This chapter is dedicated to the people I've worked with over the last 2 days. I wish I could adequately convey their empathy and support in the face of devastation, but mere words would not do them justice. I am frequently impressed by the depth of caring that I see routinely from my co-workers to their patients and families, but the last 2 days have proven once again that I work with some incredible people. Thank you.


January, 2000

"Kate? You still with me?" He thought she looked a bit piqued. He mentally kicked himself for bringing up a book about their time together on the island. She was a quiet, introverted person. She would not submit gladly to her fifteen minutes of fame.

"Yeah, sorry, Rick. Do you really think there will be an interest in our story?"

"Kate, you have to know there will be," he said gently. "We survived a shipwreck, and even if we're found tonight or tomorrow, it will have been long enough that most people would assume us long dead. Not to mention that we have the whole Grollet thing to deal with. If the men in the lifeboat survived, he should face some sort of punishment."

"You're right, of course. I just hadn't thought it through." She lapsed into silence, furiously thinking about the possible consequences of unwanted public attention. Her mother's murder would be raked over; her alcoholic father undoubtedly found under a rock. It would be agonizing and humiliating.

"Kate. Kate!" She looked up, finding Rick's eyes, as always, on hers, concern shining through.

"Once we're found and the initial hubbub dies down, it won't be bad. Probably just some local interest, here in French Polynesia, then it will be on to the next story. And I'll be with you the whole way. We'll get through it together." He knew as he said it that it was likely a lie. His celebrity would ensure some interest outside of the South Pacific. And he was sure Black Pawn would take advantage of his disappearance to hype the book he'd finished just before leaving on this voyage. No, there would be interest. A lot of interest, though it probably depended on how soon they were found. Perhaps people might forget about them?

For the second time in mere minutes he foreshadowed events that would overtake them many years later. And underestimated the impact so badly that he'd subsequently wonder why he ever even bothered to try and control their destiny and their privacy. They would be known world-wide; celebrated by many. Hated by a few. But there would be no quiet reentry to the world. Not for either of them.


"Ok, so where were we?" she finally recovered. Had to keep going, because dwelling on what might come was foolhardy. They'd handle it when the time came. Nothing they could do in the meantime; their rescue was dependent on others.

"Let's see. I was telling you about Damien, how I decided I wanted to become a writer."

"Right. Though I have to say it's hard to reconcile the image of you, as I know you, sitting still at a typewriter or computer and bringing a story to life. I've always seen you as a man of action."

"Ah, but Kate," he said, holding up his hands and wriggling his fingers for her, "you haven't seen my magical fingers in action."

Kate involuntarily gasped and dropped her head. She didn't know if he'd be able to see her face flaming in the firelight, but she didn't want to take a chance.

"Uh, that might have come out wrong," he apologized. Though he didn't sound very remorseful. She refused to look up and see if he was sorry or not.

"So, anyway, I found that I liked writing. I decided to major in it in college, got into a pretty decent one and sometimes attended classes between parties and writing my great novel. That's when I met my first love. A woman I thought was my soul mate."

Kate looked up at these words. She'd heard a bite of sorrow in his voice; an old heartbreak. "What was her name?"

"Kyra. Kyra Blaine. She held my hand through rejection letter after rejection letter, helped keep my chin up. I really thought she was the one, you know?"

Kate didn't know. Not really. She'd never had that serious of a relationship with anyone, though she suspected she might soon know. She just shook her head.

"Ah, I forgot how young you are, and..." he caught himself before he finished the sentence, but she'd heard what was coming.

"I've not been involved with anyone since my mother died. I had a casual relationship with a guy in college; maybe it would have gone somewhere, who knows? But after my mom was murdered it pretty much destroyed the whole concept for me, for a while anyway."

Rick nodded. He'd suspected there'd been no one serious in her life, at least for the past year. Otherwise, she'd never have been left to suffer alone like she had.

"Anyway, Kyra helped me through some of the darkest years that I could have imagined at the time. No one wanted anything to do with my book. I was discouraged; would probably have given it up completely, but she helped me brush off the rejections and keep plugging away. I was so crazy over her, I decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level."

"You proposed?" Kate exclaimed, surprised.

"What? No. Not marriage. I wanted to live with her. Her parents didn't like me, but I was hoping they'd come around. But before I could ask her, she landed this incredible job in London. She told me she was taking it, and I was clearly not invited. She said the separation might do us some good; help us know what we wanted in life. After she was gone a year without any signs of coming back, I finally figured out she wanted a life without me. It was devastating."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Rick. That must have been really difficult to deal with."

"It was. I have to warn you, Kate, this is where my life starts to spiral into depths that I am truly ashamed of. Looking back, it's hard to fathom how I let myself fall so far, but I did. It's not something I like to talk about, but I want you to know everything."

Kate nodded. She could picture a crushed and broken Rick. Rejected by the career he'd chosen. Rejected by the woman he loved. She was beginning to see why he'd chosen to leave New York. Nothing criminal, as Henri Grollet had suggested. Just a man who'd failed at the two things he'd wanted most in life. No wonder he'd ended up on a cargo ship.

"Just when I thought I'd never see any color in the world again, I got a letter from a publishing company named Black Pawn. They were interested in my book. We struck a deal, and before I knew it, I was a best seller. A professional dynamo and a personal vacuum. It was a recipe for disaster."

Kate nodded absently, not really paying attention until the meaning of his words sank in. She sat straighter, drawing up her back to confront him. "Wait a minute. Did you just say you wrote a best seller?"

He nodded, taken aback by her surprise. "Is it so hard to believe? It wasn't my only book to be a bestseller. I've written a bunch more, all successes. But the issue wasn't that I had finally found fame and fortune through my books. It was that fame and fortune found me, a willing and eager student to sample every excess you can imagine. Drinking, drugs, women. No one told me no. Many nights I'd wake up with no knowledge of the previous night. No idea who was in bed with me. I was a mess, and I was headed to the bottom with a stone tied around my neck."

"What kind of books did you write? I've never seen any best-selling Rick Rodgers books."

"No, and you wouldn't. I didn't use my real name as an author. I had a pen name."

"Well, what is it?"

"Richard Castle."

"Richard…Castle? Really?!"

"Yes. Really."

"The mystery writer?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe it. Richard Castle books were my mother's favorite books to read." She smiled softly, thinking about her mother and how she would lose herself in a good book. "I brought one of your books with me on my trip. It was her favorite."

"Really, which one?"

"A Rose for Everafter. She loved it so much, it was falling apart when I took it from her bedside table after she died. Traveling hasn't helped it, but it's still readable."

"Wow, that's amazing. We've had a connection longer than either of us thought," Rick mused.

"You're really Richard Castle?" It was hard to believe she was sitting on a tiny beach in the middle of nowhere with the man who'd written the one book she'd brought with her.

"I really am. Well, that is to say I was. I still am," he flustered.

"I'm confused. Are you or aren't you?"

"I was." Seeing that this answer hadn't helped her confusion, he held up a hand so he could explain without interruption. "Look, Kate, Richard Castle became this bigger than life persona. A man of excesses in all things. He was drunk, often. Slept around, constantly. And was sad and unhappy all of the time. I grew to hate Richard Castle. No one wanted to know Rick Rodgers. It was like I was a man in a costume, like Goofy at Disney World. And no one wanted to ruin the illusion by letting me take off the very thing that was suffocating me. I wanted to leave Richard Castle in New York, so I did."

"Is that why you're Rick Rodgers here in French Polynesia?"

"Yes. My real name is Richard Rodgers; it's on my passport. So, when I arrived, it was much simpler to go by that. Nobody knew who I was. I could just be Richard Rodgers, the person. No one suspected that I was actually a best-selling author. But, I did eventually tell Anapa and Hina."

"I can't believe you're Richard Castle."

"That's the thing, Kate. I'm not. Not anymore. He was a drunken playboy with almost no virtues. Nothing to offer to the world beyond the pages he wrote. Richard Rodgers, on the other hand, is known as an honorable, dependable man. That's who I am. Not Richard Castle. Not anymore."

Kate didn't know what to say. She'd seen firsthand what alcohol had done to her father, but he'd been drinking to forget his pain. Rick had been celebrating his fame. It should be different, but perhaps the end result was all that mattered.

"To me, looking back, it seems like I was just an empty headed playboy; that's what the press loved to print about me. But, I was so lonely. Mother was newly married to her second husband, and an adult son who couldn't manage his own success was not welcome in their house. I realize now that I was trying to show Kyra what she was missing; that I didn't need her in my life. Of course, it failed spectacularly. I ended up with a reputation as a drunken womanizer. And I never found what I was looking for."

"What were you looking for, Rick?"

"A family. Someone to care about me, be cared about by me. Mother helped me get cleaned up, eventually. Then, I discovered I was at a cross-roads, not quite sure what to do with myself. That's when Meredith Harper waltzed into my life."

"Who was she?"

"She was an actress, like my mother. I met her at a cast party. She was vivacious, fun. A bit crazy. We had a great time together, but she never captured my heart. Not like Kyra had. I doubt we would have lasted another month if it had all stayed the same," he trailed off, eyes sad. Kate reached for him, this time. Touched his shoulder in comfort.

"Hey, it's ok. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

Rick looked over at her; she could see he was near tears. "I have to. This is the real reason I'm here, and not in the States."

She nodded, then instinctively took his hand and scooted closer. He'd been there for her; the least she could do was to try and be there for him.

"We were pretty hot and heavy, initially. Then one day, Meredith told me she was late. We ran out and got some of those home pregnancy tests. They confirmed my worst fears. She was pregnant. I was terrified. I had no idea how to be a father; I'd never had one, had no real examples. I spent a sleepless night wondering what the hell I was going to do. And then, as the sun rose I found myself bathed in the dawn light. I'd never gone to bed. And sitting there, warmed by the glow of the sun, I knew it would be okay. I stopped thinking about how a baby would impact my lifestyle and started thinking about how a baby would affect my life."

"What do you mean?"

"A baby would give me someone to love, someone to care for. That's what I really craved, though I didn't realize it in those terms at the time. I was suddenly ecstatic; couldn't wait for my child to arrive. But Meredith? Well, she's not very maternal. She wasn't too excited about the baby part. But she was relishing the proximity to my money and fame. She hadn't had a lot of success in her career; at least on her talent alone. Being with me had introduced her to a new level of publicity that she came to love."

"You make her sound so…mercenary."

"Yeah, well that's a good term. Actually nicer than what I would call her most days. I decided to propose; I wanted the wife, kid and white picket fence. Oddly enough, I really thought it would work. I just thought she needed some time to adjust to the whole idea of the baby. We had a scare about seven weeks in when she started bleeding. Everything checked out ok, but it made it all the more real to me. What I could lose, how much I wanted it all. I bought a ring, told my mother about it. I was disappointed with her reaction. But I knew she'd never cared for Meredith, and I hoped the baby would go a long way into bringing us all together."

"Then what on earth are you doing half way around the world from your child?" She couldn't imagine the man she knew abandoning his own baby, especially with the way he talked about having a family. It just didn't make any sense.

"I'm getting to that. It's not what it seems, please just let me finish, Kate."

She saw a stray tear trickle down his cheek, and she felt horrible. Obviously something had gone very amiss. And it was clear it had deeply affected him.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I'm jumping to conclusions, and it's not fair to you." She squeezed his hand again, then scooted all the way into him so that they ended up mutually supporting each other.

"I had planned out the proposal; had the ring, like I said. Then one day I came home early from a meeting, intending to finalize some details about the arrangements for the night I was going to ask for her hand. She didn't know I was coming home early. Neither did her director, who was in our bed with her."

Kate gasped, feeling some of the pain that must have pierced him in that moment travel through her own body. Rick shuddered, reliving the scene. Feeling the shiver, Kate instinctively wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled herself even closer to him. She had no words to make it better, but she would offer her support.

"We had a huge fight. I wanted to know if the baby was mine, or if she even knew whose it was. She claimed it was a one-time mistake; that she'd been faithful before, and of course the baby was mine. I told her I didn't believe her, and we spent several angry, miserable days fighting with any and all ammunition, verbally, that we could lob at the other. Needless to say, I didn't tell her about the ring or the proposal. The initial fury burned out after about a week, and I decided to trust her, outwardly, about the paternity of the baby. I'd simply get a blood test after the child was born, know for sure. We settled into a détente of sorts, trying to be happy again. But then…."

His body shook, and she knew it was bad. Tears were now falling freely from his eyes. Reaching up with one hand, she caressed one side of his jaw. "What happened, Rick?"

"Sh—she—she lost the baby," he sobbed, collapsing into her embrace. She felt her heart breaking for him, and just held him like he'd done for her all the times she'd broken down over the pain of losing her mother.


Rick cried for what seemed like forever, held tightly in Kate's arms. He'd never been able to let go to this degree, not even the day he'd learned that his baby was gone. His mother had embraced him, let him sob on her shoulder, but he'd always kept a piece of himself back. Here, under the now familiar stars of a different hemisphere and warmed by the body of the woman he'd come to love, he let go of all the pain and misery that he'd held onto for so long.

It was cathartic, and as he purged the grief from his soul he was suddenly glad that Kate had requested that he tell her his story. He knew how he felt about her; it was a love based in part on his admiration for her ability to overcome her own incredible traumas. If he'd kept himself shadowed, out of fear that she wouldn't like who he had been, she could never have returned his love. He understood that now. She needed to know the real Richard Rodgers. Not some artificial construct that proclaimed his strengths while trying to minimize his flaws.

Once he felt capable of continuing, he took a deep breath and started talking again.

"I felt crushed after that loss. I couldn't breathe in New York; didn't know what to do with myself. I had to get away, go somewhere to heal and find out who I really was. I told my publishing company that I was going off to do research on a new character. A man of many talents that I envisioned basing a whole series of books on. They agreed, though my publisher and my agent were aghast that I wanted to physically leave the country. They thought that was at best unnecessary and at worst simply self-serving. I think they were afraid of losing their tenuous control over me; I wouldn't be under their thumbs."

"They don't sound like very nice people," she murmured, still holding him tight.

"Oh, they're very good at what they do. Gina Cowell was my first book agent, when that initial best-seller finally came through. She moved over to Black Pawn as my publisher after a few years, and I've continued to work with her on all the books I've written. Paula Haas then became my book agent. She is brash and outspoken. Both of them think they need to ride me constantly to keep me in line. I suppose they were right, at least when I was still that little boy living the life of a man when I was in New York. But I had to get away, and there was nothing they could do to keep me there. Richard Castle disappeared and Richard Rodgers took over."

"That's how you ended up in French Polynesia?"

"Yeah. I just picked somewhere around the world from New York. Wanted to get as far away as possible. Tahiti sounded exotic and relaxing. I invited Meredith. I thought maybe if we got through things together that we'd have a chance. But she was derisive; she would never miss auditions and call backs. What was I ever thinking?" he parroted, attempting to match her derogatory tones.

"When did you first come out here?"

"I arrived in Papeete on November 27th, 1998."

"Just past my birthday," she mused.

"When's your birthday?"

"November 17th."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Hmmm. Can't take you to a bar in the States, I guess. We'll have to think of some other way to celebrate if we get rescued this year." He winced after he realized he'd said if and not when, but she didn't seem to notice.

"How old are you?"

"I'll be 28 in April. Much older and wiser than you, obviously." That earned him a playful pinch, which he gave a dramatic exclamation in response to, making Kate laugh. It was like music to his ears, and much preferred to the sobbing they'd both been doing too often as they rehashed their lives for the other.

"So, you came to Tahiti, and what? You've been here since 1998. I'd have thought that was more than enough research for anyone."

"Well, for almost two months I did next to nothing. I still wasn't happy, even in the middle of paradise."

Kate nodded, recalling her own feelings of wretchedness despite being surrounded by the natural beauty of Tahiti. She'd learned it wasn't the place that made you happy. That had to come from the inside.

"I was ready to throw in the towel and go home. My mother begged me too; she'd been okay with me leaving. Really the only one in my life that was. But she didn't understand the need for me to be gone for so long. I hadn't found anything inspiring enough to write about and I was terrified the whole exercise had been moot. And then, I met Anapa."

"How'd you meet him?"

"I was wandering around the docks. Trying to people watch, see if I saw anyone interesting enough that I'd want to try and capture them on paper. He saw me and thought I was at loose ends. Which I was, but he was worried I was desperate for a job and would be taken advantage of. He came over to me and struck up a conversation. I thought he was fascinating. You remember how kind and honest he is?"

Kate agreed, thinking fondly of both the captain and his wife. She hadn't known them long, but they were easily some of the nicest, most generous people she'd ever met.

"He offered me a job, on the Iriata. I said no at first; I didn't need a job, and certainly didn't want to be doing such strenuous labor. I was a soft writer, after all. But, there was something about Anapa that wouldn't let me forget him. I decided to do a trial run, figuring I'd spend a little time with him and Hina then get out and return home."

"So, what happened? Because you obviously didn't leave them after one run."

He chuckled. "No, no I didn't. I discovered it was all like a grand adventure. The sea, the sun, the islands. It was incredible. But even more than that, was just being around Anapa, Hina and the crew. Anapa treated me like a son, from the beginning. I'd never had a father in my life. I lapped it up like a starving puppy. And as one run turned into more, as a few days turned into months, I came to realize that I'd found a family. The very thing I'd been looking for in New York, but in all the wrong places. So, I stayed on. Learning all I could from both of them. They taught me so much; I'd never have survived a shipwreck a year ago. But under their tutelage I finally grew from a lost boy into a man."

"So you gave up writing?"

"No, not really. I learned so much from Anapa about how to survive, it imbued my new character with a strength of purpose that I'd never captured before. I wrote in my downtime, up in the bow, as you know. When we'd return to Papeete, I'd mail my completed work back to Gina. She hated that it was written out in longhand, but I didn't have any choice in the matter. I mailed the last chapter of my new book to her the night before we left to make the run to Mo'orea then on to Tupua'i."

"I wonder if they'll still publish it?"

"Well, I'm supposed to make all the final changes and approve it. But, I'd guess if they think I'm dead they'll push it through. Take advantage of the publicity that the disappearance of a best-selling author generates. Dead artists sell better than when they're alive, and all that. The morbid curiosity of the public. It's too bad, as I was really happy with the character, Derrick Storm. I was looking forward to writing more books about him."

"Were you planning on going back to New York anytime soon?"

He sighed, rubbed his head with one hand. "I honestly don't know. I loved being a part of the crew, a part of the family that I'd found. But I also knew I was avoiding my problems at home by staying away. I fled New York to get as far as possible from my fake friends and the conniving women who just wanted me for my public persona. I swore off it all: girls, drugs and booze. And I found I didn't miss any of it; rejoiced in a less complicated lifestyle. I think I was a little scared that if I went back that I'd fall right back into that trap again. Become Richard Castle once more."

"Do you really believe that?"

"No. Not really. I think I've grown up enough that I'm a different person than the boy that left New York. But it's still scary, not knowing how I'll respond."

"From what I've seen of you, Rick, there is no trace of that lost boy. You're an incredible man, and I know for a fact that you've saved my life. So, while I'm very sad that you went through so much, the journey has transformed you into someone that anyone would be proud to claim as a friend."

"Thank you, Kate," he said, hugging her tightly in return. "I can honestly say there is no one I'd rather be going through this whole experience with than you."

"Not even Anapa? I'm useless. I have to be taught everything. And I haven't been very good company over the last few weeks."

"Not even Anapa. I've enjoyed getting to know you, discovering the incredible depths that exist within you. And while it's true you didn't have any survival skills initially, you are a very fast learner. I think you're one of the most intelligent, capable people that I've ever met. So, while I wish you'd never had to go through the hell that this past year has been, had never lost your mom, I am grateful for whatever force that guided you to come to Papeete and then seek out the Iriata that day. I can't imagine not having you in my life."

No words were needed after that. They simply sat, leaning on each other as they began to learn that together they were stronger than either could be apart. It was a strength that would build inexorably over time, until even an accidental separation and the subsequent forces brought to bear against them would have no chance of tearing them apart.


I wasn't sure I'd be able to update today: my job on occasion has the ability to submerge me to the point that it is very difficult to accomplish anything else. The last 30 hours have been a true lesson in the important things in life. I'd like to think I learned the secret to life long ago: to love others, and be loved in return. Nothing else really matters when it all boils down to the bare essence of existence. I can't accurately portray the agony of what I see some families live through without writing a tragedy that no one would want to read. I do urge you to hug your loved ones and remember that in the end we're remembered by the people that we touched and not the money we made or the things that we owned.