Again, thank you all so much for alerting, and reviewing my story, it just makes me so happy to know that people are reading it and liking it! Thank you! Anyways, here is the next chapter, the updates probably will not be so often all the time, but I already had this written, and couldn't find a reason not to post this! So here you go and I hope you like it! Leave me your thoughts if you'd like, I greatly appreciate it! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle.

January 1995, New York City, one day after Johanna Beckett was murdered.

She sat at the bar, slowly rotating on the stool, drinking another glass of scotch, and staring straight ahead.

Her body screamed of despair, and people were staying away. She tried to put it all out of her mind, the way her mothers body looked, dead on a slab in the morgue, the way her father looked like the entire world had just fallen out from under him, the way she had fallen to the ground, screaming and crying, for her mother to please dear god, not be dead.

She couldn't handle the sympathetic look on the cops face, nor the neighbor who came running upon hearing her scream.

And so she had gone, run to her room to be in peace, and let her heart rip itself in two.

And then the next day she had had to go identify the body with her father, and had slept until it was time. So at five she had gone, had seen for herself the cold thing on the table which had once been her mother, and had left, running out the door and ending up here, in a bar, drinking the burning liquid, trying to erase her pain.

"Another." She called out to the bar tender, and was about to slide some cash across the counter when a man stopped her hand, and put money down.

"This one's on me." He stated looking at her. He was tall, dark, and handsome, a smile on his lips as he called out for his own drink, his gaze never leaving her. "You've been here a while now," he said "And I figured it was time for me to buy you a drink and see if you were okay. You seem pretty low."

She smiled lightly, and thanked him with a nod. "So," he asked, "what brings you here tonight?" She looked at him, and weighed getting it all out, or just walking away. This was just some random guy after all. "Hey," he said, "It's okay..." He raised his eyebrows silently asking her name. "Kate." She said. "Alright then, Kate. I promise it will be okay eventually. You can talk to me."

And with that one look, she felt herself telling him everything, not able to hold back, just breaking down, and getting it all out. And when she was done, remarkably, she felt better. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to tell you all that, it just...came out." She finished lamely, but he smiled at her, and shook his head.

"Don't even think about apologizing, I was glad to hear it. My dad died a few years back, and one day I just told my friend all about it by accident and I remember how good it felt to talk. So I figured it might help you." He finished, with yet another dazzling, kind smile.

"Mm, thanks." She smiled back, sighing. "Thank you." "Hey, so I'm about to head out," he said to her, "and it looks like you should probably head home too. Do you wan to share a cab home?" He asked, and she nodded, sliding off the bar stool, and taking the arm he offered her.

They left the bar, stepping out into the frigid winter air, unconsciously moving closer to each other, and hugging for warmth.

They hailed a cab, and gave her address to the driver, heading over to her place first. When they got there he got out with her, walking her to the door, to make sure she got in okay.

And when she kissed him, trying to forget everything that had happened over the past few days he went with her, as they tumbled in the front door, erasing her pain, and falling further.

One month later, Kate Beckett woke up sick, with a missing period, and upon taking a pregnancy test was brought back to the pain she felt that night, the memories stronger than ever.

Eight months later, when the pain still hadn't lessened every time she looked down, she made the decision to give her baby girl to a family with real parents, ones who weren't wracked with grief every time they looked at her, and said goodbye to the little girl.

The next week she signed up for the police academy, and checked her dad into rehab. She had gone away once she had gotten pregnant. He never knew about the baby. Nobody ever knew about the baby. Nobody but her.

2012, Kate Beckett's apartment.

She lay on the couch still holding her arms tightly around herself, trying to escape the memories bombarding her mind, making her insane.

She rocked back and forth, pushing her fingers into her head trying to get rid of the image of her beautiful baby in her arms. She knew she had done the right thing giving her up, but now, oh god what did she do.

Her baby-no, she told herself, their baby- was nearly dead, could die within the hour, minuet, second even. And the people she had trusted to take care of her were dead now, saving her daughter from certain death.

She was a mess. Everything was collapsing around her, and she had no idea what to do.

Her life had turned into a living hell in one day. One minuet everything was perfect, and they next it was in shambles, and she had no idea how to fix it.

She was useless, and miserable, and horrified, and didn't know how to get through it. What to do?! She hugged tighter, and rolled over, about to get up to get a drink of water and try to clear her head, when she heard a knock at the door.

She pulled herself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it to see Castle standing there, and let him in. He took one look at her tear-ridden face, her wild, desperate eyes, and pulled her to him, murmuring softly to her, that he loved her and it would be okay.

And then when he asked what was wrong, she let go, and gasped out, "That was my daughter today Castle. The girl who almost died was my baby."