A/N: Hi! This is a post finale one shot and I hope you will enjoy it. Please leave a review if you want to! Thank you :D Edit: I have decided to continue it as a two-shot. Next (and final chapter) will be posted by saturday.
Listening
For the hope, for the new life
Something beautiful, a new chance
Hear its whispering there again
-Whispering, Spring Awakening
The wedding
The orange flames licked at the Mercedes, flickering and dancing in the wind.
It was a majestic sight, the flames strong and wild, uncontainable.
The woman in a white wedding dress stood before the burning car, her back stiff with shock, barely breathing.
A strangled cry escaped from her rose tinted lips.
Pained, devastated, broken.
…...
One month after the wedding
Kate Beckett finally understood why her father drank. She had promised herself not to go down the same path. She remembered how miserable her father was, how reliant he was on his alcohol, how addicted he was. She remembered the way he would stagger home drunk, the stench of alcohol filling the stale air. He would collapse on the beer stained sofa, muttering to himself incessantly. Sometimes, he had his outbursts; shouting at cursing at the wind, glass bottles shattering around him.
She had to bail him out of jail way too often. Seeing her father behind the bars, caged and chain like an animal when he was just too drunk to function.
She was angry, tired and lonely. She was afraid and there was no one there to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be fine. She had to pick her father's broken pieces up while she was broken herself. No one could help her pick up her jagged pieces. She had to do it herself.
She had lost her mother and she did not want to lose her father. So she had begged, she had yelled, she had do anything in her power to wake her father up, to stop him from drinking, to send him to rehabilitation. It took years of tears, frustration, cold words and patience to save her father from his drinking addiction, before she could have her father back.
But here she was, drinking shots after shots, as if they were water. The cold acidic liquid burned her throat, warming up her body and numbed her heart. She did not have to feel. The pain, the fear, the loneliness, the despair were dulled by the drumming in her head. The lightness of her head, the heaviness of her limbs, the blurred vision… It felt miserable, but at least she could forget. For a moment, the world only consisted of her and the alcohol in front of her.
There was no more pain.
There was no more fear.
There was no more loneliness.
There was no more emptiness.
There was no more sadness…
Who was she kidding?
It hurt. It hurt so much.
She could feel every fibre of her body, every cell, screaming in pain, washed by waves of sadness, fresh thick sadness that drowned her.
Her chest constricted and a sour rancid taste filled her mouth. She scrambled up, sweeping the contents of the table off. The sound of breaking glass rang in her head and she winced.
Beckett managed to reach the toilet before it was too late, vomiting out all the contents of her empty stomach.
She fell back onto the cold tiles, her hand running through her hair, her mind whirling.
She was so damn pathetic. She had allowed herself to be controlled by alcohol, the very demon that had almost taken her father away from her.
But then again, she had no one else now.
For sixteen years, she had been obsessing with her mother's case, driven by the motivation that she would one day, maybe one day find the killer.
It took her years in between to get over her mother's death, then even more years to stop hoping for a new breakthrough.
Then Castle came along and ripped open that wound again. And again. But he helped her. He made her better. He exposed her infected wounds and slowly healed them.
Now, he was gone too.
No more Castle.
People always left.
She was so fucking angry, so fucking furious at herself. She wasn't supposed to be this weak. She wasn't supposed to be a mess.
But her fiancé died on the day of her wedding.
The man who she loved, the man who saved her, the man who was always there, beside her, was dead.
His funeral was a quiet affair. She could not remember much, except for the hushed whispers and sympathetic gazes.
At least there was Martha and Alexis.
They were so strong, so very strong.
She did not know how they did it, to look perfectly fine on the outside when their insides were upside down.
Actually, she knew.
It had always been her.
The funeral made his death seem real, finalised. The last chapter of a book.
She could not breathe.
Her world had collapsed in just a matter of seconds.
She leaned against the wall and wished she could cry.
She had run away whenever things were bad. She had run away once more.
…...
Two months after the wedding
Kate could not recognise the woman staring back at her. She had sunken cheeks, heavy eye bags that hung lifelessly underneath the dull irises. Her hair was a mess, plastered and lifeless, loosing it's luster. She lifted up an arm, bony and thin.
Kate had lost too much weight.
She splashed the cold water against her face and pulled back her hair into a low ponytail. She found some clothes to wear, clothes that were still clean and unstained. Stepping over piles of dirty laundry and empty bottles, she grabbed her bag, left the apartment and hopped into a cab, leaving for the precinct.
"Beckett," they had all greeted her cautiously, tip toeing around her like she carried a form of infectious disease, as if a touch would shatter her. Even Captain Gates was awfully cautious around her.
Beckett. She was still a Beckett.
Not a Castle.
She sat at her desk and went over the paperwork, trying not to let her gaze fall upon that empty chair next to her. She had to focus. She had to work. She had to forget.
Ryan and Esposito were quiet, sneaking glances at her behind her back.
She could feel their stares.
She knew they were concerned and worried for her but she couldn't bear it.
The phone rang and she sighed in relief.
A new dead body. A new case. Something else to focus on.
"Girl! You look horrifying!" Lanie exclaimed when she saw Kate.
Kate managed a small smile, slightly comforted by her friend's straightforwardness. She needed that.
"So what have we got here?" Kate asked.
"Male, early 40s with a clean slit to his throat."
Kate nodded and stepped closer to the body, lowering herself to examine it.
Her stomach churned.
Her head floated.
Bile rose, filling her mouth.
She ran, gagging, throwing up all over the drain nearby. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, her head spinning, twirling over and over.
"Beckett, you all right?" someone asked her.
She took in a deep breath, steadying herself. "Yeah. I'm fine. Must have been something I ate."
She did not eat at all.
She picked herself up and walked back to the crime scene, her mind fuzzy and her legs wobbly. She could not breathe.
…...
"Katherine dear, you should eat more," Martha chided her gently.
"I'm fine, really. Thank you," Kate replied, setting down her fork. Her salad was a mess, being stabbed at and stirred about without being eaten.
"When was the last time you ate?" Alexis cut in, her question sharp and straight to the point.
Kate stilled.
When was the last time she ate?
"Thursday morning," she suddenly felt so small, like a child being scrutinised by her teachers.
"Kate," Alexis sighed, pleading and disappointed at once. It had been three days since Kate had last ate. Three days.
Where had the Detective she knew gone to? The Detective she had looked up to, the Detective that she trusted, the Detective who was so strong and calm no matter what.
"Eat."
Kate lifted up her fork, putting a piece of lettuce and tomato into her mouth. She forced herself to chew and swallow, her stomach churning.
She should be the strong one here.
Not Alexis, not Martha.
They had lost a father, a son. They should not be the one trying to help her, trying to fix her.
"Richard would want you to be healthy and happy, Katherine. He would have wanted you to live."
"Kate, move back in," Alexis said, "please." She gripped Kate's hand, shocked at how bony and brittle it felt.
"I need you."
Kate's eyes widened at the young girl's words, soft, brittle, pained.
She nodded, tears brimming her eyes.
"Oh come here darling." Martha moved over to Beckett and enveloped her into a big hug.
"You are one of us," Alexis smiled and joined in the hug.
They stayed there for a moment, the three Castle women together as one family.
…...
Three months after the wedding
Martha was the first one who noticed it.
Kate was getting thinner every day, despite their greatest efforts to make her eat healthily. She still ate little but at least she drank less.
While Kate's limbs were shrinking, her stomach was increasing in size, a small bulge. And she felt nauseas often, with pangs of dizziness.
"Katherine, when was the last time you had your period?" Martha had pulled her to a side and asked her quietly, straight to the point.
Kate paused, shocked by the older Castle's question.
"F-Four months ago."
Realisation dawned on the Detective.
But it couldn't be. She couldn't be…
She mustn't be….
"I think you should see a doctor, to make sure…" Martha trailed off.
"Yea," Kate whispered, fear settling in the depths of her heart.
…...
The test came back positive.
She did not know what to do, what to feel.
She was numb, gripping the papers in her hands, fear and happiness pulsating through her veins. What was she going to do?
She had to tell Martha. And Alexis.
She had to.
But first, she had to eat.
She went to a restaurant and ordered a salad and a soup.
She had to start eating healthily. No more skipping meals. No more drinking.
She had to be healthy again.
She forced the food into her mouth, forkful after forkful, spoonful after spoonful, chewing and swallowing to an invisible rhythm in her head.
She had to eat. She had to eat. She had to eat.
Her hand fell to her stomach, feeling the small bulge that formed.
There was a life in there, a new life.
Watching the life move in her on the screen was surreal. Hearing the heartbeat made it real.
She was pregnant. There was a life forming in her, growing in her.
A Castle. She was pregnant with a Castle.
Tears formed in her eyes and fell, dripping down her sunken cheeks.
She had to be healthy. She had to eat. She had to stop drinking.
She had almost killed her baby.
But oh god, what should she do?
She had no idea how to be a mum, how to care for a baby, how to…
How could she care for a baby when Castle was no longer by her side?
She wanted him to be there, with her. To hold her hand as they went for ultrasounds, to stroke her stomach and whisper sweet nothings to it. To press his ear against her stomach and listen to their baby.
He would be such a wonderful father, just like he was to Alexis.
He would be so proud, so happy.
But he wasn't here. Not anymore. He was gone.
Gone.
But…
But there is still part of him left, inside of her, growing, living. And she neededit. The baby needed her. And she needed her. The baby was alive.
Like a seed in a barren land starting to grow, the baby was hope.
The baby gave her hope.
Hope for a new life, for a new beginning.
Hope.