Bittersweet Symphony

...

Kate Beckett stepped onto the small porch that jutted out from the front of her father's rustic cabin. This had been her home for the past few days and the cool mornings were a solace against the tempest that she'd left behind in the city. Memories of her last days in New York flooded her mind, threatening to overshadow the beauty of the forest coming to life all around her. Behind the soft chirps of the array of various bird species that were flittering around inside the tree tops, she could almost hear the sounds of congested traffic and frustrated drivers tapping their horns. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting everything wash away but the gentle sounds of the natural world around her.

With her eyes closed and her body relaxing, the sounds of the city faded away, but not the last exchange between herself and her partner, if that's what he still was after that disastrous evening that she longed to forget, but couldn't. After she had stormed away from Castle's loft, her hand stinging from the powerful slap she'd delivered to his left cheek, she'd almost broken the button for the elevator in her frantic need to put some distance between herself and the man that could elevate her heart to the stars or deliver it to the pits of despair. It wasn't until the elevator's doors had closed behind her, that the reality of the evening's argument back in the loft came crashing into her with the force of a hurricane.

As the lift descended to the ground floor, Kate's exhausted and battered body slumped against the back wall, the last vestiges of her strength seeping away like the morning fog. The back of her head connected with the wood paneling and she repeatedly smacked into it, over and over again as she softly chanted a single word.

"Stupid ... stupid ... stupid."

Of all the outcomes that she had pictured in her mind before her meeting ... confrontation ... with Rick, what had eventually transpired between them had never even entered her mind. She had known he would still be smarting over her harsh words back in her apartment, but the level of his hurt and anger had been beyond anything that she'd prepared herself for. Tears of anger, pain, and anguish streamed down her face as she frantically wiped them away, her last measure of control slipping away. She was grateful that she'd made it out of the building before she completely lost it, leaning against the corner of the building Castle lived in. In New York, a sobbing woman propped up against the edge of a brick wall didn't garner even a second glance from any of the passers-by and Kate was left alone with her tears.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, crying against the sound of the passing vehicles and the few horns that broke the stillness of the night. It was a bittersweet symphony that echoed against the concrete and asphalt of the city street, overwhelming Beckett's chocked sobs that she shared with no one but herself. The disaster that the evening had become tore at her heart and caused her to ache down in the depths of her very soul. The urge to run back up to Rick's loft was almost too much for her to resist ... but she did, allowing her tired legs and feet to eventually carry her all the way back to her apartment, she wasn't exactly sure how she'd covered all that distance, but she arrived safely.

As soon as the door clicked closed behind her, Kate's trembling body collapsed to the couch, her face pressed tightly into the pillows that adorned one end. Drawing her hands inward, she smothered her sobs in the floral fabric and let it dry up the tears that seemed never to end. Thoughts of what was said and what should have been said roared through her mind, and regret and shame filled her until she could hold it in no longer. A roar that was born of anguish and frustration erupted from her until her throat burned and her lungs ached.

Part of Kate wanted to rage against the man who was Richard Castle. She wanted to hate him, to despise his smile or the shine of his eyes, but when she tried, the sting of the truth in his words rocked her spirit and she found herself adrift in a sea of meaninglessness that threatened to carry her to an unknown destination. Their fight played over and over in heart and mind; the words that had cut into her earlier, now were revealed in the truth that they were. He'd held something back from her, and that had enraged her earlier but all of that had been forgotten when she was dangling off the edge of that building, her death right below her and a truth shaking her heart. The truth was that she was hopelessly and completely in love with the big jerk and she had no idea how things had spiraled out of control back in his loft.

She loved him.

She did ... does ... love him.

And she'd let her own temper and stubbornness get in the way of making any type of heartfelt confession when he'd rejected her earlier proclamation of "I want you". Those three little words had been the wrong ones to say and afterwards, she'd been unable to find a solid ground that she could use to spring them on the agitated writer as her railed against her own insecurities and the impregnable shield she'd used to protect herself for most of her adult life. Castle had pointed out most of her failed relationships ... Will, Tom, and Josh, not counting the ones he didn't know about, and his plea about how she hid in herself away behind her walls, not giving anyone a real shot at getting to know the real Kate Beckett.

The young woman who lost her mother far too early and felt she was the only one who would ever bring justice to Johanna Becktett and finally lay her to a peaceful rest.

A woman who had watched her father crawl into the bottom of a bottle with no intention of ever crawling back out again.

A strong professional police detective who brought compassion and justice to victims of senseless crimes, while hiding away her own feelings of frustration and disappointment.

The little girl who wanted nothing more than to lose herself in the warmth and love of her mother's embrace, just one more time.

Kate Beckett was all of those things and so much more, and until Richard Castle had breezed into her life, no one else on the planet had ever seen any more than what she wanted to reveal. The parts of her that made up the 'so much more', where the things that she tucked away behind her walls, the ones that she alone was responsible to tear down. Those were the things that no one else had been allowed to view. Not Will, who she had felt enough for to imagine a future with. Not Tom Demming, who was good for a heated sparring match and a few good times, but any future with him, had been quickly squelched by feelings for a certain writer that made no sense in her ordered world. And then there was Josh, the giving heart surgeon who sacrificed his free-time traveling to the world's worst places, aiding those who had no hope. After thinking that she'd missed her chance with Castle, she'd started a real relationship with the good doctor, imagining a future with a ring on her finger and a real chance at a happy life. But time after time, a pair of cobalt blue eyes interrupted her thoughts and plans, tugging her toward a happiness that she'd never been able to envision before he entered her life and refused to leave completely.

Ever since their near death experience in that freezer, when he'd wrapped her in his thick arms in a desperate attempt to keep her warm and save her life, she'd know without a doubt that she loved Castle. Loved him more than Royce. More than Will, and Tom and Josh all added together. It was a love that transcended anything that she'd ever imagined or experienced before. It was exhilarating. It was liberating. It was beyond comprehension.

And it was terrifying.

It scared the life out of her and she'd reacted the way she always did when an emotional issue popped up that she wasn't prepared to deal with:

First, she Delayed. After her shooting, she spent weeks putting off calling Castle about his confession in that cemetery and before she realized it, three months had passed and he hadn't heart a peep out of her.

Then she moved to Deflection. She sat right there on their swings and talked about needing time for her walls to come down, time to solve her mother's murder, time to figure out why her heart was so screwed up that she kept hurting the same sweet man again and again.

And when those first two didn't do the trick, when she found that, even months later, she was no closer to catching her mother's killer than when she first began her crusade, she pulled out the coup de gras … she Denied. When she was finally honest with herself, she had to acknowledge that she lied. Lied right to his face even. And despite the pleading honesty she saw bubbling from the depths of his blue eyes every time he asked, she did it over and over again.

At least now, in her own mind, she'd started calling it what it was … a crusade. An epic venture that had begun with the noblest of intentions, but had eventually descended into chaos that was claiming even more innocent victims. This epiphany had struck her, when days after her fight with Castle, she'd found her father standing on the outside of her door, his expression both concerned and yet kind. After he'd finally got her to give him an honest answer as to why she wasn't answering her phone, when she finally broke down and described her confession and the argument, it shocked her that he wasn't as upset about her suspension as he was about what had happened between her and Castle.

"Awww Katie … " Her dad was sitting on the other end of her couch, his head cocked to the side like he was trying to decipher even more details from studying her body language. " … how did you expect him to react? Take you in his arms and ravage you against the door?"

"Dad!" That had made her blush slightly, because that had been one of the outcomes she'd secretly hoped might happen.

"Oh, come on! I've seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him … and don't forget, I was in love once myself." That got her attention and she schooled her features at her father's observations of her feelings for Castle.

Her father shifted forward, leaning his elbows on top of his knees. "Katie, Castle is only a man, a man with an incredibly big heart that forgives as easily as he breathes … but a man's heart can only take so much before it's damaged. After that, it will take time for it to heal and even after a lengthy recovery, it may never be the same as it once was."

"Are you saying that Castle and I may never be able to get past this?" Kate was on the verge of tears again.

"No … yes … maybe … oh hell, Katie, I don't know." He glanced at her sideways, only half of his face turned toward her but she could still sense the frustration etched across his features. "I can't speak for Richard and I would never presume to do so … you two will have to work that out for ourselves. What you do have to do for yourself Katie, is decide how far you want to take this quest that you've set upon yourself to complete."

"Quest? What quest, Dad?"

"This all-or-nothing quest you have built for yourself … this 'I must have vindication for my mother, no matter the cost'."

"I'm fine dad … I have this completely under control!" Kate popped up from her seat and started to pace in front of the couch. She didn't have to look to know that her father's eyes were tracking her movements.

"Yeah … you're fine … you're on suspension from a career that you absolutely love and you may have ruined any chance you have at a relationship with the man that you love … sounds perfectly 'fine' to me."

If he hadn't been her father, she would have thrown him out on his ear for being so blunt with her and her feelings. "God dad! I was hoping for a little support here … not the third degree!"

"If you want the third degree, I can give it to you … what I'm doing is called 'tough love' and right now, I think my daughter is in desperate need of a little bit of both!" Jim had reverted to what Kate referred to as his 'lawyer voice', the one that left very little room for argument from anyone. "I love you Katie, you mean the world to me but I won't just sit here and let you throw away the two best things in your life."

Beckett stopped walking and let her shoulders slump toward the floor, her anger and energy slipping away at the concern she could hear in her father's voice. "Two best things?"

Jim stood to move to his daughter's side, his arm coming up to wrap around her shoulder and pull her close. "Thing number one … your career."

"Yeah, pretty well screwed the pooch on that one."

Her father simply shook his head. "Non-sense … your boss only suspended you … you were the one who went all Nixon and resigned."

"And with great fan-fare as well, dad … I don't think Iron Gates will give me a chance to do anything about it."

"Again … non-sense. Your team has the best closure rate of any unit in all of the NYPD." He caught her strange look and decided to answer before she asked. "What? I'm a proud father who happens to have friends down at 1PP who keep me up to date on a certain detective's successes … so sue me." His attempt levity earned him a grateful half-smile that broke across Kate's face.

"So, tomorrow morning, you put on your best power suit and you march right into your boss's office and you rescind your resignation." His tone and intense glare caused Kate's spine to straighten, a familiar feeling of pride and assuredness washing over her. "More than likely, she make you finish out your suspension … that'll keep her from losing face in front of the department … but I'm sure she'll be happy to have her best investigator back under her guidance and care."

Kate's lips finally turned up into a complete smile at her father's support and enthusiasm, but her heart ached at the memories of a certain fictional writer, whose own contribution had helped her team become the best at solving murder in New York City. She hid her pain behind the mask that she had perfected over years of practice, but her father was immune to her little charade.

"Dad, you said 'two best things … "

Jim chuckled lightly to himself. "Ahhh, yes. Thing number two … though placing it in second place in my list doesn't negate its position on your list of priorities, as it should be at the top."

Now she was really confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Not a 'what' … a 'who'."

The moment that he saw her mind catch up with the meaning of his words, Jim's smile stretched from ear to ear.

"After you talk to your captain, you take a few days, go up to the cabin, clear your head … and figure out how you are going to convince Richard Castle that you are ready."

"Ready for what?"

He let out soft sigh, not in frustration, but in the hope that his daughter might finally be able to get the important things in her life into the proper order.

"Ready for Captain Ahab to end his quest."

Those words from her father had followed her for the next few days. From her entrance into the precinct when she approached Captain Bates and humbly apologized for her unprofessional and dangerous actions that had put, not only herself, but other members of her team and the department at risk. After she admitted that she'd allowed her personal vendetta to cloud her professional judgement and cause her to disobey direct orders, she asked that her emotionally fueled resignation be disregarded and her boss had readily agreed. But the two week suspension would stay in place so that the department's rules concerning insubordination would be reinforced, not only with one of the best detectives on the force, but with the rest of the precinct as well. Captain Gates had sent Beckett away, but the older woman's slight grin and final statement about "finding a new perspective" caused the detective to wonder if her boss and her father hadn't been comparing notes.

On her first day at the cabin when she was unpacking her bags, she discovered a tattered copy of a particular book tucked just inside the front flap of her suitcase. She knew that she hadn't packed it and could only surmise that her father had slipped in there when she'd stepped out of the room.

Moby Dick had been one of her father's favorite books when he was a young boy and it had only grown in importance when she studied it later in school. The story of the whaling ship's captain who spent his life in pursuit of the white whale that had maimed him, resulting in only destruction and death. A crusade that culminated in the destruction of the captain's ship, along with her crew, while the great whale had descended into the depths of the sea, dragging the unrepentant Ahab to his death. Beckett's dad had read parts of it to her when she was very young and it held a special place in her heart, not just for the moral the story told, but she would always associate it with the sound of her father's voice.

As she held it in her hands that, for some reason had begun to quiver, she let her eyes trace over the image on the cover. The white whale was prominent in the artist's rendering, his massive body thrashing out of the white-cap sea as a hapless whaleboat filled with sailors from the Pequod fought desperately to harpoon the fierce creature. She could hear her father's voice from all those years ago as they repeated the iconic words from Melville's masterpiece about the cost of sacrificing all for the vengeance of one man … "Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."

Was that what she was doing? Sacrificing all those around her for her own cause? Was she blindly putting everyone else at risk just so she could finally lay her mother to rest?

Castle's words from their fight echoed in her mind … "What about Esposito? You risked his life today by dragging him into your little crusade … What about your father? How would he feel when he had to go down and pick out a coffin for his daughter so he could bury his only child beside his wife? … What if Coonan comes after me, comes after my family … rips apart Alexis' life just like he did yours all those years ago?"

Other faces danced through her mind … Ryan, Jenny, Lanie, Alexis, Martha … the people closest to her, people that meant so much and yet, they all could be torn away in an instant, no more than chess pieces to the people who had killed her mother. Was she really ready to sacrifice all of them, just so that Kate could have the peace that had eluded her for all of this time? Would the justice she would find, erase the pain if she had to bury her father? Or Alexis? Or … oh God … Castle?

The answer was as plain as the nose on her face; she just didn't think she was ready to face the reality of it. But at this point in time, did she really have a choice? Was she going to simply sit back and watch what she had with Castle … what she wanted to have with Castle … slip through her fingers because she was too scared to actually say the words she should have said to him back when he first opened the door to his loft?

The catastrophe of that night weighed heavily on her, bringing the sting of tears to the corners of her eyes as the cost of what she had done washed over her again. How different would it have all turned out if she'd confessed her love for him instead of falling back to the safer and far less committal "I want you"? He'd been right to through it back in her face but when he did, her defenses had come up automatically and what should have been an evening of kisses, hugs, and maybe so much more, had deteriorated into hurtful words and painful actions.

The slap had been too much, she'd known that instantly and the regret she felt over actually striking the kindest and gentlest man she'd ever met, tore away at her wounded soul. Kate had no idea how he would ever forgive her for that physical manifestation of her frustration and she wondered how to begin to earn his trust again. She did know that simply running up to him, possibly kissing him as she proclaimed her undying love wouldn't heal any of the wounds that she had inflicted on him. No, their partnership ... friendship ... relationship, had taken time to build and it would take time to heal as well.

As she ruminated about her mistakes, she began to think about what a strange thing that 'trust' could be … it could be the strongest thing in the world, an unshakeable bond between two people that ranked right up there with 'love' in importance to a strong relationship. It could take years to build it into something special … but it could be devastated in mere seconds. It could stand the test of time, spanning decades of a person's life and passing into eternity when they were no longer here. But it could be killed, murdered in an instant by selfish desires or a stubborn attitude that sought one's benefit above another's.

A dry breeze kicked up the leaves that had fallen across the simple path that meandered up to the foot of the wooden steps, pulling Becket's attention back to where she was. The plans that she'd made before going to Castle's loft were in tatters and any fantasy that she had dreamed up about how things should have gone, disappeared like the wind that had moved through the air around her. The question that was slowly constructing itself in her mind was, what was she going to do about it?

Was she going to keep playing the part of Don Quixote and tilt at windmills until the tragedy of her life was all that remained?

Would sacrificing herself on the altar of justice for her mother be worth the cost of losing everyone that meant anything to her? Though she missed her mother desperately, would anything she did today or tomorrow, bring her back?

Was she prepared to admit her own mistakes and ask, no … beg, for Castle's forgiveness?

Was she ready to forgive him for his own mistakes, whether he asked her too or not? Whether he forgave her or turned his back on her once more?

Was the love she felt inside of her, for the man who could drive her up the wall one moment and cause her heart to thrum in her chest the next, strong enough to be patient and kind to him when he acted like the spoiled play-boy he used to be? Was it powerful enough to rein in her jealousy when he showed some attention to something other than herself and keep her from bragging about her own accomplishments that she would sometimes laud over him? Could it possibly be sincere enough to show her how to look out for the needs of others before considering her own? Does she have it in her to let the little things slide and forget about the things that would only hold her back? Would it teach her how to rejoice in the truth, even when it is uncomfortable and hurtful sometimes?

Was it even possible that the love that simmered in her chest, even after all that had been said and done between her and Castle, could it endure under any circumstance? Would it always burn inside of her, consuming her while at the same time, sustaining her? Was it worth the cost of releasing that part of her past that had tortured her soul for far too long? Would it be strong enough to help her endure humbling herself and admitting that she did, in fact, need Richard Castle by her side?

As Kate's cheeks became wet with her tears and she clutched her hands over the scar between her breasts … her voice, heart, and soul screamed out as one.

"Yes … yes … yes … YES!"

…

...

A/N: As you can plainly see, I changed my mind about continuing this little story and that fact can be attributed to all the wonderful readers who showed kindness and support, even when some of them didn't really like the direction the story was taking.

And there are some of you who will say that I only threatened to pull the story because I was looking to feed my ego and needed the affirmation of legions of fans to build up my own pride and arrogance. To those of you who feel that way, I say this … you don't know me and what my motivations are. If you're that clairvoyant, you should get your own 900 number and tell people their lucky numbers and what message that their dead grandmother has for them.

Yes, I got my nose out of joint because of few reviewers who sought to bully me into changing my story because they felt I was betraying the heart of whom and what Beckett and Castle truly are. I let a handful of negative comments deter me from my goal of writing the story that is inside of me. I allowed my desire to keep everyone happy to preclude me from providing a somewhat enjoyable read (if I do say so myself) to the readers who actually appreciated it, and that little fact has caused me no end of remorse.

So, for those of you who liked this and were hurt by my initial response of stopping the story where it was … I apologize from the deepest parts of me. I acted like Castle used to when we first met him in season one … like a spoiled child who when things didn't go his way, he snatches up his toys and goes home to sulk and mope. It is with great shame and regret that I say that I am truly sorry for acting that way and hope that you can, in some way, overlook this momentary lapse in my judgement and forgive me.

For those of you who won't allow anyone to present an alternate version of the stories you already know and the characters you hold in such high regard … nothing I say or do will change your impression neither of me nor of my attempts at entertaining you. That leaves me with only one response to that narrow minded attitude. If you don't like what I've written, look elsewhere … there are plenty of fanfic stories that don't challenge Kate to answer for her own choices in a realistic way and have Castle roll over like a good dog, allowing her to continually make bad decisions based on her own selfish desires.

I'm sure that I'll receive no end of support from most of you guys but there will also be those who continue to rail against me and my fictionalportrayal of fictionalcharacters from a fictionalTV show. That is the price we writers pay for posting our stories on a public forum and ask for the opinions of others. So, those of you who will choose to lash out at me for changing the saviors of the world who are Kate Beckett and Richard Castle … rail away … give me your worse … take your best shot. I don't really care any more about your poor opinion of me and my vision of what could have happened if things had gone differently … the story will go on until there is no more of it within me to tell.

And as a few of you pointed out, I am a MARINE (or at least I was once, a long time ago) and our motto is 'Semper Fidelis', which translates to 'Always Faithful'. All I can say is that from time to time, even MARINES need a little reminder about things that should be simple and resolute. Thank you for being the ones to remind this old warhorse of what those words truly mean.

Semper Fidelis (I mean it this time)

JS