There was a cliché about New York being the city that never slept. In many ways, he supposed that was true. But now, it might as well be sleeping. The world had gone silent in the moment that her eyes had widened in pain.

He no longer heard the blares of car horns, the endless sound of vehicles whooshing past. No more did the wails of sirens penetrate his consciousness. Even his apartment had fallen silent. The keys on his computer no longer clicked out the rhythm to his writing, as all urge to write had vanished.

It was like he was suffering from writer's block, but now it was much, much worse. There was only one way the brick wall that was stopping his writing would move.

Castle put his head in his hands, blocking his face from the sunshine of the day. What a mockery this world had become. How could the weather be so happy when he was in his own private hell?

Not that the others weren't suffering. He saw it on their faces whenever he visited the police station. First the Captain, now this. Only he, Ryan and Esposito knew why exactly the Captain had died, but knowing made it all the worse.

The days since the Captain's funeral had run together like a watercolor painting that hadn't yet dried. The black nights mixed into the bright days, all entwining together into a horrible dayless, weekless, monthless existence.

Castle no longer knew what day of the week it was, nor did he care. A beard had grown on his face but there was no point to shave it off. He knew that he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it. Alexis was the only thing that kept him going, that made him get out of bed in the morning.

He had been lectured many times over by his mother that he needed to get on with living, that mourning Kate was okay, but he needed to step into the world. He had almost laughed in her face. How could he step into the world when everything he saw reminded him of her? Just passing a Starbucks reminded him of how he'd bring coffee for them every single day. A look at his computer reminded him of Nikki Heat, the character he based on her spunk and fire.

But now there was no spunk and fire to fuel on the novel. Now, however he tried to end it, it only ended one way.

Her eyes flashed into the forefront of his memory. The sheer agony in her hazel eyes was burned into his memory. As was the anguish he felt at letting her take the hit. He saw the glare. He should have gotten in front of her, knocked her over. She would have been angry, but at least…

Castle shook the thought from his mind. He had blamed himself enough. There was nothing he could do now.

He walked over to the window and stared out of it, looking onto the silent traffic below. Something was niggling at him, a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time. He wanted to write.

Slightly amazed, Castle sat down behind his desk and opened his laptop. His fingers automatically started typing, without him even thinking. He wrote like this for what seemed like hours until finally, a new chapter had been typed out. Castle printed out the last page and read it.

The world went quiet around her as the bullet ripped its way through her body. She tried to speak, but she couldn't. He was staring at her from above, begging her to stay, but there was something deep within her, telling her she couldn't.

Nikki wanted to fight this, but she was far too weak. Blood was flowing from her chest and the pain was overwhelming. How could she fight any longer, when all she wanted was sleep? Her eyes started to close, but his pleas grew louder.

"Nikki! No. Stay with me Nikki. I know you can fight."

She tried to smile at him. He was hers, no matter what anyone thought. Sure he drove her insane on occasion, but he was her nuisance.

"I love you Nikki. Stay with me."

It was finally out in the open. She was dying, but he had finally said it. He loved her.

"Please," he whispered.

For a moment the excruciating pain went away and she stared right into his eyes, trying to convey what her body would not let her speak. She was longing to tell him that she loved him back, to run her hands through his hair and lose herself in his scent. But the sleep was tugging at her. She had to go.

Finally, Nikki gave in to the darkness and faded away, leaving him behind, all the things she wanted to say, unsaid.

Castle stared at the page a few minutes before standing suddenly and grabbing his coat. He knew what he had to do. He grabbed the coffee cup out of the cupboard that was 'hers,' leaving it empty.

Without a word to his mother or Alexis, he left the building, determination flowing off of him in waves. He squinted his eyes against the sun, his hasty departure meaning he forgot his sunglasses. Not that it mattered, he could find the place he was looking for with his eyes shut.

The cemetery was exactly the same as it had been the last time he visited. The rows of headstones stood in perfect rows, each one commemorating a different officer that had died in the force. He strode past row after row to where the newer graves were. He spotted Captain Montgomery's grave and stood there a moment, paying his silent respects. There were flowers on the grave, a sign that he was still remembered.

Castle walked down the row to the last grave in the line. The grass had grown over the grave, but one could hardly tell with the massive amounts of flowers and bouquets that covered it. He stared at the epitaph for a moment, smiling coldly at how impersonal it was.

Katherine Beckett
May 3rd, 1978- May 16th, 2011
Daughter of Robert and Johanna Beckett

He thought they might add more about her being a hero, but there was nothing but those three etched lines. The only reminder that she had lived, and it didn't define her at all.

Castle knelt next to the grave, unscrewing the cap of the coffee cup and dropping the last page of his novel in.

"That's for you, Kate," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "You can be the first to read it."

With that, he put the lid back on and set it next to her headstone.

"Goodbye, Kate," he murmured before standing up and leaving the cemetery.

There was a cliché about how New York was the city that never slept. Before May 16th, he had always figured it true. But now, he knew, there were more people sleeping in New York that anyone realized. One woman had sent his world silent, and silent it would remain until the day that he joined her in her eternal rest.