Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Castle. Do own *a* castle, but it's Lego.
[No Spoilers in reviews please...]
A/N: Elements here are personally sensitive. Enough said. If depictions of alcoholism are a problem, then skip the italicized parts (or all of this chapter).
A/N 2: I'm working with what little info they've given us regarding time line; merging that with elements of public records (for example the Stanford University archives). Sometimes that research gives weird results, but it is what it is.
A/N 3: As a aside, in part feel free to blame Flashpoint33 for the delay here, I was extremely distracted but the latest updates on '226 Miles'; and another author berating me for reading too much into some scenes of another fic (my bad!)
A/N 4: In future I will confine myself to ONE author note - it's getting ridiculous.
Beta Note: Thanks again to my beta (elizabeth . bynog) for the particularly thoughtful and tough effort involved in this chapter.
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Kate could feel the fragments of dream and nightmare begin to coalesce around her; tequila-sodden brain too weakened to fight free; a small whimper slipped from her lips as she shifted uncomfortably on the couch and drifted into restless sleep.
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Kate walked arm-in-arm with her dad toward the elevator in her parents apartment building, wondering why her mom had missed their dinner. She'd skipped out on the first week of classes back at Stanford, which had started the Tuesday before, in order or spend a little more time with her parents before flying back.
Jim hugged their looped arms into his side and they swayed together, companionably as they waited for the doors to open, "Don't worry Katie, you know she gets all wrapped up in her work sometimes; she'll be back before you have to pack tonight."
She tried her best not to whine, she really did, but her mom had missed the last dinner before she had to leave! "Sure Dad, but it's my last night and I already missed the first week, and it's only my second quarter! Classes started on the 5th, my advisor is going to be really unhappy when I get back, I'm going to have a ton of catching up to do!"
Kate felt and heard he dad laughing, "You'll catch up just fine honey, you always work too hard anyway when you sink your teeth into something."
As they finally exited the elevator they both slowed; there was an strange man standing in front of the apartment door, knocking.
Jim stepped a little in front of Kate as he approached the man, "Hello? Can I help you?"
The man turned from the door to watch their approach, appearing to weigh the presence of the two individuals, "Mister James Beckett?"
Kate watched her dad nod slowly in acknowledgement, "Yes. What's this about?"
The man was now flashing a badge, flip open, flip closed, just enough time of her father to get a solid glance, "Detective Raglan, NYPD; may I have a word? Inside would probably be best."
After letting them all into the apartment, Jim escorted Detective Raglan to a chair in the living area, a chair Raglan choose not to sit in; Kate stood slightly out of the way, observing. The operation of the law had always fascinated her, not that it would had ever been surprising given both her parents were lawyers, and she'd opted for the pre-law track at Stanford.
The detective had pulled out a note book and was asking questions again, not answering her father's, "Where were you Mister Beckett? From 6 until 8 tonight?"
"Having dinner with my daughter."
"Witnesses?"
"A restaurant full of them. Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
Detective Raglan closed his note book, placing back inside his jacket pocket, every move made with exaggerated slowness, as if he was trying to stretch out the moment, to buy himself time, "I'm sorry to tell you this Mister Beckett; but your wife's body was found tonight. She'd been stabbed."
Jim let out a choked response, stumbling slightly, having to put out a hand to catch himself on a chair, "What?"
Raglan did his best to appear almost apologetic, but the tone really remained the same, he had bad news, and wanted get rid of it, "She's gone Mister Beckett. Your wife is dead."
Kate felt as if the walls had begun to close in, pressing into her; crushing her within herself. The apartment, the world, immediately seemed as if it had become a darker, more dreary place. The only thing running through Kate's mind as she felt as if everything had dimmed was a simple, desperate query: Mom is gone?
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Kate's first birthday after her mother's death found her back the cemetery, a place she had visited numerous times over the almost year-long period since the funeral.
"Hi mom."
The simple greeting pained her every time, directed as it was to a headstone rather than a woman wrapping her into her arms. The loss of her mother hurt, more than she had ever thought possible before; as if she was walking around with a gapping, bleeding hole in her chest where her heart should be.
Kate had withdrawn from Stanford almost immediately after the news of her mother's murder had sunk in; she could not face a flight across the country the day after, nor could she really expect to catch up with the class time missed in the winter quarter. More than anything though, she wanted to monitor the NYPD investigation and to stay close to home, warmed by the few memories that distance would deaden too soon.
"Raglan has given up Mom. Labeled your murder as a random mugging gone wrong, turned it into a cold case. That's just not right! You should have justice, whoever killed you Mom, they should pay; should be behind bars forever."
The decision had been hard, her dream a part of her youth, to become the first female Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Some things were more important than her dreams though, for her mother who she loved beyond compare, she was not only willing to give up that dream, but eager to replace it with a new future.
"I quit Stanford a while back Mom, I told you that already; but I know what I'm going to do now. I'm going to join the NYPD, become a cop; and as soon as I can I'm going to take up your case, to find your killer and bring him to justice. I promise you that Mom, he will not get away with it; whoever it was that did it, he'll pay."
A shifting dream within a dream spiraled around her, black silk robes morphing into the dark, midnight blue of a police officer's dress uniform. She smiled inwardly within her own recollection; sometimes old dreams needed to be replaced with new ones, built on the foundation of a loved one's needs.
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Kate was kind of dreading Christmas, it had been such an important family time for them all; and now her mom was gone and they had to face the first Christmas without her. There was no way it could possibly be enjoyable, no way any of the fun they used to have together could possibly still be retained.
Her dad had started drinking not long after her mother's death, drinking more as time passed; a slow slide into something she didn't know how to describe, and shouldn't be bearing the burden of after just turning 20, fresh from the loss of her other parent.
She had packed up to spend the weekend at home, leaving her dorm at NYU and heading uptown; a direction she had avoided as whiskey and bourbon had replaced coffee and Katie in her dad's thoughts. Kate simply couldn't watch as he spiraled slowly out of control.
Entering his apartment, a hesitation to even call it that when it use to be theirs in the context of mom and dad, she smelled stale air and the thin veil of bourbon burned at her nose. She found her dad slumped in a chair in the living room, a half empty bottle on the table in front of him.
"Hi honey. Mom'll be home soon okay?"
Every word was slurred, mumbled and barely understandable; and his unfocused eyes made it clear he'd not likely understand her whispered response, "No she won't dad, never again."
There was a clunk noise as the air conditioner turned on, spurring an abrupt cry from her father, "Johanna! Johanna! Katie's home. Come give her a hug."
Kate could feel the tears start to flow as she began to clear up the mess, to try and turn the apartment back to some semblance of a home. She'd do anything to have her mom back, anything now to have her dad back too; she just wanted those she loved to be safe and whole.
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Knowing Christmas would never get easier, and experiencing the decline into despair that it had become were two very different things. Kate had brought take-out over this Christmas eve, knowing it was unlikely the kitchen would be in any kind of usable condition.
She found him in the same place she had so often before, slumped in a chair in the den, another half empty bottle of scotch on the table in front of him; it was barely noon and he'd probably only been awake a couple of hours so he certainly seemed to be making headway today.
As she slipped into the kitchen to drop off the food she saw the normal tale: bottles everywhere and unwashed dishes piled high. Nothing to be done about that right now, she stepped out into the den. Her dad actually greeted her with a smile for once, a sight that actually warmed her heart a touch, before sending it crashing back to the lowest pits, "Johanna! You're home!"
He pushed himself to his feet a lurched towards her, arms opening to pull her in, mouth opening like he was going to kiss her. Kate put her arms up, pushed him forcefully away; sending the both of them stumbling apart. She managed to catch her balance, but her dad fell, bounced off of the chair and landed in an uncoordinated heap.
Checking on him he seemed none the worse for wear, and relief flooded her as he simply began to snore; she turned him face down, concerned for his safety even as her heart was beating a ridiculous cadence in her chest.
Stepping back up and away from her father Kate felt her heart breaking, she was losing another parent, another loved one. She pulled her bag into her hands and curled herself up into a tight ball in the over-stuffed chair furthest from where her father lay on the floor. She couldn't leave yet, needed to watch over him at least for a while.
Kate reached into her bag, pulling out one of her favorite books; it had helped her weather the dark storms that had enveloped her since her mom was taken. Her mother had loved these books too, all the mysteries by Richard Castle; had encouraged her to read them. She never had though, until her mom was gone, when the books were a tangible way of holding her mother in her hands once again. Reading his novels granted her a sense of peace, that justice would always eventually prevail no matter how dark things seemed in the interim. She cracked the spine and lost herself once more in the hope threaded throughout 'Flowers for Your Grave'.
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Kate walked slowly down the corridor towards her dad' s apartment; the second anniversary of her mother's death weighing on her. She knew what she would find within the apartment, her dad too deep into a bottle, perhaps lost to her for hours, or increasingly, for days.
On entering, her nose was assaulted not just by the smell of musty air and alcohol, but also by the acrid stench of bile. Rushing through the apartment she found him, face down thank God, in a pool of his own vomit in the middle of the kitchen. Quickly she knelt, careless of the sticky, stinky mess that immediately started soaking into the knees of her pants. He had a pulse, he was breathing; he was alive, if such as he endured and put those around him through on a daily basis could be called living.
She shook his shoulder. Finding no reaction at first, she became more vigorous, then more again. Feeling her face crumpling and tears beginning to flow, she cried out "Dad! Wake up, Dad!"
Kate wasn't sure how long it went on, her motions becoming more and more desperate, she was reaching for her phone to call 911 when his eyes fluttered open.
Those eyes she loved stared right through her, a completely glazed look. Her dad was mumbling at her, or at the person he saw in front of him. "Who are you? Where's Katie? Little Katie? Where is she?"
His glassed-over, staring eyes, saw her; but they contained no recognition at all.
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As the cab pulled to a stop Kate immediately thrust cash through the partition, in no mood to wait, and turned to her dad, "We're here."
"I don't need this Katie, I'll be okay, just give me some more time."
He was resisting her pull as she dragged him from the cab; but she was not taking no for an answer. "I gave you time Dad, too much time; I should never have waited this long."
Kate felt a little of the weight she carried lift from her shoulders as she pulled her dad forward, and finally through the doors ahead. She'd done it, brought her dad to the Phoenix House Rehab Center. Even when he forgot her, didn't recognized her, he was still hers; was still her dad. He was going to come back, to be himself again; she'd make sure of that, knew she owed it to herself as much as her dad. She loved him, needed him, couldn't live without him; even if she had to fight him, she'd get him back.
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"Probationary Police Officer Katherine Beckett."
The loud speaker at the NYPD Academy graduation had the tinny, cheap sound she'd always expected of small high schools rather than major city events, but budgets were budgets she thought as she crossed the stage and collected her diploma. Another year as a probationary officer, the next eight weeks with a training officer and then her real work could begin: reaching detective and solving her mother's murder.
As she descended the steps on the far side of the stage, she saw her father waiting off towards the seating area. Kate hadn't been sure he'd make it, he'd been sober a year now; that just meant he had to work, law once again providing him with an outlet.
As Kate reached him she was pulled into a bone crushing hug as he spoke, "I am proud of what you are doing Katie; you will make a great police officer and detective one day."
Finally releasing her from the crushing embrace, Jim pushed her back slowly with a firm grip of both shoulders; there were tears in his eyes and Kate could feel her own start to prickle in sympathy.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, passing it slowly to her. "Katie, I want you to have this now. Wear it and remember the life you saved."
Kate cracked open the box and saw her dad's watch, newly cleaned and polished. "Dad, you don't have to give me this. Honestly, it's your favorite."
"I do Katie, I need to give it to you; nothing can make up for the mess I made, for the wreck I turned my life into, and dragged yours through as a result; all while you were hurting too. But Katie, you saved me, pulled me back from the edge when I'd lost track of who I was, couldn't remember my own name, my own daughter. Inside Katie, deep inside I never forgot; but it got lost in the daze and you were the only one who could show me the way back to myself. You never gave up, kept fighting for me."
"Dad..."
Jim smiled again, a tear tracking down his cheek as he pulled her into his embrace once again, whispering lovingly into her ear, "Just like what you're doing here Katie, you've always fought for us. For you mom, for me; never quit Katie, always fight for the ones you love."
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Kate woke abruptly from her dream state, body cantilevering together as she drew her knees to her chest where she sat on the sofa. Her head was pounding, eyes gritty, her mouth felt scorched and ashen, and her breathing was elevated. It had been a long time since she'd had a hangover like this she realized, a long time since she'd had those dreams too.
Standing, she carried the now half-empty tequila bottle over to her kitchen sink and up-ended the remnants. Watching as the pale gold liquid sloshed and spiraled down her drain, last night's mistake so quickly disposed of; she wished her others would be so easily understood and fixed.
Kate's dreams had evolved over her lifespan, as they are wont to do for anyone; her reasons were different than most though, she could acknowledge that. From dreaming of law and the Supreme Court, to the Police Academy and solving her mother's case; giving up, moving on from one dream to chase another more personal one. Yet thinking back, she'd never once, never even come close to once resenting the loss of that first dream; the choices she had made. Her mother's case was more important to her than any dream job. Personal issues had always outweighed work in the past; as her father had said, only in hiding from the former had the second become the dominant one.
Now she had her dad back, she could remember the ache of him slipping slowly away with a relatively clear mind. Every time he had forgotten her it had crushed her heart, felt like losing her only remaining parent; that pain had stayed with her for a long time. She'd withdrawn over the lost of her mother, but also over the perception of being abandoned; left her dad to wallow in the bottom of a bottle far longer than she should. Eventually though she hadn't been able to accept her own initial inactions; she shouldn't have had to deal with it but that didn't alter the facts: she was the only one who could pull her father from the brink. Leave him to drink himself into oblivion or a early death; that or step up and make things right, even if he didn't remember who she was at the time. She fought for him, helped him rebuild his life; and ultimately got a parent, a loved one back.
The situation with Rick was different; she wasn't the only source of help or support for him. No matter her choices he'd have Alexis, Martha; they'd never leave him. It wouldn't be enough though, she knew that deep down; they'd support him but they had done so in the years before she had met him too. He had changed while she knew him, become a different man, more focused somehow, but lost none of his childlikeness; and maybe she was the only one who could bring that new part of him back. If she wanted him to have that, to be truly whole again, she had to fight to set it free; just as she'd fought to free her father form the lure of alcohol.
Kate watched the last of the tequila trickle down the drain as the final realization sank in. She'd made mistakes, big ones; lost track of the things that had always been important to her in the past. She'd always been a fighter, for justice, for those without a voice, and most of all, for those she loved.
Dammit! Kate threw up her hands and slammed them down in frustration, she'd made such a mess of things; let go of who she really was. Unfortunately, she hadn't let go of the tequila bottle as she realized with the crashing sound of it breaking into shards in her sink. The pain instant, a large piece of glass sticking into her hand, blood beginning to ooze from the wound around it and drop slowly into the sink.
She quickly pulled the glass out of her hand, wrapped it tightly, and applied pressure while reaching for her phone. Her head was still throbbing, now her hand too; the sound of her pulse ringing in her own ears.
The answering voice was soft, struggling against the appeal of sleep still, "Kate. You know it's 5 right? I'm not on call today."
Neither was Kate, for which she would be eternally grateful, no chance of a body interrupting what she had to do today, "I know, it's not about work... Can you come over? Bring your medical bag. I made a mess Lanie. I need your help."