July 21, 2017

I'm too tired for an author's note! Enjoy the chapter.

As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is far out in the alternative universe, more so than most. Which is part of the fun of fanfiction, exploring ideas where the show would never go. Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride.

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

Between Storms: Woman to Woman

CHAPTER TEN

Kate stood, unmoving, in the middle of the bedroom, frozen but for her ragged breathing. Rick's footsteps echoed cross her apartment, while tears streamed down her cheeks, plopping against her chest, one by one. The apartment door opened, and her eyes closed. She bit down on her lower lip, her brow furrowing as the door slammed shut.

The silence was broken by each gasping breath as she sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands as the tears came in torrents.

Rick, her ravaged heart cried out as the first sobs ripped out of her, shaking, and heaving. All she could see was his face, his momentary confusion giving way to shock, betrayal, and….

She shook her head, trying to chase away the devastation in his eyes. Rage would replace the hurt, she knew. Soon, he would want revenge, to hurt her in return. How many times had she witnessed the result of such destructive anger? It was only human nature. It was only what Kate deserved.

How many times had she wondered how to rebuild her life with him and Hannah as a family?

Not so much at first. At first, he was annoying and intrusive and she gave him no opportunity to dig into her life. Somehow, the levity and joy he brought to their work, the joy she felt with him, somehow it made her hope for a better future and a new beginning, like a beacon calling her from the cold night to an unknown time in the future when she valued the living more than solving the mysteries of the dead.

But, that was before she glimpsed the betrayal in his face, he recognized her selfish mistakes. He would not be back.

Martha and Alexis were curled up under a fuzzy blanket with a bowl of popcorn between them, watching Downton Abbey, when they heard a door slam and turned just in time to glimpse Rick disappearing into his bedroom.

Martha paused the show, listening to footsteps, doors opening and closing, and other muffled sounds of movement.

"Dad?" Alexis called out to no response.

"Richard?" Martha pulled the blanket aside, almost upsetting the popcorn bowl, but Alexis grabbed it just in time.

Still, there was no answer.

Alexis followed Martha toward the master suite.

"Richard? Whatever are you doing?"

Alexis peered over her grandmother's shoulder as her father unzipped a small suitcase on the bed.

"Dad, I thought you were staying the night at Kate's. What's going on." Her voice trailed off as she glimpsed his face.

"Richard, what happened?"

"Nothing happened, per say. I just realized I am married to a lying, cruel, manipulative, and deceitful woman." His voice was low, and rough as he yanked open a drawer, pulling jeans and sweaters out and throwing them into the suitcase.

"I don't understand," Alexis ventured. "Why are you—where are you going?"

"I am going to see my daughter."

Kate lay on the hard floor, for moments or hours, it seemed not to matter which, arms wrapping her knees, leather jacket and boots still on.

She longed to be at work, away, to feel like her efforts mattered to someone. Anything was better than sitting at home, dwelling on what slipped through her fingers. This was her addiction. Her father lost himself in drink. Kate lost herself in a never ending quest for justice. She denied the addiction usually, but still put it above all else, even her daughter. She craved the hunt for leads, for murder weapons, the careful analysis and hunt, most of all, the simple, clear-minded focus the righteous quest for justice of one without wrong doing. Such as it was at work.. She craved the deep involvement of a fresh homicide that shut out all concerns and focused her will on bringing a killer to justice.

"Your daughter?" Alexis looked completely confused. Martha's eyebrows knit in concern. Rick tossed a packet of toiletries into the suitcase and zipped it closed.

Martha lowered herself onto the bed. "Hannah. You're going to see Hannah."

"Dad, you're not driving back up to New Shrivenham tonight! They're predicting a lot of snow!"

Rick frowned and disappeared into the closet. "I should bring my bibs." A moment later, he dropped his ski pants and coat on the bed, and set a larger suitcase beside it.

"What happened? What changed?" Alexis asked, her voice filled with worry.

Rick glanced at his watch, his face grim as he transferred everything to the larger bag.

"They're forecasting six to ten inches of snow! You can't seriously be thinking of taking the Ferrari out in that!"

"I'll drive the Beemer." He zipped the suitcase closed. He shrugged his coat on and dragged the case off the bed before dragging Alexis to him, kissing her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow." He'd almost reached the door by the time she got directly in front of him again, pushing at him with both hands.

"What happened?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"Alexis," he whispered, setting both hands on her shoulders. He stared at her in silence for a long moment, his face flushed with emotion. He tenderly gathered her into his arms.

"Dad," she whispered finally, from where her head rested against his shoulder. "What changed?"

Firmly but gently, he pushed her away, dragging his suitcase toward the front door. "Ask Kate!"

The door swung closed behind him and his key turned in the locks.

Soon after death, autolysis begins. The body's cells split open, spilling their contents into a mass of biofluid. The freed enzymes begin digesting the organs.

Kate lay in the fetal position, surrounded by a sea of wet tissues. Her belly felt raw, crampy, like her body had already begun the process in spite of how her heart pounded away out of habit. Her heart. Her mass of quivering, tortured muscle, still beat despite its devastation. She again heard the words he'd spoken, saw the betrayal in his eyes. Castle, Rick. The one man who mattered, never mind that she'd pretended he didn't. He was gone and he'd never forgive her. She saw it in his eyes. He didn't hate her though, not yet.

She wanted a drink, something stiff and strong, and… she wanted… to disappear, to forget. She wanted to drink until oblivion took her, until she slept.

Like Dad.

Every night after Mom's murder, Jim Beckett drank himself to sleep. Kate would come home, or awaken, to find him, and put him to bed until it was too much to watch her father self-destruct, drinking himself to a mini-death every night.

She would never allow herself that escape, but that didn't keep her from craving it. She lay still, and sober, her tears drying on her cheeks and dying on the inside.

Rick's face appeared in her mind's eye, the shock in his eyes again turning to betrayal.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she pushed the image away, desperately trying to focus her breathing, to calm herself. At last, she abandoned the attempt, and rose, shaking. She pushed her hair back from her face, staring at herself in the mirror, the puffy, red eyes, the streaks of makeup on her cheeks.

Her makeup was streaked that other time, too. She remembered bits and pieces of how she looked, how her makeup was smeared on her face when she awoke in that first bed she'd shared with Richard Castle. Her hair tangled and in disarray, and his child unknowingly conceived within her.

She stared at herself, knowing she should wash, clean up, but she turned to stare at the bed, the cover slightly rumpled. The book lay on the bed, several pictures stuck out at odd angles.

She longed to hide under the covers, pull them over her head and disappear.

The phone rang, jarring her back to the present.

"Castle," she whispered, wishing, hoping it might be him. She snatched it from the pocket of the leather jacket she still wore, clutching it tightly.

Alexis.

God, no! I don't want to have to explain! It's bad enough… But she took the call. "Beckett," she croaked, her voice deep and husky with emotion.

"Kate?" Alexis asked, "Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself."

"I'm fine." The lie came easily and there was a long pause before Alexis spoke again.

"Kate what's going on with Dad? Did you—he came home, packed a suitcase and left."

"What did he tell you?"

Alexis hesitated. "Not much. He just said something about seeing Hannah. He didn't explain, and it's snowing. Kate, What happened? Did you have a fight?"

Kate closed her eyes. Of course. Like any new father, he would go directly to his daughter.

"Kate? Are you there?"

"Yeah. Let me clean up. I'll be over in a bit to explain."

If someone reveals this secret to her in anger, it will forever damage her view of her family.

What are you saying? she'd asked her father slowly, a new worry wrapping around her heart.

You're worried about your marriage, and rightly so, but, there's also a child involved. Don't let Hannah Joy anywhere near the explosion.

Kate's eyes drifted closed. Would Rick burst into the house shouting his anger for everyone to hear, heedless of the damage? New tears slid down the curve of her cheeks. After six years, what right did she have to deter him?

Thirty minutes later, Kate knocked on the door to the loft.

The door opened and Alexis's wide blue eyes bored into her. Kate looked away.

Alexis stepped aside to let Kate in.

Martha hovered near the sofa, the lines on her face were deeper than usual. Kate did not meet her gaze either.

Alexis closed the door carefully and the three women faced each other in silence.

Kate swallowed.

"Come in, Katherine," Martha gestured to the sofa. "Have some wine."

"No wine, Martha, thank you." Kate remained standing, her voice was soft but firm.

She did not want to see the same look of betrayal and anger on Martha and Alexis's faces that pierced her heart on Rick's. But, I owe them an explanation, she resolved to endure their accusations and face the consequences of her selfishness.

She took a deep breath and began. "Tonight, Rick discovered something I've kept from him. Something I should have told him long ago." She should prepare them better, she knew, but the words tumbled from her too quickly. "Hannah is his daughter. We met years ago, and… He didn't recognize me because I looked so different that night."

Martha did not move, but Alexis gaped at her. "What?"

"Hannah is Rick's daughter." She should have prepared them better for this, softened it somehow, but the secret was out, her worst faults exposed, and her marriage….

Only the hum of the kitchen appliances added to the sounds from the streets outside

"Hannah is my sister? My half-sister." Alexis voice rose.

Cold sweat trickled down Kate's spine and she stood stiffly and forced herself to meet the young woman's stare. "That's right." Her voice was flat, without any hint of emotion.

"I have a sister, a six-year-old sister." Alexis rose, her brows knotting in fury. "You've known all this time and never said anything?"

There it was, the same outrage, accusation, and betrayal. Next would come anger, hatred…. Divorce. Her insides turned to water and Kate suddenly needed to sit before she fell. Somehow, she stayed on her feet.

No one moved or spoke for a long moment. Kate waited for Martha's censure, which would come next. It was all she deserved after her long silence.

"I've always wanted a sister, my whole life, and now… I find out I've had one, and you never said anything. Why would you keep her from us?"

Martha spoke for the first time. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Martha waved a hand. "I don't mean all those years ago, but… Richard's been working with you for years. Why didn't you tell him then?"

Alexis broke in, her voice shaking. "He married you! You married him without even telling him!"

Kate sank onto the sofa, her hair falling forward as she hid her face in her hands.

"How could you—" Alexis choked and her eyes blazed a passionate blue.

The tears started again. Against Kate's will, they rolled down her cheeks squeezing beneath her palms to plop on her jeans. For a few short weeks, she'd had everything. Now it was over.

"Alexis," Martha interrupted. "I need to speak with Katherine alone. Go upstairs, please." It was not a request.

"The hell I will!" The teenager's fury rose and Kate looked up to see the two face off. "I'm seventeen years old, and I live here too. Whatever you say you can say to…."

"Are you a mother?" Martha broke in. "Have you made mistakes, as a mother, and had your heart ripped out of your chest when you see your child suffering because of those mistakes? Go upstairs, Alexis. Now. Katherine and I need to talk."

Alexis and Kate stared at Martha. Finally, casting Kate a furious look, Alexis tromped up the stairs.

The footsteps faded and a door slammed upstairs; and all was relative silence.

Kate eyed Martha, who gave a deep sigh and gestured to a half-full goblet still in her hand. "I need something stronger than this. Scotch, vodka, or martinis?"

"I'll pass," came Kate's quiet reply.

"Pshhh!" Martha said. "I'm not drinking alone, and you look like you need one, too."

"Vodka then."

Martha nodded and…. Several minutes later, they were seated at the table together, low flames in the fireplace snapping away. Each held a tumbler of vodka on the rocks. Kate barely felt the burn as it ran down her throat, pathetically grateful for its numbing influence. They sat in silence. Finally, Kate felt Martha's gaze upon her.

"How did he take it?" Martha asked softly.

Kate blinked at her. "It was horrible. He found… he found this." She withdrew Kissed and Killed from her handbag and slid it toward the older woman. "There are photos inside, and notes."

Martha pulled it closer, examining each photo, one by one. "I knew her at once, you know, at the wedding. Richard looked much the same at that age, square jaw, the eyes… Of course Richard was a tow head and Hannah Joy has your coloring. Her long hair heightens your resemblance."

Kate stared at Martha. "You… knew?"

"Of course," she said peering at a photo of Hannah. "I am Richard's mother. No one alive knew him better, or at least, him as a child. Of course I knew." She smiled softly. "Although I didn't actually suspect anything until she jumped into the family portraits at the wedding. That was rather risky, bringing her."

"She wanted to come, to sneak around playing spy."

A whimsical smile crossed Martha's face.

"She just jumped into the photos. That wasn't planned."

"I suppose not. I nearly dragged your father off into the corner for the details, but…" She raised one eyebrow and gave Kate a piercing look. "Martha Rogers doesn't pry—much—and she certainly doesn't interrogate anyone."

Kate had raised her glass to drink but set it down instead. "What do you want to know?" she asked quietly.

Martha sighed. "What's done is in the past. I'm more concerned about the future."

Kate stared into the flames across the room. "The future depends on Rick."

Martha nodded. "And?"

Annoyance flashed over Kate's face. "And… he'll probably want a divorce, or an annulment if he can get one." Her voice was choked and her vision blurred.

"And if he does? What then? Will you fight his claim for paternal rights?" There was an edge to Martha's voice beneath its softness.

"No!" Kate shook her head emphatically. "No, that's the hell of it. I want him to have a relationship with Hannah."

Martha nodded, watching her carefully.

Kate knew she was wanted her to reveal more and suddenly, she didn't care. She was so damn tired of keeping secrets. What was it all for, anyway?

"Martha, if I could go back in time and tell Castle about Hannah from the beginning, I would."

Martha's scrutinized Kate's face. "Why?"

Kate sighed, exasperated. "Isn't it obvious? Because he's an incredible father and Hannah missed out not having him in her life."

Martha waited.

"And, because I can't imagine my life without him." Her voice trailed off and she stared at the gleaming table in silence.

Martha's was very quiet. "What if Richard doesn't want a divorce? What then?"

"If…" Kate's hands convulsed into fists. Her eyes burned and her throat tightened. "Whatever…" she swallowed with difficulty. "Whatever we have to do to rebuild… start again… without any secrets…" she rubbed her face.

Martha waited in silence. "Why?"

Kate lowered her hands, staring at her mother-in-law. "Why do you think? Martha, I wasn't so desperate to get married that I'd have asked just anyone. It's Castle. For me, it's just Rick that I want, now and always."

Martha met her gaze and nodded. "And have you said as much to him?"

She shook her head. "I was going to tonight." Her eyes dropped to the tabletop. "No, Martha, I've been so afraid of losing him, I…I never told him how I really felt. I've made such a mess of things. I've ruined everything."

"Maybe not," Martha said thoughtfully.

"Martha?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Because my son is so very much in love with you." Martha smiled sadly, reaching for Kate's hand, clasping it in both of hers. "Now, let's talk about Richard. What's your plan, hmm?"

"Plan?"

"For getting him back! Katherine Beckett is not a woman to go down without a fight!"

"Well, no… but… Martha, this is a horrible breach of trust. He's not going to just forgive me and pretend it is a nonissue."

Martha shook her head in agreement. "No, no, he won't. But if you want this marriage to work, you'll need to fight for it. You're going to need to let him know just how very necessary he is in your life, and to what lengths you will go to earn his forgiveness." She met Kate's gaze squarely. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, I just—I don't think he will ever trust me again."

"Pssh." Martha waved a beringed hand. "One thing at a time. Now, he's with Hannah tonight and will probably stay with her several days. Give him some time. He'll need it. Then, go to him. Wear something sexy, bring a bottle of wine—he likes Châteauneuf-du-Pape—but, most of all, be ready to answer any question, and be ready to lay it out for him. Put everything on the line."

Kate swallowed and nodded.

"Above all," Martha fixed her with her piercing blue gaze. "Be sincere, and be vulnerable."

Kate nodded, thinking carefully. "Martha," she asked at last, "why are you helping me? Why aren't you angry too?"

"Darling," Martha clasped her hand in both of hers, "You are hardly the first person to lie about her child's father, or to that child's father." In her eyes was an ancient sorrow. "And, I would do anything to see my family whole and happy." Martha rose and pulled Kate to her feet, then into her arms. "And that includes you." She held Kate by the shoulders and looked into her face. "Now how are you?"

"Terrible. I thought I'd be glad to have the secret out in the open, but it's like all my worst fears multiplied by ten."

"Oh, I agree. There's not enough vodka in the world for this many secrets." Martha nodded. "You've been through hell, kiddo. Finish your drink and go to bed. No, absolutely not. You're not leaving. You are still Richard's wife and you belong here."

Kate felt a rush of gratitude to her mother-in-law. "I'm not sure Rick or Alexis would agree."

"You leave Alexis to me. Richard won't be home tonight anyway. Go to bed. He knew you had secrets when he married you. Stop being ashamed and start living!"

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