Chapter 8

Feeling his heartbeat quicken as he stepped out of the elevator, Castle straightened his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the small bouquet of daisies he carried. Normally, if he was going to get something as a treat for Kate, he would not have considered anything but coffee, but given the circumstances he didn't want to provide her with a boiling hot liquid she could then throw at him. At least the flowers would be soft if they ended up being chucked in his direction.

Walking from the elevator towards Kate's desk felt more akin to walking The Green Mile; he only hoped she'd let him say what he came to say before she drew her weapon on him. Deciding on how much time he should wait before contacting her after the incident and waiting too long had been a tricky avenue to navigate, but he'd hoped he'd found the sweet spot. Before he even told her about what he found out about her mother's case he strongly suspected their partnership—not to mention friendship—would be ruined, but he still held on to the sliver of hope that maybe someday she could forgive him and that would only happen after he apologized quite thoroughly.

When he rounded the corner of the bullpen and found she was not at her desk, he was slightly disappointed, but not deterred. Perhaps he'd check with Ryan or Esposito to see if she was on shift today. If not, he'd leave and try again the following. If so, he would wait. Hours, if necessary. As it turned out that wasn't needed at all, because as he neared her desk he saw her approaching from the side hall. Her eyes fell on him and he tried to smile, but instantly the cold fury he'd seen during their last interaction returned to her face.

Kate walked up to her desk, tossed what appeared to be a paper towel in the trash can beside it, and then turned to her left to summon one of the officers from a group standing and chatting around another detective's desk.

"Officer Banks? Can you please escort Mr. Castle off the premises?"

Immediately he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, and he jumped forward towards her desk. "Wait, wait hold on – I just need five minutes," he said as he delicately placed the bouquet of flowers on her desk as a peace offering.

Her gaze flicked down to the flowers then back up to his face. "No."

"Three minutes?" he bargained.

Narrowing her gaze at him she hissed, "What part of 'I never want to see you again' isn't getting through your thick skull, Castle? Banks!"

The officer, who appeared as though he had not been on the force more than a couple of years, stepped forward with a look of confusion, but Rick took three steps in the opposite direction, continuing to plead with his former partner.

"No, no, wait! Please. I came to apologize. Please just let me apologize and then I'll go willingly. I promise."

Rick half expected to see smoke seeping from her ears as she stared him down for ten seconds before relenting, "Fine." She then gestured towards him with her right hand before folding her arms tightly across her chest. He understood this as a gesture encouraging him to begin his apology, but as he glanced between Kate and poor Officer Banks, who was apparently frozen in place unsure if he was to back away or escort the writer out, Rick didn't think that was wise.

"C-could we do this in private? I don't think you want other people hearing-"

"Fine. Jesus." She muttered as she stomped her way into the nearest conference room. She held open the door and Rick was not afraid to admit he scurried past her, half fearful she might reach out and punch him or try to trip him. She did neither and instead slammed the door behind him, planted her fists at her hips and demanded, "Just get it over with."

Sucking in a deep breath, Rick tried to recite the words he'd written out the night before so he would be sure to hit all the apology points he wanted to.

"I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry I looked into your mother's case against your wishes. That was wrong. I should have respected what you said and because I went off on my own, I hurt you and that was never my intent."

When he revealed to her the evidence he had showing that her mother's case had not only been carried out by a professional, but that it was linked to several other unsolved killings, he expected the fury and the rage. She shouted at him, told him to leave and never come back. He did turn to leave, but when he looked back over his shoulder and saw that her anger had been replaced with intense pain, it shattered his heart. Still, he couldn't exactly bring himself to regret his decision, because he felt he had done so with the best intentions.

"I just… It's been hard for me to reconcile who you were then and who you are now. You have the same sharp wit and edge that had me first attracted to you but beneath that surface there used to be lightheartedness—a girl who smiled more than scowled, who laughed at my jokes, teased me, and enjoyed running carefree down a beach without her shoes on."

Kate made a flippant noise. "I believe most people do tend to change a bit after high school."

"But this isn't maturing and change," he continued, taking one tentative step towards her, "It…its being clouded by sadness. I get it—I do. I can't imagine losing my mother. You carry a burden and I thought it just might be that case. Watching you work these past few weeks has taught me you'll stop at nothing to find justice, but your own mother didn't get it and I can only imagine how that eats you up inside. I…I just wanted to try and fix it."

"You wanted to be the hero," she said, her tone so snide that his knee-jerk reaction was a defensive one.

"No! Well, maybe a little," he added after a moment. He did want to help her, but more than that he wanted to be the one who provided her the closure she desired. He knew then how selfish that was, but still he felt compelled to be honest. "I just…I wanted my friend back."

She let out a small, "hmph," and then continued with, "Well it's too late for that. Now…you know where the elevators are-"

"Wait!" He stopped her as she reached out for the door handle and that earned him a glare, but he clasped his hands together pleadingly. "Wait, please, I have one more apology—for that night eleven years ago."

Kate pulled her hand to her side and gazed at him with genuine curiosity; clearly, she had not been expecting that to come out of his mouth, but Rick knew that if it was truly the last time they would speak to each other, he wanted to walk away knowing he'd made amends for everything.

"That night…I woke up around three a.m. and I saw you sleeping, all curled up beside me and I…I had this moment. Of peace. Happiness. I wanted to be there with you, just like I'd wanted to be with you for the prior ten days when we spent practically every moment together. I'd never felt like that before and it scared the shit out of me. I was twenty-one years old, had just received word of my first book going to publication—I thought I was just about to start a whole new life.

"My brain flashed forward to the end of the week, how we'd say goodbye. I wondered…I wondered if maybe we'd agree to keep seeing each other—we could for another few weeks with us both here in the city – but then you'd leave for California and would we have a long distance relationship? I didn't think I was ready for that and I just let my mind spin wild with these scenarios until I freaked myself out enough that I had to get out of there. Then, of course, as I was trying to leave, I realized your father was in the hall and had seen me and I panicked more."

He rubbed his fingers across his forehead for a moment then let his arms flop to his sides as he gazed at her. "The point is: what I did was wrong and childish and I'm sorry. It was bad enough that I made you worry about my safety, but now I see that I could have been a friend you needed during the hardest time in your life and for that I'm even sorrier." Giving her a small smile, he concluded his long-overdue apology with, "I, um, just wanted to add that I really appreciate that you allowed me to shadow you as long as I have and I, ah, wish you well—in everything."

With a nod, he slipped past her and stepped back out into the hall. Though he still felt unsettled, Rick was glad he had at least been able to accomplish what he came there to do. He knew that he would still feel a fair amount of sadness as he finished Nikki Heat's tale, and more than likely the book would end up being a one-off, not the series he envisioned, but he would just have to accept that as part of the consequences for making a choice he shouldn't have. He'd have to keep that in mind as a lesson he would present to his daughter the first time she ultimately made a poor choice and needed to live with the results. He only hoped that bad choice had more to do with fashion or academics than boys.

"Castle?"

He had taken three steps towards the elevator when he heard her voice and whipped around at the sound of it. Kate stood just outside the conference room, a tentative look on her face. "Yes?"

"I just…well, I was thinking that if you still wanted to do some research by shadowing my team, I suppose that would be okay with me."

"You—I—oh," Rick stammered, stunned by her invitation. Playing it over again in his mind he realized that she meant she wouldn't stop him from shadowing Ryan or Esposito if they were willing, which he supposed was quite generous of her given the circumstances. "Well, thanks. I'll reach out to Ryan and Esposito and see what days work best for them."

"I…" She appeared a bit surprised, and if he was not mistaken, the tips of her ears were turning a bit pink. "I—I mean that you could shadow any of us. Me included. If it helps your book, I mean."

"Oh. Oh! Well, that would be—I mean, I'd really, really appreciate that, because I…" Instead of saying the truth, which was that he was really going to miss her, he instead changed course mid-sentence instead said, "I really want to make sure I get all the details right."

She nodded and took a few steps towards him so she could add a bit quieter, "Just don't ever break a promise to me again, okay?"

"Of course—I mean no, never. I won't. I promise. Thank you."

With one of the corners of her mouth turning upwards ever so slightly, she gave him a nod. Then after she turned back towards her desk she added, "Oh—thanks for the flowers."

"Of course, Beckett. I'll…see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she echoed.

Then, with that, Castle turned and tried his best not to skip his way towards the elevator.

Stepping into her apartment, Kate felt exhaustion pour over her like a wave. She shrugged off her jacket, and then reached down to unzip her boots, letting out an involuntary wince as she did so. It was her choice to incorporate the heeled boots into her daily wear even though she did, on occasion, need to run in them. Normally, she didn't mind. Quite frankly it made her feel like a total badass, but on occasion the decision did backfire on her. Like that day. Not only had she chased a suspect almost three blocks, but he'd bailed off the sidewalk into a construction area with uneven terrain. As a result, she'd tripped and rolled her ankle slightly while taking down the perp. Worse, he hadn't even been their murderer. He had been guilty of dealing pills to high schoolers, but he had not killed the assistant soccer coach; that person was still out there somewhere.

As the case had hit a bit of a dead end, Kate knew she needed to take the evening to focus on something else, so after she grabbed an ice pack for her ankle, she limped her way into the dining area of her apartment and stared down at the makeshift murder board she'd created there. With her mother's case staring back at her, Kate sat, propped her sore foot up on the chair beside her, and skimmed her eyes across the pictures and documents as she had so many times before.

Deep down she knew that stepping away from one case only to try and focus on another was a bad idea. The fact that her mother's case was the one she chose to focus on was an even worse idea, yet she couldn't stop herself. She told herself she could be in control this time; she could keep herself out of the rabbit hole, but she wasn't sure she believed it.

When Rick had come to her two months earlier wearing an expression that reminded her of a puppy that had been kicked, she braced herself for something ridiculous. Then, when he'd started speaking about her mother, fury had burned in her so bright it nearly rendered her deaf. She had been so angry with him her brain simply hadn't processed the words he was saying until later. When she was able to step back and take a breath enough to process the gravity of the information he provided her, an avalanche of emotions toppled upon her head.

Over a decade earlier, when the NYPD had concluded that her mother's death was a result of an unsolvable act of random violence, Kate remembered being partially numb to the news. She was still processing her mother's death, her father had begun to drink more heavily, and she was still supposed to be doing her schoolwork. Simply put: it was all too much. As time passed and she delved deeper into her education in criminal law, the less the decision to stop investigating made sense to her.

Could her mother's death really have been a result of a random mugging? Sure, but what were the odds that random person had committed the perfect crime with no evidence or leads left behind? Even to a twenty-two-year-old Kate that seemed improbable. As she went through her NYPD training, she knew that following leads and evidence was sometimes easier said than done, but she still remained determined to investigate on her own—and she had until it began to take too much of a toll on her life and she was forced to walk away.

Now, with the knowledge Rick provided that her mother was most likely murdered not by a random thug but a professional who had killed others around the same time period with the same method, she was a mixture of furious, heartbroken, and horror-struck. Accepting a random act of violence was bad enough but knowing her mother's death was intentional—that it was ordered by someone—was even worse.

When her mother had first died, the police had supposedly gone through her cases and interviewed people associated with open ones to see if there could have been any involvement and claimed they found none. Now, she looked back on that with skepticism.

If the medical examiner at the time had not realized the connection between her mother's murder and others, didn't it also stand to reason that the cops investigating also could have missed a connection with one of her open cases? Perhaps her mother's killer could have been caught if everyone had been a little more dedicated. And then, of course, there was the most horrifying thought of all: what if everyone had been dedicated—to covering up the murder. What if they brushed it off as a random event because someone powerful was involved? That notion made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but it also made her more determined than ever to find the truth.

Her ankle now feeling sufficiently cold, Kate reached over, pulled the ice pack off, and tossed it on to the edge of the table. She drummed her fingers against her chin as she looked over the details and thought. Nothing was jumping out at her yet, but it would—it had to.

She stared for a few more moments then reached out for the updated autopsy file and dusted her fingers over the stickie note Rick added with some comments. She traced her fingers over some of the letters, unsure of how she felt about his involvement in and knowledge of the case. She had been furious at him for betraying her and dredging up old memories but had also accepted his heartfelt apology a few weeks prior. She also knew that one day she would have to thank him, for if it wasn't for his meddling, she never would have known the truth and knowing the truth was always better than not knowing, even if it did break your heart.

After staring at the documents with little progress for another half hour, Kate decided she might as well shower and attempt to actually relax for the hour she had before she needed to get to bed. She walked back towards the door and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack so she could hang it in her closet. As she did so, she absentmindedly checked the pockets as she usually did, lest she leave something important behind. Doing this, her fingers came in contact with a crumpled piece of paper, which confused her. She didn't remember putting it there. Pulling it out, saw a crumpled piece of paper with the words "You got this" written in Rick's scrawl.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she remembered the moment when she returned to her desk from the bathroom, where she'd attempted to clean up the dirt from her palms and the knees of her pants after tackling their rabbiting suspect. He had, with a very serious expression, handed her the note before she could walk off to interrogation. It was silly and strange, yet somehow made her laugh. And smile. He did have a habit of doing these little things—passing notes, bringing her coffee, or just generally goofing around. She—lord help her—had admitted to missing those lighter moments during the time he wasn't shadowing her. Even if they did annoy her most of the time—well, some of the time—they still kept her distracted, kept her from letting the dark, serious nature of her job affect her mood and she did appreciate that. As for what the future held for them and their partnership, she wasn't sure, but for the moment that was okay; they would just see how things went and take it one day at a time.

A/N - FYI there will be a bonus update this week so I can finish on Halloween :)