A Convergence of Storms

Summary – Someone from Castle's past is murdered and that gives Kate a look into his unconventional childhood and time spent shadowing the CIA, something that hasn't really been discussed on the show (yet). AU of course, with some grounding in canon.

Author's Notes – Hey, since I've now combined the 3 parts into 1, maybe I can make the 50,000 words for the Dog Days of Summer without Castle except for reruns, TNT, and the DVDs Ficathon 2014. Sorry for the confusion and the delay in updating – haven't had much time to write.

The singing story is actually a true story – it's how one of my friends became a singer, but he was 6 at the time his relative was taking him to bars. I'm not sure if his parents ever found out about the evening excursions though. And I was the big sister who put eye make-up on my little brother when my friends and I were putting the stuff on. He was about 5 and had these big brown Robert Downey Jr. eyes that just begged for blue eye shadow – didn't even have to sit on him to do it. It was like, "Hey, you want some too?" "Sure." Oh, the things older siblings do to younger siblings. And I still know nothing about New York so I'm just picking places from what I read on the internet. I did visit New York in 1979 (during the garbage strike – that was interesting) and did go up to the observation deck of the Empire State Building – fantastic view – and did go to the Statue of Liberty but didn't get to go up to the top.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. I am reading the spoilers though.

Chapter 14 – The Sins of the Father

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While Castle was getting dressed the next morning, Beckett walked out of the bedroom and was surprised to find Martha up and making coffee, bright and chipper in spite of the late evening they had had the night before.

After Castle's revelation, they had each taken turns telling stories from their childhood, reminiscing and laughing about the 'good, old days'.

"Good morning, Kate," Martha said as she looked over at her. "May I pour you a cup?"

Beckett paused for a moment, wondering how to get out of this situation diplomatically, and decided that it was just best to the take the coffee and dump it later. "Sure," she shrugged.

Martha poured the coffee into a cup and handed it to Beckett.

"Martha, I was wondering," Beckett said, wrapping her hands around the mug. "About the story last night, was there a time when you thought about letting Castle becoming an actor? To follow in your footsteps?"

Martha thought a moment and then shook her head. "No, it's not a life for everyone," she said with a slight smile. "Oh, don't get me wrong – he had the looks and the talent and a fairly decent singing voice, but he never really had the passion." She took a breath. "When he was young, the directors occasionally gave him small parts in productions, but he was always so fascinated by how things worked and had to know everything – which is disruptive during rehearsals – that they eventually asked him to help with something else rather than being on stage." She smiled as she took a sip of coffee. "And that always seemed to satisfy him."

Fastening his cufflink, Castle walked out of the bedroom. "Morning, mother," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "My ears are burning – you must be discussing me."

"In spite of last night, Richard, the world does not always revolve around you," Martha said, smiling good naturedly at her son, accepting the kiss on the cheek. "Well, dears, I'm off to class. Have a good day."

With that, whirl-wind Martha was gone, leaving a lull in her wake.

"Sorry," said Castle, making a face as he took the mug from Beckett's hand and poured the coffee in it down the sink. "Do we have time for me to make some more?"

Beckett looked at her watch and shook her head. "No, we'll just have to pick some up on the way to the interview."

Mr. Leonid Melekov was the man who belonged to the phone number on the piece of paper that Aunt Natie had given them. He was distressed when he heard about Armen and agreed to squeeze them in between appointments at his house in a gated community on the North Shore of Long Island.

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Mr. Melekov's house was the smallest in the subdivision, modestly appointed with a few works of medium-priced art on the walls, sparse furnishings in the rest of the rooms, almost like the unassuming man himself. He was in his early 70's, fairly trim, still in good health, a healthy head of gray hair cut short.

The focal point of the house, though, was the Bosendorfer Imperial grand piano that stood majestically in the living room, carefully positioned to not be in direct sunlight.

Melekov ran his hand lovingly over the keys as he walked past it. "I can't believe Mr. Tavitian is gone," he said, shaking his head sadly. "He was just here earlier this month, tuning this piano," he commented as he led Beckett and Castle into an adjoining sitting room.

"May I offer you something to drink?" he asked politely as they sat down.

Beckett shook her head. "No thank you, Mr. Melekov." She paused a moment. "His sister said that you called him to tune some more pianos a couple of days later?"

"Yes," nodded Melekov, in his slightly accented voice. "My passion is music and my business is buying and selling used pianos. My cousin passed away a couple of months ago and left me his pianos. They just arrived and were in desperate need of tuning. My cousin was somewhat of a ruffian and didn't tend to them well. Mr. Tavitian has…had a remarkable ear so I asked him to take the job."

"So when was the last time you saw Mr. Tavitian?" Castle asked.

Melekov thought for a moment. "Well, I only saw him when he was here tuning this piano. I arranged for a car service pick him up and take him to the warehouse where the other pianos are being stored."

"Do you have the address and the name of the car service that was used?" Beckett asked.

"Marlena made those arrangements and can get that information for you," Melekov responded, motioning to a woman who sat in the next room, quietly working but also keeping tabs on the interview.

She rose gracefully and walked quickly into the room.

"Ah, Marlena, please get the address of the warehouse where the pianos are and the name of the car service that took Mr. Tavitian there."

"Of course, Mr. Melekov," said the woman.

Melekov smiled as he watched Castle study a photograph in a leather frame, draped in black, on the table. The man in the picture was obviously sick, mortally so, shrunken, pale, a knitted cap covering his head, a sad smile on his face. The younger man beside him looked enough like Melekov to be a close relative, his long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"That was my cousin, Bogdan, and his son Alexi. That picture was taken a month before Bogdan passed away," Melekov said, shaking his head sadly. "He was not such a ruffian at the end." He paused. "It was good that he and Alexi had reconciled by then. Such a sad story, but the sins of the father are always reaped by the son."

He looked up as the woman walked back into the room, carrying a piece of paper. "Thank you, Marlena," he said, taking the paper and handing it to Beckett.

"How was Mr. Tavitian acting when he was here?" Beckett asked as she put the paper in her pocket. "Did he seem under any stress? Nervous?"

"No, quite the contrary, I would say. He was ecstatic," said Melekov. "It had been a while since he had played a Bosendorfer and he gave quite a concert after he finished tuning it. Such a talent…" he said, looking down.

"Do you mind if we take a look at the warehouse?" Beckett asked.

"No, not at all," Melekov said. "I'll call them to let them know you are coming. Marlena will give you a list of rules to be observed while at the facility. They are necessary to maintain the controlled environment and I would appreciate it if anyone entering the room follows them. The pianos can be very finicky if not handled properly."

Beckett stood and shrugged slightly. "Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Melekov," she said. "If you think of anything else, please call."

"Yes, I will," the man said, nodding. "Detective, Mr. Castle."

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As they walked to the car, Castle looked back at the house and then at the piece of paper in his hand. "Wow, talk about overprotective. The way he talks about them, you'd think they were alive."

"To him, they might be. I didn't see any pictures of children in the house," Beckett replied.

"Good point," said Castle. He paused for a moment as he opened the car door and then slid into the passenger's seat. "Kate, am I this way with my stuff?"

Beckett rolled her eyes as she opened her door and slid into the driver's seat. "No, other than threatening to tar and feather Espo when he spilled beer on your Playstation."

"Point taken," nodded Castle as he read the list and snorted. "Limit 3 people in the room at any time – apparently having more people in there raises the room temperature and humidity level. Wear white cotton gloves – hmmm, maybe I should make that a rule. I think Ryan left some grease smudges the last time we played. No smoking, food, or drinks – no, that wouldn't work, although it was hard to get the beer out the controls."

Beckett smiled at him as she pulled out into traffic.

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Beckett watched Castle out of the corner of her eye as they drove back to the precinct. After reading the list, he was atypically quiet, as he had been several times since the almost wedding and kidnapping.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she finally asked, causing him to jump slightly. "Hmmm?"

Castle stared out the windshield for a moment longer before beginning hesitantly. "Even though I gave the big speech, I can't help thinking about everything that's happened lately." He took a breath. "Kate, do you think Melekov was right – that the universe punishes the sons for the sins of their fathers? Because my father has racked up quite a collection of them."

Castle almost got whiplash as Beckett quickly jerked the car towards an exit and then pulled off the freeway and parked in a safe spot.

After she turned off the car, she whirled to face him, her eyes wide, and poked him in the chest. "Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle, that is the most insane and crazy thing I have ever heard you say. You are not your father." She leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "You are a good, honorable man. And if that's what the universe is doing, then screw the universe."

Castle kissed her back. "Well, I was never a big believer in signs from the universe," he smirked.

Beckett huffed at him and then started the car again.

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Ryan and Espo were just pulling into the parking garage at the same time Beckett and Castle were.

"So how did the interview go?" Espo asked.

"Got the address of the warehouse where Uncle Armie may have been last," Beckett replied as she handed them the piece of paper with the address. "They're expecting you," she said, looking at Espo and Ryan.

"Oh, and here," said Castle, fishing the list of rules out of his pocket. "You'll need this."

Ryan frowned slightly as he opened the piece of paper and quickly scanned it. "Uh, are we allowed to breath while in there?" he asked somewhat seriously.

"Just try not to sneeze," said Castle. "The pianos might catch cold."

His phone chirped, interrupting the conversation.

Castle fished it out of his pocket and read the text and then looked at Beckett. "That's – uh – my publisher – you know, for that afternoon meeting…"

Beckett nodded, pressing her lips together and frowning slightly. "See you at the loft tonight?" she asked, the question catching Espo's and Ryan's attention.

"Yeah," said Castle, also frowning and looking at the black town car waiting at the corner. He gave Beckett's hand a slight squeeze and then walked off.

"So what's the meeting about?" asked Espo.

Beckett swallowed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before quickly saying, "Contract negotiations."

"With his tail tucked between his legs?" Ryan asked, also frowning slightly. "That's the way he looks when Gates calls him into her office."

"Yeah," said Espo. "So exactly what contract is he 'negotiating'?"

Beckett cleared her throat at them. "A comedy about two male detectives who get busted back to patrol," she said to Espo. "Don't you have a date with piano?"

Espo snorted slightly and then nodded. "So when are you going to tell us what's going on?"

Beckett looked at them innocently and shook her head slightly. "Nothing's going on."

"Uh, huh," said Espo, looking at Ryan.

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