Downfall

Post 6x23

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or any of its characters. It's purely Andrew Marlowe's.

"She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum."

Jonathan Safran Foer

When the black SUV rammed its head down Castle's car, he had collided with the airbag, his nose in a stream of blood as his car rapidly ran circles, trying to control of what was left of the burnt tires. He had absolutely no idea where he was trying to drive.

Just away. And fast.

He saw swirls of green and grey as he smelled burning from the tires. The car was spinning impossibly fast and trying to control the car was hopeless. He quickly fumbled for his pocket out of instinct as the vision of the black SUV surged towards him like a looming giant. He quickly got their marriage license out as the car slammed into him.

His last thought was of Kate as he threw the license out of the shattered window. His helpless body flung against the car; bruises forming, his body contorted in uncomfortable positions, blood escaping his forehead, scarlett smearing on the broken pieces of glass. The car spinned down the ditch, angry thorns and thick green shrubs welcoming the car.

The license quietly lay, not so far from the accident. The doors of the black SUV opened and people wearing black masks walked out and headed for Castle.


Kate held it in her hands, slightly dirty but otherwise unharmed: their marriage license. The stranger who had found the fiery sight of the car had picked it up after calling the police. They ran the names and got a hold of her number.

And here she was.

Here he wasn't.

Her knees threatened to give in again. Like herself.

She let out an anguished sob as she saw the official words that would have soon bonded him as hers. To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. For better, for worse. Until death do they part.

Would have.

She could only watch as her life fell apart around her.

Sounds and voices are distant, except the fiery crackle of the fire below. It licked the car until it was no longer one, but charcoal. Worthless. Nothing. Like the space in her suitcase for their honeymoon. Like the space in her heart that's not held by Castle. Nothing. Until Kate was no longer herself, but the parts crumbling around the fiery devil.

The tape and glue in the quintessence of her being unceremoniously flew apart and her knees gave in. She fought for air as her lungs crackled and she racked out a sob. Her heart strained, feeling as though her insides have given up, veins and arteries wrapping around her heart, refusing to work. Constricting her. Her lungs too, closing in on itself, the space inside for air. Nothing.

She heaved, fighting for air, her eyes wide with panic, sobs storming down her snow white dress. The dress spread out around her like a crumpled umbrella.


Life happened around her.

Torturously slow.

Faster than she could say goodbye.

Beside her stood Lanie who had helped her up, supporting her as they taped off the crime scene. The fire had now ceased, with the fire department coming and going. They were replaced by the Hamptons Police. They had said there was a man in the driver's seat, around the same build and height as Castle's. Numb. She's numb.

Faceless men came and went as she gave her statement. All too soon she was back to staring at the charred car. She thought she had lost the way to properly breathe. It was all either trying to take as much in or nothing. When she forgot to breathe she'd gasp for air to comfort her lungs but it took her great effort as she was drained of everything. She did nothing but she was drained of everything.

Helpless.

She wished she could do anything, anything to bring him back. To make sense of what the hell just happened.


She held no memory of being back in their bedroom in the beach house. She was staring into the grey, mysterious wisps of the clouds and the empty sprays of the ocean. Her chest was suddenly tight. Her body lacking oxygen. She inhaled greatly, feeling the seemingly inevitable bouts of hyperventilation. Her heart clenched; every breathe she took seemed to go straight through her. Eyes wide, she clutched her chest and tried to breathe as deeply as she could. It did nothing. She needed more.

It was getting worse. She knelt down, trying to get leverage over her panic attack, sobs escaping her. The wedding dress was constricting her. She clawed for the zipper but it was stuck. She started ripping against her dress, desperate for air, desperate for freedom from their rough day.

Lanie rushed in. She saw Kate on the floor who was a sobbing, frantic mess. "Oh, honey." She whispered. "Just take a slow- slow, Kate, a slow deep breath. I'll take those off you."

Kate, with one palm against the carpet and the other clutched tight against her chest, heaved for air. Lanie swiftly pulled down the zipper and she felt the cool, chilly air against her skin. As she breathed, Lanie helped her stand up to remove the dress. She swiped the pearl bracelets off, along with the blue earrings Martha had given her, and placed them in their boxes. She took out the hair pins from the loose bun and her curly hair took over. She handed her a pair of pyjamas and said, "Kate. Hey. I know nothing any of us can say would make you feel better but just call me if you want to talk or need anything, alright?"

Kate nodded, feeling numb, watching the hopeless waves crash on the shore and back out again. Lanie left and she was completely alone. With her self-destructive thoughts. He died alone, she thought.

She chanted this thought for several hours until Lanie came in to check on her.


Just three days and she was back in her apartment. Everything had been packed and returned, leaving the Hamptons in a swift daze. She told Martha she needed some peace to think things through, without everything reminding her of Castle at the loft.

She was wrong. It was just as worse here.

She could see him in everything. Missed him everywhere. In fragments like shards of glass. In the quietness of her couch, the cold distance of her kitchen, the absence of his warmth against her turtleneck. The mug where his lips would touch every morning, besides hers. The quiet cycle of patter and pauses whenever he was writing. She felt him heavy in her veins, in her stomach, like putting milk on coffee, swirling, swirling; in constant, stinging cycles.

It was the worst in her bedroom. He was the air that supported life in the now desolated room. He was her favourite smell, the candle that told her he was right beside her. It's suffocating. And comforting.

She now stared at her bookshelf sitting on her couch with his books standing out like the light under tunnels. But now it seemed dimmer, empty.

She felt a surging tide of emotions. And.

Nothing.

Like the waves crashing in to the shore and pulling back.

She didn't hear at first. It was very weak. It was like slowly breaking into the air, coming up from the depths of the blue.

It kept coming. Knock after knock. Weak, but it was there.

She absentmindedly stood and walked to the front door, undoubtedly it were Ryan and Esposito, or Lanie bringing food, or news.

She opened the door.

Scarlett masses of blood welcomed her. It took her a several seconds.

Castle. Alive.

Here.

He was leaning against the wall, barely standing. He was covered in dirt and angry imprints of bruises had started blossoming on his skin and disappeared under his dark, dishevelled clothes. He tried standing, did so for a moment, until he collapsed on Beckett, holding her so tightly it snaps her back straight to reality. A punch of emotions reached her and she crumbled under his touch. She helped him to the floor, his weak body shaking. She embraced him tighter, surely hurting him but he made no comment.

"Kate. Sorry I missed the wedding. Tyson. He took me. Nieman." He started coughing, vivid, dark blood spraying on his palm.

"So dark. He said things. Did things. It's… okay, I'm here now. I love you, Kate. God, I missed you… so much." He said in a desperate strain as though there wouldn't be another opportunity to say them. His voice, god his warmth, had her choked up and she was at a loss for words. A sudden stinging sensation in her eyes and she was crying.

"It went for… so long. I was so tired, Kate. I woke up in an alley. I have no idea why. Yours was… closest. Found… you." He was breathless, still coughing, his mouth canvased with blood.

It felt as though she was alive once more. When she thought he had died, alone, the parts of him wound around her, kept her together, had died with him. But he was here. Alive. With her.

It felt as though she could never sigh the amount of relief that she felt at the depths of her chest, the tips of her fingers, the dizzying thought swirling in her head.

He was okay. They were okay. She looked at him, on the verge of tears, relieved, overwhelmed, elated. He understood, his eyes saying it all. She sobbed on the curve of his neck, releasing the tides that raged her depths. Never letting go.


Thanks for reading! Thoughts?