Au: This is my friend Jas writing. Just a heads up!
It was another case. It would've been easy to be utterly numb over it, but that wasn't Detective Kate Beckett's style. So when a girl was blown away with her plane, and no links to terrorism were found, she was brought to Neal Caffrey's apartment door. A man that was apparently the sort of con artist that Castle would have sold his soul to chat with to write a book about was shattered by the time she flashed her badge and vowed to find Kate Moreau's killer. It was always a mass of contradictions when she worked with murders. She was professional, but while her wounds weren't out for the world to see, every ounce of empathy she offered to the victims' loved ones, such as Mr. Caffrey here, screamed of over a decade of mourning through her eyes. If she knew this would be different beyond just sharing the victim's name, she ignored it, because she made a promise to him. Her determination didn't allow any slacking in that department.