Disclaimer: I own nothing. Graduation speech was heavily inspired by that of a friend, though the main theme has been changed to fit this story.

A/N: Another dabble in Castle fanfic. Much thanks to Melissa for being my brainy, comment-happy beta.

"'Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.' I begin my speech tonight with the famous words of Mahatma Gandhi, a revolutionary leader in India, and favorite dinner guest of my dad's – in his dreams, anyway."

Castle smiled appreciatively as various heads in the sea of parents flicked his direction. One of the occupational hazards of being a bestselling novelist was that everyone seemed to know who he was and where he was at all times. On stage, Alexis grinned, half out of contained laughter and half out of nerves, as she waited for the laughter in the audience to dissipate. She caught his eye and her grin widened.

"She's got them hooked already," Martha said in a carrying whisper. She was seated next to Castle in the less-than-comfortable auditorium seats. He noticed that her lacy handkerchief was already in her lap.

"Mhm," Castle murmured. "How many times did you practice that delivery with her?"

She smiled. "This morning or total?"

"But dreams, no matter how unrealistic, are what make us who we are. Our imagination – our ability to see the world in a different way – that's what allows for change. Imagination allows for progress." He could hear the slight nervousness in Alexis' voice, but doubted anyone else could. She managed to mask her fears very well. She always had. "Every one of us can imagine. Whether you are a daydreamer or a problem solver, a writer or a detective, an athlete or an actress, we all have an imagination and we all have a chance to change the world."

The reference to himself and Beckett was not lost on him. He knew she had put that in on purpose, and that little twinkle in her eye as she had said it confirmed it.

"Don't worry about her, dear," Martha said, placing her hand over his.

He knew she didn't mean Alexis. "I wasn't," he answered truthfully. But now he was.

The seat next to Martha (the one her bag was currently occupying) wasn't supposed to be empty. Originally, Beckett had planned on attending Alexis' graduation ceremony. But at the last minute she had been forced to cancel because her father had wound up in the hospital after suffering a major stroke.

He wasn't expected to recover.

"She wanted you to be here," Martha murmured, sensing where his thoughts had gone.

That much was true. Although Alexis had insisted that he didn't need to hear her graduation speech again, or watch as hundreds of teenagers crossed the stage to get their diplomas, Beckett had all but forced him to go to his daughter's graduation. Even knowing that he was where Beckett wanted him did nothing to alleviate the worry growing in his stomach.

He pulled himself back to what Alexis was saying. "While some of our choices have been mistakes and others have had consequences, in the end, each decision colors our past and brightens our future. Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. Let's all remember that going forward."

Where had all this wisdom come from? It still amazed him that after Alexis' unconventional upbringing – living in the spotlight of a famous father, not having a strong mother figure (unless he counted his own, which he didn't) – she was the best kid that he knew. She was off to Stanford in the fall and he tried with all his might not to think about how many miles that was from New York City (two-thousand, five hundred, and sixty-three). Instead he amused himself by imagining how horribly Alexis' hair would clash with Stanford's cardinal red. Quickly he stifled a laugh at the thought.

"Life is full of good-byes," Alexis was saying now. "In a few very short months, we will be saying goodbye to our parents and going off to college and the coveted 'real world.' Years from now, we may find ourselves in a similar position, saying goodbye to our own children and preparing for life with an empty nest. And it will be many, many years from now, if we are so lucky, that we will say goodbye to our own parents forever."

Castle forced himself not to think of how soon Beckett might be saying goodbye to her father. Beside him, Martha was sobbing silently, but gracefully, as always, into her handkerchief.

"What do I take from these sobering facts?" Alexis asked. "Well, simply this: It means we have to live every day as though it's our last, because someday we're going to be right." There was a pregnant pause. "Go live your lives, everyone. Thank you."

The thunder of applause immediately filled the auditorium and Alexis was grinning again (from relief, Castle knew) as she made her way back to her seat. Castle hardly heard what the principal was saying about students preparing to receive their diplomas.

Martha gripped his hand tightly. "She did so well, don't you agree?" she said, her face shining with tears. "I can't believe our Alexis is all grown up."

"Neither can I," Castle agreed. A painful lump in his throat seemed to constrict his breathing.

"Just let it out, darling," Martha told him. "No use holding back the tears any longer. I even packed a spare handkerchief for you."

"I can't believe she's really going," he said thickly as he took the handkerchief from her.

Martha patted his knee but fell silent as the first students began walking across the stage. Without Alexis' speech to focus on, he quickly felt his thoughts turning, however unwillingly, back to Beckett.

What must she be feeling, alone in the hospital room, with nothing but the body of her father? He wanted to be there with her, to compensate for his own loss of his daughter by clinging ever more firmly to one of the only constants that would remain in his life after Alexis left. And some small part of him hoped that she would need him to be her constant, too. He tried not to think about how alone she would be after her father passed. He knew there wasn't an "if" to that statement, and there was barely any of a "when." From what he had ascertained from Beckett as she chased him from the squad room, her father was not going to make it through the night.

"Alexis," Martha breathed. Castle quickly focused his attention on the stage.

Alexis' long hair rippled down her back as she moved. He couldn't help noticing that with the black graduation gown and cap, Alexis was practically dressed in the same costume she had worn for Halloween the three years in a row she had insisted on being a witch. But this wasn't a costume, and no matter what Alexis had said about imagination in her speech, he was not imagining this. This really was his little girl, all eighteen years of her, walking across the stage, receiving her diploma, and switching her cap's tassel from one side to the other. Tears blurred his eyes as he clapped hard with everyone else as her name was read.

It happened when she reached the end of the stage and was about to step down. She raised her head from her feet (he knew she had been concentrating hard on not tripping over her gown) and looked directly at him. Their eyes locked. He smiled at her and raised his hand in acknowledgement. Alexis smiled back and gave a small, yet unmistakable jerk of her head, toward the exit. When he continued to gaze questioningly at her, he could tell she was restraining from rolling her eyes with great difficulty. Instead she raised her eyebrows and looked again in the direction of the exit. This time her message was clear.

Go.

"What is it, darling?" Martha asked as Castle began to gather his things.

"I – I have to go." He stooped over to kiss her cheek.

"But what about Alexis?" she cried softly.

"She told me to go." Without waiting for her to respond, he left his seat and tore up the auditorium aisle.

Though the hospital was a good twenty minutes away, he made the drive in ten. He could hardly concentrate on the road as he continued to dial Beckett's cell phone and continued to receive only her voicemail in response.

"I'm looking for Jim Beckett," he barked at the receptionist as he burst through the hospital doors.

"Are you family?" she asked skeptically.

"No, I'm – I'm a friend of his daughter," he answered.

"Family members only," the receptionist said, clearly bored. "Hey – where are you going?"

Castle ignored her as he took off down the hall. He was determined to find Beckett, determined not to let her go through this alone –

"Castle?"

He whirled around. She was standing some ten feet from him looking exhausted. He tried to read her expression as he approached her, but her face was unfathomable.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "What about Alexis?"

"She graduated," he replied. He searched her face, but still found no answer. "How is-?"

She met his gaze and he watched as her eyes slowly filled with tears. "Gone," she whispered. "Half hour ago."

Any hope for words died in his throat as she stumbled forward. His arms found their way around her as Alexis' speech echoed in his head.

"Someday we're going to be right."

How he just wished it didn't have to be today.

A/N: I appreciate your comments, so please review!