A/N- Thanks to you all for reading and giving this story so much love! It is so appreciated!

Jo- thank you for not giving up on me! Thank you for the beta.

All mistakes that remain are mine because I'm human.

Disclaimer- I do not own Castle or any of it's characters.

The More Things Change…

…the more they stay the same. Kate Beckett is bored with life, but when a serial killer starts dedicating murders to her- someone enters the scene to aid with the investigation and her life may never be the same. Season 2- AU Caskett meeting.

Chapter 8

'So I'd appreciate if you stopped checking my girlfriend out'

She stormed into the conference room a little more dramatically than was probably necessary. The look on Castle's face confirmed that he knew the reason for her hasty entrance. He looked like a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. However, once her eyes met his, she knew she couldn't be in there with him. Not right now. As upset as she was, she didn't want to make a scene, and call him out in front of Demming. Sure, she was mad, but Kate still cared about the man.

"Just wanted to let you both know that I'm back from lunch. I'm going to check in with Esposito and Ryan," she stated, her voice a little more clipped than usual. She stalked back out of the room, ignoring the sound of Castle on her tail. Kate didn't even acknowledge the presence until she reached her desk.

"Kate—" Castle started, the cocky confidence drained from his voice.

"Next time, why don't you just pee on me!" she asked.

"Wh—what?"

"You were obviously trying to mark your territory, Castle. You were trying to let Demming know that I was yours and all that. A little animalistic, don't you think?"

"I may have gotten a little carried away in the moment," he concluded.

"You think? You had no right!"

"He asked if we were together—"

"And we're not." The words came out harsher than she intended, almost like a verbal slap and she could see the pain in his expression, but before she could take the words back, his features calmed themselves.

"I see." Guilt washed through her as she watched Castle pull inward. Sure, he'd irritated her with the conversation, but her anger wasn't completely to do with him. It was with her mom, the case, the cover up or whatever. Yet here she was; pushing it all off on him.

"Castle—I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine."

"Cas—"

"Seriously. I'm sorry I overstepped. I read the signals wrong." He paused, looking like he had something else to say, but didn't continue.

"I told you that I'm not ready for anything right now. My life is kind of all over the place." She wanted to explain to him, make him understand, but she could tell it wouldn't work. His expression was masked, his guard up.

"Got it. Is Demming going to help with that?" Castle jeered. The snarky undertone of his voice was not lost on her.

"You think he's the reason? You know what—you are way out of line right now," she snapped.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Hey Beckett? We may have something," Demming called from the conference room.

"Great. I'll be right there," Kate said, forcing herself to keep her tone polite. In reality, she cringed at the sound of his voice. He'd chosen the perfect time to interrupt them, hurt flashing through the mask on Castle's face. "Rick?" She hesitated, trying to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at her.

"You go off with boy wonder. I should go home and get some writing done."

"I didn't tell you to leave."

"No—no you didn't, but I need to. Make sure you clear things up with detective boy. Make sure he knows you're free and clear."

She frowned. This had started with her furious at him, but right now she felt like she was the ass. How had that happened? When he was talking to Demming, it was like she was an object to fight over, but now—he was hurt?

"Seriously Cas—"

"Night, Beckett."

She wanted to call out to him. Ease his hurt, but she couldn't. She wouldn't. He was just as at fault as she was. They weren't together. They were friends. The kiss had been amazing, but was it a mistake? She was an idiot and this was a complete mess. Castle was just the type of guy she dreamed of being with, but not like this. Not now. Her personal life was crumbling at her feet. There were lies; maybe a conspiracy. Almost like one of his books, there was a mystery she needed to solve and her family was at the center of it. This wasn't the time to let her guard down and get involved with someone who would only end up breaking her heart. She needed to do this on her own.

They ended up closing the case without Castle's help, a corrupt cop their killer. At one point Demming had even appeared to be a suspect. That fact alone would've made Castle's day. But he was nowhere to be found.

She had tried to call him the same day he stormed out of the precinct, but he'd made the excuse that he was behind on deadlines so he wouldn't be in until the next case. When Demming was suspected, she called him again to let him know—straight to voicemail. It'd been almost two full days since she'd heard from him. A first for him since he'd invaded her life with Shaw a few weeks ago.

"Crazy case," Demming said, walking up behind her and shaking her from her internal ramblings.

"Yeah, it was. I'm glad it's over and Ike's name is clear. Hopefully he can pick up the pieces with his family and move on from this," she replied.

Her thoughts flashed to her mom. Could they pick up the pieces and fix whatever was going on?

"So—" he started.

"I think I'm going to head out. Long day and all…"

"Date night with the writer?"

"No. Quiet night at home," she provided and he gave her a polite smile.

"I wanted to apologize. Didn't mean to ask you out when you were with someone else. If I would've know—I'm not that type of guy."

"Tom—it's fine. Things with Castle are complicated."

"So not together?" he wondered.

"Not, not together. Like I said—complicated," she sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"But there's still a chance then, maybe?" Demming seemed hopeful, probably too hopeful. She was doing this all wrong. Was she giving off the impression that she was interested?

"No. I'm sorry. Maybe if things were different. You seem like a nice guy."

"Maybe in another life?" he joked. "Walk you out?"

"Sure. That would be nice," she said, with a small smile. He was very sweet and if her mind wasn't focused on Castle, maybe they could have had something. But he just wasn't what she was looking for right now.

They made their way out of the precinct and to the parking garage. Demming walked her right up to her cruiser, turning to her with a grin.

"It's been a pleasure, Detective Beckett." He held out his hand for her to shake. Kate eyed him, a nervous feeling fluttering in her belly. Swallowing the uneasiness down, she returned the handshake.

"It was. See you around, Detective."

"If you ever need another robbery consult, you know who to call," he said with a laugh and leaned forward. Before she could stop him, he brushed a kiss against her cheek. Kate placed her hand between them and pushed him away, preventing him from moving further.

"Goodnight, Tom," she said, her voice stern.

"Night Kate." He turned and walked toward his car. Innocent kiss on the cheek? Sure. Against every possible rule in the workplace code of conduct? Definitely. However, none of that explained the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach like a ton of bricks. Groaning to herself, she rubbed her hands over her face and turned toward her car. That was when she saw him. Castle, standing next to his car with a look of utter devastation. Oh God.

"Rick." His name fell from her mouth in shock. She hadn't done anything, but she could only imagine how this scene had played out through his eyes. He'd avoided the precinct for two days because of Demming. Thinking that she had a thing for the detective, he'd finally made his way back to find her here with the 'enemy'. Hurrying over to where he was standing, she caught him just as he was jumping back into his driver seat. "Castle, stop."

"No Kate. I got the message, crystal clear," he spat.

"You really don't."

"I came by to apologize, but I apparently should've called. I'm going to go. Call me for your next case."

"Castle—"

He slammed the door and drove off, leaving her standing there in utter shock. How the hell had this happened?

Kate sat in her car after Castle stormed off. She really needed to talk to someone, clear her head. God, she wished she could call her mom, but all she felt was anger and resentment toward her. Could she even trust her anymore?

Pulling out her cell phone, she hovered over Castle's name. No, calling wasn't the answer, but she couldn't leave this alone.

'It wasn't what it looked like. We need to talk,' she texted.

She waited for a bit, but her phone stayed silent. Sighing to herself, she found another contact. She didn't want to be alone.

'Movie?'

Her phone buzzed not long after.

'I'll bring ice cream. Be there in 20'

As promised, Lanie showed up at her doorstep with a bag full of girl's night necessities. Kate gave her a sad smile as she ushered her friend into the living room and then flung her body onto the couch.

"Girl, what happened?" her friend asked.

"What do you mean, what happened?" She wasn't intending to play dumb; she just didn't expect to be verbally jumped the moment she walked in the door.

"You, Kate Beckett,are not the type of friend that just calls me up for an impromptu movie night. You are a planner. So what pray tell happened?"

"My life is—my love life is in shambles," she said. Lanie didn't need to know about her family drama, but talking about men? That she could handle.

"Love life? Have you been holding out on me?"

"Well—" Kate started.

"Don't tell me. Castle? No—that hot robbery detective?"

"Lanie—"

"Right."

"Castle," she admitted, almost in a whisper.

"Really?" Lanie sounded more stunned than Kate could have imagined.

"Well kind of. I mean, we kissed and now—"

"Now?" Oh this wasn't going to be easy; maybe a girl's night had been a bad idea.

"We have this connection and I like him. Probably more than I should for how little I know about him. But, I can't be with him right now. I'm not in the place where I can be with anyone." Even opening up to Lanie and being this honest was outside of her comfort zone.

"Kate, did you talk to him?" Lanie asked.

"I tried and I thought he understood. I mean, he seemed to get that I couldn't dive into something now. And—"

"And obviously he's interested in you—"

"He's been obvious about that since the day we met. Lane, he makes things fun and I really need fun," Kate said with a small smile and then sighed.

"So the problem is, what, exactly?"

"Demming showed up."

"Please don't tell me. Kate Beckett, did you go from having no potential men in your life to now being torn between two?" she exclaimed.

"No! I'm not interested in Demming, but Castle thinks—"

"He's jealous," Lanie stated. She was filling in the holes in the story all by herself.

"Yes and he thinks that the reason I told him I couldn't be with him was because of Tom."

"Well just talk to him. Or better yet, surprise him at his place and show him."

"He saw me and Demming," Kate admitted.

"Saw you do what exactly?"

"Tom walked me out to my car and was saying good night. Before I could stop him, he kissed me on the cheek," Kate said, but then paused. Emotion started to rise in her throat, but she swallowed thickly and continued. "Wouldn't have been a huge issue except for the fact that Castle was there and saw us."

"Damn."

"Hence—shambles." Kate sighed and put her head in her hands.

"So in summary—my boring detective friend has one hot detective that she doesn't want anything to do with and then she has a handsome millionaire who she can't commit to. Mind you, the handsome millionaire is normally a playboy with a girl on each arm." Lanie's patronizing voice was not lost on her.

"When you say it like that, I sound like an idiot!"

"Well, how should you sound?" Lanie asked with a laugh.

"Okay, maybe I feel a little idiotic."

"Make him talk to you and go have fun with writer boy. A little fun will do you good."

"But I'm not ready for a relationship," Kate repeated. At this point she couldn't decide if she was reminding Lanie or herself.

"Who said you need to be in a relationship, Kate? Like I said—fun. Now put the movie in!"

"Yeah. You're right," she said. The connection with Castle was too strong; there may not be a way to just do casual. Honestly, she didn't know if she could do casual. And Castle was already telling Demming that they were together, so maybe he couldn't do casual with her either.

She needed to fix it somehow, before he left for good.

Lanie left her apartment a couple hours after the movie was over; but not before leaving Kate with the parting gift of reminding her to talk to Castle and clear the air. All of which sounded like great advice in theory, but as she lay in bed that night her mom's voice rang in her head. 'I'm protecting you from this and from yourself'. Castle and relationship drama were the least of her worries.

"I don't need protection. I need answers," she muttered to herself, as she threw back the covers. Looking around her room, she pulled on a sweatshirt, leggings and sneakers. She wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, not with her mind racing like this. Grabbing her keys and her gun, Kate rushed out of her apartment and drove to the precinct.

She was in luck that the person working the records room didn't ask many questions as to why she had shown up in the middle of the night. Third shift was apparently under the impression that the less they knew, the better. And that philosophy was precisely what she needed right now. Montgomery wouldn't be pleased to know that his lead homicide detective was snooping around in records without probable cause.

The problem was, she did have a reason. Maybe not probable cause yet, but she would get there. Something wasn't right about any of this and at this point she didn't know if her father's accident file would even be here. Pulling up his name in the computer system, she located Beckett, Jim. Of course they hadn't fully computerized his information yet. That would've made the whole process too easy.

Grabbing the box of files off of the shelf, she shuffled through and found the right one. Opening the folder up, she choked back the sob that rose in the back of her throat. It had been years since she'd seen pictures from the scene. It didn't matter how long he'd been gone; it took her back to that winter day when he hadn't shown up for dinner.

A truck had hit his car head on when he was on his way to the restaurant. He had died immediately.

Or at least that was what she had been told. That was what she had always been led to believe. She'd never really studied the accident file; there was never any need to. Traffic accidents happened every day, but now she wished she would've paid closer attention. Though at the time, she was a college student. Why would she ever have thought to investigate a car accident? She hadn't known anything about cover ups or conspiracies.

Flipping past the photos, she read the report.

And then she read it again.

The report itself made no sense compared to what her mom had told her about the accident. What she knew to be a simple tragic car accident in her memories appeared to be nothing of the sort. Witnesses claimed that the truck that hit her father seemed to be chasing him—trying to run him off of the road. There were several detailed witness accounts all saying the same thing. Every one of them said that this "accident" seemed anything but accidental. However, the officer on scene signed off on everything and charges weren't even filed. Her mom told her that the other driver had died in the accident and she remembered reading that in the newspaper as well. Yet, clear as day in bold print on the report there was a different truth:

Fatalities: 1

The walls were closing in on her. The air was too thick and the shelves filled with boxes were suffocating. Everything she knew for the last eleven years was proving to be a lie. Kate gasped as her tears blurred her vision. Against all protocol, she grabbed the files she needed and rushed out of the precinct. She needed fresh air; she needed to think.

Reaching her car, she threw herself and the files inside before she leaned her head on the steering wheel, allowing the tears to roll down her cheeks. The whole thing had to be a cover up. How far did this go? Who was involved? She couldn't trust anyone. There had to be people at the precinct who were involved in this and her Mom obviously had ties to the conspiracy.

Kate pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her phonebook. Her thumb hovered over his name. She wanted to be able to trust him and she owed him an apology. He'd be willing to help; she knew it. Allowing herself to tap Rick's contact, she listened as her call went to his voicemail. She ended the call without leaving a message. It was probably for the best. This should be her cross to bear alone.

She'd get justice for her dad even if it killed her.

TBC

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