Author's Note: I can't apologise enough for disappearing for a year between updates! I really struggled with this chapter, and I still don't think it's very good, but I wanted to get going again. I doubt anyone is still reading this anyway!

Reminder: this story is very AU. It's set in a world where Kate moved in with the Castles after her loft exploded in Tick, Tick/Boom. This is set 6 months after that episode, in an AU season 3 where she still lives at the loft with Castle and Alexis, but she and Castle are not in a relationship (yet). As a recap, last chapter, we found out that Kate's cousin Maggie died, leaving behind 7 year old twin boys with no family. Kate has to decide whether to apply for custody of them or not…

Kate and Castle sat in the tiny waiting room with the doctor who had told her that her cousin was dead. The doctor was asking a lot of questions about their father and next of kin for the boys. But they had no one. Kate was just coming to the realisation that she and her dad Jim could be the last family these boys had. She felt the heavy weight of responsibility fall on her shoulders. She knew she would have to chose whether to apply for custody or not. And she would have to decide soon, since the doctor was already phoning child services as they spoke.

Kate sat in the hard plastic chair, in the tiny room, Castle's hand clasped tightly in her own. Sometime during the paperwork and the endless questions there was coffee. It anchored her, and she knew it wasn't the caffeine, but the moment when Castle had stood in front of her and handed her the cup. It was that touch of the familiar. Everyday this man stood before her and handed her coffee.

And now everything had changed, but nothing had changed. Tomorrow he would stand before her and hand her coffee again.

It wasn't much. But it was constant. It was something sure and secure when nothing else was.

It meant they would get through this. Together.

She felt like a house of cards that had toppled over. And he was handing her the first piece to start building again.

Kate Beckett made tough choices.

At work she chose which line of investigation to follow, which evidence was relevant, which suspect to pursue. People thought homicide investigation was all about science, probably because of all those ridiculous procedural shows on in prime time, where they looked at the blood spatter and suddenly knew the height and weight of the perp. But in every investigation there were a thousand different paths to take, and Kate directed her team with unwavering steps. Her choices could mean the difference between Innocent and Guilt, between Justice and Failure.

And most of those decisions, she made alone.

Sure, Ryan and Esposito gave her information and opinions, and she valued them. But at the end of the day, she stood alone as the leader of their unit, and the onus fell upon her.

She bore the heavy weight of responsibility and did not falter.

Where Esposito and Ryan gave her the facts, Castle gave her the story, the motive. At times lately, Castle gave her her motivation. But what Kate did, her job, was the basis of her very identity. It was not the same for Castle. And Kate would always remember that he could leave her world as easily as he had entered it.

He did not have the obligation that she did. She was called to find Justice. And she would not fail.

In her personal life she made the rules. She said when men came, and when they left. She made the choices. And yet somehow Castle had found his way through that seemingly impenetrable wall of her life.

Now she had another choice to make. What would she do with two seven year olds who had no one in this world but her?

Could she do this alone?

Would she have to?

They arrived at Maggie's apartment and Kate used her key to let them in. The moment the door opened she was hit with a wave of Maggie's sent. Maggie's body down in the morgue had smelled all wrong, like antiseptic and formaldehyde and the iron tinge of blood. But the apartment spelled like vanilla and wildflowers and sharing bunk beds on summer vacations at the cabin on the lake with their families when they were teenagers.

God, Kate missed her so much already.

The apartment was still empty, dishes in the sink, Lego spilled out on the lounge floor, the light blinking on the answering machine. Like even the apartment was waiting for Maggie to come home.

"Any ideas on finding out which friend the boys were staying with?" asked Castle. "Maybe a datebook or list of phone numbers?"

They looked on the table and then the kitchen bench but there was nothing obvious. Kate looked on the fridge, not really sure what she was expecting to find, but there was only the boys' artwork, proudly displayed.

The blinking light of the answering machine attracted her attention again, and she hit play.

"You have two new messages. Message received at 1:09 pm."

Beep.

"Hi Maggie, it's Anne. Uh, just a reminder that the sleep over was ending at twelve, so the boys are here ready to be picked up. Umm, I guess you're not answering because you're on the way, so we'll see you soon. Err, ok, bye."

Beep.

Kate felt herself slump against the counter in relief. The boys were safe. Beside her, the answering machine continued to play.

"Message received at 2:55 pm."

"Uh, hi again Maggie, I hope everything is ok. Um, we're getting a bit worried here. We can take care of the boys til later if you need, just let us know. Err, maybe I'll try your cell again. Right so, uh, I hope you're ok."

Beep.

It was simple then to locate Anne's number in the list by the phone. Kate reached for the phone to call her, but stopped at the touch of Castle's hand on her forearm. His fingers slid lightly up to her wrist and then eased the receiver from her hand.

"Let me, Kate," he begged.

She wanted to argue. She could do this. She was tougher than this.

But he already knew that. He wouldn't think less of her.

She nodded, relinquishing her hold on the phone. Castle let out a breath of relief beside her.

She didn't think she could bear to hear those words again. Accident. Died. Nothing they could do. Dead. Dead. Dead. She left the small open kitchen/lounge area of the apartment while Castle was picking up the phone to dial and blindly took the first door she came across in the hallway.

It was the boys' room. The two twin beds took up almost the entire area of the bedroom. The tiny area of floor space between the two narrow beds was covered with toys. Kate found herself sitting on the patch of empty floor at the foot of one of the beds, leaning back against the mattress.

She had to think. Had to make a choice. Could she take care of the boys? They didn't have any more family, but maybe had a friend who would want to take care of the boys. Would Maggie want her to?

She looked around the empty room as though searching for the answer. Her gaze was caught by a piece of fabric crumpled on the floor beside her. She picked it up and unfurled it, only to find it was a dress-up Batman cape. She ran her hands over the silky surface. She had brought this for the boys, she remembered. They had always thought her job was so cool, catching the bad guys just like a superhero.

Kate had a sudden flash of visiting Maggie and the boys a couple of years ago. They'd been excited for weeks before her visit, although when she actually arrived they'd been disappointed. Somehow they'd gotten the idea that she drove a Batmobile and were devastated to see her pull up on her bike. It wasn't even like Robin's motorbike, and it didn't have a button to release oil to make the bad guys run off the road when they were chasing her. Kate was pretty sure her 'cool Aunt' status had dropped significantly that day.

She wasn't really their aunt, of course. But they always called her Aunty Kate. It had never seemed to matter before, but would that make a difference to what happened now?

At first, all her focus had been on getting to the hospital and finding the boys. At the horror of losing her cousin, she hadn't been able to contemplate more than one moment at a time. It wasn't until the doctor at the hospital had started asking that she realised the boys had no one left now. Maggie had been pretty into the drug scene when she got pregnant with the twins. The father had split pretty quickly – Kate had never even met him. But Maggie had turned her life around, all for her boys. They were the centre of her existence. Maggie's parents were both dead and she didn't have any siblings, so Maggie had done it tough, raising the boys alone.

Kate knew her father had helped since he got sober. But he was getting older, and Kate wondered if he could care for the boys full time. But then, what were the alternatives? Could she take care of two seven year olds? Wouldn't they be better off with a loving family, two parents, a stable home, rather than a work-addicted, damaged detective?

On the other hand, Kate had seen enough of the foster system to know the realities of what they faced. The system was overcrowded and completely overburdened. There was no guarantee of a safe, 'normal' family if they went into care. Especially if they wanted to stay together. There weren't too many families that wanted two kids. More than likely they would end up in a group home.

What but else could she do? Could she take care of two kids? Would they even give her custody? Would they be better off without her?

Could she even afford to take care of them? She was struggling now to get the money together to get a place and just to pay her own expenses. Everyone was always saying how expensive kids were. How could she support two boys on her detective's wages? Her dad wasn't really in the position to be able to help out much with money.

It felt like her skull would explode with all the questions. The indecision was like a lead weight in her stomach, tucked up under her ribs. She wished her mother were here. She had no idea what to do, and all she wanted was her mother to tell her everything would be ok. It had been years since her mom died, but there were still some times she was desperate to have her back for just a minute.

As she sat on the floor, head in her hands, and thought about how much she wanted her mother here, she realised that the boys would feel the same way. They could never ask their mom for advice again. Maybe they wouldn't realise that today, but someday they would want to ask a girl to a dance, or pick a college or chose a career. They would to look to their mom for guidance. And she wouldn't be there.

Kate knew that feeling.

And maybe that made her the best thing these boys had.

Maybe this wasn't a big decision. Maybe she didn't have to think about money and finding an apartment and all the hours she worked. Maybe she just had to love these boys.

She could do that.

She continued to sit on the floor of the bedroom, her head resting back on the bed behind her, her fingers tracing the bat symbol on the black cape. The recognisable thump of Castle's footsteps sounded in the hallway for a moment and then paused at the bedroom door.

"Kate?" his muffled voice asked.

She made a noise which Castle obviously took as permission to enter, because his head appeared around the door a second later. He locked eyes with her for a moment and she knew he was saying that he'd found the boys and got directions to the house where they were having the sleepover. She maintained the eye contact for a moment and knew he would understand that she was thanking him for calling, for being there, for driving them here, for giving her a moment alone with a Batman cape to find some strength.

She stroked the cape in her hands once more, then carefully, deliberately, folded it, smoothing the surfaces as she went. She stood from her position at the end of the bed and opened the lid of the wooden toy chest in the corner. Her dad had made this for the boys, she remembered. Part of this therapy when he was drying out was learning wood crafting. It seemed symbolic, fitting somehow, to put this symbol of innocence away in that box.

Castle seemed to appreciate the metaphor. "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things," he murmured quietly.

Kate carefully placed the cape in the toy chest and closed the lid.

Kate Beckett knew how to break bad news.

First, you got rid of any distractions – cell phone, pager, other people – so you wouldn't be disturbed. Then you went into a quiet room, preferably with muted lighting, enough seats for everyone. And tissues. You closed the door. You sat down so that you were eye level with the family. You used open body language. You addressed the next of kin by name if you knew it, and used the decedent's name. You introduced yourself and your role. You gave a brief explanation, with no complex or emotive language. But you made sure you said 'dead' so there was no confusion.

And then you waited.

First, there was silence. Then an outpouring. The first words were almost always 'what?' or 'no'. A denial. A desperate attempt to keep the truth at bay.

You stayed firm. You conveyed regret. You spent as much time as you could.

Kate Beckett knew how to break bad news. She was good at it, in fact.

But then, Kate Beckett had never told two seven year olds that their mother – her cousin – was never coming home.