Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.

(xxx)

does this darkness have a name?

june 2016

"It was September," he starts, "it was September when Kate Beckett came into my life and changed me forever. I had been speaking to my daughter at the time about wanting something new, something real. Kate tapped my shoulder and I turned around asking where she'd like the autograph, and she just cuffed me and read me my Miranda rights." Not a noise was heard in the cemetery. A quiet sniffle from Lanie, a throat being cleared by Jim. "Alexis leaned over my shoulder and took the pen out of my hand and said 'that's new,' and I almost smiled. I almost laughed.

"Kate Beckett was the most extraordinary woman I have ever known. She was tough, and powerful, and just –" He took a deep breath. "Amazing." Castle cleared his throat and glanced down, his eyes flicking to the casket in front of him. He vaguely remembered Kate and him making a joke about calling themselves Caskett, "Ooh, Caskett, that's good! With the whole murder thing."

"Kate Beckett was not one to give up. If you knew anything about Kate, it was that she never backed down." Castle's eyes darkened as he remembered carrying Kate out of the hangar five years ago. He remembered Kate pleading to let her go, to let her run back into the gunfire. He could still hear her sobbing against the car, the screaming, God, the screaming, as he begged her to quiet down.

"She went after what she wanted. Always fought tooth and nail for it. She sometimes paid for it, and she didn't always win, but she always fought." He remembered – vividly – the night she came to his door, dripping wet, and the next morning when his hands roamed along the bruises from her almost fall off of the building.

"Kate Beckett was the strongest woman I knew. She went through so much – I'm sorry," Castle cleared his throat and looked down, remembering the pair sitting in a hospital room, Castle's arm around her waist, the words "You are unable to conceive, I am so terribly sorry," floating through both of their heads. "She went through so much, and still, she was so very amazing. Such a beautiful person, inside and out.

"Kate tended to put others in front of herself. She tended to make sure other people were doing okay before herself, tended to make sure she looked after other people before herself. She made sure other people ate, slept, took the night off before she did. She was a phenomenal person, but I'm so very happy that she had people looking after her." Oh, the so many nights Kate spent at the precinct, the days she spent running on three hours of sleep and two coffees. The so many movies she'd miss after falling asleep in the middle of them.

"Kate once compared herself to an onion, in saying that she had so many layers of the Beckett onion. 'However will you peel them all?' She'd said." He smirked, just a bit, and he looked down. "She had so many layers, and I'd gotten some peeled, I'd gotten lots peeled, actually, which is probably she only reason she married me." A slow chuckle rumbled throughout the crowd.

Castle's eyes closed softly, his mind flashing back three years ago, to Kate, his Kate, walking down the aisle towards him. Her father was on her arm, and she was looking down for most of the walk, but, oh, how beautiful she looked. A spot was left in the first row for Kate's mother, and when she passed it she slowly nodded towards it. He remembered how green her eyes were, how the white and red of the dress made her eyes pop. He remembered the cheering, and he still remembered the feel of his lips against hers as they said 'I do.'

"Kate Beckett was – is – the most extraordinary woman I will ever know, and I will love her, always." Castle smiled and looked up when a raindrop hit his nose, memories of how that word meant so much between them. How he'd said it in the freezer, and when she'd bandaged his hand after their (intense) kiss in the alley. He remembered her say it after Conrad had left, after she'd assured him she was a 'one writer girl.' He looked down and his smile faded a bit, remembering the last time she'd said always, when he was holding her in his lap after she was shot in the line of duty. She'd touched his face and smiled at him, she'd whispered "I will always love you, Castle," and then she'd left him.

He couldn't be bitter about her leaving him. She left with justice for her mother, she left with an amazing husband, and she'd left with honor. He would love her, always, and when he saw her in ten, twenty years when he died too, he'd tell her that.

A/N: This is pretty sloppy, I wrote it and finished it in one day, and the only editing I've done is sending this paragraph by paragraph to my friend on Skype. I wrote this in computer class, and honestly almost cried. Oops. This is obviously AU, any mistakes or misquotes are of my doing, and I hope you enjoy!