CHAPTER 16 – REMEMBER

They drove on for hours, not saying much. Rick thought as he drove – thought about how to fix things. He still had hopes for the run away together plan, but he didn't think Kate would ever be convinced. And he liked her for it – she wasn't one to avoid her problems. So they had to come up with another solution; something that would solve things for good. Not just stop the guys chasing them, but make it so that they could be together. Every idea he had, Rick made sure he factored this in. He wasn't going to lose her when they were safe.

Kate had been thinking too, and at about 8pm they both turned to each other and said simultaneously:

"We need to solve the case."

Kate said it solemnly; Rick had more of a question in his voice. But they had both said it; they both thought it. Rick laughed.

"We really are connected."

Kate smiled. "Seems that way. But – why did you think of that? I mean, you don't even know about the case."

"I know there is one. And you seem to think it's the root of all this – and I think it's the root of your pain, too. I mean, I'm not naïve enough to think that getting to the bottom of it will magically heal you – but it might help you get some closure."

Kate nodded. "You're pretty smart. For a writer man-child," she added, a grin playing on her lips. Rick saw through it though. She knew she was going to have to talk about it, and she didn't want to break down in front of him again. So she was pretending – doing what she did best.

"You're not so bad yourself. For a spook."

Kate laughed quietly. When her laughter had died down Rick let the silence swell around them, giving her time, waiting for her to be ready. After a few minutes she began to speak, not looking at him, hugging her knees and staring out at the road; it was getting dark, and the cats' eyes were blinking at them from between the white stripes between the lanes.

"It was... the ninth of January 1999. That day... my mother had been really busy, working on a case. I was still home from college, Christmas vacation. Our decorations were still up – they shouldn't have been, it's bad luck to have them up after the 6th, but Mom had been so busy, Dad too, and I was a lazy 19 year old, I wasn't going to take them down. I was on vacation." She laughed again, but a dead, humourless laugh that fell flat against the dashboard. "She... she came into my room to say goodbye. The case was ending, she said. She was a lawyer, she'd just found something out that was going to change everything. She'd finally be able to spend some time with me before I went back to school. I was glad, but it was early and I was still half asleep. I hardly managed to say anything to her – she told me we'd have dinner later, but Dad new all the details, she didn't need to tell me. She said she loved me. I think I said 'Mmhmm, me too, bye'... I slept until at least noon, after that. Then I mooched around – I remember everything I did, even though I did nothing. I watched some TV, got told off by my dad for drinking milk straight out of the bottle... And I dropped a cup, that afternoon. It broke on the kitchen floor. Dad and I laughed about it, Mom had broken one just the other day. We cleaned up the mess and played cards – he'd been teaching me how to play poker, that vacation. Then we got ready to go to dinner. Mom had called earlier to say she would be running late and she'd meet us at the restaurant. We laughed at her again. Typical Johanna Beckett. We got to the restaurant at seven but she wasn't there. We waited for over an hour; I was mad at her. I remember that so clearly, my anger. She had promised she'd be there, I'd hardly seen her for the whole vacation and the one thing she'd promised to do and she wasn't there! So Dad and I had dinner without her, and then we went home... There was a detective waiting for us at the door. Detective Raglan. And he told us that she was dead." Rick was surprised at the lack of emotion in her voice. She was telling it as though it was a story, something that happened to someone else. Not something that had happened to her. "She had been stabbed in an alleyway. They found her lying in a pile of garbage, alone in this alley in Washington heights. I identified the body. My Dad couldn't do it, he didn't even come to the police station with me. He wasn't... I got our neighbour to sit with him; he was just spouting nonsense, gibberish. I saw her. She wasn't her any more though. She was so pale... but there was blood on the sheet. Blood had seeped through. I thought I'd be sick but I wasn't. I told them it was her but I wanted to tell them it wasn't. Because it wasn't, you know? I mean, it was her body, but... They asked me some questions. About what she was doing, the case, but I didn't know, I couldn't think anyway... I never went home. There was a man at the police station, morgue, whatever. He was very tall, old, but imposing, strong. He had a British accent. And after the cops were done, he told me that I should come with him. He said he worked for MI6, and that if I wanted, I was being recruited. He said going with him would protect a lot of people – my father, me, and people he worked for too. I asked him what my Mom could possibly have to do with MI6. He said he couldn't say, but I trusted him for some reason. I didn't have anywhere else to go, anyway. I mean, where else could I have gone? Home to my crazy father? I'd have gone crazy too. He said it was a limited time offer, that he was leaving that night, and that I would disappear. I was broken, I had nothing, my world had fallen apart – so I said yes. I got in his car, and into his plane, and never looked back. Well, hardly ever. It got easier... My father thinks I'm dead. I mean, officially I am. Kate Beckett died – they took some of my blood and put it in the trunk of a car, then dumped the car out by the river. Looked like another murder, they never found the body – but they made it look like I was at the bottom of the Hudson. It was so easy... So easy I tried to imagine ways my mother could be alive. I mean, I'd not actually touched the body... But I knew I would go crazy thinking that way. So she was dead. And Kate almost died too. Kate became Sierra."

She was still staring out into nothingness. Rick wished he could do something; hold her, comfort her – but she wasn't crying. She looked almost peaceful.

"I've never told that story before," she said quietly, as though she had read his thoughts. "It's almost relaxing. You know me now."

Rick wanted to say that he didn't, really; that this one event did not define her... But he kept quiet. It wasn't what she needed to hear. Not now.

"Why did you go with the guy? I mean, how could you be sure he was MI6?"

Kate blinked. "I wasn't sure. But I honestly didn't care. If he had been trying to kill me, I would have said bring it. At that moment I couldn't think of anything I had to live for. And I thought I'd find out. I mean, it was pretty clear he was from MI6 once we arrived in England – army base, all the people – impossible to fake."

Rick nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to put as much feeling into the words as he could; sure he sounded pathetic, very aware of the uselessness of the words against the horrors she had just recounted. She smiled gently.

"Thanks," she said – again using the simple word to convey far more emotion than its literal meaning.

"I wonder what you knew..." he said thoughtfully.

"Me too. I mean, I've tried to think of it, tried to work it out. I thought it must be something I said to the cops – and of course, I was sure, at first, that if I worked it out, I'd be able to solve the case. I used to check on it in the first few weeks. Random gang violence – that was how they closed it. I was so angry that day." She laughed, another flat, dead thing. "I swept a pile of plates off the table in the cafeteria. Someone said something, I don't even remember what, but I got mad and went crazy. I got better at controlling it, channelling the anger into strength. Make it a strength. That's what Victor used to say. You think it's a weakness? Make it a strength. We're all fucked up Sierra. It's what makes us special. He made me laugh. But really made. I didn't want to laugh. But I knew I had to. And it did make me feel better. It was fake, but some days I nearly believed I was okay."

Rick wondered if he too made her laugh. He didn't think so though. She seemed to read his mind.

"It's different with you. You're the first person I've ever... I've ever trusted enough, and the first person I've ever wanted to tell. It's not just that I have to. I... It feels good, kind of."

"You can tell me anything."

"I know. I want to tell you everything."

They were in a town now. Kate hadn't noticed. Rick pulled up in front of a huge mansion; it looked like a country house, old, but in beautiful condition. There was a little sign outside. She smiled and looked at him for the first time in a while. He smiled back.

"I promised you 5 star – and if there's one thing about me you should know, it is that I deliver."

Kate laughed, looking around in wonder as he parked the car. She tried to let her surroundings flood her mind, chasing all her other thoughts away. It didn't work. But it meant she could smile.

Rick organised everything about the room. They got it for free – the owner was a fan. Kate was worried this would give away their location, but Rick's logic was, if their attackers really had the owner of the Country House Hotel under their thumb, they were fucked anyway. He explained his desire to keep their presence quiet, and even managed to wangle a new car (with actual keys!) and anything else they might need during their stay. Kate began to think they shouldn't bother with the road trip. She laughed. She wasn't even certain which state they were in.

They went up to their room. It was even better than she had imagined. She bit her lip. She wished she could enjoy it, but they needed to start...

"What do we need?" Rick asked.

Kate looked around.

"Uhm... a whiteboard?"

"Genius. I'll call down," he said. Kate lay back on the huge bed. It was so soft, it was calling to her. The relief of finally... getting everything out there was exhausting. Rick looked at her. She blinked, and forced herself to sit up. He put down the phone and sat on the bed beside her, putting his arms around her and slowly guiding her back down to the bed.

"You need to sleep," he said quietly. "It'll still be here in the morning."

She made a noise of protest but he was already taking off her shoes and tucking her into the bed. He undressed and got in beside her; she was asleep before he'd turned the light off.