Kairos – Chapter 15

DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine J

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Sunday Morning – April 28, 2013, 10:41 a.m., At the Kronologix Facility in Brooklyn, New York

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The couple stands outside the non-descript warehouse building, glancing upward at the top floor – the fourth floor – taking in the building, taking in the sight of where – as Castle puts it – "it all went to hell in a handbasket without us even realizing it."

Earlier, after Kate's slight prodding, he had placed a call to Dr. Windholm and – sure enough – things are slightly different in this timeline with the good doctor as well. Gone is her softer understanding of 'family and spiritual time' in giving her employees Sundays off. In its place is a harder, more determined woman. That much was evident from their phone call.

The two have debated what may have caused the change in the woman's personality, but in the end, does it really matter? They have to see her. They have to go back.

That is their singular focus now, it is why they are standing outside Kronologix once again. They have to go back. So many things have to change. Beginning, of course, with Alexis. But it doesn't stop there.

During the morning sit at his loft and ride to this place, a solemn Castle brought Kate up to speed with everything he had learned.

Javier Esposito. Dead. Killed in the dirty bomb explosion that was previously stopped by Castle and Kate in their timeline.

Kevin Ryan. Ditto.

Both friends – more than friends to Kate – brothers really, gone. In a flash. Literally. They weren't just at ground zero. They were standing where Kate and Rick had stood.

"Where we should have been standing," Kate had muttered sadly, as Castle told her the story.

He grabs her hand, and they begin to walk toward the front door, slowly entering the building. Both are immediately taken aback with the hustle and bustle of the place on this early Sunday morning.

"Not in Kansas anymore," Castle muses under his breath, noting the stark changes in the demeanor of workers. He also notices something else. The building interior is more . . . well, it's just colder, and not terms of temperature. Where the building from their timeline was warm and inviting, with brick interior that shouted out history, this building is . . . not. It is stark, bland, with bright lights that are more for visibility than atmosphere.

"Surprised we didn't notice this when we left yesterday," Kate whispers.

"I think we were both too excited to notice much of anything yesterday," he offers back to her, and she nods her head in agreement. They see the receptionist as they enter, and turn their attention to the attractive young woman behind the desk.

"We're here to see –"

"I'm right here, Mr. Castle," Dr. Windholm suddenly interrupts the two as they approach the reception desk. Neither had seen her come from the elevator.

"Good to see you again, Doctor," Castle tells her.

"Surprised to see you so soon, Mr. Castle," she remarks, and then gives Kate a long glance. Suddenly, Castle realizes that the woman is on edge a bit. More than a bit. It makes sense. It appears that Kate is something of a celebrity in this timeline. It follows that the CEO of a highly-advanced technology company – that is dabbling in things some people would frown upon – would be wary of a weekend visit from the Assistant DA.

"Miss Beckett," the doctor says to Kate, extending her hand.

"Dr. Windholm," Kate replies evenly. She's seen the change in the doctor and she, too, has quickly surmised the reason why. She files this away, knowing that she can use this to their advantage later, if need be.

"Let's go upstairs, shall we?" Dr. Windholm tells the couple, who fall in line, following the doctor to the bank of elevators.

"That's different," Castle says softly.

"What is?" Dr. Windholm asks.

"The elevators," Castle replies. "When we . . . left . . . when we made our trip yesterday, there was only one elevator car. Now there are three," he notes, as he wonders why such a change. It's a small thing, for certain, but right now all he is thinking about is ripples, ripples, ripples.

One small change here, causing a miniscule change there. But add them up, and you have a less friendly, colder, more antiseptic building – company – led by a harder, less friendly chief executive.

Ripples.

"How did we do that?" he wonders to himself as they board the elevator. Unfortunately, his inner monologue of thoughts didn't stay silent. He's actually voiced the words.

"I thought so," Dr. Windholm exhales, and Castle and Kate can tell that the good doctor is barely pleased to see either of them.

"Thought what, Doctor?" Kate asks innocently. It doesn't work.

"Don't play games. You two broke protocol," she says evenly, eyeing Kate first and Castle second. "You signed documents swearing you would not do anything to alter the past. Obviously that is exactly what you did. I could tell yesterday when you returned. There was none of the 'awe' and 'wonder' of being in the past, of seeing past events. That's the reaction that everyone – without exception – has when they return. Except for you two."

Castle is about to say something when she raises her hand, rebuffing anything he might say.

"No, you both were excited all right . . . but not about what you had just seen. It was an excitement to see what was different now. This after I was clear – and the contract you signed was clear – that altering the past has repercussions that reverberate throughout time, moving forward."

The elevator is quiet as they ascend upward. The doctor is angry, barely able to contain her fury. This is the sort of thing that – if made public – can bring her company to its knees. And she's standing next to the city's Assistant DA, for heaven's sake.

The bell dings, and the doors open on the fourth floor, once again.

"Guilty as charged," Castle admits. "Let me explain. We –"

"Explain? Explain what?" Windhom interjects. "Explain why you potentially jeopardized countless lives because of a few changes you –"

"One change," Kate corrects her. It's clear that the doctor is aware that they have done something. There's no need to try to deny it. In truth, she and Castle came to this conclusion already, on their own this morning during their trip here to the facility. The only way they could reasonably ask to go back so quickly would be to admit what they had done.

"What did you do?" Windholm asks, as she walks to her desk. Once there, she stands behind her desk chair, arms now crossed as she eyes the couple.

"We saved my mother," Kate tells her.

Dr. Windholm looks at Kate – almost as if she is seeing right through the assistant DA – before recognition kicks in.

"Your mother . . . civil attorney . . . fine woman," she tells her, nodding her head. She notices the blank but hopeful stare from Kate.

"You know nothing about your mother do you?" she asks, not waiting for a response. "You've changed the timeline. In this timeline, you aren't even aware of your mother's reputation for taking on those cases for . . . well, for what the media likes to term 'the common people'."

"Truth is, I absolutely nothing about her since 1999," Kate admits. When Dr. Windholm only responds with raised, questioning eyebrows, Castle intervenes.

"Her mother was killed in January of 1999," Castle tells the doctor. This draws another raised eyebrow and a harrumphing sound from the doctor, who now quickly consults a calendar file on her monitor.

"But . . . I was right . . . you went back to December, 1998," Dr. Windholm reflects, staring at the entry on her computer. "Why would you go back weeks before she was . . . Oh God, please don't tell me you used my technology to go back and kill someone in the –"

"No, no!" Kate interrupts. "We . . ."

She isn't sure how to proceed, how much to say. Castle makes the decision for her.

"Actually, quite a few people died because of what we have done, Doctor," he tells her. "Well over a twelve hundred people, if current records are accurate."

Kate immediately throws him a look, which he just as quickly deflects.

"Clean slate, full disclosure," he reminds Kate. "Remember what we said. No secrets from the doctor. She . . . you," he says, now focused on the doctor, "you need to understand everything. You need to understand exactly what that damn ripple effect we spoke about before . . . what it really means."

Something about Castle's voice – about his stance now – touches the doctor, in an alarming way.

"More than twelve hundred people? Dead?" she thinks to herself, fear now slowly rising inside of her. She pulls her chair out, and sits. Putting her elbows on her desk, and her chin atop her folded hands, she addresses the couple in front of her.

"Maybe you two should sit down," she tells them nervously, and they quickly comply, as Castle continues the story.

"It's a long story, but let me summarize," Castle begins. "Back in the day, there was a group of dirty cops here in the city."

"What a stunner," Windholm muses sarcastically.

"Yeah, right . . . well," Castle continues, "these cops started . . . believe it or not . . . kidnapping mafia crime figures for ransom. I know, I know, it sounds kind of preposterous," he tells her as he notices the look of complete disbelief that passes across the doctor's face.

"Anyway, they kidnap these Mafiosi, and lo and behold, the Assistant District Attorney of that time finds out," Castle continues. "Except instead of turning them in, instead of prosecuting, this Assistant DA decides to insert himself into the scheme. He blackmails the group of cops involved."

"You can't be serious," the doctor remarks, clearly not buying into this. "This sounds more like a television show than –"

"Trust me, doctor," Castle tells her. "I wish I were joking. The assistant DA at that time was William Bracken."

With that, the doctor pushes herself away from her desk, her eyes widening.

"Shut the front door!" she exclaims, now folding her arms again.

They're losing her. They know it.

"Follow me on this, Doctor," Kate interrupts, drawing the scientist's attention back to her.

"Senator Bracken always had bigger plans than just being the top attorney for New York. He used the monies from the . . . blackmailing scheme . . . to finance his first political campaign. Part of a long-thought-out strategy to never have to raise monies from lobbies and other normal channels. That way he is beholden to no one. Think about it. He didn't come from money. Yet he never raised significant monies on his own."

Kate smiles as she sees the look of recognition in the doctor's eyes, and is relieved to get the confirmation that – as in her timeline – the William Bracken of this timeline didn't come from a family of money either. So, it begs the question – how does one who doesn't have money run effective political campaigns without raising large sums of money? Where does his massive war chest come from?

"And evidently, even in this timeline, that seems to hold true still, given the look on your face," Kate continues, focusing on the doctor. When the doctor's look of recognition turns to surprise, Kate lets the other shoe drop.

"I'm a cop, Doctor," Kate tells her. "The Kate Beckett of this timeline may be the Assistant DA, but for the past decade plus, I've been a cop in my timeline. Detective in the NYPD, and a damn good one."

"The best," Castle interjects, and she reaches for his hand, squeezing it. "Youngest ever to make detective in the city of New York."

"I wanted to be an attorney," Kate continues, "but when Mom was killed . . . those plans changed."

"How was she killed?" the doctor asks. "Assuming, that is, I buy this tale of yours."

"During the kidnappings, an undercover cop was killed," Kate begins.

"By a fellow cop," Castle adds, now taking over the story. Unbeknownst to the couple, the way they are stepping in and out, finishing each other's sentences is lending credence to the story. No one can practice something like this so quickly, unless it is . . . unless it is a story they have told for years.

Unless it is the truth.

"The cops – including the killer – framed another man, another Mafia guy, for the murder," Castle continues. "This guy –"

"Joe Pulgatti," Kate interjects.

"Pulgatti," Castle continues when he sees no recognition of the name from Dr. Windholm, "he goes to jail. But he's innocent of the murder. So he starts reaching out to a bunch of attorneys, wanting to appeal. Hoping someone will take his case."

"Problem is, he knows about the kidnappings, about the ransom, and about the blackmailing by the Assistant DA," Kate interjects.

"That's right," Castle continues. "And so when Johanna Beckett decides to take the case, and as far as she knows, it's just a case of wrongful conviction – initially she knows nothing about the whole scheme. A wrongful conviction is the type of case that got her attention."

"That's the type of case that would get her attention . . . here . . . as well," Dr. Windholm replies.

"But it doesn't matter," Kate interrupts. "Or, I mean to say, it didn't matter. She took the case. And because she took the case, now it is a bigger problem than she could have anticipated, because Bracken can't allow Pulgatti to blow the whistle on his operation."

"So he had Pulgatti killed?" Dr. Windholm interrupts, asking the question. This all sounds far-fetched. But that's why it is so believable also.

"I wish it had been so simple," Kate replies. "No – Bracken chose a more . . . harsh and final method. He killed my mother."

"He had her killed is the more accurate description," Castle corrects. Kate simply nods her head.

"He had her killed," she agrees. "Then he had his hired guns kill a couple more people in the same way – to make it look random. So that no one would ever piece together the motive. It worked. The case went cold, unsolved, declared a case of random gang violence crime." She spits these final words out.

"Big picture – let me cut to the chase," Castle interrupts again. His eyes are haunted. Dr. Windholm is only now noticing this. He looks haggard. Worn out. She idly wonders how he has been affected by whatever it is that these two have done.

"We went back to a specific point in time, a couple of weeks before Johanna Beckett's murder," Castle continues. "We intercepted the letter that Joe Pulgatti wrote to her firm from prison, asking her to take on his case. We made sure she never saw his request, and then we sent him back a reply indicating she wasn't interested."

The doctor now nods her head in understanding, pursing her lips.

"So your mother," she says, now looking at Kate, "never got the letter. She never took his case. Which saved her life."

Kate nods.

"And because her mother never died, Kate stayed out at Stanford, got her degree, went on to law school and became a lawyer," Castle remarks, now sitting back in his chair, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"And because Kate became a lawyer, that means that Kate never became a cop," Castle continues. "And because she never became a cop, I never shadowed her."

He sees the confusion on the doctor's face, and is ready to explain, when Kate interjects again.

"Let's back up a bit," Kate tells her. "In our reality, in our timeline, Castle is a wildly successful novelist. He's written multiple series of mystery novels. In this reality, he stopped writing."

"Fourteen years ago," Castle interrupts, his voice low.

"But in our reality, he was a successful author. A celebrity of sorts. And he shadowed me, and my team – helping us solve cases and getting ideas for new stories, new novels. Just go with me on this, okay?" Kate tells her when she sees the look of disbelief on the doctor's face.

"Castle and I solved a lot of cases together. One of those cases was a terrorist who tried to set off a dirty bomb in the city. Happened a couple of years ago."

Kate let's that hang there in the air. She nods after a few seconds when realization finally clicks with the scientist.

"Yeah, we solved that," Kate tells her. "Castle did, actually. The bomb never went off. No one died."

"That's what you meant when you said over a twelve hundred deaths," the doctor remarks weakly, almost whispering now to Castle. He simply nods his head.

"The city lost families. We lost friends. Good friends. Good cops. All over an event that shouldn't have happened. All over an event that would not have happened had I been a cop. Had we not gone back and changed my mother's fate."

"I . . ."

Dr. Windholm is literally twiddling her fingers on her desktop now as if playing a piano, lost in the possibilities. It's an audacious story, but exactly the type of unforeseen ripples she has often warned . . . and been warned about. On one hand, she is intrigued beyond measure. On the other hand, there is no way she can allow these stories to get out. Panic? Yeah, count on it. But something else also.

Anger. Retribution. Revenge against her company.

"We want to go back," Castle tells the doctor. "I'm not going to lie to –"

"Unlike last time," the now angry executive interrupts.

"We want to go back and reset things," Castle continues, undaunted. "We made a huge mistake. We need to correct that mistake. It will bring back – at least that we know of – over a thousand lives . . . over twelve hundred lives . . ."

He pauses for a few seconds, overcome with emotion, unable to contain the sadness that is bubbling over. Up to this point, he's done a marvelous job of remaining detached and repentant. Now, his real feelings are finding their way to the surface, as he thinks about his one, true motivation for going back. The twelve hundred or so people – that is for the doctor's benefit.

". . . including my daughter," he tells her, staring at the doctor with eyes misting with tears.

"Ah . . ." Dr. Windholm exclaims, now comfortable in finding Richard Castle's true motivation. "So there it is. Your real reason, the reason I see such sadness on you, Mr. Castle."

"Like I said," he tells her softly. "Full disclosure this time."

She is quiet for a moment, looking back and forth between the two as she gathers her thoughts in a workable fashion. Then she speaks.

"You mentioned that Mr. Castle stopped writing," she addresses to Kate.

"Because his daughter was killed," Kate replies, giving his hand another squeeze as he simply nods his head. She and Castle decided earlier that the doctor would see through any ruse of theirs, and so they have come clean.

"I cannot . . . I will not exist without my daughter," Castle tells the doctor, and suddenly the sadness in his eyes is mixed with a determination and . . . and an unnerving urgency. "Not when she is gone because of me. Because of one thing that I did."

"We did," Kate corrects him. For Kate, this is all about getting Alexis back, getting Javier and Kevin Ryan back. Yeah, she realizes it is highly likely that – when they return back – she will still be in a relationship with William Bracken. She will still be his mistress. But she also has decided that she knows how to end things on that front. She has decided that she doesn't need time travel to get out of a relationship with Bracken. There will be ramifications, sure. But she's been at war with him in one timeline. If leaving him starts a new war in this timeline – a timeline with her mother still alive – so be it. She and Castle can fight that war.

The doctor pauses for a few seconds before speaking.

"Why – and I really mean this – but why in hell should I trust you . . . either of you . . . a second time?" she asks, angrily. "I sent you back, in good faith –"

"For two millions dollars," Castle adds, his eyes graying. "Not just for good faith." Kate gazes at the woman, and joins into the negotiation.

"I will tell you why you will do this, Dr. Windholm," Kate begins, her stare piercing through the woman. "You're going to do this because you don't want the Assistant District Attorney doing everything in her power to shut you down. You don't want me bringing the press here. You don't want me giving them a demonstration while telling them how things can go awfully awry."

"We don't need you for a demonstration, Doctor," Castle adds. "You know this. You explained everything to us in wonderful detail."

"I know you know who Senator William Bracken is," Kate continues, and yeah, that does it. She sees the fear quickly cloud the executive's eyes before she recovers. "Regardless of the history I have with him in my timeline, you know the good relationship I share with him here. He has mentored me for years. I need only place one phone call and he will take a far greater interest in what is happening here than I suspect you would be comfortable with."

Without hesitation, Kate takes her phone out of her purse, and starts scrolling through contacts.

"That won't be necessary . . . Detective," the doctor tells her quickly, intentionally using the detective title. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"I hate playing hardball like this," Castle admits to the doctor, offering her an olive branch after their bad cop/worse cop exchange. "I really do. But this . . . this timeline . . . it shouldn't be here. It wouldn't be here if not for me. I have to change things back."

"Back?" the doctor eyes them warily. "You're asking me to believe that you are both going back to allow her mother to be killed?" she asks Castle directly.

"Not exactly," he tells her, offering her the first hints of a small smile.