Rue was absolutely terrified.

She had thought she knew what fear was. She'd lived feeling nothing but fear day in and day out. She'd vomited her guts out, fainted, passed out, hyperventilated, become petrified, and shook so hard her teeth rattled, all in the grips of fear. But this fear was above and beyond anything she had ever known, and she was certain that if it weren't for Kate and Castle she would never have been able to do it.

Beckett had asked Rue to call her "Kate" during a session when they were getting more information from her about the building. Rue hadn't ever seen the outside of the house where she'd lived, but it had to have been across from the park. That, plus Rue's description of the inside of the house and its other occupant, had been enough to figure out the location.

Now they were going back, and they needed Rue with them. The house was filled with booby traps, and only Rue could help to point them out. Rue had been quick to say that a couple of cops had gotten themselves trapped in there a couple of times and become victims themselves.

It was during one of these information-gathering sessions that Rue had started trembling so badly she was crying. Her face was tinged green and she looked like her body was trying to decide whether to faint or vomit. Beckett had asked her what she did to calm down. Rue had admitted that Kale had introduced her to hugs, and would hug her when she had an episode.

Beckett had then gone over to Rue and hugged her. When Rue had thanked Beckett, she'd said to call her Kate.

So now she had Kate. And Kate promised that she would protect Rue. Rue trusted Kate; Kate's eyes might be brown, not green, but they had the same kindness and fire in them that Kale's eyes had, and so Rue trusted Kate.

She also trusted Castle. He was funny. He made Rue laugh. The first time she had laughed, it had bubbled up unexpectedly – so unexpectedly, she'd worried that something was wrong with her. She had never laughed before. Never found anything funny. She hadn't even known that "funny" existed. But Castle made her laugh.

Kate trusted Castle. She trusted him with everything. Rue might not be able to understand the things they said with their mouths, but she knew the things they said with their eyes. And Rue saw that Castle loved Kate. He loved her so much it hurt him. She had a feeling he hadn't told her with his mouth that he loved her, and Kate couldn't see it in his eyes. But Rue understood; she could read eyes. And she saw that Castle told Kate that he loved her with every look and gesture.

Kate loved Castle just as much as he loved her. She just didn't understand it. Rue could sympathize. Kate loved Castle, and she trusted him, and if Kate loved and trusted someone, that was good enough for Rue. She had a feeling Kale would have trusted Kate and Castle, too, so that was all right.

When the day came for the raid, Rue sat in the back of the squad car and tried to think of ways to suppress her gag reflex. Castle sat in the back with her and held her hand. He had told Rue about his daughter, Alexis, and Rue knew that Castle was used to helping scared girls feel better.

"You'd like Alexis." Castle said as the car pulled up. "I think she'd like you, too."

Rue thought about this. "I think I will like her." She said, slowly. She still had a hard time remembering words, and what went where in a sentence, and the difference between words that meant something had already happened compared to when it was happening right now, or would happen sometime in the future. She also had trouble with the little words. They were so pesky! "It", "a", "them", "they", "to", "and", "is"… she was lucky if she remembered to put them in a sentence at all, never mind use them correctly.

The car had stopped. With fear relentlessly clenching at her stomach, like someone crushing her guts in a fist, Rue got out and stood on trembling legs. This was the house. She could feel it – sense the evil seeping out through the cracks in the windows and between the bricks. She shuddered and began to tremble.

The trembling got worse the closer to the front door they got. Soon she was shaking so badly she worried she might fall over. Then she felt a strong, large hand clasp her small, trembling one. She looked up into Castle's eyes. She saw the concern, and the care, as clearly as if the words had been written across his face. His grip was kind but firm, reassuring her that he had her safe. Rue slowly stopped trembling. Castle wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

Kate hammered on the door, yelling things that Rue didn't understand. There was no answer from within. Rue shuddered, and the hand holding hers squeezed gently in reassurance. Kate yelled again, and Rue resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears; for while she was beginning to understand that sound did not equal pain, it was still startling and physically uncomfortable to hear loud noises.

Kate gave a signal to the others around them – special cops called SWAT, Kate had explained – and they burst through the door. Kate gently nodded at Rue, and she entered the house, gripping Castle's hand so tightly her knuckles were white. She felt him wince, but did not lessen her hold. She needed something to anchor her.

Stepping cautiously, Rue surveyed the entryway for a minute, gazing at the various doors and the stairway before pointing at the full-length mirror. It hung opposite the door, and she could see her own terrified reflection in it. She could see Castle's reflection too, and saw that he was fixing his hair. Kate's reflection was rolling her eyes at Castle. Rue pointed at the mirror.

"That way." She whispered.

One of the SWAT men said something, but Rue could only understand the words "why", "wall", and "doors". She was able to piece the rest together.

"Doors trap." She said. She then realized she'd forgotten a word or two, and corrected herself. "Doors are a trap. Trap in room because he know people go through doors."

"Traps are in the rooms because he knows people go through doors." Castle corrected. He had told Rue he was a writer, and after explaining what that meant, Rue understood his need to correct her abysmal language skills. She kind of liked it, actually. She didn't want people thinking she was an idiot. A terrified girl with limited knowledge, yes, but she did have a brain that was in full working order.

"Mirrors are windows. Mirrors are doors. He watch." Rue whispered.

Castle looked at Kate, and they spoke to one another with their eyes. Rue could understand exactly what they were saying when they did that.

That's why she knew the two-way mirror was two-way. She didn't know it was two-way, she merely assumed it was because they all are in here.

Thanks, Castle, I couldn't figure that out for myself.

Do you think he's watching us right now?

I hope he is. That bastard is going to know we're coming for him. I hope he wet his pants.

Now, now, Detective, is that really professional?

Shut up, Castle.

Yes, ma'am.

Kate turned back to the mirror. "Do you know how to open it?" She asked Rue.

Rue might not have been very good at speaking, but she could understand most of what she heard, unless the person talked too quickly like those SWAT men. It was like they were racing to get the words out, and by the time she'd deciphered the first part of the sentence, they'd finished the second and she hadn't even had a chance to hear it.

Taking a deep breath, Rue slid her hand out of Castle's and walked slowly up to the mirror. She was so scared, so very scared, she could barely even breathe. The fear that clouded her mind defied all symbolism and description. She could only feel that primal urge, the urge to run or hide or stand still just do anything, anything, other than be here. But she fought through that urge. She had to. Kale deserved it.

Gently, her fingers flitting like trapped butterflies, Rue felt for the catch behind the mirror, the same that was behind all the mirrors, and pressed it. Instantly the mirror swung open, and showed that the other side looked like a window, allowing the person to see everything that was going on in the entryway.

Kate hurried forward and looked into the dark passageway. There was no one there, or at least, no one that could be seen. It was utterly dark in there. No light penetrated the thick, soupy darkness that congealed in the air like a living creature.

Kate's flashlight played along the ground, and Rue saw two large, bloody footprints that showed someone had been standing there, watching. As Rue tried to stop herself from rubbing her arteries, she realized that the blood on the footprints was fresh. She looked up, panicked.

Despite the fact that her eyes had adjusted to living in a world with more light, they had not forgotten those years of darkness and quickly adjusted. Rue saw him just before Kate's flashlight did, and she jumped backwards, pushing Kate back as well.

"Rue, what–" Kate's question was cut off when she was forced to jump to the side in order to avoid being hit with the blunt, filthy axe that went flying towards her head, embedding itself into the wall.

All of Rue's fear surged to the surface, to that one point within her and forced itself out of her in an amazing scream that seemed to tear itself from her throat. It disoriented him, forcing him to look at her, and as he pulled out an obscenely long knife the length of Rue's arm, Kate put two bullets in his chest.

Rue watched the light fade from his eyes, the way she had seen it flee from so many others. She gave a little shudder as his body hit the floor with an immense thud. She hadn't even realized she'd been shivering and trembling until Castle put his arms around her, steadying her. Rue felt his strength flow to her and she calmed herself.

It was over. Rue felt a sense of calm stealing over her as she realized that this part of her life was over. He was gone, soon the red blood and the tools and machines would be gone, and Rue could move on. She wasn't dumb – she knew this part of her life would not simply vanish. But it could be flushed out of her, like those amazing "toilets" she'd spent an hour playing with when she'd first discovered them. She could be clean again.

Beckett didn't say a word to anyone about Norman Hostel. She'd recorded that he was the murder responsible for the deaths of roughly fifty people, mostly teens and young adults, and tried to be as objective and cold-blooded as possible when she noted how he'd killed them. She'd added what was known of his family and his life to the case file, and had turned it all in to Captain Gates.

She didn't add in the report that his eyes were the exact same shade of grey-blue as Rue's. She didn't say that he had the same ears and jaw structure. She didn't tell Captain Gates that Rue's DNA was a close match for the blood found on the mattress in the master bedroom. It wasn't Rue's blood, but was the blood of someone closely related. Like her mother.

She did talk to Castle. She talked to Lanie and the boys, when they all when out for drinks at The Old Haunt, the bar that Castle had written his first book in and later bought when it was going to go under. She told them over drinks how Norman Hostel's hair was brunette, not blonde, but that the woman the blood on the mattress belonged to was. The woman, Joy Winters, had also had Rue's body and cheekbones.

They all said nothing, waiting as Beckett laid out fact after tiny fact. When she was finished, no one said anything for a minute. Then Castle spoke.

"You know, I was wondering about that." He said. "I mean, why keep her around? Why keep her alive? She wasn't an apprentice or someone who was willingly following in his footsteps. She'd clearly lived her entire life there, so she was weak and helpless for most of her young life – a liability. It's really the only explanation that makes sense not only as to why she was there, but why she'd stayed alive for so long."

Beckett nodded. Castle gave her that look that said "I know you're holding something back, so just spit it out instead of bottling it up."

Beckett struggled, but under his piercing blue gaze she couldn't lie. "I don't like it." She admitted in a ferocious burst. "And not just because of Rue; I do hate that she came from that, that bastard, but we only have circumstantial evidence and I know I'm not going to tell her."

She gave the others a look that said they'd better not tell Rue either. She then continued. "It's also the idea that… that…"

"That if he kept her alive all that time, and for that reason, then there's a shred of humanity in him." Castle finished for her. "And you don't like the idea that a monster like that could even fathom the idea of – never mind harbor any – love."

Beckett nodded numbly. "The things he did… the sick, twisted mind he had… it's just easier to look at him like a monster."

"Well, even Grendel's mother had enough love in her to avenge her son's death." Ryan put in.

Everyone turned and looked at him, making him fidget. After a minute, Castle snapped his fingers.

"Beowulf!" He crowed, triumphant at having figured out the reference.

Esposito treated both Castle and Ryan to a blank look, then shook his head and took a swig of beer.

Castle looked over at Beckett, and she understood. She stood up from the table.

"You know what guys, it's late. I really should be hitting the sack soon." She said.

Castle jumped up. "I'll go too." He said.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Okay, Castle. But this time, you pay for the cab."

They bid their friends adieu, ignoring Ryan's desperate look as he realized he'd be alone with Esposito and Lanie, who were both still sore from the breakup, and headed out.

Once they were safely ensconced in a cab, Beckett turned to Castle. "All right, Writer Boy; spit it out."

Castle leaned towards her, his expression intense. "I'm concerned about Rue."

Beckett nodded. She would never admit it, but the girl had grown on her, and she was worried about what would happen to her.

"I mean, I know she's a bright kid, and she has a lot of opportunity before her. But even though she can understand a lot of what we say, she still has trouble talking, she has all those phobias to work through, she knows next to nothing about modern technology – heck, she spent an hour flushing a toilet repeatedly to see how it worked – and you can't just ignore the first however many years of her life she spent in that hellhole. We can't just let her go into the system."

Beckett knew what Castle meant. The foster system was filled with people who genuinely cared, but the sad truth was that a lot of people didn't, and the red tape, papers and administrating often forced the kids themselves to take a backseat. Not to mention that average families would have no idea how to handle Rue, and the poor girl would most likely take years to recover from the culture shock.

"What are you suggesting?" Beckett asked.

Castle took a deep breath then looked Beckett straight in the eye. "I'm suggesting that we become Rue's guardians."