in this chapter, we delve a little bit more into my psyche, and a little bit more into my personal fantasy land. i would like to dedicate this chapter to my dad, who's 51st birthday is today (12/12/12). he is my rock - he is the first person i came out to - and my best friend. i can't imagine a stronger bond than that of a father and his daughter. happy birthday, dadE.

nothing you recognize belongs to me, etc., etc.

this week's playlist, aka the soundtrack of tears:

1. under pressure - david bowie and queen
2. cough syrup - young the giant
3. falling awake - gary jules
4. help! - the beatles
5. the sun - mirah
6. we're all in this together - ben lee
7. can't help falling in love - ingrid michaelson

isobaric /isoˈbarɪk/ adj. 1) a thermodynamic process in which the pressure remains constant.

Beckett, Castle, Esposito, and Ryan had worked their absolute hardest to find out any information they could about Brian Wright and, as they discovered, his stepdaughter - Emmeline Frances Harris, whom they knew as Charlie. Everything Charlie had said was pretty much what they found. They found the newspaper article detailing Frances Finch's supposed suicide, Brian Wright's disappearance, and Charlie's subsequent exit.

They found Charlie's Amber Alert, which didn't really provide useful information because the two people who could have given it were unavailable for comment. There was no obituary in the paper for Fran, but there was for Charlie's father, Ben, and her twin brothers, Drew and Topher. There was a picture of the five of them, probably taken on a vacation to the beach when Charlie was about seven. She was wearing a pink swimsuit with watermelons all over it, flip flops with big pink daisies, and a pair of pink, glittery, heart-shaped sunglasses that covered not only her eyes, but most of her forehead and cheeks as well. She had a big grin on her face, and her tongue poked through where her two front teeth were missing. Each of her brothers (Beckett had only met them once, and so had no idea which was which) had an arm around her shoulder, and they wore matching Hawaiian-print trunks (one red, one blue). Their parents stood behind Charlie, and the other four members of the family matched Charlie's smile inch for inch.

Beckett wanted to make Charlie smile like that again. She felt her heart pang as she thought of how her daughter walked out of the precinct.

Charlie finished telling her tale, and Beckett promised her that they'd find Brian. She sent Espo and Ryan off to do some preliminary research, and she and Castle stood towering over the sitting Charlie, who looked even smaller now post-release.

"You said he...hurt you, Charlie?" Beckett asked, out of the blue. The foul possibilities were looping through her mind, and she needed to know, if only to make them stop.

A dark look clouded Charlie's deep blue eyes. "I don't like talking about it."

"But...any information we can get will make it easier to land charges on this dirtbag," Beckett tried. Castle bit back a small grin at the fact that Beckett used a term other than "criminal" to describe Brian Wright.

"I don't like talking about it," Charlie repeated, a harder edge to her voice.

"Charlie, please. We need to kn-"

"You don't need anything!" Charlie yelled. She stood up, and Beckett realized that if she hadn't been in heels, they'd be nearly equal in terms of height. "You don't get to have a say in whether or not I share my personal and private information with you! You can't subpoena my feelings - you don't have a warrant to search my brain! This is my life, and my story, and I'm not ready or willing to tell it, especially not to you! Who the hell do you think you are?"

Beckett was completely flabbergasted. 'Your mother!' she wanted to shout. But her tongue was frozen. Charlie looked up at her, complete disgust boiling in her eyes. She allowed a single sniff of despair, and then grabbed her satchel and stalked to the stairs. She didn't even want to wait for the elevator.

That had been three weeks ago. Every day when Beckett walked into the 12th, she hoped to see a little brown backpack and a faded army jacket slung across her desk. But every day brought disappointment, and another little crack in her already-fragile heart.

"Beckett! I'd like to see you in my office, please," Roy Montgomery said to her, one morning in early June.

"Yes, sir," she answered softly, following the Captain into his suite.

"Have a seat." She obediently dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Kate, I'm worried about you."

"Sir, I-" Beckett started, trying to head this off at the pass.

"Let me finish. You've been working yourself to the bone on these cases, and I don't think it's healthy for you. This didn't seem to be like a case that was particularly personal to you, so I let you stay on, thinking some of your crazed passion would subside and you'd be able to unwind a little. But when that didn't happen, I called your friend at the morgue, Dr. Parrish."

"Sir?"

Montgomery gave her a look, and she quieted back down. "Katie, why didn't you tell me about Charlie?"

Beckett looked at her lap. "Because I was embarrassed."

"Of having a child as a teenager?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you think I would judge you?"

Beckett stared up at the man she looked to as a second father. "Well, no, sir, but...I guess I just felt better pretending it never happened. It hurt less."

"And what about now? How does it feel pretending it never happened with her standing right there?"

Beckett let a tear roll slowly down her cheek. "Awful, Roy."

She fidgeted with her hands in her lap as Montgomery stood in silence before her. "I'm sending you home, Beckett."

"But sir, I-"

"You can come back tomorrow," he cut her off. "You're still lead on this case, and there's no one I trust to solve it more than you. But you're taking today off. See where your heart takes you."

Beckett gave him a small smile. "Yes, sir."

"See you tomorrow, Beckett."

Though Charlie was no longer enrolled in a school (having lied and said that she'd already recieved her GED), her new friend Marie still attended her old school. They had about two weeks left, and Marie was struggling with her final Algebra assignment before their exams.

"Charlie, do you know how to graph functions?"

Charlie nodded. "Sure. That was a couple years ago, but I think I can drag up some knowledge. Need some help?"

"Definitely!"

Charlie patted a spot next to her on her bed, covered in the rag quilt that Lucy had made her. Now, the thought of Lucy made her smile sadly, not burst into tears. She thought it was good progress.

Marie came to sit next to her, notebook in hand. They worked together on figuring the equation of the graph, and then Charlie let Marie graph it herself.

"See, that wasn't so bad!"

Marie stuck out her tongue. "Yes, it was."

"Aw, let's try another."

Charlie led Marie a little, but mostly tried to give her the basics and let her figure the rest on her own. As Marie bent her head to intensely scribble something down, Charlie caught a waft of an amazing, tropical scent. She tried to sniff the air inconspicuously, searching for the source of the smell. Then Marie flipped her hair out of her face, and the scent hit Charlie full force.

Charlie scooted closer to Marie, delicately sniffing her coconut and mango shampoo. "Your hair smells so good," she whispered.

Marie looked at her, green eyes wide. "Thanks." She dipped her head into Charlie's neck, and Charlie froze. "Yours smells nice too."

Charlie felt a blush color the bridge of her nose and she couldn't fight her grin. "Marie?"

"Yeah?"

Charlie was dazed by her stare, and mutely shook her head. "Never mind," she said, once she regained her voice.

Marie giggled. "Okay, crazy." She tucked a lock of light brown hair behind her left ear, and Charlie gasped.

Charlie had felt a small tug towards women for as long as she could remember. She used to make up boys to "crush" on when she and her friends would play Truth or Dare at slumber parties. But when Brian had come into her life, she became utterly confused. Did she not want it because it was Brian, or did she not want it at all?

He started with hitting, and hitting she could take. Then he made her show him hers, and then he'd show her his. She called his 'it' "gross," once. She never called 'it' anything again. One day, her former best friend invited her for a sleepover. She had two fathers. Brian flat-out refused, saying innumerable awful things about their family and their way of life. Fran, Charlie's mom, had tried to stand up to him, but got beaten down for it.

Brian spent the rest of their "time" together trying to force the gay out of Charlie. He didn't even know for sure how she felt, but he thought that if he forced her hand long enough, she'd start to get accustomed to it.

"Charlie? Where'd you go? Are you okay?" Marie gently stroked Charlie's flushed cheek, and rubbed her goosebumped arms.

"Marie..."

"Yes?"

"Marie." Charlie said her name again, but this time when she turned to face Marie, she didn't waver. "I think I love you."

'Brian isn't here, Emmie. You're here, and she's here. It's okay.' The voice in Charlie's head, the braver, more confident, former self that still lived within her, told her to let go. Charlie moved in closer, cupping Marie's right cheek in her left hand. She wove her right fingers through Marie's hair and tugged, making their mouths meet. Charlie felt a tongue tap on her teeth, and she opened her mouth to get closer to Marie. Her toes curled in her socks, and Marie made a fist in her t-shirt.

But when they pulled back to catch their breath, Marie's eyes were scared. "What's wrong?"

"You are! Th-this is," Marie said, looking angry, but starting to cry. "You're disgusting."

"Marie, wait!" Charlie called brokenly after her, but she walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her. She couldn't move. Her legs were jelly, and her lungs were constricted. She was having a panic attack.

Charlie didn't know how long she sat on her bed, staring at her hands flex and trying to regulate her breathing, but it seemed like Marie had just left when she and the head matron, Sister McClure, came barging in.

"Charlotte," she barked. Charlie glanced up, eyes blank and droopy. Behind her, a nervous-looking Marie was shifting her weight from foot to foot. "A word, in my office. Now."

Charlie slid her feet slowly into her boots, and, inch by inch, followed the two women down the hall and stairs, ending up in a cramped room adjacent to the vestibule.

"Take a seat," Sr. McClure ordered. Marie and Charlie sat next to each other. "Now, Marie, tell Charlie what you've just told me. Then we'll see if she admits guilt to these allegations."

"W-well, Sister, we were just...sitting o-on her bed," Marie began quietly. "And I was trying to do my math homework, and she was supposed to be helping me."

Charlie's chest constricted again, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Then she began to get t-too close, and I asked her to back off, but she wouldn't, and-"

"You never asked that," Charlie said calmly.

Marie looked at her, terrified, but Sr. McClure shot her a dirty look and hissed a, "Shh!" She looked at Marie and nodded for her to continue.

"Well, anyway, then she...kissed me. And it was so disgusting and I didn't want to but she kept forcing herself on me and I just couldn't take it! So I finally pushed her away from me and ran here and told you."

Charlie let out a pitiful and humorless laugh. Sr. McClure looked at her sharply. "Well, Charlotte. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I won't deny that I...kissed her." She whispered the last part, throat closing thickly. She took a deep breath. "But everything else was a lie."

Sr. McClure was the one to laugh, now. "Everyone knows that homosexuals are pathological liars, Charlotte. Goodness only knows what else you've lied about."

At that statement, Charlie lowered her head. All her fibs were justified, weren't they? Maybe, she mused, it was just something else wrong about her. But the Sister wasn't quite finished, and cleared her throat loudly to direct Charlie's attention back to her.

"But, lucky for you, I am a good, Christian woman, so I will give you until the end of the day to pack up your things and leave." Charlie was dumbstruck, but Sr. McClure was finished with her now. "Marie, you may stay in here or in my room, if you like. Do you need anything from your room?"

Marie shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on her lap. Charlie forced the rising bile back down her throat, and followed Sr. McClure as she snapped, chaperoning her trip back to her room.

Charlie sat down on her bed, still mussed from where she and Marie had been sitting not too long ago. The patchwork fleece felt rough and dirty under her fingertips as she absentmindedly played with the fringe.

She closed her eyes and pictured a fortress. The walls were stone, and they were covered in moss and ivy. She stood in front of the wall closest to her, and a small notch appeared, allowing her to slip through. There were many small huts, each painted a different, vibrant color, all in a circle. In the middle of the circle was a large tower, with one small window. Charlie walked towards the tower and a rope ladder tumbled down from the window. She climbed up and in, and shut her eyes tight. She forced out the memory of the hours before, cracking her eyes slightly to watch the gauzy figures drift around the room. Then she scrambled back down the ladder and into the nearest hut, pacifying herself with a happy memory from years before, so long ago that the only thing remaining was a sense of contentment.

Charlie opened her eyes. They were clear, and she smiled faintly. She'd always been able to compartmentalize, which helped her in the short term to regain her bearings faster than most people. She taught herself how to do it when she was with Brian. When he'd hit her, or when he'd come into her bed late at night, she'd go to her citadel. It was the only place where she could lock the door and just be free.

Shaking her head, she got up to go. She dragged her dad's old green duffel from underneath her bed and began to fill it with the clothes and possessions she had that weren't already in her backpack. She took down posters and pictures from the walls and fit them into her tin.

Once she was done, she looked around the blank room in bittersweet fondness. She put on her satchel, slung her duffel across her body, and left. No one said goodbye to her as she walked into the vestibule for the last time and exited through the big, brown, double doors.

Once off the stoop, she stopped. "Where am I supposed to go?" She muttered to herself. She paused to think. Yes, she had gotten angry at Beckett, and that was why she hadn't gone to see her in weeks. But she was also scared. She was scared that Beckett did know about their...relationship, and was choosing to ignore it. She was scared that the opposite was true - that she still didn't know at all. But the thought of being out all night, completely alone, scared her more than anything. She didn't want to be alone anymore. So she shouldered her pride, and hoisted her duffel further on her back. She walked the few blocks to the bus stop and waited, getting on the next bus to the precinct.

"Dad?" Alexis called, coming downstairs to the kitchen. "What are you doing home so early?"

"Captain Montgomery sent Beckett home, so I left too. This case is rough," he said sadly.

"Why'd Kate get sent home?" Alexis asked curiously.

"This case is...pretty hard on her." Castle said mysteriously.

"Why?"

"Well...our main witness is someone very close to her."

"But I thought you said that the only person who knew anything was a teenage girl...oh my gosh, no way! Is that Beckett's-" Alexis paused, eyes wide. She had promised Beckett not to tell her dad about her daughter.

"Beckett's what?" Castle asked. "What do you know?"

"Nothing! I don't know anything!" Alexis said conspicuously, practically running to the refrigerator to get a cup of yogurt.

"If you don't tell me, I'll have to..." Castle paused ominously, creeping towards his daughter. "Tickle it out of you!"

"No! Daddy, stop!" Alexis laughed hysterically as Castle lightly dug his fingers into her sensitive ribcage. "I promised Kate I wouldn't tell!"

"Oh," he said as he stopped. "Wait, what?"

Alexis looked up into her father's confused face. She saw recognition in his eyes, and knew he knew what she knew. "When Kate and I spent Mother's Day together...she told me about something that happened when she was in high school. A big...event in her life, and someone else's..."

For as awkwardly subtle as she was being, Alexis' dad knew her well enough to correctly interpret what she was trying to say. "So you knew about her daughter, but didn't know she was the witness in our case?"

Alexis broke into a relieved grin. "Exactly."

"Her name is Charlie. She's homeless, she's alone, and she doesn't know that Beckett knows that she's...her daughter." Castle's voice was watery, as though he was trying not to cry. Alexis wrapped her arms around his waist.

"It's okay, Daddy. They'll be okay."

Castle pressed a kiss to the top of Alexis' head. "I sure hope so, pumpkin," he whispered. Castle, for the millionth time in the past seventeen years, thanked every celestial being in the universe that allowed him to have this wonderful girl in his life. "I love you, Alexis," he breathed into her hair.

"I love you too, Daddy."

Charlie got up to homicide's floor, and looked around cautiously as she exited the elevator. She didn't want to be caught off guard by Esposito or Ryan, or worse, by Beckett.

"Can I help you?" Det. Mindy Stegner came up to her.

"Um, hi. Stegner, right?" Stegner nodded, slowly remembering Charlie's face from around the precinct. "I'm looking for my- for Detective Beckett. Have you seen her?"

"No, but I can get Ryan or Esposito for you, if you like," she offered.

"Um, sure, thanks," Charlie accepted with a smile.

She put her duffel down, and stood awkwardly by the elevators while Stegner found Esposito in the breakroom.

"See you around, guys," Stegner told them, as she led Esposito to where Charlie was waiting. Charlie waved goodbye and Espo gave her a nod.

"Hey, Charlie," he said kindly. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know." She gave him a genuine smile. She'd really missed his playfulness and sense of humor. He reminded her a lot of her brother Topher. "I'm actually...I'm looking for Beckett. Is she here?"

"No, Cap sent her home. Why? Do you have any new information? Because I can-"

"No, Espo. It's, um...personal. Is there any way you can tell her I'm here, maybe get her to come see me? I need to talk to her."

Esposito paused for a minute, mulling something over in his head. "Off the record, and don't tell anyone I told you this, but go up to McCarren Park, in Williamsburg. When Beckett gets a big case or somethin' and needs a place to think, she goes to a park to swing. That's the closest park to her apartment."

Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat that was threatening to rise. They really were a lot more alike than she could have ever guessed. "Thank you, Detective," she croaked in a low voice.

"That's Uncle Javi, to you," he answered. "And don't mention it." He gave her a grin, and that's when she lost it. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and buried her face in his chest. "Hey, hey," he whispered. "It's okay, chiquita."

She pulled back and rubbed a finger underneath her nose. "See ya later," she said with an attempt at a smile, "Uncle Javi."

She picked up her duffel and walked back to the elevator. She didn't see the tear briefly glisten in the corner of Esposito's eye before he roughly brushed it away.

Beckett walked up Stanton after finishing her slice, and turned left at the corner to get to Bowery. She walked down to the mission, and wondered if she should press the buzzer and wait, or just let herself in. Manners prevailed, and she jabbed the brass button with her thumb.

She fidgeted outside for a few moments, before a nice-looking woman in plainclothes came to the front door.

"Hello, my name is Grace. How can I help you this afternoon?" She asked with a broad smile.

Beckett smiled back. "I'm looking for a girl who lives here. Charlie Harris?"

"I think she's in her room. I'll go get her for you," Grace offered. "Would you like to come in and wait?"

"Sure, thanks," Beckett accepted.

She sat in the proffered chair and looked around a bit. There was the little vestibule through which she'd come, a sitting/living room across from her with some couches, a rug, a TV, and stacks of books and videos. The hall down which Grace had gone was lined with doors, which she assumed were the rooms that Charlie and other single persons occupied. A set of stairs led to another floor with, Beckett suspected, more bedrooms. There was a large unpainted door near where she sat which Beckett thought might be an office of some kind, and beyond that, a hall perpendicular to the bedroom hall which probably led to kitchen and dining rooms.

Beckett played with her phone and swung her feet as she waited for Charlie and Grace to come back. But when Grace returned, it was solo.

"I'm so sorry, Ms..."

"Beckett. Um, Detective Beckett."

Grace's eyes widened a fraction, then she smiled again. "Again, I'm so sorry, Detective. But I can't seem to find Charlie, or her roommate, and no one knows where they might be if they weren't in their room. It's possible that they went somewhere - they're very good friends, you see, and Marie is really the only friend that Charlie's had since...well, the whole mess with Aggie Bradley and Lucy Jones, so it's possible that they went to have some fun. But you just sit tight, and I'll see if Sister McClure knows anything."

Beckett nodded her assent, and Grace knocked on the big wooden door. She was beckoned in, and Beckett was left alone again. She swung her feet for what seemed like ages before a stern looking woman with close-cropped hair and an ill-fitting wool jumper walked out of the office, followed by a cowering Grace.

"Are you the...woman who asked to see Charlotte Harris?" The woman sneered and looked down her nose at Beckett.

Beckett stood, unwilling to be intimidated by this person. "I am. And who might you be?"

The woman, almost a full head shorter than Beckett, drew herself up pompously. "I am Sister Mary Kathleen McClure, Head Matron of this mission! And I am here to inform you that Charlotte Harris is no longer able to be assisted by this fine organization," she emphasized. "So I would greatly appreciate it if you would vacate the premises, and inform any other people like you who might be looking for that miscreant to search elsewhere, and never darken our doorstep again!" With that dramatic proclamation, she stamped her cane once on the grubby linoleum and turned on her heel. As she walked back into her office, she instructed, "Grace! Show her out, if you please." Then she shut the door with a bang.

Grace looked at Beckett apologetically. "I'm very sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Beckett offered her a worried smile. "Thank you, Grace. You did your best."

Grace nodded, and ushered Beckett to the door. Pausing in the vestibule, Grace looked fearfully at the sky. "It's about to rain,"

Beckett nodded. "I think I can make it. Goodbye," she said softly.

"Goodbye."

Charlie tiredly made her way to McCarren Park. She didn't have the money for bus fare both ways, so she figured she'd expend her energy now and use the money to get...well, she wasn't quite sure where. It had taken her over an hour, because she had so much extra weight to lug around. And...

"Fuck," she cursed. "Are you serious right now?" The sky was a threatening shade of charcoal, and Charlie could hear the low rumble of thunder growing nearer, which meant that the storm was almost upon her.

As quickly as she could on her weary legs, she scampered through the park gates and into the playground area, which was quickly being vacated by nervous parents and children. Before she could even think, the clouds burst open, and it started pouring on Charlie's head and all of her belongings. She dashed to a tunnel maze not too far from the entrance, and threw her duffel in before crawling in after it. Shivering, she pulled her knees to her chest as she slid down the side of the plastic tube.

"Guess this is it for tonight, Norman," she said to her ragged-looking teddy bear, as she tugged him from her backpack. "Or at least until the storm clears."

Beckett walked back into the 12th after her disappointing venture to the mission. She needed to grab the keys for her Crown Vic so she could drive Liz home. It would be storming soon, and she'd get soaked if she rode Thumper.

"Yo, Beckett," Esposito called to her as she got out of the elevator. "You find your girl?"

Beckett furrowed her brow. "No," she said slowly. "How'd you know I was looking for her?"

Now it was Espo's turn to be confused. "Looking for her? No, she came here looking for you!"

"She was here? Where'd she go?" Beckett asked excitedly.

"Well, I figured you'd be at the park, so I told her to go up to Williamsburg."

"Williamsburg? How the hell was she gonna get there?" Beckett asked, a little angry.

Esposito held up his hands. "I didn't think that far, sorry," he apologized.

Beckett shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. What have you and Ryan been up to?"

Ryan walked over to them. "We haven't found anything to suggest that Brian Wright is in the city, or that he's been anywhere around here in the past two months."

Beckett sighed. "Well, keep looking. I'll go home, and see if Charlie's there."

Ryan patted her shoulder. "Good luck, Beckett."

"Yeah, you too."

So Beckett drove out of Manhattan and across the bridge, which was when it began to rain. It began to pour once Beckett got into Brooklyn proper, and as she rounded the corner to get to the park, her windshield wipers were turned on as fast as they could go, because the rain came down in sheets. Beckett couldn't see out her window, so she buttoned her jacket, grabbed her umbrella from the door pocket, and got out to brave the weather.

"There's no way she could be out here like this," Beckett muttered to herself. "But where else would she be?"

Beckett walked into the park, and saw no one on the swings or the playset. No one was sitting on a bench, at a table under the pavilion, or on the seesaw. She walked over past a slide-like setup when a voice distracted her.

"Can I help-" Charlie began as she crawled out of the tube. "Beckett," she breathed.

"Charlie!" Beckett had to restrain herself from running towards Charlie and gripping her to her chest. "I was so-well, I'm glad I found you. I've looked everywhere! Oh," Beckett said, suddenly noticing Charlie's appearance. "You're soaked through."

"I'm fine," Charlie said, a little standoffish-ly. She silently cursed herself for being so fragile, and ungrateful, too. "Did you need me for something?"

Beckett was a bit taken aback by Charlie's tone, but pressed on nevertheless. "Well, I just...I mean, I wanted to...Charlie, I know this is going to sound, well...I mean, I was completely shocked when I found out. I mean, not shocked, because of course I knew, but I never expected-"

Charlie knew what Beckett was trying to get at. Her gut reaction was to be cruel. She had visions of herself yelling at Beckett, asking what claim she felt like she had on Charlie and how dare she, all of a sudden, decide that she was ready to admit the truth. She was prepared to shame Beckett, to make her feel guilty for waiting around, withholding the information that Charlie had had for months - years, even.

But then, she realized that Beckett already felt guilty. She had probably wanted to tell Charlie that she knew for ages, but Charlie herself had made it impossible. There was always something that Charlie had to say first. And by that time, all of Beckett's courage had probably fled. The words had time to stick in her throat, much like they were doing now. And it was not Beckett, but Charlie, who felt ashamed. So instead, she offered relief.

"I know. I know that you know that I know what you're trying to say. But, if I may ask, why now?"

Beckett sighed, half in relief, and half in sadness. "Because I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but I was scared. You probably figured it out the first time we met - I know you, and you pick up on everything. Hell, even Castle knew after the first time we met. He said we'd known each other in another life. And, well, I was trying to find you to tell you at first because I felt guilty over the way we'd left things, and I wanted to try and make amends." Beckett looked Charlie in the eyes. "I still do...I'm sorry for pushing you, I really am. But then, when I went to the mission and they told me you didn't live there anymore, I...wanted to tell you because I thought, maybe, I could help."

Charlie's breath caught in her throat. She was petrified. "Help?"

"I thought you might need a place to stay."

"Stay?"

Beckett let out a short laugh. "Are you gonna keep repeating the last word I say?"

Charlie felt her heart go back to normal. "Say?" she questioned, but this time it was with a teasing grin.

"You need a place to stay, don't you?"

Charlie considered saying no, but then she thought of the quality of life she'd have, living in a red plastic tube, designed for children to play in. Tonight, she'd be very wet. Tomorrow, the sun would come back out and bake her dry, but would turn the tube into a sticky, static-y, hot mess. And there would be kids shrieking and running all around her, parents and nannies judging her, bugs and elements attacking her...she couldn't live like that. "Yes," she answered softly.

"Well, I may not have a whole room for you, but I've got a pretty darn comfy couch, and a roof, and central heating," Beckett tried to entice. "And maybe I don't feel like I'm allowed to be your mother just yet, but I'd certainly love your permission to be your somebody."

"Do you have a dryer?" Charlie asked, after a moment of pause.

Beckett laughed. "If I say yes, will you?"

Charlie smiled. "Yes. I say yes."

Beckett dropped her umbrella, then, and hugged Charlie to her chest. "Oh, baby," she murmured. The rain continued to soak Charlie, and between hugging Charlie and being in the storm with no umbrella, Beckett was beginning to get pretty drowned herself. "C'mon," she said at last, picking up her neglected cover. "Let's go home."

Beckett dropped her arms, but picked up Charlie's hand to keep contact. The umbrella hung lamely at her side, because she saw no real point in holding it back up when she was already soaked to the skin. They slogged to Beckett's car, and Beckett unlocked the door for Charlie before swinging around to the other side and hopping in herself.

"You buckled?" She asked awkwardly.

Charlie just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and Beckett gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"Yeah, I know. Me too. I mean...I had a mom for fourteen years..."

"Yeah, I know." Beckett mimicked. "They were...really nice, when I knew them."

Charlie looked over at Beckett. "Will you tell me about them? Before me, I mean."

Beckett flashed her a quick smile as she maneuvered out from between two SUVs. "Sure. I was...well, I was fifteen, when I got pregnant. And it wasn't until my...fifth or sixth month that I got really serious about adoption."

"You were gonna keep me?"

Charlie noticed that Beckett's expression grew tight. "Honestly?" Beckett questioned her.

"Honestly," Charlie affirmed.

"I wasn't gonna do anything. I mean...naively, I thought maybe it was all a bad dream. But my mom...when we were able to feel you, she started to push me. My parents kind of just left me to my own devices for a while, but my mom told me I needed to start thinking about both of us, and not just me."

"And that's when you found my parents?"

Beckett gave a short laugh. "That's when I found the agency. There were many, many families my mom and I interviewed before we met your parents. And I saw many families after I met them, because Mom wanted me to make an informed decision. But when I met Fran and Ben, I just...knew. They brought the boys in, and I saw the way the four of them acted together."

"You met my brothers?" Charlie asked in a weak voice.

Beckett stretched an arm across the console and rested her hand on Charlie's thigh. "Yeah," she said softly. "They were about four or five, I guess, and they were as sweet as can be. One of them, I think it was Andrew, wanted to feel 'his little sister' kick in my stomach."

"That sounds like Drew," Charlie agreed. "He was more protective of me. He treated me like a doll. Topher always played with me, but Drew wanted to keep me safe."

Beckett didn't know how to answer that. "Your parents told me that when your older brothers were born, they thought that their family was complete. But one night, your mom had a dream, and in the dream, the twins were playing with a little blue-eyed girl named Emmie. But your mom couldn't have any more children, so they started looking into adoption."

"She had a hysterectomy. Mama did, I mean. She was really sick, and that was the only way to fix her. So that's why she couldn't get pregnant again."

"When did they tell you you were adopted?" Beckett asked suddenly.

"I think I've always known," Charlie said, after a moment of thought. "I mean, your picture hung above my crib, and then my bed, in my room. My old room," she clarified. "I have it with me, now. I thought maybe I'd find you, when I...left."

"You looked for me?" Beckett asked in surprise.

Charlie sighed. "Not exactly. See, I only had your picture, and your first name. Mama and Daddy said they'd give me your name when I was ready to look for you...but I never got the chance to ask. The only reason I had 'Katie' was because that's what it said on the back of the picture. 'Katie and friends, 1995'. And I knew you were from New York City...I guess I thought maybe you still lived there."

"Well, you guessed right!" Beckett said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it alright if I don't call you Mom?" Charlie looked up at her pensively.

"Oh, Charlie," Beckett sighed, as she pulled into her parking garage. "Of course it is! That's something you control, not me, and if you're not ready..." 'Much as I might like you to be...' "that is completely your call. You know what I would like, though?"

"What?"

"If you'd call me Kate. Beckett is a work thing. My family calls me Kate." Beckett gave her a small smile.

"Okay. Kate," Charlie said, rolling the name around in her mouth. "I like it."

"Me, too."

Kate helped Charlie with her bags, and they employed a little police trick to get to the fifth floor as fast as possible. The elevator took them straight to their floor, and Kate let them both into Apartment 17.

"So, this is it," she said as she led Charlie in. Bathroom's on the right, there, and on your left is the closet where you hang your coat and stuff. There's also the sheets we'll use to make up your bed, and some extra towels and things. Then, through here," she said, passing through the glass double doors, "is the kitchen on the right, the living room in front of you, and the dining room on the left."

"What's behind the dining room?" Charlie asked, motioning to the area behind the bookshelves.

"Oh, that's my office. You're welcome to go in there and use the computer if you want," Kate said nervously.

"But don't look at anything else?" Charlie asked on a guess.

Kate smiled sheepishly. "If you wouldn't mind? I just don't want you to be scarred or anything," she said, thinking of her makeshift murder board.

"Oh, do you keep your porn in there or something?" Charlie asked, unfazed. "Don't worry, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Charlie!" Kate scolded.

"Scout's honor, I won't peek," Charlie swore.

Kate rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Anyway, behind the table is the door to my bedroom. If you need anything, you come get me. Understand?" She asked seriously.

"Aye aye, Cap'n," Charlie quipped.

"Alright. Why don't you lay out some PJs and have them warm by the fire, and I'll take the rest of your stuff and run it through the dryer while you shower. Then we'll talk about what to do for dinner. Sound good?"

"Sounds great, I'm starved," Charlie answered. Kate didn't even wanna think about the last time she'd eaten, so she told Charlie to pick out her comfy clothes and then get changed in the bathroom so she could dry the clothes Charlie had on.

Charlie dug a pair of pants, some socks, and an old t-shirt out of her duffel, and laid them in front of the pot-bellied stove to dry.

"Wait, where are your pajamas?" Kate questioned.

"I don't really have any," Charlie answered.

"But...what do you sleep in?"

Charlie blushed a bit. "Normally? My underwear. But I didn't think that would be appropriate, so..."

Kate shook her head. "You'll borrow a pair of mine. You can sleep in whatever you want, but you cannot lounge in a pair of skinny jeans. I won't allow it!" She said in a mock-stern voice.

Charlie giggled. "Okay, whatever you say," she placated.

Kate disappeared into her bedroom, and came back a few moments later with a light blue long-sleeve thermal and a soft-looking pair of pink pinstripe drawstring pants. "These might be a little big on you, but I hardly wear them, so you can keep them if you like." Kate started planning a little shopping trip in their future.

"Kate, you don't-"

"Charlie, take the clothes," Kate demanded.

"But-," Charlie whined. At Kate's look, she reconsidered. "Oh-kay," she sighed.

Kate laughed, and after a moment of pouting, Charlie laughed along with her.

"Okay, kid, get in that shower! We can't have you getting sick, can we?"

Charlie grinned, stripped off her 'BITE ME' shirt and skinny jeans, and handed them and her duffel to Kate. Kate was a little shocked at first, but figured Charlie's brashness was harmless, so she shrugged and went down the hall to the floor's laundry room.

In the bathroom, Charlie unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Then she peeled off her underwear and gave it the same treatment. She marveled at the coolness of Kate's bathroom - a sleek, white, rectangular tub, surrounded by charcoal gray subway tile. The tub/shower had a frosted glass enclosure, and there was a Moroccan-inspired gray mosaic inset into glass wainscoting on the walls above the tub. Stainless steel baskets hid toiletries and other bathroom supplies under the white porcelain pedestal sink, and the floor was a white hexagonal mosaic. Charlie sunk her feet into the gray memory foam bathmat while she waited for the shower to heat up.

Charlie reveled in having as much shampoo, conditioner, and hot water as she wanted. She hadn't used body wash or a powder puff in months, and she hadn't been able to sing in the shower for what felt like forever. She was in the middle of the chorus of "Help!" when she heard a knock on the door.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Just wanted to let you know that your clothes are pretty much dry out here, whenever you're ready."

"Okay, thanks!" Charlie felt awkward about being caught singing, so she immediately started to rinse the conditioner out of her hair and finish up her shower.

Kate, for her part, felt awkward about interrupting her, but thought that pretending like she didn't hear her at all might make up for it.

Charlie came out of the bathroom about five minutes later, wrapped in a towel, and grabbed her clothes to take back to the bathroom.

"I was thinking about Chinese for dinner. Is that okay with you?" Kate asked, before Charlie had a chance to scamper away.

"Um, yeah," Charlie said.

"What do you like?"

"Whatever. Just, not too spicy, and no-"

"Almonds," Kate finished with a smile. "I remembered."

Charlie smiled back. "Good. Because almonds and me are a bad combo."

"Got it. I'll order while you get dressed, and then you can just chill while I shower. And then we can set up your bed and stuff."

"Sure," Charlie said. "Kate, um...than-"

"Do not," Kate said, "thank me. I should've done this a long time ago."

Charlie opened her mouth to counter, but Kate snapped her hand shut.

"Go change," she ordered. Charlie nodded and went back to the bathroom.

Kate had finished ordering the food by the time Charlie came back out, and Kate thought she finally looked her age. The waffle-knit shirt extended past her fingertips, and the cuffed flannel pants were slung precariously low on her hips. Her still-wet curls were tied up in a topknot, and her right hand was fisted in the sleeve of her shirt while her left fingers were fiddling with the drawstring on her pants.

"So, what do you need me to do?" Charlie asked, a bit subdued.

"Just chill. You're welcome to read any of the books on the shelves," Kate offered. "Or you can go on the computer. I don't have a TV, but if you'd like, I'll look into getting one."

"Oh, you don't have to do anything for-"

"Charlie," Kate said in a warning tone. "I'm not gonna say it again. Anyway, I've been meaning to cave for a while. Sometimes, you just wanna fall asleep to a movie or somethin'."

"Okay. I'll probably find a good book. Maybe one of Castle's?" Charlie said, with a teasing grin. "I have it on good authority that you're somewhat of an expert on his books. Maybe I'll read Heat Wave," she said.

Kate blushed. "How about you start with something a little tamer, hmm? I've got some old Peoples lying around somewhere," she said.

Charlie laughed. "If that's what you think is tame, I can't wait to see what you think is wild!"

Kate grinned. "I'm gonna shower, but I'll be done soon."

Charlie nodded, and went over to the couch with her backpack. She pulled out Norman and her tin of mementos. The semi-faded picture on top was the one she pulled out. Inscribed on the back in neat, blue script was Katie and friends, 1995.

Charlie flipped the photo over. "Looks like I found you," she whispered. "I did it."

The night was spent setting up the sofa bed, eating Chinese food, and getting to know each other's likes and dislikes. Kate had to go to work in the morning, so she let Charlie sleep in as she carefully crept around the apartment, trying to make as little noise as possible. She left Charlie a note saying where she went, how she could be reached, and granting awkward permission to go wherever she wished as long as she called or left a note.

When Kate walked into the precinct, Castle was there to greet her.

"Morning, Beckett," he said in a chipper voice.

She smiled fondly at him. "Good morning," she answered in kind, gratefully accepted his proffered coffee.

"So, what's the sitch?" At Kate's raised brow, he continued. "The haps, the DL, the LD, the four-one-wah-"

"Don't," she started, holding up an open hand. "Even. I do not know what is causing you to talk like some teenager from the '90s, but it has got to stop."

He pouted, as he was wont to do when Kate didn't give him his way. "I just wanted to know what you did yesterday. You know, after Captain Montgomery kicked you out."

Kate nearly stuck out her tongue at him. "First of all, he did not kick me out! He...gave me the rest of the day off. And second, why would I tell you? After being so rude to me," she joked.

"Oh, your magnificent effervescence, please accept my most humble apology," Castle begged, kneeling in front of her and clasping her hand in both of his.

Playing along, she daintily but disgustedly shook her hand loose and discreetly wiped it on her pants. "You are forgiven, peasant," she said in the most regal voice she could muster. Then, in her normal voice, she said, "Get up, you're getting your nice jeans all dusty."

Her heart was swelling with affection for her boyish sidekick. He knew just how to push all her buttons, but he also knew exactly when to make her laugh and when to sympathize; he knew every aspect of her past and her present, and when she really thought about, he featured heavily into her future.

She stretched out a hand to help him up, and he groaned as his joints creaked from the unfamiliar position. "Gettin' old?" She teased.

"Never," he vowed.

"Okay, Pan, let's get to work."

Kate wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject of Charlie with Castle, and their new living situation. On the one hand, it was pretty simple because he already knew the hardest part. On the other, she really liked him, and didn't want the fact that she had a daughter living with her further complicated their already immensely tangled relationship. On the other hand, he too had a teenaged daughter at home. On the other hand, Alexis was a known commodity when this whole thing began, and Charlie was brand new. On the other hand-

"Beckett! Earth to Beckett, paging Dr. Beckett," Castle quipped, waving a hand over Kate's eyes. "You still in there?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Fine." Kate answered, a bit dazedly.

Castle shrugged his shoulders and went back to flipping through files of child abuse reports.

"Castle?" Kate asked, after heavily weighing her options. Her conversation with Alexis was still fresh in her mind, and she had no doubts that Alexis' fencing training made her a fair opponent.

"What's up?" He asked absentmindedly. He was concentrating on a picture of a little boy with cigarette burns on his back.

"Castle," she said again, a little more urgency in her voice. She didn't want him to be looking at these pictures when they had this talk.

He noticed the change in tone, closed the folder, and turned to face her. "I'm listening," he said patiently.

"Yesterday, when I left, I went to go find Charlie."

"I assumed as much," Castle said nonchalantly. "I mean, Roy was obviously talking to you about our case, and then he sent you home. We figured you'd been kicked off, but when Ryan asked who the new lead was, he said you were still point."

Kate nodded. "Right. So I went to the mission to find her, but apparently she's been kicked out. And when she was, she came here looking for me, but I wasn't here. So-"

"She's living with you," Castle hypothesized. "Good for you, Beckett!" He said proudly.

"You're...okay with that?" 'Way to go, Beckett. You're not in a relationship with him! What should he care?' "I mean, you think that's a good idea?"

Castle nodded. "I definitely do. I mean, if anything happened to me and Mother, I certainly would prefer Alexis living with Meredith than out on the street, much as it pains me to say so. And given that you haven't even had the limited contact with her that Meredith has with Alexis, I think it's good that you're in a position to dive right into a relationship."

Kate bit her lip. "But do you think it's okay that I...I'm not ready to be her mom," she whispered.

Castle sat back in his chair, and looked seriously at Kate. "I think that at this point, she hasn't done anything to warrant you laying down the law. I do think that you need to establish some ground rules, just, you know, house etiquette, and things like that. But, if worse comes to worse, you're going to need to deal with it. Because eventually we're going to catch this creep. And you're going to have to catch her when she falls. Or you're going to have to give her up again."

"And if I...catch her," Kate said slowly. "I've never been a parent before. Will you help me?"

Castle smiled broadly, and put his hand on top of hers. "Always."

"Hey, Charlie, are you almost packed?" Kate called from her bedroom.

"Yeah, almost! I can't find that new dress, though, have you seen it?" Charlie yelled back.

"I think I washed it with my stuff - I'll see if it's in my pile," Kate said. She rifled through a stack of printed cotton, and then pulled a sherbet-toned colorblock maxi from the pile. "Found it!"

"Awesome, thanks," Charlie said as she wandered into the room. Kate's bag was spread out on the bed, as were most of her clothes. The only things remaining in the dresser and armoire were chunky sweaters and a pair of sweatpants.

Castle had extended the invitation to Kate (and Charlie) once again to spend the rest of the summer at the Castle house in the Hamptons. After consulting Charlie, and heavily deliberating the matter, Kate accepted. Which is why the Beckett-Harris apartment was in such disarray. Correction: Kate's bedroom was in such disarray. Charlie was practically finished packing, while Kate's suitcase was filled only with, as of yet, four purple swimsuits and a vaguely-Asian floral printed beach kaftan.

"Kate, Castle and Alexis are picking us up in, like, half an hour." Charlie reminded her mother as she gnawed on a baby carrot. "Chop chop in here."

Kate sighed dramatically, throwing Charlie a dirty look. "I'm doing the best that I can!"

Charlie raised her eyebrows. "So far, you've packed stuff for the beach. You need town stuff, dinner stuff, and workout stuff. What's the holdup?"

Kate eyed her suspiciously. "Promise you won't tell Castle?"

Charlie gave her the Bambi eyes. "Who, me?"

"Yeah, right," Kate answered, rolling her eyes. "Forget it."

Charlie put on a calculating expression. "You like him, don't you? Oh, you like him! Oh my gosh!" She squealed.

"Keep your voice down!" Kate admonished.

"Does anyone know?"

"Everyone knows, apparently," Kate muttered.

Charlie pouted. "How come I didn't know?"

Kate shrugged. "How does anyone know?"

Charlie shrugged. "Okay, so you're nervous about what you wear. But you see him every day. It's never taken you this long to get ready for work," she said.

"Yeah, but that's work. It's not like I have many options. But this is us, time-off us. And, I don't know...it's like dating a boy you go to private school with and then having an out-of-school date with him. He's never seen my personality clothes, unless you count LA!"

"Well, what do you want your personality clothes to represent about you?" Charlie asked diplomatically.

"That I'm fun, but not, like, Girls-Gone-Wild, and that I do, in fact, know how to relax."

Charlie nodded. "Okay, so your town clothes are like, jeans and cute tops. Like when we went shopping," Charlie directed. Beckett grabbed a few pairs of her favorite skinnies and a handful of blousy tanks and candy-colored tees. "Your dinner clothes are semi-nice, so like, maybe some casual dresses, and a few skirts and tops that you can mix and match." Kate grabbed a couple of dresses, including the one she'd worn to brunch with Alexis, and two skirts and three blouses. "And then workout clothes are workout clothes, but not those nasty cop shirts with all the holes and pit stains or those hideous knicker-things. Take your new trainers, some leggings, and some of your bright racerbacks."

Kate gazed at her suitcase in awe. "How did you do that?"

"Careful observation of your habits," Charlie said easily. "Also, I inventoried your closet a couple days ago when you were at work, and made note of what I've seen you in and what I haven't. Those are all clothes you wear. Most of the rest, you haven't touched in months, if ever. Maybe you should consider donating them," she suggested.

"That's a great idea, Charlie," Kate answered with a kiss to the crown of Charlie's head. "We'll do that when we get back."

Charlie smiled. "For shoes, take those espadrille wedges, some flip flops, and a nice pair of flat sandals. I'm gonna pack this dress, and then I'll be ready to go."

She left Kate to her own devices and went back to the couch. Castle had asked them to come to the Hamptons about a week after Charlie had moved in, and at first Kate was worried that it would throw her off. But Castle said they didn't leave until the end of the month, which would give Charlie time to settle in more, and give Kate time to think it over. Kate couldn't keep the secret for more than a week, and Charlie was thrilled about the idea, or so she said.

She was very perceptive, and knew that, even under Kate's obvious anxiety, she really wanted to go. And Charlie felt like she had inconvenienced Kate enough, without making her stay in the city instead of take a vacation. She was nervous about meeting Alexis for the first time, but she'd done harder things. She could suck this up too.

It didn't hurt (much) that Kate felt an intense desire to purchase her everything she could possibly need for the beach and then some. Charlie felt a little guilty that Kate was spending so much money on her, but she hadn't been really shopping in so long that the niceness of it all glossed over a bit of that.

They got the dress, a cover-up outfit (consisting of navy and coral baja sweater and coral cutoffs), four adorable bikinis, sandals, flip flops, a neon pink and purple windbreaker for sailing, some lace-up rainboots (by Betsey Johnson!), three pairs of running shorts, six basic tees, five blouses, three striped skater skirts, and four PJ sets of her very own.

Charlie had talked Kate out of a new suitcase, mostly because she didn't need one, but also because the duffel belonged to her dad. And she wanted to keep him close to her. Especially in this new, scary situation with strangers and barely-not-strangers. She grasped her locket in her left hand and squinched her eyes closed.

"Please look after me," she whispered to the ceiling. Then the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she told Kate.

Checking the peephole to confirm that it was Castle, Charlie unhooked the deadbolt and opened the door. "Hey, Castle," she said softly. "Kate's just getting ready."

"I'm ready," Kate said from behind her, wheeling her suitcase around the corner.

"Charlie, where's your bag? I'll carry it down for you." Castle asked.

"It's over here, the big green one." Charlie pointed to it, and grabbed her backpack herself. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said, easily hoisting the duffel over a shoulder. "The other ladies are in the car. Beckett, you're in the back with the girls. Is that okay?"

Kate was prepared for a snippy jibe, but Castle's face was so earnest that she reconsidered. "Yeah, that's great! I'll sit in the middle, between my two favorites," she said with a wink at Charlie.

Charlie and Castle waited for Kate to lock up, and then they took the elevator down to the lobby, where Castle's SUV was idling.

"I thought you just had the Ferrari," Kate said questioningly.

"On family trips, we've got to haul out the maximum capacity vehicles," he said in a hokey Texan accent. "This model right here holds ten times the amount that the convertible does."

Kate nodded in amusement, and climbed into the car. Charlie shyly followed after her, clutching her backpack for dear life.

"Hey, Lex," she said to the redheaded teen on her left. "Hi, Martha!" She said to the woman in the front seat. They both returned the greetings.

"Kate, darling, we're all so thrilled you could join us," Martha said enthusiastically. "And you as well, Charlie! I'm very pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

"You too," Charlie answered meekly.

"It's nice to meet you, Charlie," Alexis said, leaning slightly across Kate.

"Yeah, you too," Charlie answered. "Thanks for letting me crash."

"Yeah, both of us," Kate added, trying to help Charlie feel less like an outsider.

"Nonsense, kiddos," Martha cried from the front. "You both are most welcome."

"Shall we on?" Castle asked dramatically as he loaded the last bag and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Hamptons or bust!" Alexis and Martha cried. The three of them laughed hysterically, and Charlie and Kate shared an uncomfortable look.

Hopefully, they thought, they'd start getting it. And soon.