Unvanquished: Return

~Now~

She'd wanted to come alone. But it hadn't worked out that way.

She'd wanted to because she enjoyed the solitude and the independence ever since those years of weakness and frailty. She'd set out on her own often, had discovered the nooks and crannies and hidden beauties of her adopted home. She'd found her core of inner strength because her physical endurance had so often failed her.

It had seemed important to do this alone today. To say hello and good-bye in the one breath, and all on her own.

But at the same time, those years of not being strong enough, of being in hiding, of needing Castle to hold her baby for her or carry her up the stairs had created in her now a softer and more mellow approach to life.

She didn't need the reservation and stoicism to protect her anymore.

So even though she'd wanted to do this alone, Kate Rodgers carried the baby with her into the cemetery.

She brushed her lips across the warm forehead in appeasement, the baby's face pressed into her arm as the little thing peered out, eyes scanning and tracking the headstones as they passed. She tugged down the small cap, flicking one of its knitted bear ears, and those blue eyes startled to look at her before going back to their surroundings.

"I know. Never been to a cemetery before, huh, sweetheart?" It looked strange to her as well.

Kate shifted the baby, getting her forearm under that diapered bottom, tucked the blanket in a little tighter.

For a moment, her distraction disoriented her and the path seemed to twist in the opposite direction. She lost her bearings, had to stop in the middle of a row of Foxes and blink through the empty feeling of wrongness.

But when the baby squirmed and tried to roll out of her arms, it helped reestablish her familiarity. The moment passed, the baby let out a little frustrated whimper of hunger, and Kate realized she had to make it fast.

"Okay, sweetheart, I know. Soon." She cupped the small head against her chest and started walking. Soon her feet found their way through the maze of headstones and right to her mother's grave.

She'd wanted to come alone for this.

January 9th the headstone read.

This was the day her mother had been murdered.

This was the day Kate Beckett had been pardoned.

Kate was surprised at the hollow center to her grief, the way the nothing swirled like single, solitary snowflakes in a grey and lidded sky. Silent. Cold. Strangely beautiful.

Her mother's name was straight and fine, set into the stone just under the broader, deeper Beckett. It'd been so long, but her eyes traced the same lines, the same etchings, the same feeling of black regret that rose up in her.

Remorse. Guilt. For so many things and in so many ways, and even as she stood in her navy peacoat under a winter-blue sky, she didn't know what else there could be for her, for the two of them - Kate and her mother.

Being back here made the years vanish, erase just like that, made that old sense of injustice and unfairness choke her throat and break open her chest.

And then the baby stirred and made those sweet little sucking sounds at her collarbone, and Kate was herself again - her most true self - Kate Rodgers.

Not Kate Beckett.

That woman had died, and in her place this one had been reborn. A better woman. A wife. A mother. European and American both, world traveler and book reader and lover. She still drank coffee, she still loved a mystery, she still teased Rick Castle. But she was so much more now.

Kate fumbled at her coat pockets, tilting her body to keep the baby secure, and then pushed her fingers inside to find the cool strand of gold.

When she pulled out the necklace, the ring spun crazily at being freed, zipping fast like a ballerina en pointe, and then unwinding again. The baby stilled and watched as well, and after a moment, Kate swung the necklace out and caught the ring in her hand, closing her fingers over it.

She leaned forward, one hand cradling the baby's head, and pushed the ring into the dead winter grass at the base of the headstone. She dug easily, just enough to hide the glittering gold chain and the glint of diamond, and then she stood.

She pressed her lips to her fingertips and blew a kiss to the wind. Somewhere, somehow, the spirit of her mother had followed her no matter how far she was from this stone. And would always.

Then Kate Rodgers turned around and walked the wide path back to the front gate, her steps unfaltering, the baby warm at her chest.

Kate saw them at the gate, waiting on her, Castle with one hand pushed deep into his pocket, his other loosely holding on to Reese.

When the five year old saw her approaching on the path, she bounced up off the side of the car and leaned out against the leash of her father's hand, eager and full of questions. So many questions.

Kate smiled and came to them, leaving the cemetery behind.

Castle tucked the now-sleepy boy closer to his chest as they waited outside. He'd been fed, and Reese as well, but the adults were waiting until they got this over with. Their dinner would be a kind of celebration and homecoming.

Reese walked on her tiptoes over the cracks in the sidewalk and then spun around, her hair spilling in thick banana curls down her back. "Mommy, what about this place?"

Castle saw Kate glance at him to make sure he had the baby before she answered. "You know this one. Gendarmerie, commissariat de-"

"Oh yes. Police. Police station," she repeated. "Where you used to work."

"Good job, butter cup," Castle praised, reaching out with his free hand to skim his fingers through her hair and push it off her face. "Tell Mommy the word you learned while we waited for her."

"Mausoleum," Reese said with relish, her eyes growing wide and lighting up.

Kate laughed and rolled her eyes at him, but she was straightening the lapels of their daughter's coat, brushing invisible lint from the sleeve. He thought it was cute; Kate was nervous.

"Kate, hon, chill out."

She straightened and wrinkled her nose at him - or maybe at the baby; the boy wrinkled his nose back and laughed, stuffed a fist in his mouth.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Aren't I, Reese? Tell Daddy."

But Reese took her job seriously, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head, studying her mother up and down. "I don't know. There are clues that tell me a different story. Your hair is all special and you smell nice and you're wearing your boots. Daddy you call those what?"

"What do I call Mommy's boots?" He was still grinning over that clues tell me a different story line she'd used on her mother. Clever girl. He'd said the exact same to her about a week ago when she'd sworn up and down she hadn't been the one to color the wall in the back of her closet. The clues had told him a different story.

"Yes, Daddy, boots. Um, puissant. . ."

"Ah, power heels," he laughed, turning and giving Kate a wriggle of his eyebrows. "See? I learned some French."

"Daddy's French is lamentable," Reese said, coming back to them on the sidewalk with a little hop. "Atrocious, Daddy. It means atrocious."

"I figured," he said dryly, shaking his head at her.

Just then the door swung open and a Chief of Detectives that Castle didn't know was ushering them inside. "Please come in. You weren't supposed to stand outside waiting in the cold. I'm very sorry. The new security policies - it's such a mess."

When they were inside the lobby, Reese unbuttoned her coat first thing and gave a dramatic little shiver. "Mm, much warmer."

"What do you care, little peanut? You were dancing around out there and keeping plenty warm," Castle chuckled, cuffing her chin lightly.

She grinned up at him, that smirk of unrepentant mischief in her eyes. "Yes, Daddy, but he doesn't know that."

The Chief of Detectives barked out a laugh and took Kate's hand. "Detective Beckett, your daughter is adorable."

He could tell that Kate was already uncomfortable, so he reached out and snagged the squirelly Reese by the collar of her coat, tugged her into line beside him.

"I'm Rick," he said, releasing his daughter to hold out his hand for the man. "You're-?"

Their official NYPD representative shook hands warmly, politics in his every gesture. "William Benton, Chief of D's. It's nice to finally meet you. I was in a different precinct back when you two were here. Let's just say the NYPD has finally cleaned house."

Castle felt Kate nodding at his side and he shifted his hand back to Reese's collar, kept a loose hold of her just in case. The baby lifted his head from Castle's shoulder and gave the Chief of D's a long and intense stare.

That's right, son. He's still a part of the 'justice' machine that rolled right over your mother.

But the moment of distrust and paranoia passed, as it always did now for Castle, and Kate was smoothing her thumb at the crook of his elbow as if to gentle him.

She knew him too well.

It was strange to be back inside the 12th, but Benton was already leading them through security - waving them through actually - and pushing the call button for the elevator as he talked about all the changes that had occurred within the NYPD.

Kate reached down and took Reese's hand as they stepped onto the lift, seemed to be listening politely.

But not Reese.

She let it be known that she thought the man pretentious and boring.

Castle winced at her tone, even if he didn't quite know all the words. Oh well. At least she complained in French.

Kate shot a glare at their daughter and arched an eyebrow.

Yeah, true. The words might be unrecognizable, but the whine and the disdain definitely translated.

Still, the Chief of Detectives, though no doubt thrown by their daughter's French if that look on his face was any indication, seemed to get the hint and stopped talking about how much better it was in the city, how they'd cleaned up so much of the Dragon's network and finally got that conviction on the Dragon's usurper.

The same one who had set Kate up for murder.

Castle still wasn't happy about the waiver they'd signed to get back here. Yeah, she'd been pardoned, but they'd given away their right to sue the city over her incarceration, the years they'd been forced from the only home she'd ever known.

He might have agreed not to hold the NYPD liable, but he'd never forget it.

The elevator doors opened onto Homicide and the Chief of D's led them off, gesturing for Kate to go ahead of him into the bullpen. Castle caught a brief glimpse of everyone - Gates, Espo, Ryan, LT, Velasquez, more - before they were caught up in a rush of movement and noise.

The moment Kate stepped onto the floor, the place erupted in a standing ovation.