Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. Never have, never will. I do own Mr. & Mrs. Fitic though... they were in my story Words Words Words.

Athazagoraphobia - The fear of forgetting

Kate Beckett didn't fear many things. She wasn't afraid of heights, or deep open water. She wasn't afraid of spiders, or the dark, or dying. No, Kate Beckett wasn't afraid of much, but she was scared of certain things.

She was afraid that something would happen to Castle while they were working a case. She feared ever having to tell Alexis and Martha that Rick wasn't coming home. She was afraid that they would hate her for failing to protect him. She was afraid that her father would start drinking again. She feared what would happen to her if she lost him. Yes, Kate was scared of all those things, but there was one thing that Kate was absolutely petrified of.

Kate Beckett was terrified by the thought of forgetting her mother.

Ever since her murder so many years ago, Kate had made it a point to remember everything about her mother. She looked through old photographs daily to memorize the way she smiled. She would read her favorite books over and over again until she knew the dog-eared pages and highlighted passages by heart. She watched home videos for hours at a time to commit the sound of her laugh to memory. She had filled up a journal entirely with conversations she could remember them having, memories of their days together, and the seemingly infinite wisdom of the wonderful woman who haunted her dreams.

And then her apartment had blown up.

Many of her old photographs had been incinerated. Some of the books had been destroyed. Old VHS tapes had been rendered unusable because they had melted during the explosion, and her journal could never be found.

And while she tried her hardest, Kate had started to forget. She could remember what her mother smelled like, but her scent had started fading from the things in Kate's apartment that used to belong to her, tinged with the scent of smoke which seemed to suffocate her mother's memory. She remembered her handwriting, but the notes in the margins in the remainder of Johanna's books and the words in her date books and old birthday cards were becoming lighter and lighter everyday.

Johanna Beckett was slowly fading away, and there was nothing Kate could do to stop it.

But Kate was determined not to let herself forget. She couldn't let herself forget. If Kate forgot the way her mother's voice sounded, she couldn't just call her and talk for an hour. If Kate forgot what she looked like, she couldn't go out to lunch with her. If Kate forgot her, she was truly gone; and she couldn't let that happen.

So, in an effort to stop forgetting, she had started sharing her memories. Kate found herself telling Castle about the time when she had her tonsils out and they watched Temptation Lane together for hours. She wanted to tell him about the time they had made Christmas cookies in August and almost succeeded in burning the house down. She wanted to tell him about the time Kate had been pulled over while driving and Johanna, the lawyer, had told her to shamelessly flirt her way out of it (because "using your femininity is never a crime."). She wanted to tell him about when her mother first discovered that she had bought a motorcycle and had dragged Kate and the bike to the local pastor to have them both blessed with Holy water.

Kate wanted him (and everybody else) to know what an incredible woman her mother had been. How she was just, and honest, and always willing to help anyone in need. Someone had to know about the time they had found a stray kitten outside of their apartment building and Johanna had snuck the cat into the apartment in her briefcase and nursed it back to health until they found someone who could adopt it. Someone had to know that she used to mentor underprivileged kids on Thursday nights, before she'd go home and help Kate with her homework.

She even wanted everyone to know the less-than-flattering things she remembered about her mother. Kate wanted people to know that her mother used to make an awful tuna casserole that had made her and her father physically sick on more than one occasion. She wanted them to know that Johanna's nostrils used to flare whenever she was yelling at someone. She wanted them to know that Johanna Beckett snored so loudly that occasionally Kate would wake up in the morning to find her father asleep on the couch in the living room with earplugs in.

Because maybe (just maybe), if she shared these memories with someone, she wouldn't forget. If someone else had memories of her mother, maybe they wouldn't forget. There has to be someone in the world who knew that she existed. Someone had to know that Johanna Beckett was a daughter, a wife, a lawyer, and a mother who changed people's lives. If people knew that, then it proved that Johanna Beckett was real. She wasn't just an imaginary friend that Kate had made up when she was a child to replace someone who was never there. Johanna had been a living, breathing person that loved her family and her job and now she was gone. But she was real.

One of Kate's most vivid memories is something she remembers from when she was 3. Kate and Johanna had spent the day at the park and had left to go to a local ice cream shop to get something sweet because Kate wasn't feeling well. After they had eaten, Kate had realized that she had left her coveted blanket with her favorite scene from Rapunzel embroidered on it and she had started to panic. Her mother picked her up and they walked back to the park to look for it, but it was useless. The blanket was nowhere to be found, and with so many people constantly moving through the park, there was no way to tell when it had been picked up or by whom. So Johanna, sensing her daughter's impending emotional breakdown, took Kate by the hand and led her to an obscure, hole-in-the-wall bookstore. Johanna had greeted the couple standing behind the counter and had introduced them to Kate as Mr. and Mrs. Fitic. Then she carried her up a flight of stairs into another room filled with books, grabbed a few children's books, and sat down with Kate in her lap and started to speak to her.

"You see these books, Katie?"

Kate remembers nodding her head.

"All these books used to belong to someone."

Kate had looked at her mother in amazement, "ALL of them?"

Johanna nodded, "Mhm, every single one. But then they lost them. But Mr. and Mrs. Fitic found them, and they put them here. See Katie, lost things get found everyday."

That was the day Kate had fallen in love with books. Johanna had been such an instrumental part of her life, and forgetting her was something Kate would never forgive herself for. Kate needed to know that all those good times would never be forgotten. She wanted people to know the person behind the name; the mind behind the face that has a permanent spot on her wall. She wanted other people to remember her. Not because she was murdered, but because she was alive.

So when Castle leaned over one day when she was doing paperwork and asked her if she could have any one wish, what would it be?, instead of blowing him off and rolling her eyes like she usually did, she seriously thought about what he had just asked. She could wish that her dad would stay sober, but if it ever came to a point where he needed an outlet, he would just find something else to deal with the pain. She could wish that he would listen to her when she tells him to stay safe, but she knew he'd hurt himself some other way (and she secretly wanted to be there if he hurt himself, so she could take care of him). She could wish for another day with her mother to renew her memories, or wish that her mother was alive again to make new memories, but then she'd eventually have to say goodbye again. Her mind drifted towards her earlier thoughts, and Castle watched her bottom lip fall away from her teeth into a beautiful smile as she looked at him.

"I wish you could've met my mother," she said. "She would've loved you."

Castle didn't think it'd be possible to stop his vision from blurring, even if he wanted to. He knew she meant what she said. He wished that he could've met the woman who was such an important part of his detective's life. Of all the things she could've wished for, the last thing he expected was for her to share her mother with him. He tried to keep his voice even when he responded.

"If she's anything like you," he said softly, but with conviction. "I know I would've loved her, too."

Rick didn't think it was possible for her smile to grow any bigger. "Have I ever told you…" she said, still smiling, "about the time my mom found out about my motorcycle?"

Alright, so I literally sat down to do my AP Stat homework and inspiration finally struck, so I did this instead (probably a poor life decision in the long run).
I hope this all makes sense? lol
Anyway, these next few weeks are going to be crazy busy, so I apologize in advance because I probably won't be updating much.
But I digress...
Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think (: