[Chapter 3: Now Part II]

The day was an unusually cold one. A winter snow storm had pummeled most of the city. Still it wasn't enough to dampen Beckett's plan.

Snow covered every walkway and the tops of most of the headstones at the cemetery. It could have been easily to get lost but in an unfortunate way, Beckett had come countless times on days like today that it was easy to find her way.

"Castle, this is my mom," Beckett said after dusting the snow off the top of Johanna's gravestone. "Mom, this is Rick Castle, my husband."

Butterflies flew in her stomach as she called him that. She didn't think she would ever get tired of hearing that word used for him in relation to her.

"She would have loved you, Castle," Beckett said with a smile. "She liked some of the boyfriends I had in high school but I could tell she wasn't crazy about them, a little more accepting than my dad but not quite enough."

"So I take it Rebel Becks loved the Rebel Boys, like in The Outsiders?"

"Something like that," Beckett said with a smile, "but I liked the fun ones too. That's how I know she would have approved of you."

Beckett turned to look down at the grave, her smile fading. "I started cutting when I was thirteen. Nothing major, more like nicks really from pushpins, small stuff so it wouldn't look bad in case anyone asked, enough to pass off as a paper cut. It got pretty intense during my junior and senior year of high school. Sometimes regular band-aids to cover them, other time the white wrap bandages.

My parents knew and they tried to help but they couldn't get me to stop.

I did stop after I graduated high school though. With college coming up I tried to convince myself that I was over it." Beckett gave a small smile to Castle. "I managed to stop for six months. That was the longest I'd gone without it." Castle smiled back as Beckett returned her focus to the grave. "But then my mom… And it opened that box I thought I had closed. I didn't even think when I did it. I didn't stop to wonder if that's what she would have wanted. The only thing I knew was that nothing could help except for that.

My dad suddenly had his drinking and I had my cutting." She shook her head, "I know it sounds stupid."

Castle reached for her hand, "Hey everyone has their ways of dealing with what life throws at them. Who am I to judge? I do have to ask though, doesn't it hurt?"

Beckett half smiled at him not judging her and the question he asked was a valid one. "Not really. It's like this rush, one I couldn't get any other way. It would make the world stop spinning for a while- all the stress, all the bad things that happened; it was all gone in those few moments. There's a sense of euphoria and pleasure. The body has this natural way of producing endorphins which are basically the body's pain killers so there was no feeling of pain, instead only something that was pleasurable. It's what made it so hard to stop."

Beckett knew she was talking like an addict but she wanted him to understand, to know what it felt like even if he couldn't actually feel it firsthand. Cutting was an addiction even though it wasn't considered a traditional or normal addiction like alcohol or drugs.

Even now Beckett struggled. A few years ago during a difficult time after she'd gotten shot, she had cut herself on a shard of broken glass. The blood and the way she'd bandaged her arm had brought back those memories of her time cutting.

"After my mom's death," Beckett continued, "It went on for a year. By then I saw what my dad's drinking was doing to him and I knew we both couldn't be useless anymore. A year later and my dad got sober. It had also been a year since I'd cut so I wanted to do something that would honor what I'd put myself through. Getting a tattoo seemed like a good idea and getting these words," she said motioning to the words on the gravestone, "was a no brainer. Not only could I honor my mom but I could also conquer all the truth of my own history, that despite the cutting there could come a time when I could never surrender to it."

Beckett smiled again at Castle, "I haven't cut since."

Castle smiled and wrapped his arms around his wife. She stood there, her head placed softly on his chest. Neither of them said a word for a minute as Castle continued to keep her in his embrace.

"I'm proud of you, Kate. You continue to amaze me. It couldn't have been easy going through all of that but you survived it. So what if you have the scars, they're apart of who you are. They're battle scars just like your bullet and surgical scars."

Beckett backed up, still staying in his arms but looking at him, "So you're not bothered by them?"

"I'm always gonna wish I had been there for you and wish you hadn't gone through that sure but if I was bothered I would have run out a long time ago. I love you too much to ever do that."

Beckett smiled at her husband. How had she gotten so damn lucky with him?

"You're mom would be proud of you too."

Beckett got on her tip toes and leaned up to reach him, letting their lips meet gently.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

"Thank you for telling me."

Beckett reached down for his hands and held them, "Let's go home."

END