Author's Note: See notes on Chapter One for a more complete introduction. This chapter deals with episode 2.13 Sucker Punch.

Disclaimer: Castle and its characters do not belong to me, I make no money from this, and no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just enjoying some time with a few of my favorite characters. The story is mine, however, except where I'm directly quoting the episode.

Richard Castle, Grown-Up

Chapter Ten: I Can't Shadow You Anymore

It shouldn't have been that difficult to understand, but Kate wasn't ready to comprehend the full meaning behind those words yet. The very same method and the very same weapon that the killer employed—ten years ago. Ten years ago. Ten years ago. The words echoed around the room.

Castle hadn't taken his eyes off of her except to occasionally glance at Lanie or Dr. Murray. He didn't need to see the pictures because they were identical to the ones he had shown the forensic pathologist several months ago in his ill-advised foray into Johanna Beckett's murder.

Despite the fact that Castle had already told Kate some of this same information that Dr. Murray was even now relating, she looked like she'd never heard any of it before. It was then Rick realized the shock that she had experienced when he admitted what he'd done must have overridden the details he had tried to share with her at the time. He watched as her expression turned from professionally interested to horrified disbelief; the words fell into place at last, uniting the facts in her mind.

Kate handled a plastic reconstruction of the blade used in both crimes, then fingered a similar weapon that the doctor had brought along as an example. She looked as if that very knife had just been plunged into her own midsection. Rick's heart broke at the way she gently touched the photos of Jack Coonan's wounds—almost as if she were touching her mother's. Lanie looked as worried as he was. This could be bad, really bad.

He thought she'd look to him for confirmation that she had indeed put all of this together correctly, but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze instead.

"Lanie?" Her voice was strangled, halting. She was grasping for a lifeline to prevent another trip to the hole that had nearly consumed her. It was clear that the answer she wanted would not be forthcoming.

"I'm so sorry."

But it was Dr. Murray who was willing to say the words no one else could: "Detective Beckett, there is no doubt in my mind that Jack Coonan was killed by the same man who murdered your mother."

Beckett came to his apartment later that night, and he wanted her to know that the call was hers alone to make; he would not push her beyond where she was willing to go. "I will do anything that you need, including nothing if that's what you want." He was thrilled that she had decided to again pursue her mom's killer, knowing it meant she finally felt strong enough to unearth the rest of Johanna's story. The beautiful detective would have the closure she'd been denied for so long.

But he was ecstatic that she was asking him to close this case with her; after last summer's fiasco, he wouldn't have blamed her for shutting him out of this one. They would do this together, and there was no way he'd let her fall back into the pit that had almost consumed her before.

When they brought Dick Coonan in, it was clear she wasn't totally confident that solving the case could actually be done. She stared through the two-way glass in the observation room at the man who was her one link to the professional killer who had murdered her mother, fear creeping in, causing her to doubt everything she was doing.

"What if I let her down?" The words sounded as if they were wrung from her very soul.

No matter what he said, he feared it would sound cliché and empty. He couldn't tell her that she wouldn't let her mother down because that wasn't what she needed to hear. She may want to hear it, but deep down she would believe that it was merely a thinly veiled half-truth; anything could happen in a case like this and they both knew that. She was looking to him for honesty and support. "Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration for Nikki Heat?"

"No. Why?"

Rick knew she expected him to call her extraordinary again, but he wanted to give her more. The dangerous combination of the single-minded focus with which she was again pursing her mom's case and the fear that she might still come up empty meant that she was getting closer and closer to the pit. He would do whatever it took to keep her from sliding back in there.

Castle decided that he would do what he did best: he'd turn the serious into something to laugh about. While others might think it was neither the time nor place to crack a joke, he knew that's exactly what she needed at that moment. Not about her mother's murder, of course, but why he picked her to base a character on. He hoped that she understood by now that he continued to follow her because she had become important to him, so a little levity in that area couldn't hurt. It didn't much matter if she laughed or rolled her eyes at him—or even if she slugged him in the stomach—as long as Kate knew she wasn't alone in this, that her wisecracking shadow wasn't going anywhere.

"Because you're tall." It had been a while since he'd seen a genuine smile on her face but his comment had put one there; it was small, but there. He was pleased that his little joke had simultaneously lightened her mood and refocused her on what she knew by bringing up Nikki: she was a good detective.

The anxiety that she could still walk away from this one case without a final answer had momentarily paralyzed her, but now she was ready. Her face became stern again and she took a deep breath to brace herself for the confrontation. She felt prepared to face the man who could lead her to her mother's killer, the very same thug who'd killed Jack Coonan at his own brother's behest. Seeing her detective persona back in place with confidence, he sent her to battle. "Now go in there and do your job."

"I let her down," Kate gave voice to her thought.

For this exact reason, Castle had not assured her it would all go well: their carefully crafted plan had failed. What she most dreaded had happened, the one case she hadn't touched again, the one that would kill her if she couldn't solve it, had just reached another dead end.

"No, you didn't." He had to say something; maybe it wouldn't change how she felt, but he somehow knew Johanna would have wanted her daughter to realize that she could never let her down, whether she solved the murder or not.

"Rathbourne is in the wind, Dick Coonan is about to walk. I missed something."

"Could've been me. Rathbourne could have checked the routing number, realized the number was coming from my account, not Dick's. I was arrogant." As he spoke the words, it drove the truth deeper into his heart, terrifying him. If this is somehow my fault—

"I didn't think you were arrogant, I thought what you did was sweet. And I will pay you back." Amazing. She was comforting him!

"Negative, Ghostwriter. Small price to pay for a shot at your mother's killer."

"Her killer?" Kate's voice held an unmistakable question but he wasn't sure why.

"What?"

"Coonan said it was a hundred grand to catch her killer."

"And you never told him it was your mother that was murdered."

They had just solved it—Coonan and Rathbourne were one and the same. Dick Coonan was the trained killer. And he hadn't left yet, either; they moved into the bullpen where he was finishing up his paperwork. Kate didn't mince words.

"There was no Rathbourne. That was just a cover. It was you."

Coonan looked up and smiled slightly, almost as if he were embarrassed to have been caught still in the precinct when they figured out his ruse. "Clever girl," he causally remarked, then as a coiled snake will strike before its victim has a chance to react, he took down the officer signing him out, using that officer's gun to take Castle hostage.

How do I manage to get myself into these things? Rick agonized. Coonan was now using him as his escape route. Oh, no, he's not! There was no way Castle was going to let him get away with this.

Captain Montgomery realized what was going on and quickly moved between them and the elevator door, gun aimed at Coonan. In stunned disbelief, Rick watched as the gun lowered, Kate talking her boss into letting them go. Coonan had two hostages, now: a writer and a woman who desperately needed answers. One he held physically; the other was even more firmly in his grasp.

Castle shook his head slightly, signaling Kate that she could not let Coonan leave the precinct, no matter what words or actions he used to manipulate her into doing so. She ignored him. For the first time since he'd known her, she seemed to be backing down from something, but this was not the one to give in on! Has everyone here gone mad? If she won't stop him, if the Captain won't, I have to.

He made a royal mess of things. Slamming the back of his head into Coonan's nose, he hoped to daze the man and remove the leverage he gained by taking Castle hostage. What he hadn't thought about was the fact that this man was a trained killer; he had been stunned, yes, but before Rick could get out of the way, Coonan had a gun leveled at him, ready to make good on his threat of killing the writer. Waiting the split-second for the inevitable bullet, he was shocked as he heard the shot and Coonan fell backwards onto the floor. It was then he realized what had happened: Kate had been forced to shoot Dick Coonan, the man who had her answers, to save Rick's life.

Even after the formal statement, he kept replaying everything over and over in his mind; his conscience wouldn't let him rest until he'd faced it all head-on. I don't think I'll ever be able to get those images out of my head. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Coonan's blood flowing out over Kate's hands as she tried to perform CPR on the man she'd just shot. The dying man had her answers, but wouldn't be telling her anything now. Her sobs proved she knew that, but she couldn't give up yet. "Come on! Four, five, six, seven, eight… Stay with me. Come on, stay with me. No! Come on! Stay with me! One, two, three…"

He could tell as he watched that Kate was in danger of falling deeper into that hole than she had ever been before. Rick placed his hand on her shoulder, offering his soundless support and trying to pull her back from the precipice, the one he had just pushed her further towards. What have I done? Why did I have to play the hero?

Coonan's body was moved to the morgue and Kate had taken a few minutes to clean up and change into the spare clothes she kept in a locker. She was in Captain Montgomery's office when they told Rick he could leave whenever he wished since he'd given his statement, so he decided to take a walk to clear his head. Exiting the building, he began walking aimlessly, his thoughts in turmoil. She'll never have closure now, a voice taunted in his mind. You think you're willing to do whatever it takes for her, but you were more concerned about yourself this time. That wasn't true; yes, he knew that once Dick Coonan had no further use for a hostage, he was a dead man. He also knew that Coonan would be out of the country before the police could even begin to catch up with him, taking whatever knowledge he had with him. But effectively, I've caused the same thing. Now she has no hope of finding her mother's killer. It's my fault.

His stomach began rumbling. Food. He could bring her food. She needed to eat. And perhaps he could also give her something else, something he was afraid she'd long desired: he would quit shadowing her. Maybe if he wasn't around constantly, reminding her of why she'd never catch the men behind her mother's murder, she'd be able to move on with her life. It was the only form of resolution left that he could offer her.

He showed up at her desk with dinner for the two of them. "I didn't know what you felt like, so I got Sushi, got some Italian, got some Thai. I even grabbed some hotdogs." He filled her desk with food.

She tried to reassure him. "It's not your fault, you know."

This was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he couldn't keep putting his desires ahead of her. It was time for him to take responsibility for his actions, to be the grown-up his age required. He needed to leave before he did even more damage to her life. "I overstepped. I came down here to say that I was sorry, and that I'm through. I can't shadow you anymore. If it wasn't for me—"

She interrupted his words. "If it wasn't for you, I would've never found my mom's killer." While he was glad that he'd provided the money to lure "Rathbourne," leading them to the knowledge that he was really Coonan, he couldn't get past the fact that he was now dead, taking the name of the man who had hired him to the grave. And Rick knew that it was his fault. He wanted to stay, part of him needed to be near her, but he'd already caused her too much pain.

Part of the battle that raged within him must have shown on his face because she continued. "If you tell anyone what I'm about to say, there's going to be another shooting, but I've gotten used to you pulling my pigtails. I have a hard job, Castle, and having you around makes it a little more fun."

He looked at her and smiled at her kindness. He had just taken away her best shot at finding the person responsible for having her mother killed, and she was trying to make him feel better? She gave him a way to continue to work with her, actually told him she wanted him around when she caught whoever had hired Coonan to kill her mother. It had to be a first—she was asking him to stay.

Not only that, but she was still determined to catch the person behind it all. Despite everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, she hadn't given up. Rather than bury it again, this time even deeper than before, she had decided that the case was solvable, that one day just the right detail would break and she would put all of this behind her.

This woman was indeed extraordinary; in fact, that word seemed to fall dramatically short as a descriptor of Detective Kate Beckett.