Chapter Three

She softly clicks the door closed behind her and drops her keys into the bowl on her right. Her gun and badge are next, safely tucked inside a drawer, followed by her mother's ring and father's watch. Her apartment is still dark, but Beckett only moves to switch on a dim lamp on the coffee table beside the couch and finally exhales. She stands behind her couch, hands gripping the backrest with her head bowed. Breathe in, breathe out.

It's all she can manage to do, can't fathom to eat or drink, her body filled with a heavy, gut-wrenching feeling of loss. She knows she's the one that put it there, let her fear culminate into something she hasn't felt in years – not since her mother died in an alleyway and set her straight on a path of vengeance and of loneliness.

There's a small knock at the door that breaks her out of her dark haze, and she's hesitant to even acknowledge it. She'd made no plans tonight, knew that she would want to be alone after a day like today.

"Kate, open the door, it's me."

Beckett sighs in relief and heads to open the door, smiling softly as she greets the person on the other side.

"Hey Lanie, come in." She swings the door open wider to let Lanie walk in and sees that her friend has bought one of her more favoured bottles of wine.

"Javi told me that you and Castle were talking in the breakroom before blondie showed up, so I figured you could use the girl talk." She goes to place the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter and opens a drawer she knows holds the corkscrew. They've done this enough to know where the necessities for girl talk lie in each other's kitchens, so Beckett knows to grab two glasses from the cupboard and follow Lanie to the couch. "So, do you want to talk about it?"

In all honesty, Beckett has no idea if she wants to talk about it, if there is anything to talk about at all. But she decides it's best to share it with someone because yes, she could really use a friend right now.

"I told him that I remembered about the shooting and everything that happened when I was shot." She starts off slowly, swirling the wine in her cup, not daring to look up as she mutters the words to Lanie. "We bumped into each other on the weekend just after I finish my session with Dr. Burke and he was heading out to a breakfast date with… her."

Lanie stays quiet, knows that any questions she has should be saved for the end, after Kate has let everything out. As talkative as the medical examiner is, she is a good friend – and a patient one at that. She spends her day chatting – but not overly so – to people who can't reply and can only, in a manner of speaking, listen. So yeah, she knows staying quiet helps.

"So he asked about it today when we got to the scene and I didn't get to talk to him until the afternoon. And when we did get to talking, I just told him the truth – why I lied and why I didn't tell him about therapy and that I was sorry." She shrugs, moves the wine glass towards her lips and pauses, before taking a large mouthful of wine.

"Why would you be sorry about lying to him? I mean I know he tried to take a bullet for you and that he deserves to know, but is there something else?" Beckett closes her eyes and scrunches her nose, moving her thumb and index finger to rest on either side of the bridge of her nose.

"After he knocked me to the ground, he… he told me he loved me." There's a sharp intake of air from Lanie, and Kate continues to stare at the shallowing wine glass.

"Oh, Kate. Sweetie, the man tells you he loves you and you don't tell him you remember?"

"I know, I know Lanie, I screwed that up – I screwed all of it up. I just, I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone at the time you know, and now - now he's gone."

"Well what did he say when you told him the truth?" Beckett opens her mouth and closes it again, hadn't really thought about it because he hadn't responded had he?

"Actually, he didn't really say anything, just a few cluttered words. I don't know Lanie, he probably just wanted to clarify a few things about my going to therapy but Jacinda walked in and whisked him off to dinner before he could ask I guess. Probably wasn't anything overly important, it doesn't matter now anyway."

Beckett reaches forward to refill Lanie's glass, before settling back into the couch and a comfortable silence. They both sit like that for a while, both sipping and mulling over the conversation, Beckett's head resting on the palm of her hand on the edge of the couch, before Lanie speaks up.

"Well did you at least tell him how you feel at any point in this conversation?" Beckett jerks at the question, a little dazed out in the silence before recollecting herself.

"I, uh told him I was happy for him that he'd found someone else?"

"That is not what I meant Kate."

"I know, I just - no?"

"What? Girl, I thought we talked about this, why don't you just tell the man you love him before it's too late?"

"Because I think it's already too late Lanie. I mean, he's found someone else to be with, and who am I to stand in the way of that?"

"You're his partner Kate, you've been with him for four goddamn years – there's no way this air hostess holds a candle next to you."

"God Lanie, you don't think I know that? You don't think I really do want to fight for him? To be doing more than just wallowing in the fact that I've messed up something that could've been the greatest thing in my life?" Her wine glass is on the table now, both hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt in her lap. "I can't be that woman to him Lanie – I can't be the one who suddenly wants to be with him just because he's found someone else and because I'd end up alone. I've been selfish enough, he deserves so much more than that."

"Oh Kate." Lanie reaches across the couch to hold Kate's hands before continuing. "Do you really believe that? That he would really not care and just walk away even if he found out how you felt? Because the guy loves you Kate and that doesn't count for nothing."

"I know, I just – I need him in my life Lanie, as more than just my best friend or not, I need him here. And if I get in the way of whatever relationship he's in now, he's going to hate me and he's going to leave." She can feel her eyes watering, the wall of tears threatening to fall as she continues to look down to her lap and their hands.

"Sweetie he could never hate you. He loves you – and just because that boy is doing a horrible job of showing you that now by parading some blondie in your face, there's no way he's just forgotten that and moved on." There's a silence between them, a few tears sliding down Kate's cheek as she processes the whole situation. "Just think about it okay? You don't have to go running to him now – but just this once, risk it Kate. Tell him how you feel and who knows, maybe he still wants to be with you. And if he doesn't, then we come back here, drink a lot of wine and we go from there okay? You deserve a shot at whatever it is that you two have just as much as he does."

The next few words come as a whisper, Lanie barely catching them as Beckett speaks.

"And what if he doesn't want it anymore Lanie? I want to tell him that I love him but I'm terrified I've already lost him."

As he walks through the door, he spots his daughter and mother sitting on the couch, chatting quietly, each with a mug in their hands.

"Good evening ladies, how are we all tonight?" He flashes them a smile before taking a seat across from the couch.

"Hey dad, you're home early – how was dinner?" Alexis asks, tracing the rim of the mug with her index finger.

"Dinner was fine, enjoyable."

"Ahh - With Jacinda?" She waits for him to nod before continuing. "So you've been seeing her for a couple of weeks now, is it serious?"

"I'm not sure, we're just keeping things casual I guess, but I like her, she's what I need right now."

"Oh, okay." Alexis pauses, cautious before asking the next question. "I know this is a bit forward dad, but what about Beckett? I thought you two were… I don't know actually, but yeah, what about her?"

"Well what about her? We're not together or never have been, so there's nothing really to tell."

"I feel like there's something more to this, and Grams has refused to tell me anything so I figured I would just ask you." She places the mug down on the coffee table and faces her father. "What happened between you and Beckett?"

Castle sighs, running a couple of fingers through his hair. His mother surprisingly, sits there silently, watching the conversation in front of her.

"When she was shot, I told her I loved her, and when I asked her about it, she said she didn't remember. But apparently she has – for past year, so I'm just trying to move on because she clearly doesn't feel the same way." He hates to say the words out loud again, the truth of it all still stinging as much as he pushes it down.

"Oh Dad. She really told you she didn't feel the same way? After all these years?"

"Look Alexis, it's complicated okay?"

"Well then un-complicate it for me dad, tell me what on earth is going on because I'm worried about you right now." He looks up at her then, sadness in his eyes. He's never wanted for his love life to have an effect on Alexis, not until he was certain the other person could be trusted with her, but whether he's wanted it to or not, it has.

"That goes for me too Richard, you know how I feel about this whole debacle, but we're both worried about you." It's the first time Martha has spoken up, both ladies being patient as they wait for him to gather his thoughts. He's trying to figure out what to tell him, to give them a polished version of events or the full story. The writer in him decides to tell them everything because he has absolutely no idea what he's doing, and god, he could really use some help right now.

So he tells them about their conversation in the break room, about the therapy and the shooting. Despite Martha already knowing, he tells them about how he had found out about her secret and the way it had hurt, and explained why he'd decided to make the choices he'd made since then. And as he recounts the situation, he can't help but remember the words she'd said in the break room, in such a soft voice and with such resignation that he has no idea what to do with the words. As if the words were a ball she'd thrown in his court and all he can do is stare at it as it rolls back and forth in his mind.

When he's finished, he feels lighter and a little less burdened by everything he's kept inside to deal with – somewhat worried that he's unloaded all his issues onto his family, but relieved that they now know. After a moment's silence, Alexis is the first to speak up.

"Dad, you said she told you that even if it wasn't with her, she was glad you were happy?"

"Yeah?" It's the question he's been tackling with all evening; the ride from the precinct to the restaurant, all throughout dinner and on his way home. As hard as he'd tried to supress the conversation with Beckett and focus on anything else, his mind wouldn't let it go – not until he could figure out what the hell she really meant. He wants to believe himself – the fact that he could read her subtext, but doesn't want to be right – doesn't want to fall into every hopeful possibility of the meaning behind her words.

"Dad I know I'm still young, but that sounds like… it sounds like she wishes you could be happy with her."

"Alexis, I don't-"

"Richard dear, I think she's right." He sighs then, hating the fact that they could be right – that they are probably right. And he wants to be happy about it – he wants to jump with joy, but he can't because his head and his heart is so goddamn messed up.

"And if Alexis is right, what do I do then? I can't just go running back to her mother, it still hurts and I'm with Jacinda and it's just so confusing I don't know what to do." He puts his head in his hands, closing his eyes and slowly breathes out. Alexis moves then, stands up off the couch and moves towards her father, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad, I know I can't tell you what to do, or who to date, but I think your… relationship with Jacinda, as nice as I'm sure she is, is something that can be fixed – make this whole situation less complicating for you, at least for right now." He huffs out a breath and turns to look at her, brushing a few fallen strands away from her face.

"When did you get oh so wise, daughter?" He smiles at her, because he knows she's right. Even if the whole situation with Beckett doesn't go a certain way, he could do without the extra relationship he's put himself in, even if he had enjoyed her company.

"Probably somewhere between second and third grade." She quips back, lightening the mood of the room – something they're all thankful for, but there's still something he needs to figure out.

"But what do I do about Beckett? I mean, whatever she's said to me or hasn't said to me doesn't automatically fix everything. She still lied and kept it a secret and I'm not sure if I can forgive her for that, but I can't just leave – that's not… that's not what I want." It's then that Martha reaches forward to place a hand on his knee with a knowing, yet concerned look in her eye.

"I know darling, but forgiving her is really and only up to you Richard, because let's all be very real here – whether we like it or not, we all have our own secrets don't we?"

And his face falls then, and with it, his heart dropping straight to his stomach. Because for just as long, he had most definitely, been harbouring his own.

A/N: Once again, a massive thank you to everyone who has read it this far – I so very appreciate the support and the input that many of you guys have with the story.

Personally I'm not 100% happy with the way this chapter turned out, but hopefully it clears up a couple of issues with both Beckett and Castle. Hope everyone's had a safe Easter, the next chapter shouldn't be too far away!

G.