Summary: AU When Castle's life is threatened, Kate makes the choice to leave everything behind to go after her mother's murderer. Two years later, she returns. But will Castle take her back? Or has too much time passed?

A/N: As a reminder, flashbacks are in italics.

Thank you to those who left a review for the first chapter. I love reading people's reactions as a story progresses.

Chapter 2: The Tale

Two blocks later, he caught sight of her. He did not notice that she walked slowly and favoring one side, only that her chin was down and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Castle also ignored the dirty looks and shouts he received as he side-stepped people and continued running down the sidewalk.

Once he was half a block away, he yelled "Kate!" to get her attention. She stopped immediately but did not turn around until he had reached her. Her face was guarded but her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. She said nothing, waiting for him to speak.

Rather than attempt to explain his behavior at the loft or in any way verbally express what he was feeling, he did what he wished he'd done the moment he saw her on his doorstep. He enveloped her in his arms, one hand snaking around her back as the other cradled the back of her neck against him.

Surprised by his actions, Kate almost resisted the touch. But after a few seconds, he felt her body relax into him as her arms moved around his waist to hug him back. She seemed thinner than he remembered, her ribs more pronounced. And she was not wearing her typical heels, so she seemed smaller, more vulnerable. But she still smelled like cherries.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I've missed you so much, and then you just show up out of no where..."

"It's okay," he heard her say in a tiny, broken voice.

"When you left, I was so angry, and so hurt..."

"I'm sorry," she tried to say, and he interrupted.

"...but then when you were gone so long and I couldn't find you, I thought you must have died. He must have killed you."

Five private investigators turned up nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. Three months after she disappeared, her letter to him the only indication of why she had gone or where, one of the PI's turned up a witness who remembered seeing her. An old woman spotted her at a seedy motel for a few nights, but the information produced no leads. If Kate had stayed there, she paid cash and blended in enough to be ignored by the other residents.

After that, the PI's only gave sporadic, unsubstantiated reports. A pretty brown-haired woman living in a box in an area heavily populated by vagrants. A young woman making a public records request at city hall. Castle would have even sworn to seeing glimpses of her face now and then - on the subway, in a passing cab, even in store windows. At first it gave him hope. Then as time passed, it made him worry that he was losing his mind. Finally, about a year ago, all such reports stopped.

"I had to stay away from you, Castle, and from everyone else," she explained. Pulling away from him just enough to look him in the eyes, she continued, "He went after you because he knew you were close to me, and I had to do everything possible to take away that incentive."

He had so many questions for her. They bubbled up inside of him, fighting with each other to get out. But they were standing on a sidewalk, out in the open, and he had been wary of that kind of vulnerability ever since being shot. Looking around, he spotted his usual coffee shop at the edge of the block. Not caring that he was still in a tuxedo and would probably stick out like a sore thumb, he suggested, "Hey, let's go get some coffee and sit down. I think we have a lot to talk about."

She looked at him with such an expression of indescribable emotion, at first he thought she might refuse. But after a moment, she bit her bottom lip, looked away, and nodded. "Yeah, I think we do."

Ten minutes later found them at a table in the back of the coffee shop with two steaming paper cups between them. Castle noticed that she ordered tea rather than coffee and when asked her name by the barista, she did not hesitate before giving another name, "Susan." But when she saw him watching her with interest, she ducked her head in embarrassment. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"So how is Alexis doing?" she asked, and Castle was glad for the distraction of an easy topic.

"She's good, thinking about doing pre-med. She's almost finished with her second year at Columbia, and she has an internship lined up at a doctor's office."

"And your mom?"

"Still driving me crazy every chance she gets, although she just moved in with her new boyfriend."

The way Kate nodded seemed strange, as though the information he had relayed did not surprise her.

"And you?" she asked finally, meeting his gaze in a way that reminded him of the old days at the precinct.

"I'm not seeing anyone, if that's what you're asking. Tracy, the woman you saw at the loft earlier, is just a friend."

He could not tell if she seemed relieved or disappointed at this revelation. "You started writing again," she observed.

Heat Lost.

With Frozen Heat already with the editors when he was shot, the only book he'd written since her disappearance had come out over three months ago. Gina had screamed at him on a weekly basis for the first year, but he was too absorbed in looking for Kate. Only when it became clear that she was gone and he had no way of finding her did he turn back to writing, drowning himself in a fictionalized version of her.

Critics had both acclaimed and panned Heat Lost, which ended on a cliffhanger as Nikki's character was thrown into a van by masked men and whisked off into a dark future. Some said it was more non-fiction than fiction as he relied too heavily on his relationship with a real NYPD detective. Others hailed the book as a bold tale of mystery and romance and clamored for the next one.

"Did you read it?" Castle inquired. He had dedicated the book to her. A simple desperate plea, it said: "KB - Come back to me."

She looked away from him, focusing on the door as people came in and out of the coffee shop. "I bought it this morning. I haven't had a chance to read it yet."

She was the same, and yet, after two years, she was also so different. Part of her seemed lost, as though she had been adrift too long without anything to hold onto. Another part of her just looked relieved to have finally found solid ground again.

"Kate," he said gently, hoping he wasn't staring at her like he would a ghost. "Where have you been all this time?"


Two years earlier...

Withdrawing her life savings from the bank had been easier than she thought it would be, although her request for bills smaller than $100 had earned her an annoyed look from the teller and a private audience with the bank manager. Luckily, he had spotted her badge clipped to her belt and without further discussion obliged her request to the extent possible.

Packing up her apartment had likewise been easy. After putting together a bag of essentials to take with her, Kate boxed up the things she wanted to keep and put them in pre-paid storage. She left instructions with the super to donate anything else to charity and gave her notice, forgoing the return of her last month's rent.

Calling her father had been difficult, but when she explained her motivation, she thought he understood. Of course, he tried to talk her out of it. He even pled with her to reconsider. But nothing would persuade her. She desperately hoped her decision would not send him back into the bottom of a bottle.

Handing her letter of resignation to Gates was even worse. After reading the short lines she had written, resigning her position and ending her hard-earned career with the NYPD, the Captain looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Is this because of Castle being shot?"

"Yes, sir."

The older woman nodded, and said something unexpected. "Well, you let me know when you're ready to come back. In the mean time, good luck to you." Then she shook Kate's hand.

Her last stop was the hospital again, the hardest part. She had been gone all day and knew that visiting hours were over, but a word with a familiar nurse got her into Castle's room. Everyone else had gone home but an officer was still on guard in the hall as she quietly slipped inside. She noticed that a multitude of flower bouquets had livened up the room as well as a bright "Get Well Soon!" balloon and a teddy bear with sad, droopy eyes.

His complexion still pale but improved from the night before, Castle lay in bed, fast asleep.

A glance at the monitor reassured her of his steady heartbeat as she took a seat in the chair beside him. Resisting the urge to take his hand, Kate simply sat and stared at him for several minutes, as though trying to memorize every aspect of his face and form.

She knew what she was about to do would hurt him. It was inevitable. But she considered her motives to be well intentioned. After all, his life was at stake. What wouldn't she do to save his life? She was already prepared to sacrifice her career and however many months it took to find this guy. She had no call to hesitate in her plan over the fear that Castle would never speak to her again, would never forgive her.

Becket had already rejected the idea of telling him in person. The letter she had written in the early hours of that morning contained all the information she wished to give him, and it had the added benefit of guaranteeing his silence on the subject until after she was gone. A cowardly act, she acknowledged, but she worried he would talk her out of the plan if she shared. And it was too important. Too much was at stake.

Her lack of sleep the night before had begun to catch up with her as she sat in the hospital room. Rationalizing that she would only rest her eyes a little while, she let fatigue overtake her as the steady beeping of Castle's heart monitor lulled her to sleep.

Close to an hour later, a nightmare startled her awake. Before the details faded, Kate could remember the echoing sound of a gunshot, people screaming, and blood. Underlying all of that was a picture of Rick Castle's face - the image eternally burned into her memory from the day she was shot, his brown hair framed by a clear blue sky that matched his eyes. Those eyes were so full of anguish as he held her, begging her to stay with him. Except, in her dream, she was the one looking down at him bleeding out on the grass as he begged her to help him, to save him.

If she had been wavering in her determination before, the sharp edge of the dream made the decision for her. Kate stood up and after carefully watching to make sure Castle was truly asleep, she leaned over to lay a gentle, feather-light kiss on his forehead. When he gave no sign of awaking, she pulled the letter she had written from her purse and looked for an appropriate place to leave it.

Spotting his closed laptop on the bed near his feet, she slid it inside with just a bit of the paper peeking out. Of course the writer could not be without the tool of his trade. At least she was sure he would see the letter in relatively short order.

Kate took one last look at him as she quietly opened the door to leave, committing the image of him hurt and alone in a hospital bed to her memory. It pained her to see him so vulnerable, but she knew remembering this moment would help her stay true to the mission she had set for herself. Shutting the door behind her, she didn't look back.


"Where have you been all this time?"

It was a perfectly reasonable question, Kate knew. But she had no desire to share the full details of her two year sabbatical with Castle, whose eyes were already full of guilt.

"Here and there. Mostly in Manhattan, but I was also up-state for a while. I moved around a lot."

Castle nodded, taking in the information even though it wasn't quite what he wanted. But now that the ice was broken, his questions flowed like water from an open tap. She had said the man who killed her mother was dead - who was he? How did she find him? Was he really dead? How did he die?

She kept her story short and to the point, an anticlimactic end to an event which had defined half her life and the last few years of his own. Drew Philipson, a former EMT turned firefighter and eventually state Senator, was the wizard behind the curtain. Not only had he blackmailed Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery, over the years he had grown a network of spies, informants, and secret followers who allowed him access to nearly anything he wanted. Like a well managed business, his blackmailing schemes brought in enough money to continue funding the operation as well as his run for political office.

"I remember reading about him recently," Castle said. "The paper said he was killed last week - some sort of hunting accident. Wasn't he going to run for governor in the next election?"

Kate confirmed Philipson's plans for higher state office but on his death only said, "It wasn't exactly a hunting accident."

Her obvious discomfort at the subject did not deter Castle. "You were there."

"I was there."

Concern colored his features as he looked around, and then lowered his voice. "Did you kill him? Should we be getting you to a non extradition country right now? Cause just say the word and I can charter a -"

The sudden smile that lit up her face almost knocked him over and certainly had the effect of rendering him speechless. It occurred to him that he had not seen her smile since she had returned. Beyond a few keepsake photos he always kept nearby, her smile was a vision denied to him for two years, and witnessing it again in person was indescribable.

"I'm not on the run, Castle," she said through a grin. "The Albany police cleared me of any responsibility in his death and considering the circumstances and their ongoing investigation into his schemes, they decided not to press charges against me for burglary."

"Burglary?" he questioned.

"Well, that's what you call it when you break into someone's residence with the intent to commit a felony."

"But you didn't..." You didn't kill him, is what Castle wanted to ask. Instead, he ended his question with, "...commit a felony?"

She pressed her lips together and looked away, a clear sign of annoyance. He remembered that Kate expression well. "Look, Castle, do you have to hear all the details right now? Let's just say that after looking for him on my own for two years, I finally discovered his identity and went to his house. We got into a scuffle. He got his hands on a gun and tried to shoot me, but it backfired and he accidentally killed himself."

Castle's attention was rapt. "He accidentally shot himself?"

"Well, not exactly. He grabbed a gun - I think it was an antique - and when he went to fire it, it misfired and kind of exploded in his face. And... yeah. He died."

The scene she painted sounded as though it were straight out of one of his novels. But from the firm set of her mouth and the way her hands shook slightly at the retelling of it, he knew she was telling the truth.

Suddenly, Castle noticed something about Kate's hand, and he reached out to push the cuff of her coat up far enough to see her wrist. She moved to stop him, but not fast enough to keep him from discovering what he thought he had seen - a white plastic band, the kind hospital patients wore.

"Were you hurt?" he demanded as she pulled her hand away and hid it under the table.

"I'm fine," she said evenly.

"Then why are you wearing that? If hospital ID bracelets were suddenly a new fashion statement, I think I'd know about it."

Realizing he would not drop it, she sighed in resignation. "He wasn't the only one hit by shrapnel when the gun exploded. I caught a piece in my side. It didn't really hit anything, just bled a lot."

"But you're okay?" Castle said, his eyes quickly scanning her for any other signs of injury he had overlooked.

"I'm absolutely okay," she confirmed. "They sewed me up and kept me a few days just to make sure. Actually, they let me out this morning."

Her extended hospital stay explained the time between when he read about the senator's death the week prior and finding her on his doorstep that evening. "And you came straight here," he observed. You came straight back to me, he wanted to say, but could not after his reception of her back at the loft.

She gave him another unexpected smile as she said, "Well, first I went to visit my dad, to let him know what happened and that I was okay. And I stopped to pick up your book."


Two years earlier...

Castle awoke to pain, although it seemed curiously dull compared to when he fell asleep the night before. Pain meds, he decided. The good stuff. Probably the only up side to getting shot.

Blinking blearily around the dimly lit room, he found himself looking for something. No, someone. Alexis? He had sent her home the night before and told her to go to school this morning. His mother? That seemed unlikely...

Where was Kate? His eyes completing their search of the small hospital room, and he determined that she was not present. Castle frowned, not sure whether to count himself more disappointed or confused. He had barely seen her at all the previous day. While she had been there when he woke up and seemed very concerned (dare he say worried?), the homicide detective split shortly thereafter and did not appear the rest of the day.

In all likelihood, she was out searching for his shooter. He knew how she buried herself in her work. Alexis had noticed the way his eyes swept towards the door every time a new visitor came to see him, and she did her very best to distract him. But by the time visiting hours were over and Kate still had not come by, Castle had begun to worry.

Sleeping in a hospital, he had long ago discovered, was usually next to impossible. Nurses and doctors came in and out of his room almost constantly, taking his vital signs, checking his bandages, or just marking things down on their ever-present clipboards. Castle hated the clipboards. He had only convinced one nurse to show him what she had written down, and even then it made no sense to him, like it was written in Chinese.

Except, he knew Chinese, so maybe it was written in something else. Sanskrit? Or maybe Klingon. Wait, Klingon wasn't a real language. But no, they'd created a Klingon language, hadn't they? Some professor out in California... He'd told Kate about that once, but she'd just rolled her eyes at him.

Where was Kate?

Somehow he had gotten through the night with nary an interruption of his sleep. Probably courtesy of the good drugs, he guessed. Maybe Kate had been in to see him that night, after working all day at the precinct? He glanced around for any evidence of that theory. No purse, no keys, not even a fresh set of flowers or cliché item from the gift shop downstairs. He felt certain she'd choose a stuffed animal over flowers or balloons.

Then he spotted his laptop and the folded piece of paper tucked inside. Alexis had brought it in for him the previous day so he could write, although the nurses had been unhappy. Nothing a little bit of Castle charm couldn't fix, of course.

She had left him a note? Why wasn't she there in person? His heart beat with dread as he reached down for the computer with his good arm. His hands trembled slightly as he removed the paper, already guessing that whatever it said wasn't good.

He read the signature first, to be sure it was from her. It was. She had signed it "Kate." More specifically, she had finished the letter, "Always, Kate."

That didn't bode well. Forcing himself to not read it piecemeal, to not be distracted by the individual words but rather to read it as a whole, he began at the beginning.

Dear Castle,

I love you. If you take nothing else away from this letter, please remember that. You probably already suspected, but I heard you in the cemetery that day. I should have said something long ago, but I let my fears hold me hostage.

I thought that dropping the investigation into my mom's murder would keep us safe, but clearly I was wrong. I can think of no one else that would want to take your life. Castle, I'm so sorry you got hurt. I don't know why it would happen now, but I know that it's my fault. Every day you are around me, I put you at risk. That can't happen anymore. I can't stand by and let you be killed because of your connection to me. I would never be able to live with myself if Alexis lost her father because of me.

I know you'll want to stop me, but for both our sakes, by the time you read this, I'll be gone. I'm going after him. Not because of what he did to my mom or Montgomery or me. I have to find him for you. And I have to do it alone. Please don't try to find me. If he went after you to get to me, I can only hope that if I stay away from you, so will he.

You are such a good man, Castle. I think one of the reasons I resisted you so long is because I know, deep down, I don't deserve you. And yet, you always come back to me. I don't know how long I'll be gone and I won't ask you to wait. But I will do everything possible to come back to you.

Stay safe. I love you.

Always, Kate.

The full meaning of her words was too much. She loved him? And she knew how he felt about her? And because of that, because of what had happened to him, she was leaving…

But she didn't know everything.

He had to stop her.

Pushing past the pain and dizziness, Castle made it out of bed, although he was tangled in a mass of wires and tubes. As he disengaged one, the machine by his bed began to go berserk, the steady beeping sound from earlier instantly replaced by a loud, mechanical shriek.

Whatever he had done, it alerted the nurses to his escape attempt, and two entered his room to check on him. When they had little luck convincing him to get back in bed willingly, a tall male orderly appeared. He tried to explain to them that he had to get to Kate, that he had to catch her before she was gone forever. Later, he realized he must have been raving like a madman, but at the time it seemed to make perfect sense.

Someone stuck a needle into him, just like he'd seen in the movies. Some sort of sedative, most likely, as the world went dark again and mercifully dreamless sleep took over.


tbc