Woebegone Until Tomorrow, By CastleCoffee13

Sorry for your loss.

She's said it so many times before to so many different people. Her job required the common phrase to be among her every-day vocabulary. If she chose to think about it, she'd probably realize that she has said it in the same tone of voice each time. Now this doesn't mean that she doesn't care; no, nothing of that sort-quite the opposite, actually. All it resembles is the fact that she's at a loss for words, because she knew what it felt like to lose someone and to have another person, who you're not really close to, apologize for their loss.

Kate's grandmother was her first encounter with that term. It had been a long time ago—when she was in her early teens. She didn't really tell any of her friends, since she had found the look of melancholy on other people's faces uncomforting. So, she stood by her mom's side at the funeral, murmuring 'thank you's to many family friends that she didn't know as they recited the apology.

Then it was her mom. That was harder. Kate remembered ever feeling, every emotion swerving through her brain, traversing others. They clashed, she fell. Her dad fell. They both fell hard—deep into a pit that sucked her until she caught hold of a ledge, sticking out by fate. She swam to her castle. Her safe house, filled with comforting bells of nice laughter and friendship. Then something more…

"I just want you," she had said, gazing into his eyes, his face in between her hands. Everything she held back, everything she was too afraid to show was pushed forward. And it was accepted; she was exonerated. It was good.

Everything was the same when she closed her eyes. She felt the touches, the light feathery kisses, the rhythmic words of her author mumming alongside her ear, making it tickle. That's what she grasped at as she closed her eyes, letting the words be heard but not recognized.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Detective Beckett."

She opened her eyes, blinking until the doctor was distinctly clear, not just a fuzzy silhouette. The words burned, crimpling her into nothing but hot charcoal, but she held her stance. She licked her dry lips. It felt like lifting a hundred pounds. The doctor had the same look on his face that she hated. She wanted to run up to him and rip off his countenance, even though she knew she was being hypocritical. So, instead of beating up the doctor, she dipped her head down, immediately the blood rushed to her face. "Can I see him?" she asked, her voice cracking.

The doctor's brows furrowed. He tightened his grip on the clipboard and placed the attached pen back through the hole on the metal grip. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow that," he said solemnly. "I hope you understand."

Kate was already reaching for her badge by the time he finished talking. She held it up, right in front of the man's face. "Let me see him." Her emotions were in full swing, changing before any one of them could become dominate.

"Detective, I know you were close with this man. I really don't think you sho-"

"What room is he in?" she demanded.

"Two, but I strongly suggest-"

But Beckett was done listening. She ran past the man, trying to keep her pace steady even though she didn't trust her legs. Never had she been so annoyed by the clicking of her heels against the laminate flooring as she was in that moment. The hall had started at the number '15', so she kept her head to the right, counting down the evens. If Castle were dead, why wasn't everyone around her a mess? Why wasn't there more commotion? It was Castle, dammit! Her blood boiled. Once reaching the end of the hall, she set her eyes on the '2' that sat plainly in the slot towards the left of the door. It was so wrong. Nothing felt different. Nothing. So, in the end, was it so wrong to believe that nothing did happen? That she'd walk through the door and it would all be a big joke? The room would be lively. The beats from the monitor would project like a metronome. She'd walk in and sit and hold his hand, and they would talk until she could help bring him home, to Alexis and Martha.

Oh, god. Alexis and Martha.

Her mind was conflating so many things, she felt dizzy. She raised her arms and pushed against the door with her hands, relaxing her head in between them. Still. Slowly but surely, she traced one hand down to the doorknob and gripped it tightly. Swallowing, she opened the door that carried her weight with it.

Immediately, she averted her eyes to the ceiling. The room was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. She stepped once more…and then another and another until she felt the bed stop her knees. She took a deep breath and looked down.

She had never seen her mom in person after she had died. She'd seen pictures, but the funeral was closed-casket. Her father had identified the body while she was sipping on some hot chocolate in the morgue lobby. It had been an argument, she remembered that. She remembered yelling at her dad, her voice so loud that she was red in the face.

The man in the hospital bed, abandoned, wasn't Castle. His ghostly face looked cold, vacant of his bubbling theories and thoughts that Beckett had fallen in love with. His features were drawn perfectly still; his lips closed, his eyes shut. If her occupation had been different, and she didn't see multiple corpses daily, she would have believed he was a manikin.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat. She felt numb. Carefully, she extended her hand and placed it on top of Castle's. It still felt like him: Soft, yet calluses were everywhere from writing, Kate knew. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to his wrist, and she wrapped her hand around his, feeling for a pulse she knew wasn't there. Closing her eyes, she held back tears from only hearing the sound of her own heartbeat. It should have been the other way around….

"This doesn't make any sense," Beckett said, running a hand through her hair, staring at the murder board.

Castle shook his head. "How can the brother not be in on it? If I wrote this murder, that'd be exactly what I would plan." He shifted in his seat, leaning over the desk to take another bite of pasta.

Moving closer to the board as if the information would become any clearer, Beckett sighed. "Can't argue with a rock solid alibi, Castle."

"No, but you can break it with some kind of construction tool," he mumbled under his breath, pouting.

Beckett turned around quickly and let out an audible 'Ha!'. "Will you grow up? You were wrong; it's fine. We all make mistakes." She walked over and took the container of noodles out of Castle's hand, ignoring his protests and spun the spaghetti around the fork. She let the warm, tongue-pleasing taste take over her for a second. This was the most stressful case she's had in a while, and it was definitely taking a toll on her and the whole team.

A little girl had been murdered for overhearing some kind of drug cartel plan and was hunted down and tortured. The brother, Thomas, went to a private school and made straight A's, though he refused to be complaint with the police department. He was called in for questioning straight away when they had found out that he possibly could have been meeting with a group of people at corner smoke shop about 10 miles from his school, the place where the girl was killed. It was an easy subway ride over, and they had footage of him riding it each day to the same location, carrying something on the way there but not on the way back. And although his weight and height didn't match up with the killer's supposed features, they knew he was involved. But he had an alibi; a good alibi. He said he was speaking at a non-profit function in Upper Manhattan, and had shown the contents of the briefcase to the police, revealing they were nothing but notes and flyers for the event. He had countered that from that stop, he could have gone multiple places in multiple different directions. New York City was, after all, very big.

"Beckett," said Esposito. She spun towards him, regretting it immediately. The world tilted and she shot a hand up to her head and closed her eyes. She kept forgetting that she hadn't slept in a day or so. He must have come in for an early start. What time was it, five? Five thirty?

Esposito frowned. "Come on, Becks. This is ridiculous and you know it. It's not going to do her any good if you're not a hundred percent." He gestured to the girl on the murder board. "You, also," he said to Castle, who was almost falling asleep on his reheated roll.

Kate looked at the ground. Of course he was right, but something about this case just didn't feel right, and she just wanted it to be over; solved. That poor girl deserved her peace. She deserved Beckett's best and right now, that's far from what she was getting. Nodding, she headed to the chair that her coat was folded over messily and put it on. "Let's go, Castle."

He nodded. She said good-bye to Esposito and stepped into the elevator. Once inside, she turned to Castle and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, smiling at the warm familiar scent.

"Guess I can cross eating Spaghetti at five in the morning off of my bucket list."

Kate snorted, releasing him as she felt the elevator stop and it eventually opened. Stepping out onto the street, Castle held her close. She appreciated it since it was probably below freezing. Catching a cab, she slipped in first, scooting across and making room for Castle. Once they were both seated, she wasted no time getting comfortable. She was cold and Castle was a heater. She draped her hand across his stomach and let her head fall against his chest. She felt his hand rise to her lower back and push her in closer, though it seemed impossible. Leaning down, Castle pecked the top of her head and they rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.

When they reached Castle's loft, she reluctantly let go and opened the door, not waiting for the cabbie to come and open it for her. Force of habit, she guessed. The sun was already pretty high up in the sky. However, the night doorman was at his place, obviously tired from a long night's work. He held a smile on his face, though, as always.

As soon as Castle opened the door to the loft, she shuffled off her shoes and headed straight to the bedroom. She heard Castle chuckle behind her. She had been sleeping over the majority of the summer, so she didn't think twice about settling in as if it were her own home. Was it that noticeable? She blushed, but continued her way to his room. Soon after, Castle appeared in the doorway and leaned against the wall.

Glancing back towards him as she made her way to the dresser she asked innocently, "What?"

The smile remained on his face but he shook his head. "Nothing. I just love you, that's all."

She smirked and grabbed out one of Castle's thermal shirts. She shimmed out of her clothing and slipped it on. Reaching into the second drawer, she pulled out a pair of boxers and pulled them up as well. Kate walked over to the bed and splayed herself over the entire bed.

"Well what are you waiting for?" she asked, her voice dropping dangerously low.

He raised his eyebrow and walked in further to the room, dropping his clothes into a puddle as he made his way towards the bed.

Kate laughed subtly. "Aren't you cold?"

Castle shook his head. "Oh, no, I think I'm going to get pretty warm here in a second."

She barely had a chance to respond before his lips were on hers, leaving her gasping for air. He toppled her onto her back. Leaving her mouth, he straddled her, resting his elbows by her ears. "Oh yes, very warm," he growled. He leaned down and took her lower lip in between his teeth and bit lightly, soothing it afterwards with a light swipe of his tongue. She moaned into his mouth, sending a shock that traveled directly to his groin. His underwear felt ten times tighter.

Kate put her hand up on Castle's chest, catching her breath. "Castle, we can't," she said, obviously feeling Castle's growing problem. "I just—the girl. It doesn't feel right. I shouldn't have provoked this. I'm sorry."

Castle nodded and reluctantly turned over, collapsing next to Beckett. They lied there in a few minutes of silence before Castle cleared his throat. "Um, I'm just going to go take a really quick shower. I get it, but my body doesn't." He let out an empty laugh and got off the bed, obviously uncomfortable. Beckett giggled under her breath before flipping herself over to burrow into the sheets. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was the sound of the shower shutting off and the pitter-patter of Castle's feet as he climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around her.

A/N: Hello! I hope you'll enjoy this adventure with me;) I'll try to update once a week, but no promises. Sometimes I may write more, sometimes less. I'll try my hardest, though. I love comments, as does every author, so I'd love to receive them from you if you would like to leave me one!

See you next time,

Maddie

P.S. Let me know if I should include those song things that inspired me to write this, so you can listen to them and get what I was feeling, or whatnot. I don't know.