Summary: It's Castle's first September 11th with the 12th.
For our fallen heroes.
9/11 Traditions
As Castle walks into the 12th Precinct on a chilly September day, he can immediately feel the difference in the air. He nods his head at the officers he encounters in the lobby on his way to the elevator, but the mood is subdued, and it feels wrong to break the quiet, so he foregoes the small talk this time.
When the elevator doors open to the homicide division and he steps out, he almost thinks he's on the wrong floor. The bustle usually present in the bullpen isn't there, and instead just a quiet murmur of voices greets him as he rounds the corner.
His eyes sweep the room, and on every desk he sees the flicker of light.
Tea lights. In red, white and blue votives.
Flames? Inside a building?! No, wait – it's those flameless battery-operated tea lights.
But still, the sight is something to behold.
He knew today would not be business as usual, but he's still somewhat surprised by the impact the somber scene has on him.
He slowly weaves his way through the desks towards the one he has learned to call his second home, where he can see Beckett hunched over paperwork. While he is still a few paces away from her, he glances over to Ryan and Esposito and sees them talking in hushed tones, but they nod a welcome to him as they continue their conversation.
When he arrives at Beckett's desk, he carefully sets down a coffee in front of her before he seats himself in his own chair. Broken out of her concentration, she looks up at the cup that magically appeared in front of her and then graces him with a soft smile of thanks before lifting it to her lips.
"I wasn't sure if you'd be coming in today," she says softly before turning back to her paperwork.
He swallows, not really knowing how to take her statement. "Is – Is it okay that I'm here? It felt wrong to stay away..." He realizes he unconsciously matched her tone of voice, speaking quietly not to disturb the other officers, but also to keep their conversation as private as possible.
She looks back up at him again wide-eyed. "Of course. That's not what I meant." She shrugs then continues hesitantly: "It's just… most people have a certain way they like to spend the day… traditions… and I just figured that you probably had your own."
Castle can't stifle the breath of relief that escapes him at not being asked to leave. He smiles warmly and says: "True, but I thought it might be time for a new tradition." That vague statement only earns him a raised eyebrow as Beckett takes another sip of her coffee.
He doesn't want to bring the mood down too much, but he wants her to understand that he really wants to be here.
"The first year, I didn't really know what to do with myself, and just kind of wandered the streets aimlessly most of the day. I mean, Alexis was in school and at that point Mother wasn't living with us yet… It felt good to get out of my own head and be among people – among my fellow New Yorkers. Seeing them go on with their lives, moving on from the tragedy. Still remembering of course, but *overcoming*."
She nods in understanding, so he continues, "So, that's just how I usually spend the day. I take my laptop and sit in a deli or a café or the park and watch people. And write. Breathe New York air. Eat New York food. See couples hold hands. Watch kids play. See people smile and live their lives. It's soothing, and so very life-affirming." He pauses. "But, today… today I thought I'd rather be here." He's pleased to see her smile. "And you? How do you usually spend the day?"
She looks away, and nervously nibbles at her bottom lip. She hesitates long enough that he thinks she'll brush off his question or change the topic, but he's surprised when she actually answers. "I usually work." She sighs, then allows herself to elaborate. "Many of us volunteer for September 11th. We… work for those who can't."
Castle almost forgets to breathe. He can't believe she's shared that much with him – even in so few words – when she's usually so guarded. Then he holds his breath just a little longer in hopes that she will continue.
And to his great delight, she does.
"And I'm not just talking about the 23 NYPD officers who lost their lives that day, but also the 350 firefighters and paramedics, the port authority officers… really everyone." She graces him with another – although more forced – smile and finishes, "plus, it just feels right to be here. Be with fellow officers."
He smiles back and gestures at the fake flame flickering next to her elephant figurines at the edge of her desk. "Those look nice. Who came up with that?"
"Catano did. He came over from the 40th a few months afterwards, and on the first anniversary brought in a picture and a flameless candle for the officer they had lost there. The others liked the idea so much that by lunch everyone had lights. And it's been a departmental tradition ever since." She looks at her watch. "Talking about traditions, I should probably warn you that we'll be heading to the break room in a few minutes. Montgomery usually says a few words before we observe a moment of silence. You're welcome, of course."
"I'd be honored." With a nod, she returns to her paperwork and he watches her work for a minute or so.
But, he's craving more information.
"Were you at the 12th already, when it happened?" He just can't stop himself from asking her more details. He tells himself it is just his writer curiosity, and NOT Beckett-specific interest.
Yeah right.
"No, I was actually still at the academy." She leans back in her chair as she remembers. "I guess because of that I was probably spared a lot of the ground zero trauma that others experienced. But, I'll never forget our instructor's face when he told us what had happened. And the frantic phone call to my dad to make sure he was okay. It hit home when we found out that we lost one of the Academy Video Production Unit officers. In a way, it was worse not being there. So close to being a cop, but not quite yet. Not being able to help. But, as a Beat Cop I met so many who worked that day and during the aftermath."
Just as he is about to ask another follow-up question, the other detectives start rising from their desks.
"Time to head over, I guess," she says and stands as well. Esposito and Ryan fall into step beside them as they make their way to the break room.
When they enter, Castle looks around the room at the other officers. Some of them are lost in thought, while others are continuing their hushed conversations. He feels Beckett's hand on his shoulder blade as she pushes him further along the wall into the room, to make space for more officers entering.
While they wait for Montgomery, another drove of officers comes through the door and Beckett is squeezed closer to him, now near enough that their shoulders are touching. Considering the solemn occasion, he is thankful for the contact to provide him an anchor to the here and now.
Soon, Montgomery steps into the room and addresses his division. Listening, Castle once again looks around the room. Even just being with the 12th for a few months, he realizes that he knows almost every one of the officers in the room by name. He sees fine officers bowing their heads, accepting the words of solace their captain is offering, remembering those lost.
He's glad he decided to come to the precinct today, to witness this. To be with these people he has come to respect so much.
Yes, contrary to popular belief, he *does* realize he is not actually a cop. But, he's glad to have been adopted by the Homicide Division of the 12th Precinct.
He realizes it for the privilege it is.
Tomorrow, Beckett will go back to rolling her eyes at his antics and will grumble at his presence. Esposito and Ryan will hassle him for following Beckett around like a puppy dog.
But today, they are shoulder-to-shoulder. United. No, not just today, he thinks, but when it really matters. The rest is just white noise.
He takes a moment to promise the powers that be that he will try – emphasis on *try* – to be more helpful than obstructive during his time with New York's Finest.
And he vows to buy a pallet of the flameless candles to make sure the division's supply will last for many years to come.
A.N.: Hi All! Thanks so much for reading! This would not leave me alone until I put it down on paper, but then it decided to fight with me and didn't want to work itself out, so now I'm a few hours late to actually post this on 9/11. Anyway, I hope it turned out ok.
I had to make some assumptions on the post-Johanna-Beckett-murder and pre-12th timelines for Castle & Beckett, but I think it logically makes sense. If you're interested, PM me and I will sketch out the timeline for you that I came up with.
Tonight I had the privilege to hand out candles to our local town firefighters for our candle light memorial. They showed up with 2 engines and stood with us as we remembered those who died. It was one of the most touching and rewarding experiences in my entire life.
God bless our heroes who go to work everyday to serve and to protect us.