A/N: Long one with lots of stuff happening. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: When I own Castle someday I'll be sure Rick and Kate get together and live happily ever after. But for now, I don't own it.

xxx

Castle was waiting for her when she arrived at the precinct the next day.

"Hey!" he said, jumping up to greet her. "They replayed the press conference last night—you were even better than I remembered."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Castle."

He grinned eagerly, handing her a cup of coffee. "Seriously," he said, "you were totally kick-ass." He gave her a quick hug, careful not to upset the coffee. "That's from Alexis," he explained. "She called last night—apparently being at this summer program doesn't keep her from seeing the news."

"Right," Kate said, slightly bewildered. He was moving even faster than usual. He was practically bouncing from foot to foot when his phone rang.

"Hello?" he said happily. "Okay. I'll be right down." He hung up and turned to Kate. "I'll be right back," he said before dashing to the elevator. Once he was gone, Kate raised an eyebrow at Esposito.

"What's gotten into him?" she asked. Her fellow detective shrugged.

"No idea. Maybe we can get him a leash."

She laughed. "I'm not sure it would help. It might be impossible to rein him in."

"Many have tried and many have failed," Ryan put in seriously. They were all still chuckling when the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

It was Castle, returning with a couple in tow.

Kate's coffee mug slid gracelessly from her hand, narrowly missing her desk and crashing at her feet. She was too shocked, however, to pay it any mind. She knew this couple. She hadn't seen them in years but she recognized them instantly. Graham and Madeleine Kent—Olivia's parents.

"W-what is this?" she asked shakily as she rose to her feet. Dear God, what were they doing here?

"I brought them," Castle said. "I invited them here."

The Kents were staring at her in utter silence. She couldn't look at them long enough to gauge their expressions. She wasn't sure she even wanted to know.

"Castle," she said tightly, "can I see you in the break room?" She didn't want to yell at him in front of the Kents.

"S-sure," he said, looking crestfallen. He shot an apologetic look at Olivia's parents before trailing after her into the break room, where she shut the door as hard as she could without actually slamming it.

"What the hell?" she hissed. "Why did you bring them here?"

"To see you," he reasoned, as though it were obvious. "I thought it might help…"

"Well it doesn't!" she said. This was even worse than poking into her mother's case. This involved real-live people and her never-ending shame. Here, more people than just her could get hurt.

"Why not?" he wanted to know. "Why does having them here have to be bad?"

"Oh, I don't know!" she snapped sarcastically. "Maybe because I was there when their daughter was attacked. Except I lived and she died. And I couldn't do a thing about it."

"They don't blame you," he said pleadingly. "We talked about it…"

"You talked about it?" she cried. "Damn it, Castle! Of all the meddling things…" She shook her head. "Did it ever occur to you to talk to me before going to them?"

He was silent, lowering his gaze.

"Right," she said before he could answer. "That's what I thought."

"Kate!" he said, but she was already turning around, storming from the room. She nearly ran through the silent bullpen, past her staring colleagues and the shocked-looking Kents. She crashed into the ladies' room and leaned heavily on a sink.

In the year they'd known each other, Castle had done dozens of things to piss her off. He was undisciplined and careless and never minded his own goddamned business. But this—this—was the worst yet.

Having her past dug up was bad enough without throwing some of the major players into the mix. She'd been rather relieved years ago when her family had stopped seeing the Kents. She was sure they blamed her and she couldn't fault them for it. Not when she blamed herself.

Even after all this time, the guilt wasn't entirely gone.

When the bathroom door creaked open, she shut her eyes.

"Kate?" Madeleine Kent called softly. "You know you can't hide from me in here."

Kate nodded before bending her head, focusing her gaze on the white porcelain of the sink—anything to keep from looking at Olivia's mother.

"Kate," Madeleine tried again. "Look at me, please."

Kate kept her head down. It was all she could do not to burst into tears—looking at Madeleine would be her undoing. Madeleine touched her arm gently and she shuddered.

"Katie," the older woman—so very much like her late daughter—said gently. "Honey, look at me."

She sounded so pleading, Kate lifted her head. To her astonishment, she was not met with anger. Madeleine's face held no bitterness, not a trace of the hate or loathing Kate had expected for so long. She only looked sad.

"Oh, Katie," she murmured, cupping Kate's cheek in her hand. "Look how beautiful you are. All grown up."

Kate let out a soft sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry!"

"For what?" Madeleine asked. Kate swallowed hard, trying to speak past the lump in her throat.

"For everything," she gasped. "For running off a few minutes ago…for not keeping in touch…for Olivia…"

A tear slid down Madeleine's face but she made no effort to brush it away. "Oh, Katie," she sighed. "These past few days have been awful for you, I'm sure. We should not have snuck up on you this way."

Kate shrugged. She would never have agreed to see them otherwise, she knew. And for some inexplicable reason, they wanted to see her.

"And as for staying in touch," Madeleine continued, "we're at least as much to blame." She lifted her other hand so she was holding onto Kate's face, forcing the younger woman to look at her. "And as for Olivia…Oh, sweetheart. We never blamed you for a second."

Kate gasped, shutting her eyes against the onslaught of tears. The Kents had always implied that they didn't blame her, but no one had ever said so, not in so many words. She'd simply assumed it wasn't true. She'd taken their silence for condemnation.

"It wasn't your fault," Madeleine reiterated. "It was never your fault, Kate."

"I was there," Kate murmured. "I was right there…"

Madeleine cut her off, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Hush," she said. "Stop taking the blame. You were a victim, Kate. You were a victim—just like Olivia." She paused, hugging Kate tighter. "I'm sorry I never told you that. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch."

Kate couldn't respond. She couldn't even speak. All she could do was cry, sagging into the older woman's fierce embrace.

"I'm sorry," Madeleine continued, "for not reaching out to you more. Especially when your mother died."

"You sent flowers," Kate mumbled, remembering. "Lilies, right?"

"Right." Madeleine lifted a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry we weren't there for you."

Kate pulled back so they stood at arm's length. "It's okay," she said hoarsely. "Please don't feel guilty. We're okay now."

"How is your father?" Madeleine asked. "Losing Johanna must have been very difficult for both of you."

"Yes," Kate agreed. Her father's reaction to her mother's death wasn't something she cared to discuss. But—much like with Olivia so long ago—she couldn't lie to Madeleine. "He's sober now," she said simply. Madeleine's eyes widened and again she lifted a hand to touch Kate's cheek.

"Oh, Katie," she sighed. "I'm so sorry."

Kate managed a small smile. "We're okay now," she promised. "Both of us."

Madeleine nodded. "I can see that," she said. "What a fine woman you've become, Kate. Olivia would be so very proud." With that, she took Kate's hand and tugged her from the bathroom.

Back in the bullpen, they found Castle, Ryan and Esposito, and Graham all gathered around her desk. They all looked up worriedly when Kate and Madeleine entered.

Kate gave them all a watery smile before striding over to Graham and placing a hand on his shoulder. He instantly got to his feet and wrapped her in a tight hug. Once they'd pulled apart, he grinned at her.

"Your friends have been telling me about your work, Katie," he said. "Very impressive."

"They probably exaggerate," she told him. "Especially Castle." She flashed the writer a brief smile to show him she was no longer angry. He grinned back before adopting an expression of mock-hurt.

"Who me?" he said. "I never exaggerate."

Xxx

Castle watched from the break room as Kate talked with the Kents. Whatever anger she'd had toward him for bringing them to the precinct seemed to have dissipated. The visit even seemed to be doing her good. It was obviously emotional for all of them but Kate looked relaxed, peaceful even.

Grinning happily over his accomplishment, Castle turned to make himself a latte. He was just finishing when someone stepped into the room. He knew it was her before he even turned around.

"Hey," he said. "Where are Graham and Madeleine?"

"Talking to Esposito. They want to make a statement to the public defending me."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you're okay with that?"

She nodded, crossing her arms. "Thank you for bringing them here," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"No worries," he assured her. "I probably shouldn't have sprung it on you like that."

"Maybe not," she agreed, "but I probably would've refused to see them otherwise." A small smile crossed her face. "They don't blame me," she said.

"I know." He studied her briefly. She was pale and she'd clearly been crying but she was smiling. "So it's been a good visit?" he asked.

"It's been great." She positively beamed. "Hey," she added, "the Kents are taking me out to dinner tonight and we wondered if you'd come."

Startled, he nodded. "Sure," he said. "I mean, if you want me to."

"It's the least I can do," she said, "to thank you."

Ooo

So they went out to dinner that night. It was a surprisingly cheerful meal—the heavy emotion had been dealt with, leaving room for plenty of laughter and reminiscing. Castle was pleased to see Kate talking about the past with something other than pain in her voice and it was fascinating to hear stories about her from her younger years. From what he could tell, young-Kate had been a more fun-loving, lighthearted version of adult-Kate. It was sad to think of how she'd been changed by what she'd been through but he enjoyed the stories nonetheless.

It was easy to see the camaraderie between Kate and the Kents and from their stories Castle could understand why Kate and Olivia had been friends.

"I wish I could've met her," he mused after a particularly amusing story about one of Kate and Olivia's escapades. Kate turned to him, nodding. There was a slight flicker of sadness in her eyes but she was smiling.

"You would've liked her," she said. "And, as much as it kills me to say this…she would've liked you, too."

Castle laughed, more at his pleasure at seeing this flicker of the usual Kate than anything else.

"I am likeable," he teased. Kate rolled her eyes.

"Or maybe Liv was just easy to win over," she shot back.

"Easier than you, anyway," he retorted, earning another classic Kate eye-roll.

Later, when she'd gone to the bathroom, the Kents pounced on him.

"You care about our Kate," Madeleine observed in a motherly tone.

"Um…yeah," he said.

"That's good," Graham told him. "Just take care of her, okay?"

"Sure…but it's not like that…"

They both nodded, looking disbelieving.

"Right," Madeleine said. He couldn't blame them for not believing him. He didn't really believe himself. It was like that—for him at least.

After dinner, they stood outside the restaurant. It was a warm night but the oppressive heat of the day was gone from the air.

"Would anyone like to come back to my place for a drink?" Kate asked. The Kents both shook their heads sadly.

"Sorry, dear," Madeleine said. "I think it's time for old folks like us to head home. But we'll have dinner soon—and we'll invite your father as well."

"He'd like that," Kate smiled. She hugged them both tightly.

"Do you need a ride?" Graham offered.

Kate shook her head. "We'll get a cab," she said. "Thank you for dinner."

"Anytime, sweetie," Madeleine said, waving as they departed. Once they were gone, Kate turned to Castle.

"Would you like to have a drink?" she asked. Surprised, he nodded.

"Absolutely," he said. He stepped to the curb to hail a cab. They chatted easily on the way to her apartment and things felt blessedly normal. For the moment, at least, they were simply Kate and Castle, with nothing hanging over their heads.

He noticed the envelope on her floor first, lying near the door as though it had been slid underneath it. He cut her off as she was listing her drink selections.

"Kate," he said, pointing.

Her brow furrowed as she bent to pick it up. The moment she looked at its contents, her face went stark white. She shuffled through the papers, growing paler by the second.

"Kate," he said worriedly. "What is it?" She was shaking hard, her eyes wide.

"Kate!" he repeated, stepping over to grab the papers from her hands. On top, there was a photograph featuring a much younger Kate and a boy. She was sitting in his lap, arms around his neck. He appeared to be kissing her cheek and both were laughing.

"Owen," she murmured in response to his unasked question. He couldn't stop the growl that escaped his throat as he flipped to the next page. It was a message, scrawled in red marker.

Katie, it read, Don't you remember how happy we were? How in love? I know you liked it, Katie. I was there. You were such a tight little bitch. So pure…virginal, even. And you were hot for me. You can't deny that, Katie. I saw you on TV yesterday—you're even more beautiful than I remembered you. Just be sure to watch what you say. We both know the truth. You wanted it. You wanted it badly enough to let that cunt of a friend of yours die. Don't forget I was there, too. And I know.

Castle felt sick. And if he felt that way, he couldn't imagine what Kate was going through. He looked up from the note, trying to get a read on her.

She was pale, blank faced. Gently, he reached to touch her arm. He wasn't surprised when she jumped back with a snarl.

"Kate," he pleaded. "Kate, it's just me." He lifted his hand to her cheek and this time she didn't pull away. She leaned into his touch briefly, closing her eyes.

The words from Owen's letter were burned into his mind. Tight…pure…virginal…God, did that mean…? He couldn't even think about it, couldn't fathom the thought of that bastard being Kate's first.

"Kate," he said gently. "Say something, please."

She was shaking hard and he tensed, ready to catch her if she went down. He knew without a doubt that any progress she'd made that day in overcoming her guilt had been virtually undone.

Before he could say anything else to her, she pulled away from him, taking off toward the bathroom. By the time he caught up with her, she'd slammed the door and locked it. He could hear her vomiting into the toilet.

Groaning, he sagged against the wall, letter and photograph still in his shaking hands. Tears filled his eyes as he sank to the floor. Alone on the floor of Kate's apartment, while she felt apart on the other side of the door, Castle cried.

Xxx

A/N2: A bit of a long one, I know. I thought about dividing it up but I had all of the ideas in my head and it made sense to put them together.

Also, I originally intended to have Kate be fine having Olivia's parents there right away but a reviewer encouraged me to do otherwise. I like it lots better this way. So thanks!