond encrusted heart pendent that hung around her neck. Her stomach was in knots; as it always was when she thought about leaving the safety of home. An arm slipped around her waist; pulling her from her thoughts as she caught sight of Jim's reflection in the mirror as he stood behind her.

"You look beautiful," he stated, his voice close to her ear.

A small smile touched her lips. "You think so?"

Her husband nodded; his fingers gently fisting the soft burgundy material of her dress. "I like this."

"You'll wrinkle the material," she admonished lightly; prying his fingers loose from her dress.

"I don't mind," he quipped as he brushed his lips against her temple.

"I'm sure you don't mind; you wouldn't be the one looking unkempt."

Jim chuckled as he pressed a kiss against her neck. "I prefer your hair down, but having it up does have its advantages," he remarked; another kiss landing against her skin.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"I don't have to waste time brushing it out of the way."

She smiled and turned towards him; her hand sliding against his chest before she looped her arms around his neck. "Do you want to stay home?" she asked; a suggestive lilt in her voice.

He caught her lips in a kiss. "That's a very appealing offer but the rule has always been that on date nights, I have to buy you dinner first."

Johanna shrugged. "Rules are made for breaking."

"Nice try, sweetheart."

She frowned slightly. "So you don't want to stay home with me? I'll let you wrinkle my dress."

"I'll wrinkle it later," he promised. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and slipped out of his arms; picking up her evening bag from the dresser. "I guess so. Are they still out there?"

"No; no one's around. I think they gave up on us for today."

"We've thought that before."

Jim brushed a hand along her back. "It's going to be fine. I don't see anyone around out front. The car is out back, we can take the long way around to get out of the neighborhood just in case someone is lurking somewhere."

She blew out a breath. "Okay."

"Do you have your glasses?" Jim asked with a nod towards her purse.

"I'm pretty sure I put them in there," she replied.

"Check and see."

She smirked at him as she opened her bag. "I guess this means you don't want to read the menu to me again."

Her husband laughed. "You accused me of making half of it up."

"You were! I can squint well enough in candlelight to tell that much."

"I couldn't resist teasing you a little," he admitted as she pulled the red case that held her glasses from her purse and opened it to see if they were inside.

"I have them," she stated; closing the case and shoving it back into her bag.

"Good; I don't like to see you squint. You're going to make your eyes worse."

Johanna smirked at him. "Thanks for the lecture, Mom."

"Hey, let's not get insulting," he retorted in mock defense; giving her a gentle swat against her backside as she walked away.

She threw him a sassy look over her shoulder, "Fine; then keep your hand off my ass. You haven't bought me dinner yet."

Jim laughed and hurried to catch up with her; wrapping an arm around her waist as they descended the stairs. "Now let's not forget that lovely evening we had after your sister's wedding when you told me that I could put my hand anywhere I wanted. You didn't mention anything about buying you dinner first that night."

"I guess not, I was drunk. Besides, you're the one that said it had been the rule. I offered to break to the rule, but you declined...deals off and now you must buy dinner," she stated as he held out her jacket for her to slip into.

"I believe that's also what you told me about your proposal from that night," he recalled.

Johanna sighed. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

Jim shook his head. "It isn't likely."

"That's what I thought."

"Ready?" he asked; holding out his hand to her once they had made the trek to the back door. She took a deep breath to quell her nerves as she slipped her hand into his.

He watched her intently from the corner of his eye as he made sure the door locked behind them. Her hesitation before stepping outside the door had been a mere split second, which was an improvement as she usually found some way to stall.

As she stood on the porch next to him, her gaze darted around; scanning the area for cameras or reporters or anyone else who just wanted to get a look at her. "No one's here," he said quietly as he retook her hand and guided her to the car.

"I'm sorry," she murmured while he opened the passenger side door for her.

"Don't be. I know it makes you uneasy. I look around more now too; but you don't need to worry. I'm not going to let anyone get to you, Jo."

She gave him a smile; hating herself for being as skittish as a kitten when it came to going out in public now that world knew of her existence. She thought the fear would go away once Bracken was sitting behind bars...but it still lingered; and it took on new faces and roles. She was still afraid that something would come along and take her away from home and her family again; and that fear could feel suffocating at times. She just needed to try harder, she thought as buckled her seatbelt while Jim settled into the driver's seat.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she smiled. "Let's go."

He could hear the slight undertone of anxiety in her voice but he allowed it to pass without comment. She was putting on her brave face...he couldn't ask her to take it off. It was just going to take a little time for her to adjust. Thirteen years spent living a lie and among people who didn't know you wasn't freedom; and added to that were the months she had spent locked away in Kate's apartment out of necessity. Of course she was going to be nervous and apt to want to stay in. She just had to re-learn how to have her freedom to come and go as she pleased...and to know that she was going to be returning home every day.

She just needed time and patience, Jim thought to himself as he cast a quick glance at her while she fiddled with the radio. He would help her, she would be just fine once she felt secure again...and making her feel secure was his top priority.

---

"What was that call you got today after we got back to the precinct?" Kate asked during her dinner date with Castle that night. "It seemed like it annoyed you, whatever it is."

"It was Paula," he answered. "It was a book signing in LA that I postponed over the summer…she rescheduled it…it conveniently coincides with the new release date."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Yeah, I don't have much choice."

"When is it?"

"Next weekend."

Kate's brow rose. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"Tonight…or tomorrow," Castle said sheepishly.

She gave him a small smile. "Castle, you don't have to act like you're afraid to tell me these things. I know you have to be away sometimes; I mean we have been through this before."

"Yeah but that was different."

"How so?"

"We weren't together then."

"That doesn't mean I missed you any less," Kate remarked.

He nodded. "I always miss you too…but I hate to leave you; especially now with everything that's going on."

Kate subtly brushed her fingertips against his hand, erring on the side of caution as she kept their fellow diners in mind. "I'll be fine…and I'm sure you'll call every chance you get, right?"

"You know I will," Castle replied. "And you're more than welcome to stay at the loft while I'm gone."

"That's okay; I can go back to my place while you're gone."

"You should stay at the loft; Mother will be there...you know, because she pledged never to leave me after we dropped Alexis off at her dorm room. I'm sure she'd love it if you stayed."

"She might want some time alone with you away and Alexis at Columbia."

He shook his head. "Martha Rodgers doesn't like being alone too often. She'd love the company. Besides, since Gates saw that picture of you leaving the loft early that one morning and you told her you were staying in my guest room because my building was more secure against the press; staying there with Mother while I'm away might be a good way of convincing her that your story is the truth. I have noticed her watching us more closely."

"I know," she replied. "That's why I want us to be so careful in public. I figure if she doesn't see any evidence, she can't prove anything and I did mention that Martha lives with you when I was lying to her about where exactly I sleep."

"I know, and I think that mentioning Mother helped our story. So I think you need to consider it, not just for that reason, but also because you are better protected at my place."

He made valid points and she couldn't argue with them. "I'll think about it."

"Good…and if it makes you feel uncomfortable, you could always spend a night at your mother's."

Kate met his eye. "I don't need a babysitter while you're away."

"I know that; I was just making a suggestion…there does seem to be power in numbers given the way things are."

"I'm not staying with my mother."

Castle glanced at her. "She stayed with you for a whole summer."

"Exactly; our mommy and me time is over…especially with the media breathing down our necks. Space is best."

He gave a nod; knowing better than to push the subject of her need of distance…at least he wasn't the one she wanted space from; that was worthy of celebration in his book.

It grew quiet for a minute and then she caught his eye. "I'll miss you," she said softly.

"I'll miss you too," he replied. "But you don't have to miss me yet; we still have tonight and plenty more nights before our brief separation."

Kate nodded; she wouldn't think about it right now. For now, she'd just enjoy.

---

"I feel like people are staring at me," Johanna said quietly as she looked over her menu.

"They're not," Jim assured; although as his gaze darted around the room, he did notice a few people looking towards their table. He prayed that they didn't recognize them from the newspapers and television…he prayed even harder that if they did recognize them, that someone wouldn't call and tip off the press about their whereabouts. They hadn't been followed as far as he had been able to tell and he was hoping this trip would go much smoother than the last.

"It sure does feel like they are," his wife commented softly.

He smiled at her. "Sweetheart, the only person staring at you is me and I don't intend to stop; but you should be used to that by now."

Her lips curved upwards in a soft smile. "As long as it's you, I don't mind. I just don't like other people doing it…which of course makes me sound like your mother and that's not a nice thought to live with."

"Just think of it this way, your reasons are different than hers were so it's not the same at all."

Johanna thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "I think I can live with that."

"Good; I wouldn't want it keeping you up all night."

She smirked at him but it faded to a frown as she pulled off her reading glasses. "I hate having to wear glasses."

"I don't see why," Jim replied. "You don't have to wear them all the time; and besides, I think you look cute with them on."

"Well I think they make me look old."

He shook his head. "You're still as beautiful as you were the day I met you."

Johanna laughed softly. "I wish that was true."

"It is," her husband insisted.

She didn't have a chance to comment as the waiter appeared to take their orders and once he disappeared, Jim picked up their conversation.

"Do you remember the first time I took you to dinner?"

Johanna swallowed the sip of water she had taken and then sat the glass aside. "Dating, just friends, or business wise?"

He chuckled softly. "I meant the first time ever."

She nodded. "We had dinner together because of a case that I was assigned to work on with you. We went to that little diner that wasn't far from the office. I think we spent a total of twenty minutes discussing the case and the rest of the time we spent talking about everything else."

"What can I say, you fascinated me," Jim replied.

She smiled. "I was fascinated too...I still am."

"That's good to know," her husband answered as he took her hand and gazed into her eyes. "How long had we known each other at that point?"

"Three months," she responded; "And I'm sure the employees at that diner felt like we lingered for three months at that table."

He laughed quietly. "We always did have a habit of lingering."

Her fingers moved against his in an intimate caress as she held his gaze. "I've always enjoyed lingering with you," she told him; her tone soft and loving.

Jim brought her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss against her smooth skin. "In that case, we'll linger at every given opportunity."

"You won't hear any complaints from me," Johanna replied softly; her troubles temporarily forgotten.

---

As Kate was making her way back from the ladies room later that evening, she saw that Castle was in discussion with the manager as he remained seated at their table. She knew that he was friends with the man but the conversation looked serious and it put her on edge as she retook her chair.

"Is there a problem?" she asked as she caught Castle's eye.

"Not a problem per se," he answered.

"But there is something wrong?" Kate remarked as she regarded him with a raised brow.

He hesitated for the merest of seconds before answering her. "Renaldo has spotted a few reporters and photographers outside...now that doesn't necessarily mean they're waiting for us. It could be anyone."

"But with the way my luck runs, the chances of that are slim, right?" Kate replied.

He gave her a sheepish look. "We can always hope."

She sighed deeply; this was already getting old. "How did they find us? I kept checking for a tail on our way here and I didn't see anything."

"I don't know, Kate. One of my fans might've spotted me and tweeted where I was and that I was with someone. Someone in here could be a member of the press and sent a tip to their newsroom that we're here or someone could've recognized you or both of us and posted it online while waiting for their meal. It could've happened in any number of ways."

Kate's studious gaze flicked to the silent Renaldo. "It wouldn't have been a member of your staff, would it?"

"Of course not!" the man exclaimed in a hushed voice. "My staff is aware that we cater to a high profile clientele and they are well versed in our privacy policies. They know the penalty for breaking it."

That might be, she thought to herself; but that didn't mean a member of the staff wouldn't try to line their pockets by calling in a few tips to the tabloids and newspapers about the evenings guests.

"Kate...I hate to say this but it's just going to keep happening as long as you stay silent. By refusing to give them anything, you make the chase of you all the more appealing," Castle stated gently. "You're a challenge...if you take away some of their motivation, they won't think you're worth the hassle."

"Castle; we've already been over this. I'm not talking."

"Then give them the picture and see if it helps."

"If you wish, Miss," Renaldo stated; anxious to help now that his restaurant had been accused of tipping off the media; "You and Mr. Castle are more than welcome to leave by the back entrance."

Another weighted breath passed through her lips as her eyes closed in irritation. Was this what her life was being reduced to? Sneaking out back doors, hiding her face behind her hand or a folder, having her team feel that she was better off at her desk. It felt so wrong in so many ways. She didn't want to hide...that was her mother's game. She didn't want to emerge once or twice a week and hide behind sunglasses while she did it like Johanna Beckett was. She didn't want to hide...if she did that; she'd feel like she was letting them win…like she was turning into her mother who seemed to have lost some of her sassy spark once the media had descended.

"No," she stated. "I'm not going to creep out the back door like some thief in the night."

"Are you sure?" Castle asked; "Because it's not a problem if you want to go out the back."

"No," she said firmly; "I'm not doing that. Pay the check and let's go. We're going out the front door like everyone else. I don't have anything to hide."

Castle eyed her; studying the stubborn set of her jaw as he debated whether he should try to talk her out of it. He decided against it, her mind was mad up and fighting her on it would only make her angry and their evening would be shot to hell as she'd feel the need for space.

"Okay," he said with a nod as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and paid the amount on the check that was already on the table.

As they walked away from the table, his hand fell to the small of her back. "Are you ready for this?"

She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. "As ready as I ever am."

The flash of a camera went off as soon as they pushed through the door, and the throng of voices shouting questions sounded immediately there after.

Castle shifted; shielding her somewhat as he smiled widely. "Guys, I know the preview of the new book is awesome but this is a little much."

"We don't want to talk about the book," one of the reporter's yelled.

"You haven't read the preview of Frozen Heat?" he asked in mock offense. "Do you want me to send you a copy? I can autograph it."

"We want to hear from Detective Beckett," someone else yelled.

"Okay," he said; "Kate, how did you feel about the sneak peek of Frozen Heat?"

She smiled; she knew what he was doing and she appreciated it. "It was fantastic; I loved it."

"There you go," Castle said as they kept walking; "A glowing endorsement from the woman who inspired it. It doesn't get better than that."

"Are you two dating?" a reporter called out.

Castle laughed. "Why would you think that?"

"You just had dinner together at an upscale restaurant; that screams date night."

"I heard no screaming," he answered; "And besides, can't a man just treat a friend to a nice meal? She works hard, she puts up with me; which is no easy feat, she deserves to be spoiled once in awhile."

"Detective Beckett, when are we going to see you with your mother?"

"Do you hate her for what she's done?"

"How did it feel to take down someone as big as Senator Bracken?"

"Do you really think he'll be convicted?"

"Don't you have anything to say about this?" one of them asked as they approached the waiting town car.

She turned to look at them; "Yeah, I do have something to say."

A hush fell over the small crowd as they waited for her statement. Kate smiled as she regarded them coolly; "No comment," she stated and then she climbed into the back of the car; the disgruntled groans of reporters and the flash of cameras following her.

Castle grinned and bit back a laugh as he faced the crowd. "Are you guys sure you don't want to talk about the book?"

"No!"

"Come on, it's destined to be a bestseller," he exclaimed. "Anyone want an autograph?"

They began to disburse and move away and as they did so, he yelled after them; "Fine, be that way, but just know that the mean reporters in my next book are based on all of you!"

Kate was laughing softly as he settled in the back seat with her and she looked at him with love in her eyes. "Thanks, Castle."

He covered her hand, his thumb caressing her skin intimately. He wanted to kiss her so badly but he didn't dare, not knowing if a photographer was lurking somewhere and might get a shot of them. "No problem; if I can deflect them away from you, I will."

"I appreciate it."

"I know. Do you want to go out for a drink or would you rather go back to the loft and have a drink there...and then you could stay," he added; fearing she might suddenly need space and demand to be taken to her own place after all.

She smiled. "You say that like I haven't been spending most of my nights with you."

"I was just re-enforcing the knowledge that the welcome mat is still out...right at the foot of my bed."

"My plans haven't changed, Castle. I'm going home with you. As for the drink...maybe it would be best to have one at home. They'll probably be on the lookout for us now and I really don't want to go through that again tonight."

He gave a nod and leaned forward in the seat to speak to his trusted driver; telling him to take the long way plus a few detours on the way home in effort to lose anyone who might try to follow.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Kate squeezed Castle's hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I know you were hoping for our night out to be more than what it was."

He shook his head and dropped an arm around her. "Hey, you don't need to be sorry. We had a wonderful dinner together and I'm thankful for that and now we're going home together...as long as the night is us being together, than it's perfect and nothing else matters."

She laid her head on his shoulder; "It's frustrating though to feel like we have to go home...and I know, we don't necessarily have to, we could take our chances, but...they make me not want to take the chance and that makes me feel like I'm not being fair to you."

"Kate, I get it and it's fine. Did you have a nice time at dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Then the night was a success. Don't let it bother you, okay?"

She nodded; but she was still bothered; how could she not be?

---

As they stopped to pay the bill on their way out, Jim glanced towards the glass doors and studied the people lingering outside of it. He saw a camera and tensed; it might not be what he thought. It very well could be a tourist or just someone who had been out taking pictures for some reason…but why would either be lingering outside of this restaurant…looking through the glass as if they were waiting for someone. It had to be some sensationalist journalist, and he used the term journalist loosely. One of the staring patrons must've recognized them and tipped off the press after all. Couldn't they just leave them alone? He squeezed Johanna's hand and she glanced at him, offering him a soft smile even as her eyes silently proclaimed, "I told you so" before disappearing behind the sunglasses she had fished out of her purse while they were at the table.

A flash went off as soon as they stepped outside the restaurant and Johanna's body instantly filled with tension as she clung to Jim's hand. A small group of people converged on them and they walked faster, trying to get to the car as quickly as possible. Jim gently shifted them away from the center of the sidewalk; positioning Johanna so her unoccupied side was nearly brushing the fronts of buildings they passed and therefore keeping anyone from falling into step beside her. She tried so very hard to keep her composure, to act as though she couldn't hear the words that started hitting her ears as soon as they had stepped away from the restaurant.

"Mrs. Beckett, where were you for those 13 years?"

"Didn't it bother you to know that your family was being told you were dead?"

"How were you able to just carry on with your life?"

"If you knew the case you were working on involved corruption, why didn't you go to the authorities right away?"

"Why did you come back now?"

"Don't you feel any remorse for ruining a man's life?"

"Are you ever going to speak?"

That was rich, Johanna thought to herself. Why the hell would she have remorse for the man who ruined her life and the lives of her family?

"How does the rest of your family feel about what you've done?"

"Have they forgiven you?"

"Are you estranged from your daughter? She's never been seen with you?"

"Does she hate you for lying to her?"

The questions kept bouncing off of her like ping pong balls as she pressed herself as close to Jim as possible while still being able to walk. They were too close to her; breathing down her neck, making her feel like they were sucking all of the air from her body. Jim released her hand and wrapped his arm protectively around her waist; allowing her to meld into his side as she lowered her head. She hoped the trembling of her hands wasn't noticeable, nor the feeling of anxiety that was making her chest feel tight as flashes continued to go off around them.

Their words kept filling her ears; sounding far off as she tried to remind herself to breath properly.

"How do you feel about Adam Bracken saying that you and your daughter are nothing but lying bitches and he intends to sue you both along with the city for defaming his brother with these malicious charges?"

She felt Jim stiffen and she dug her fingers into his side, silently begging him not to respond; it would only make things worse, but they wouldn't let up…more words filled the air, blending together in her mind as she struggled to hold it together.

"She's not the criminal," she heard Jim saying. "So why don't you all back off of her and my daughter and go harass the man responsible for all of it?"

His response only egged them on as they approached the car. Jim kept a hold on her as he shifted her so that she was between him and the car, keeping her shielded as he reached around her and unlocked the door for her. He opened the door and carefully ushered her into the car while still keeping her shielded from the vultures who insisted on hounding them. Once she was settled into her seat, he hit the lock and shut the door.

"What kind of man takes back a woman who lied to him for 13 years and caused so much chaos?" a reporter yelled as Jim rounded the car to the drivers side.

Anger flooded his veins and he turned to face the pack of wolves; because that's what they reminded him of. "The kind of man who loves his wife and is grateful that she was saved from the fate that some vile, cold blooded bastard saw fit to plan for her. I love my wife; nothing will ever change that and I'm thankful that she's alive and back home where she belongs. Now that's all you need to know. Leave us alone," he stated as he opened the car door which Johanna had unlocked for him, and slid into the driver's seat amid the glare of camera flashes.

Jim started the car and pulled away, the cameras still clicking in a frenzy as a few voices still persisted in calling out. He glanced toward Johanna, she was silent and still in the passenger seat, her head still lowered. When he stopped for a red light, he laid a hand on her knee. "It's alright, Johanna."

She covered his hand with hers and raised her head, pulling off her sunglasses as she did so. "I want to go home," she said softly.

Jim had hoped that after dinner they would find something else to do in the city to keep them out awhile longer, but now that the media had found them, it didn't seem like a good idea. They didn't need a second encounter tonight. He gave her knee a light squeeze. "We're going home, sweetheart."

Johanna's throat tightened, it wasn't supposed to be this way. They were supposed to be getting on with their lives. They were supposed to be doing all of those things they had dreamed of while sitting in Kate's apartment, waiting for the day when they'd be free. Their date nights were supposed to be romantic; not filled with the fear of who might be waiting outside for them. Their days were supposed to be spent in any way they saw fit; not hiding behind closed blinds and curtains. This was supposed to be their time…their continued rebuilding of their relationship as they made up for all they had been robbed of. She was supposed to have peace now…oh she was better off than she had been; that was for sure…but in so many ways, she was still a hostage. It wasn't fair; she hadn't committed the crimes but she was paying for it…and she felt like she had already paid for it far more than she should've ever had to.

A soft cry broke free against her will; the tears tumbling down her cheeks in rapid succession. It felt like this was never going to end.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Jim said quietly. "Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she murmured as she tried to regain her composure.

He shook his head and hazarded a quick glance at her as he made the turn that carried them into the quieter part of the city. "You don't have to apologize for it…I just feel helpless when you cry. I always want to fix what's wrong…and sometimes I don't know how."

"Neither do I," she sniffed. "But just know that I'm always fine as long as I'm with you. Just being here with me is all you ever have to do to fix things."

"Being with you is something I can promise; it just doesn't always feel like enough when something hurts you."

"It is," his wife insisted as she laid her hand over his as it gripped the steering wheel. "Because you've always been everything that's right and good in my life. No one can take that feeling from me."

He gave her a small smile at that declaration and she returned it with one of her own. She meant every word, no one could take that feeling from her…no matter how many stones they threw, and yet, she couldn't exactly shake the bad feelings that this new phase brought. It still felt like someone somewhere was still trying to take something from her and she hated that feeling.

---

Martha was seated on the couch with a glass of wine when Castle and Kate returned home. "I didn't expect to see the two of you back so soon," she commented. "Is something wrong?"

"We weren't as lucky this time as the last time," Castle answered as he poured a drink for himself and Kate. "We were spotted."

Martha's gaze slid towards Kate and she smiled sympathetically. "Darling, I'm so sorry you have to go through this."

"Thanks, Martha," she replied as she carried her drink to the sofa and sat down.

Castle followed and took the chair, his gaze flicking towards the TV. "The news, Mother? That's not one of your usual viewing preferences. Did you get arrested and you're waiting to see your mug shot on television?"

Martha smirked at him. "No; I'm saving that publicity stunt for next month when my show opens."

"Good thinking; Lindsay Lohan style publicity is just the thing to boost ticket sales," he replied wryly.

Kate laughed softly as the actress eyed her son. "For your information, Richard; I just like to be informed about what's going on in the world."

"Since when?"

The redhead looked to Kate. "Darling, are you sure you want to put up with him?"

She laughed. "Well I've been doing it for this long, why stop now?"

"You're a brave soul," Martha replied. "As for you, Richard; since being informed involves the people I care about, I make it a point to tune in."

"The people you care about?"

Martha sighed in exasperation. "You, Kate, Johanna. If I waited on you to tell me everything I needed to know, I wouldn't know much of anything."

"Now that's not true," he retorted.

"Shhh," Kate shushed as Adam Bracken's face appeared on the screen.

Martha and Castle fell silent as they listened to the man issue his usual spiel about his brother's innocence and about how we was going to sue everyone from the police department to the state of New York and everyone in between. As a post script, he looked into the camera and added, "And I want Kate and Johanna Beckett thoroughly investigated."

"Great," Kate said sarcastically as the news changed stories.

"It's nothing to worry about," Castle said. "You don't have anything to hide…do you?"

"No; but that doesn't mean they won't make something up."

"He's just running his mouth, Kate. Nothing will come of it. Like I said, you have nothing to hide and you'll be able to disprove any claim he makes. I'm sure the same goes for your mother. She doesn't have anything to hide, does she?"

Kate regarded him with an arched brow. "You mean anything besides what we've already dealt with?"

That statement made him hesitate and he moved forward with caution. "Yeah…besides that."

"I should hope not," she answered. "But God only knows."

Martha laid a hand on her wrist, drawing Kate's gaze to her kind blue eyes. "Kate; don't let this make you doubt everything you know about your mother. I'm sure that there's nothing that's cause for concern."

She gave a nod as she shoved a hand through her hair. She supposed that it might've been unfair of her to think that way in regard to her mother. She hadn't been the type of lawyer who took bribes or threw cases or picked her clients on the basis of what regard their case could bestow upon her. Before Pulgotti, Johanna Beckett had lived a normal, honest life, where her only lies appeared to be about how a dent got put in the car and how much a certain pair of shoes really cost. She hadn't lied when she said she forgave her mother for the lies she had to tell to stay alive. She did forgive her, she understood, she loved her, and she was grateful that she was alive and well. But sometimes…sometimes she still felt that raw edge of anger simmering deep inside of her. Sometimes the stress crept up and made her feel a measure of resentment. Sometimes she felt all jumbled up about her feelings when it came to her mother.

"It's going to be alright," Martha said soothingly. "You'll see."

Kate allowed a small smile to touch her lips as her gaze flicked back to the other woman's face. "I know…I'm just not used to this."

"Hopefully it won't be this way for long, kiddo."

Castle picked up the cue to change the topic and while Kate participated in the conversation as much as she could, her distraction and downturn of mood was obvious.

---

It was late when Johanna padded into the kitchen that night and turned on the lights, her fingers hurriedly fumbling for the dimmer to spare her eyes the sudden harshness of bright light after being adjusted to the darkness. If the room was too bright her eyes wouldn't tire and sleep would continue to elude her…and dimness suited her mood as well, she mused as she crossed the room. She opened the cupboard door and lifted her mixing bowl off the shelf, her hands gently gripping the ceramic of the well loved sky blue bowl with its white floral design. Her eyes closed in remembrance of how she had come to own the bowl and its smaller counterparts that it shared the shelf with. They had been a housewarming gift from her mother…she had been six months pregnant at the time, eager to put them to use but too busy from work and the move and too tired from her rapidly advancing pregnancy to do much but admire them the first several weeks that they had taken their place in her cupboard. Finally, three weeks before Kate was born, she had a bout of insomnia and had gotten up in the middle of the night to bake a cake, baptizing the bowl with her homemade cake mix in the wee hours of the morning. She smiled a little, recalling how she had invited her mother over for cake the next day to show her that she had finally gotten to use her gift.

Johanna sighed and allowed herself to feel the sharp edge of longing for her mother's love and comfort and then she pushed it away, setting the bowl on the counter as she reached into another cupboard and took out a package of her homemade cake mix. She needed a sweet indulgence…a distraction…a connection to simpler times. She gathered her ingredients and moved to the table but she couldn't shake off the lonely feeling that surrounded her. The house was quiet, Jim sound asleep upstairs in their bed. The neighborhood was quiet too, thankfully. She had peeked out the window of the front door when she had come downstairs to make sure no reporters were camped out in their yard. She hadn't seen any signs of anyone lurking…but she had doubled checked the locks just in case. Instant notoriety wasn't for her; she didn't know how celebrities stood it. All she had wanted was to sink back into anonymity with her husband and go on with her life as best she could…but nothing was ever that easy when it came to her.

Needing to shake off the cobwebs, Johanna moved to the counter and turned on the small flat screen TV that resided there. The TV had set on the counter in the house in Wyoming; she'd been set to leave it behind but Jim had talked her into bringing it home, saying he'd hook it up for her so that she could watch her cooking shows in the kitchen in case she got inspired. She had to admit that it was nice; it kept her from being in silence in her favorite room…but the television also carried a stigma that she was trying to get past. It was a reminder of Wyoming and everything she wanted to forget. It was on that TV that she had seen Kate's face the day she had been shot. Some days she could push those thoughts from her mind; other days they nagged and she wondered if things were really so bad that even every day objects could haunt her with her miserable past.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as she flipped the channels, landing upon some gossipy celebrity show. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and glanced at the clock; it should be off soon…and if memory served, a much more appealing rerun of I Love Lucy would be on another channel in the next time slot. She could deal with the tabloid trash on the screen for a little while as long as it served its purpose of being background noise.

Johanna grabbed a cake pan from the cupboard and then set about mixing up her cake batter. She had just poured it into the pan and was scrapping the bowl when she heard her daughter's name on the TV. She hurriedly turned to watch the screen, her jaw tightening as she watched the footage of reporters hounding Kate and Rick earlier that evening after what appeared to have been a dinner date. Anguish and anger filled her as heard the questions and comments hurled at her daughter. Why couldn't they leave her alone? Katie didn't deserve this…neither did Jim; and yet they were both being subjected to it. She watched as Rick kept trying to deflect the attention away from Kate and to himself but it only seemed to serve up the speculation about their relationship.

Another sigh crossed her lips; if the media discovered Katei and Rick's true relationship; Rick would get the boot from the precinct and she was sure that her daughter would blame and resent her for it…and she'd have a right to. The footage of Kate ended…and she soon saw herself on the screen; footage of her and Jim as they left the restaurant rolling now. She cringed; her eyes shutting against the sight, her insides quivering as she listened to the barrage of questions all over again; those encounters were one reason why she hated to leave the safety of her home. The tape ended but the discussion among the shows hosts didn't.

"I believe Johanna Beckett could be termed a virtual recluse," the male host of the show announced. "She seems to venture off her property only about once a week and she looks like she hates every minute of it while she does it."

Johanna frowned; she did hate it and they were the reason why. It was impossible to find joy in an outing when you had to wonder who might be waiting for you outside…but she hated the term 'recluse'. She wasn't shunning the outside world on a whim; she was shunning it because they left her no other recourse…and because she still carried fear. The hosts of the show continued to talk and laugh about her and Kate and their demeanors and she forced herself to hold back the tears as she picked up the cake pan to put it in the oven. It felt like a little more weight had been added to her shoulders…and she didn't know how to ease it. She didn't know how fix things for any of them.

---

Later that night, Kate carefully slipped out from beneath Castle's arm and quietly tiptoed to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. As she located and slipped into her pajamas, she couldn't help but think about how quickly she had amassed a collection of her belongings in his bedroom. She wondered briefly if that should worry her, but then decided that it shouldn't. She doubted that anyone would accuse them of moving too quickly…quite the opposite as a matter of fact. She crept to the door and moved stealthy through the darkness, taking refuge in his office. She settled down in his desk chair, pulling her knees up against her.

She was supposed to be sleeping easy now…or at least she had believed that she would sleep easy once Bracken was arrested, but truth be told, she could probably count on one hand the number of nights she had slept easily since their return from Wyoming. Kate blew out a breath; things could never be easy, could they? She wasn't a fool, she had known all along that the arrest wasn't the end…it was just the beginning of the next phase. The very public next phase.

Her stomach knotted; if there was one thing she hated, it was for her privacy to be invaded. She was reminded of the time when she was five and had made the trek across the hallway early one morning with the intent of waking her mother, only to find the bedroom door locked. When she had questioned why the door had been locked, her mother had sat her down and explained that sometimes mommies and daddies needed privacy. In her explanation of the concept of privacy, she had told her that it was something everyone needed at one time or another and that it should always be respected and valued. She had taken that lesson to heart; especially as she had gotten older, and she clearly remembered that when she had turned thirteen and had decided that she needed to lock the door when she was changing clothes, that her parents had understood her need to do so and hadn't questioned it. They had even started knocking on her door before entering if it was closed, just as they had taught her to do when their door was closed; regardless of if it was locked or not.

The media intrusion into her life reminded her of that thirteen year old girl she had been who was afraid of being walked in on while changing. The media wanted to catch her exposed and vulnerable, and all she wanted to do was to lock the metaphorical door. Of course it wasn't just her upbringing that made her feel that way. She had spent a lot of years keeping people at a distance, picking and choosing what to reveal and to whom, and she had always done that with great deliberation. She kept her personal thoughts and feelings to herself unless you were fortunate enough to be on the short list of people allowed on the inside. The world at large wasn't on the list. You didn't let too many strangers on the list when you were a cop; the less people who knew your weak spots, the better off you were.

Kate sighed; the question was; how did you keep the door shut and locked when so many people were banging on it at once? Her pain wasn't for public consumption. She couldn't and wouldn't share it with anyone other than those in her immediate circle…but she had to do something, because this was already getting annoying and ridiculous. She couldn't afford the distractions at work, and she didn't want them on her dates either. She had hated to cut their evening short; hated even more that it had taken her awhile to unwind and get back into the romantic scheme of things once they had returned to the loft. The trial was still a few months away, which meant she had many months to come of dealing with the media. It wasn't going to go away.

Maybe Castle was right; maybe she did need to make a small concession. Maybe releasing a photo of her and her mother together wasn't really a bad idea after all. They were taking pictures anyway, at least this could be one of her own choosing…and maybe if she took away their motivation, they'd back off for awhile as Castle had said. He was more experienced in this area than she was; she'd probably be wise to take his advice. She smiled; a few years ago she would've never envisioned herself having that thought.

He was right though, she reasoned; a picture was a silent way to make a statement. Neither she nor her mother would have to say a word. All they had to do was sit down and allow Castle to snap a photo. He would then act as a buffer between them and the media by releasing it via his Twitter account. The world would end up with what they wanted; a photo of the reunited mother and daughter, and maybe they'd have a few days peace. Of course she would need her mother's cooperation and participation but she couldn't imagine that she'd say no. She was sure that she'd be agreeable to anything that got them a break. The decision was made, Kate thought; they'd release a photo. A small weight lifted from her shoulders but she made no move to return to bed.

The media wasn't the only turmoil lingering in her mind. She was still afraid...terribly afraid that Bracken would somehow get away with his crimes. Logically, she didn't see how he could, given all the evidence that had been amassed against him, but still she worried that he might. He was doing his damnedest to convince the public that he was innocent; or more exactly, he was having his mouthpieces do it for him. Most specifically his brother Adam. She frowned, recalling Adam Bracken's most recent statement.

"My brother will be cleared of these heinous and erroneous charges against him; and when he is, we fully intend to prosecute the people responsible for this miscarriage of justice to the fullest extent of the law, and that includes the NYPD."

Bracken's camp had been making various statements of that nature every few days, and usually in the midst of it, they would try to malign the integrity of her and her mother. She knew that they had the jury pool in mind and that they were trying to sway public opinion in their favor in regard to that...and she could only pray that it didn't work and that the evidence would be enough to convict him. But what if it wasn't? Bracken had contacts and he still had some power somewhere as his camp was clearly buying off certain media outlets.

Speaking of which, he had money. Not as much as he had a few months before as the majority of his accounts were frozen...but still, he had enough. Kate was certain that Adam Bracken's money was probably as dirty as his brother's; and she couldn't help but wonder and worry if the man would become a problem later on. What if Bracken was able to buy his way out of this? If that happened, it would all start over again; maybe not right away, but eventually Bracken would want his revenge and he'd come at them with a vengeance. A shiver slid down her spine; she didn't want to think about that. It was unlikely to happen anyway. She was just paranoid, and with good reason. Kate breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. She'd be fine once she got the media off her back a little, and was able to get a good night's sleep. It would be okay. They had won the battle; they would win the war too. There was nothing to worry about...at least she hoped there wasn't.

"Kate?" Castle's voice called out softly; startling her and causing her to flinch.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" he asked as he approached her.

"I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep."

"Is something on your mind?"

"Yeah; but I've made a decision about it," she replied.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

She looked at him in the dim light of the city that filtered through the blinds. "I've decided to let you take a picture of me and my mother and release it."

He perched on the edge of the desk. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah; I figure it's worth a shot."

"Do you think Johanna will be okay with this?"

"I think once she hears us explain our reasons, she'll be fine with it."

"Us?"

Kate smiled. "We're in this together, remember?"

"Absolutely," he replied; reaching out to brush a knuckle against her cheek.

"When do you want to do this?"

"I figure we can go over there and talk to her about it in the morning before we go to work."

Castle nodded. "Alright; now that that's settled, do you want to come back to bed? I'm getting lonely in there."

She laughed softly as she rose from the chair and wrapped her arms around him; capturing his lips in a kiss. "I can't have you being lonely."

"No you can't," he replied as he took her hand and led her back to his bed.

---

The clock on the nightstand had read 3:34 and as Jim neared the kitchen, he could smell the scent of a cake baking. He shook his head; he should've known that the appeal of the mixing bowl would be too great for Johanna to pass up in the face of their latest encounter with the media. As he entered the room, he took note of the ingredients sitting on the table, if memory served him correctly, the collection of items seemed to indicate that she planned on making her mother's white icing. His wife wasn't at the table however, and his gaze scanned the spacious kitchen in search of her; finding her standing at the back door, peering out into the darkness. He moved towards her, slipping his arms around her waist just as he had done earlier in the evening.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like this town," she whispered.

"What about it?"

She breathed deeply. "It's one of the greatest cities in the world; so much to see and do and experience. Packed with theaters, restaurants, clubs, landmarks, museums, shopping, concerts, ballparks...you name it, it's here. Every day there are celebrities of every ilk walking down the streets; along with politicians, diplomats, foreign dignitaries, tycoons...so with all of that going on out there, why do they have to bother us?"

He kissed the back of her head and tightened his hold on her. "Because you did the impossible."

"If it was done, than it wasn't impossible," she murmured. "It felt impossible...but all I wanted was to end the nightmare and wake up and be home again. I wanted to save Katie...I just wanted to be with you. I wanted him to pay for what he had done to us...but I didn't want this. I didn't want people camped outside our home and following us wherever we go. I hate being stared at and talked about. I know it's all new to them...but it's not new to us. We've been carrying it for thirteen years and we're tired...but they don't seem to think of that or to care. They just want it all; comments, statements, stories, pictures. It's like the world thinks we owe it our pain. Don't they get it? I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget."

"You're never going to be able to forget, Johanna."

She bit her lip; tears filling her eyes. "It would be easier to try though, if I didn't have to feel like I had to hide my face."

"You don't have to hide. You didn't do anything to be ashamed of."

"It's hard to feel that way when people are shouting things at your back as you walk by. Liar. Coward. Bitch. Defender of Scum. Destroyer of lives; and the list goes on and on."

"You're none of those things, Johanna," Jim remarked firmly.

"Aren't I?" she whispered. "I ran, I lied, I..."

"You had no choice," he said sternly; his fingers digging into her waist without notice or intent. "You're alive because you did the right thing, and I don't give a damn what anyone thinks about it. All that matters is that you lived, and that bastard is behind bars where he belongs."

"They added 'recluse' to the list of names tonight," she murmured after a moment of silence.

"I didn't hear anyone say that."

"I turned on the TV while I mixed up the cake batter."

"I told you to stay off the news channels," Jim stated; casting a glance over his shoulder at the small television that sat on the counter. He had hooked it up for her when they came back from Wyoming so she could watch her cooking shows in the kitchen; not so she could torment herself with the news.

A humorless laugh escaped her. "You can't shield me from it, Jim. It's everywhere. There's no escaping it. Just when I thought one nightmare was ending, a new one began."

"It's going to be alright, Sweetheart."

"No it's not," she cried; a sob breaking free against her will. "Sometimes it feels like it's never going to be alright. They caught Katie out tonight too. I saw it on TV...and I just know in my heart that it's not going to take long for her to get fed up with this and she's going to blame me, as she should; and she's going to push me away...and maybe this time I won't be able to get her back."

"That's not going to happen, Jo."

"It will," she insisted. "If I was in her shoes, I'd feel the same way. It's only a matter of time...and I hate seeing them hound her and the things they say...and sometimes I wonder when you're going to start to resent me for it too; because I know you can't stand it anymore than I can."

He turned her so that she would face him and he took her face in his hands. "I'm not going to resent you for something you have no control over. You don't need to be worrying about that at all. Yes; I hate it too, and it's frustrating...but it bothers me more that I can't keep them away from you, than from myself. It's only been a month, Johanna. Things will die down soon and they'll move on to something else."

"I hope it's soon," she whispered; laying her head against his chest.

"It'll be soon," he promised; although she didn't believe it and nether did he.

"I always used to think that this was my town," she said quietly. "I walked everywhere, I had no fear...and now it feels like it's turned against me..."

Jim shook his head. "No it hasn't; it's still your town...or city as the case may be."

"Maybe I am a recluse," she commented; ignoring his statement. "Every time I walk out the door, I'm terrified. I'm so afraid that something will happen to keep me from coming home."

"That's not going to happen again, sweetheart. I swear to you that you're always coming back."

Another sob broke free as she burrowed into his arms. "I want to see my brother," she cried; "But I'm too afraid to go to him because I might be followed and then the media will know where he's at and I don't want them beating on his door. And I think that he hasn't came here because he knows they're always lurking around...and it isn't right...and the police say that as long as they stay on the sidewalk and don't actually come on to our property that they can't do anything about it...and it just doesn't seem right. How am I supposed to put my life back together when I'm constantly being watched...when I'm so afraid of so many things...when I can't even see the people who are willing to see me?"

He knew how badly she needed that contact with her brother. He and Valerie called her every few days but she needed to see him, she needed that link to her past and to her family. Frankie was probably the only person left who had known her from the day she was born. She needed that bond and her roots. He raised her face and wiped her tears away. "You'll see your brother," he told her. "I'll get you there, we'll figure something out."

"What about the rest?" she asked; referring to her fears.

"You're doing fine. It's just going to take a little time for you to feel better about things, and to get used to being able to come and go as you please again. I know you're afraid, that's why I keep dragging you out for any reason I can think of. We'll get you through it. It's going to be fine. Just try to relax, okay?"

She took a shaky breath as she nodded and swiped at her cheeks. "Hey," he whispered; cupping her face.

"What?"

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you too," she replied before kissing him.

"Why don't you come on back to bed and get some sleep?"

"I have to get the cake out of the oven. It has to cool and I need to make the icing to put it on it."

"You can do the icing tomorrow."

Her teeth sunk into her lip as she considered the idea, and he could tell that she was finding it less than tasteful. "Morning is only a few hours away," he commented. "I'm sure it will be fine without icing until after breakfast."

She smiled softly. "Okay."

Jim brushed a kiss against her lips. "That's my girl."

He stood by and waited as she took care of the cake and made sure the oven was off and then he took her hand and turned out the lights. Once they were settled back into their bed, he pulled her into arms, making her smile in response. "I figure I better keep a hold of you or you'll be back downstairs putting icing on that cake," he teased.

She laughed softly as she cuddled against him. "I'm staying put...I got a little chilly standing over by the door."

He pressed a kiss against her hair and pulled the covers more securely around her. "You go to sleep then, I'll keep you warm."

"You always do," she murmured; the sound of his heartbeat in her ear as his fingers found his way into her hair. Soon sleep had claimed her, and her husband drifted off as well, despite the fact that his mind was trying to come up with ways to take away all her worries and fears.

Authors Note: The picture will feature in chapter 2; some of you may remember that is was originally in chapter 1.