The Final Curtain
One shot. Castle's last day at the precinct. Probable series ending.
xxx
He wakes up to a cold December morning, a light snow falling outside, bleary, dark skies (he can't remember the last time he stepped out into sunshine).
It's entirely too early for his liking but it's time to wake up. He snuggles in close to her, burying his head in her hair if only for five more minutes of warmth.
She's been awake for a while now, waiting for him to wake up. It's too cold to shake off the covers and begin her day. She's reluctant to give up the heat of his leg wrapped around hers. She turns to him beneath the blanket, gazing into half opened eyelids, his hand steady on her waist.
She doesn't want to wake up, just wants to lie there, entangled, brushing her hand through his hair, tickling him just at that spot below his chin, breathing him in, inhaling the warmth and the love.
But she can't.
His eyes flutter open, still sleepy, but focused on her.
She only partially hears him murmur,"This is it."
xxx
He follows her into the nursery where their four year old son is still asleep. "Hey Ray. Wake up, bud. Time for school."
"It's cold, daddy."
"I know, bud. I know."
He hugs his son dearly, longer than usual. Although Raymond doesn't understand why his dad is being so emotional today, somehow just his support is enough. Ray doesn't really mind. The boy adores his father and the extra warmth isn't bad either.
Kate looks on as father and son embrace and she's struck by how similar they are. The cowlick in the exact same place, the same nose, the same eyes, the same dreamy smile; except for the colour of his hair Raymond is pretty much Castle's son. The hair, he gets from his mother; not that Castle isn't a little bit unhappy about the fact that his son won't inherit his hair. But on his better days he acknowledges that her hair is possibly better than his.
She wants in on the adorable hugging too now. To their son, it's an ordinary chilly friday morning. To them, it's their last day at the precinct together. It is the end of an era.
xxx
She knows it's selfish of her to ask him to stay longer, deny him his fresh start, so she doesn't.
She was there when the writer's block set in when he was writing the twelfth book. She's seen him struggling to write, muttering his frustration as he paces to and fro in the study, grasping at straws to get a few pages down. She's seen him frown at his work (something she never thought she would ever see), seen him press the dreaded delete button over and over again, seen him curse at the laptop, seen him scour through archives of scrap scenes that he's written previously, just searching for inspiration. She's seen him ignore Gina's calls far too often, a sudden panic in his eyes every time the phone rings.
She knew what it meant. Nikki Heat just wasn't enough anymore.
He's been nothing but professional at the precinct, very much his rugged self- showing up for every body call, coffee in hand, present for the interrogations, theory-building in front of the murder board, messing with the guys- just the usual. Even with Raymond, he doesn't lose his cool, patient and loving as always.
It's within the limits of his study that he finally gives in to the worries, the horrid ache in the back of his head when he sits down to write. She's seen the aspirin.
The thrill has faded. Nikki and Rook had a kid now, after eleven books, even though they weren't married, still very much the same old bickering souls that they first were when they met.
She wasn't surprised when he told her two weeks ago, that he was ending it, that the twelfth book would be the last.
He said the magic was gone, the spark, the mystery, the nuance.
She began to fret that she was failing as his muse but he quieted her suspicions. "I'm ready to move on from Nikki Heat but I'll never be able to move on from you, Kate Beckett. There's so much more out there that I want to write about- Friendships and lovers and intrigue and dreamers..."
She accepted his explanation then and squashed down that annoying voice in her head that wanted her to beg him to stay at the precinct, still be her partner.
Deep inside her heart, she knows he's done the character of Nikki Heat justice, so much more than Kate would have ever imagined. For twelve years, he's poured his heart and soul into every scene, every dialogue, every emotion. He's kept her company on her deepest, darkest days.
She'll do her part now because she'll do anything to see him smile again when he writes, jump from the couch to type out a scene that has just occurred to him. She'll do anything to get back his little writing idiosyncrasies, anything to see him happy again.
xxx
After ten minutes of fruitless searching, he finds his son sitting in the giant cardboard box that he bought to carry his things home from the precinct. He's managed to sneak into the study to have a gala time jumping about in the box.
"Come here you pesky little thing," picking up his mischievous son in his arms, tickling him, both of them giggling loudly.
He hears Kate yell from the kitchen. "Boysss! Time for breakfast! Don't be laaaate!"
"Let's go Ray, today's a very important day for your mommy and me. We don't wanna be late now, do we?"
"Race you," Ray squeals.
The boy frees himself from his arms and runs to the kitchen, bubbling and full of energy, Castle struggling to tag on his heels.
Already propped up on the kitchen counter by himself, Ray exclaims," Haha! I beat you, Daddy."
Castle's still huffing. Kate smirks. "You're getting old, Castle!"
"Cheap shot." He makes a sad face at her.
She blows him a kiss. "Oh cheer up. Moping is unattractive."
Kate hands Ray his tiny cup of milk. "Ok Ray. Grandma will pick you up from school, ok? Mommy and Daddy will be late tonight. You be good."
The boy sips his milk obediently and nods. He's always loved his grandmother. Kate knows it's the reason for the silly grin on his face.
"Ok then boys. Hurry up. Let's go."
xxx
Ray is strapped into his seat at the back of their SUV, keenly observing the cars and the people passing by. He has his father's eye for details.
They usually take turns dropping him, but they're doing it together today. She doesn't want him to be alone.
They're both wearing silent smiles, contemplating how twelve years went by so fast and how this day seems to have arrived out of the blue even though it's been a long time coming.
"So Kate, you're clear on the schedule right? The book release party for Ultimate Heat is next Saturday. I've told Paula to cut my book tour short. So I'll be here for Christmas and then away for about two weeks in January."
"And then?"
"Then I start writing again. Something different. I think I'll travel for awhile, all of us together I mean. We could take a nice vacation somewhere sunny. Malibu?"
"That sounds great." She sounds dejected.
"Kate, you're ok with this right?"
"Oh yeah. I'm fine. It's a great plan."
Even though she's trying hard to go with him on this, she's inadvertently popped a seed of doubt into his mind.
What if things don't work out? What if he never finds inspiration in anything else ever? What if reaching beyond his comfort zones is just not the right thing to do for their family right now. He'd be gone more often, doing research God knows where. Would his son miss him? Would his wife be lonely?
They're questions he doesn't have answers to and won't have for a while, until things settled into place.
But would he have an answer then?
The shrill buzz of his cell phone cuts through his thoughts.
"Hey Dad! It's Alexis. I just wanted to wish you luck on your last day at the precinct."
"You know too?"
"Kate told me."
"Well thanks pumpkin."
"If you need me to babysit Ray or anything just gimme a call."
"Oh that's ok. Grams is taking care of it."
"Well if you need anything or you just wanna talk, call me ok?"
"Sure sweetheart. Thank you. Take care." He sounds a little too grim for her liking.
"And dad. It's your last day. Make it a happy one."
He hangs up. Too bad he won't get to see Alexis today. She's become the smart, beautiful woman he dreamed she'd be one day. Although she doesn't live at the loft anymore, she visits often, babysits her brother sometimes.
It seems like ages ago when his only family were his mother and his daughter. They still are his family even though Alexis lives with her boyfriend and Martha moved in with an old friend. They still celebrate birthdays and Thanksgiving and Christmas together along with Jim Beckett. But it's not the same. Even though he's not sure how it could be any better. He has the life he's always dreamed about.
xxx
He steps into the precinct, taking in all the sounds, the sights, the contagious energy, as if he were experiencing it for the first time.
He's holding the giant cardboard box in his hand, altogether too large for his belongings at the precinct but it still seems too small to box away all his memories.
He captures a mental image to save for the future, when he's no longer sitting in his usual chair, ready at the drop of a hat to follow his muse on their latest adventure.
She spends the morning sifting through records and going over paperwork on their case. Ryan and Espo are away canvassing for leads.
He's rifling through the stuff on her desk, gathering all of the nondescript objects he's left behind- An assortment of candy, tiny bright red bowls of some kind that have eventually turned into a dustbin for the candy wrappers, his favourite pair of sunglasses, an ink pen, a few case notes.
He goes through her drawers (he doesn't even have to ask her for permission anymore; it's like a joint locker); he takes his time unravelling their contents. There's a pair of leather cuffs that he bought for her as a joke, her little stickman, a paper doll from the crazed psycho sniper they'd caught almost eight years ago (she kept it as a trophy), business cards, a couple of his handkerchiefs, a picture frame with a picture of her mother, a worn out copy of Heat Wave that he knows she reads when she's upset, a cardboard with the cover art of his eighth book- 'Overheat' on the back of which he remembers outlining a hybrid killer-crow theory to her.
She's got pictures under the glass slab on her table top- a photo from their wedding day, one of their team- the boys, her and Castle, one of Castle and Ray eating identical Popsicles with goofy smiles, one of the three of them and Alexis at the Hamptons, one with her and Lanie on their girls night out, one with her dad. It's like a whole picture of her life.
He traces his fingers over the smooth glass, trying to recollect the memories behind the smiles, imagining the stories behind those moments that he wasn't there for.
She sees him through the corner of her eye. She's still not sure how she's going to get used to him not being there, fiddling around, annoying here ceaselessly. Oh but it was going to cease. And soon. The former Kate Beckett of twelve years ago would be glad this day had arrived. But this was a different Kate Beckett- more smiles, more laughter, less regrets, less demons- and she was a better person for it, all because of him.
But he wasn't leaving her entirely. She still gets to go home to his warm embrace, still gets to kiss their son goodnight, still gets to be his wife. She's just being unreasonable, isn't she? How long had she really expected him to follow her around? Forever? She was a fine homicide detective before he came along and she would be one even after he left. That was that.
"Hey Castle, you gonna be a filing clerk all day? Coz I could really use your help with these incident reports."
"Sure."
xxx
Kate and the boys are heading into the tech room to see a surveillance tape and he's about to follow them when he hears the Captain calling out his name.
"Mr. Castle? Could I see you in my office for a few minutes?"
Kate shoots him a puzzled glance. "Get into trouble again, Castle?"
"No. Wait lemme...no. As far as i can recall, I've done nothing wrong."
"Well better go check what she has to say then."
"Ok." He nervously hurries his way towards Captain Gates' office only to be greeted by a smiling face.
"Mr Castle. I take it today's your last day here?"
"Umm yeah."
"Sick of the twelfth already?"
"Oh no. It's been a pleasure here. Twelve years at the twelfth precinct umm wow. It's been great but it's time I tried my hand at something new, you know? Try to go beyond my boundaries, challenge myself."
"I see."
"I'd really like to thank you for all the co operation from all of your people here, they've been nothing but kind."
"Pleasure's all mine, Mr Castle. The NYPD is most honoured to have worked with one of the finest police consultants there is."
"You are most kind." They shake hands.
"Do drop in sometimes, Mr Castle. Your team would appreciate you being around. As would I."
"Thank you once again Captain."
She nods and takes off, leaving Castle wondering what the hell happened to the woman who had once kicked him to the curb!
xxx
It's late in the after noon when the burning heat of the sun slowly melts into the warm orange glow of the early evening. She stifles a yawn and he reckons it's time for their final coffee at the precinct together. They shuffle into the break room heading straight for the espresso machine.
"Hey Castle, you're not taking the machine with you, are you?" She makes a vain attempt at a joke. He just shrugs.
"Oh no. Don't be silly. Since umm I'm not going to be here, maybe I should teach you my secret coffee making style. You'll be needing it."
She doesn't reply, emotions clouding her words.
"Not that it's necessary I mean your style is good too if you want-"
"No. Teach me. Teach me your style," she says.
His body swivels into action. He shows her how he works the creamer, in a swish of knobs, how he measures the coffee, how he judges the milk, how he lets it breathe for just a minute longer for that extra flavour before he brings it to her.
She does what he asks her to do as he peeks over her shoulder until finally they palm two identical blue mugs of steaming caffeine.
"I'll even teach you to make the little heart on the top with the-"
"No Castle. That'll always be your job."
He swallows his words, holds back tears and hiding behind his mug, he takes a sip.
"Oh Beckett. You're getting good at this already." He winks at her.
xxx
He's moping around at the desk first until he gets drawn into the case that they're discussing. Man tonged to death. His last case. Pretty soon, they're slapping photos in suspect and person-of-interest columns, expanding their timelines, confirming alibis, the four of them wrapped up in bouncing theories off each other right till the end as the hours stretch on.
"And Bam said the lady! Guys, we have a winner," he announces as the evening fades into night, high fiving Kate and fist bumping the guys.
xxx
"Mother?"
"Oh yes Richard darling, I just called to tell you I picked up Ray from school and we're at the loft now. Don't worry I'll put him to bed on time."
"Thank you so much, mother. You've been a saviour tonight."
"Oh nonsense kiddo. You know I love my grandson."
"Not more than he loves you apparently. He spent the entire car ride telling us how you fed him pizza the last time?"
"A little junk food never hurt no one."
"I agree. Don't tell Kate."
"Oh you two have plenty else to worry about. How's your last day at the precinct going?"
"As usual. I just cracked a case wide open."
"Richard, you're such a showoff. Always have been."
"Thank you for the kind words as always, mother. They're bringing our suspect in for questioning now. I have to go."
"Well alright. Take care kiddo. See you at home."
xxx
They're in the interrogation room. He's sitting next to her but he's letting her headline this one, happy to observe, only interrupting to supply tiny details that she misses.
He's just the cameraman on safari in the wild, peering from the safety of his perch atop a distant tree.
She's like a tigress on the prowl, observing her prey with ferocious eyes, so alert, lurking in the shadows, so conscious that she can smell the fear, sniff the lie, sense the betrayal.
He lets her do the talking. She bombards their suspect with a volley of questions, stalking him, waiting to spot the flaw that she can exploit.
And when she finds the weak link, she latches on, slamming the evidence on the table, her words striking like canines on flesh, unrelenting, powerful, ruthless.
Her prey is trapped. He can't shake her off no matter what. Her will prevails. She inflicts the lethal wound and the confession is secured.
The tigress is content. Her lair is safe now, her city is safe now, another rival to its peace put behind bars.
Castle will never get tired of watching her like this, in all her majestic glory. He's sure he's going sneak back here sometimes, if just to watch her at her best.
xxx
"Hey everybody! Can we have a round of applause for our bro Castle here?" Espo yells.
The floor erupts into a standing ovation, profuse applause, hoots and a few 'We'll miss you' s.
Esposito and Ryan hug Castle in turn and pat him on the back.
"Come have a drink with us now and then, Castle," Ryan says.
"I will, Ryan."
"I'm always here if you need a real macho muse, you know," Esposito adds.
Castle chuckles. "Just saying that makes it so unmanly, dude!"
Lanie and Jenny arrive then, dressed to the nines, ready for their Friday night double date. Castle hugs them too, making them promise to meet him at the book release.
"Alright you guys, have fun on your date."
Kate stands by, smiling to see him be appreciated. She sees his gracious façade but she knows he's tearing up inside.
xxx
It's quite late now. They're the only two people around. She's finishing up some paperwork on the arrest that can't wait until the next day. He's sitting so very still in his chair, glaring ominously at the brown cardboard box that sits at the foot of her desk.
Even after she's finished with her paperwork, she takes a few moments to stare at him. He's never going to sit there in front of her again. The chair will be gone, occupied by some other inconsequential employee. Just not Castle.
"Hey Beckett. Where's my going away party?"
"Oh sorry. I forgot to tell you. It's tomorrow down at Flannigan's. It's not really a flashy place but they're cops you know. Everybody's pitched in."
"That's really more than I could ask for."
"Aren't you going to ask for your going away present?"
"My what?"
"Here." She reaches into the pocket of her coat and slides it over the table. "You get to flash tin too now."
It's a badge, black and golden and blue much like the one she owns. He flips it open to find his own photograph inside. Written beneath are the words 'Richard Castle. Assistant volunteer detective. 12th Precinct. NYPD'
"Are you serious? Is this real?"
"Mmhmm. You can come work with us anytime you want. Full access to all the departments at the twelfth. Robbery, homicide, narcotics- you name it and you're in."
"How did you?"
"Couple of us wrote a Petition. Sanctioned by none other than Victoria Gates herself."
"Wow. This is so unexpected."
"You deserve it, Castle."
"Kate Beckett. You may not be my muse anymore but you'll never stop being my biggest inspiration. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, Castle. Feed me. I'm starving. Remy's? For old times sake?"
"Let's go." They exchange a knowing, familiar smile.
She grabs her coat, her gloves and her scarf. He grabs his box in one hand and links the other arm in hers. She twirls a wisp of her hair as they walk to the elevator, no more a writer and his muse but still partners, still husband and wife, still doting parents to their precious son.
"This is it," he murmurs for the second time that day, a barely audible whisper.
But she hears.
His cheeks are glazed with tears. He's staring into a corner, away from her. He can't bear to look at her.
She lowers her arm and clasps his palm in her own, squeezing tightly.
"It's gonna be fine, Castle. You're doing the right thing. Everything's going to be fine."
He turns to her and smiles through the tears. He's been waiting for these words all day, waiting for her reassurance. So he can believe, truly, that everything will be fine.
She's successfully held back her emotions all day but the dam breaks when she sees the meek 'thank you' in his eyes and she lets the tears flow, only squeezing his palm tighter.
The crushing hold is warmer than the coat or the scarf, their hearts heavier than the frosty December air.
The elevator dings as the doors snap shut and it hums away downwards, succumbing to the pull of gravity, leaving behind the hollow vacuum of the twelfth precinct, now empty except for the night light and the dim call of the cicadas.
Everything's so still now, everything's too silent, everything's too dark, as the final curtain falls.
-
Fin
Please please please do review. It would mean the world to me.