and death i think is no parenthesis
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or it's characters. You ought to be pretty glad of that, really, otherwise I think OOC things like this would be happening. I wrote this between 1 and 3 in the morning, so forgive me for any mistakes or the sleep-deprivation that may shine through.
'Yes. The fundamental mistake I had always made—and that she had, in fairness, always led me to make—was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.'
- Paper Towns, John Green.
He waits for them in the dark.
He wishes he could rise and turn on the lights, or even just allow the small glow of a lamp, but he can't. Instead he opts to staring quietly into the dark abyss of his new apartment. (Boxes still litter the place, only the necessities unpacked, even though he has actually been living here for 4 years now.) He wonders idly if she would've liked the place. He thinks her sense of interior design would've worked well with it. After all, he had her in mind when he had bought the place so long ago. (Or was it really all so long ago? Time passes at such an abstract rate nowadays.) When he'd been shown the place, he'd imagined her there: Stretched out on the bed, all long limbs and soft curves, as the new morning sun made her hair shine gold; Sat on the stool of the island in the kitchen, dressed in only his shirt and stealing the bacon from his plate with a cheeky grin she only reserved for him gracing her beautiful face; Curling up on the couch with him in front of the fire after a long, hard case, the silence filled with the crackling of flames.
They could've been amazing.
They had never been given the chance.
When the knock on the front door does eventually come, he doesn't respond straight away. How easy it could be not to acknowledge it. How easy it could be to simply sit and be nothing and fade away completely.
As the thought graces his mind, he leans over and switches a lamp on. The light burns brightly in his eyes, he's so unused to light now (when had he last left his apartment?) and his eyes take their time to adjust. Slowly, he raises himself from the couch and heaves himself to the front door. He doesn't pretend to be delighted when he sees them.
Lanie, Esposito and Ryan stand before him, uneasy looks on their faces. It's amazing how much they've changed. He hasn't seen them since he moved to this apartment 4 years ago, which was situated in Idaho, so quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of New York. Since then he's been living much of a solitary life, ordering food to be delivered to his house instead of shopping for groceries, spending his days watching movie after movie, only leaving the house once a year on that dreadful day- the day she disappeared- to visit Idaho Falls and hold his own form of ceremony for her. He has long since given up on writing. Luckily, he's set for life so he doesn't need a job. The earnings from Nikki Heat setting him up particularly well. How ironic.
"Hey, Castle."
Lanie is the one to break his reverie with her soft words. He blinks and stares down at her, drinking in the laugh lines that mark her face, and the prominent bump of her stomach. He tries to smile.
"Congratulations." He manages to heave out, but his voice is rough and dry. He hasn't spoken since Alexis called two weeks ago, letting him know her and her new husband were going on holiday to England for a month, and that she'd probably visit him as soon as they got back. Honestly, he didn't miss her. Well, of course he did. But he didn't miss her presence, because he knows that sitting in silence and watching TV all day would not be spending quality time with each other, and he didn't miss the way her voice sounded so worried each time they spoke on the phone. She was happier without him. He knows that. He's glad she's happy.
"Thank you, Castle." Lanie smiles, eyes so friendly and warm. She reaches up and hugs him tightly, and he pats her back awkwardly in response. He remembers how long she'd held him when they'd found out- when… Back in darker times. How could he have depended so much on her then but feel so little but sadness now?
When they part, he steps back and lets her enter the apartment as he reaches out to grip Esposito's handshake. They say nothing out loud, Esposito speaking to him with his sympathetic eyes, before moving past him to join Lanie on the couch. Ryan's next, and his face is so much darker than it used to be. There used to be that small edge of immaturity glittering in his eyes, radiating from his smile. Now his eyes are worn, lips a tight line that speak of experience in a language he has come to know so well for so long. Ryan reaches out to clasp his shoulder for a moment, but then Castle allows him to move inside, too.
He closes the door slowly, wishing that he could skip this part. But it needs to be done.
He lowers himself into the armchair that sits opposite the couch Lanie, Esposito and Ryan have squished themselves onto. He allows himself to simply drink in the sight of them for a moment, ghosts of his past that have come back to haunt him. He has missed them so much, but hates them all the same for dredging up memories of the past that he's long since filtered from his mind.
"Thank you for coming. I know it was a long trip." He had paid for their plane tickets, of course. After all, he was their unwilling host.
"You know we wouldn't miss this, bro." Esposito assures him, a hand wrapped protectively around Lanie's waist. Esposito can feel it too, then. Her ghost of a presence in the darkness, always wrapping around him, always there, so relentless and painful- even in his dreams that presence is there. Even now, she's not gone. Not really.
He remembers when he left them. He hadn't meant to leave. Leaving meant running away, quitting, giving up, losing hope. Castle was not a hopeless man. He had waited four years for her in hope before she'd gone, he could wait forever for her to return.
But then his Mother died.
She'd been his anchor. She'd been his hold on reality as he slowly tried to unravel from it all like ribbon. In the first few weeks, she had thrown theories at him like she once had, permitted him to act like a detective. After a few months and the fire of hope dwindled, she'd come rushing to his bedside as he yelled out in his nightmares, holding him and comforting him in the way only a mother could. When months bled into a year she had suggested the trip to the beautiful Idaho Falls, bringing Alexis and Jim along with them, and they had lit a Chinese lantern in honour of the whole year she had been gone. (The next year, they did two, and the next, three, and so on.) When one year faded into two, she threw him back into social life, and he found himself smiling once again, a smile that he had only been using recently for Alexis when she visited. Any drink she found on him, she took and claimed hers, and when he was bored and wallowing she would distract him with an endless array of tasks. She helped him choose his outfit for his first date since that day. She'd stayed up late to make sure he wasn't a mess when he got home, and he wasn't, he was actually happy. (Scarlett had been a very beautiful and kind secretary that had worked for his mother in her acting school for so long but he had never noticed until then.) When, after seven months together, things with Scarlett fell apart at the edges, Martha held him in place. Three years passed, and she once again headed out to Idaho Falls with him, Alexis and Jim, and she'd held his hand as he watched the cluster of lanterns fly away from his reach, from his hearing, from his sight. Just like she had…
But then three months later, she was hospitalized for terminal liver cancer. For two days, she lay in that hospital bed while he fretted around her for the first time in three years. Alexis took time from college to be there. When she was awake and not giddy from the morphine, she cried and told them how much she loved them, and how grateful she would always be that she had been blessed with the pair of them. On the second night, after falling asleep while Castle was mid-story about the time she'd taught him how to make him a Bloody Mary when he was eight years old, she did not wake up again.
The funeral was quiet. Alexis had held onto him for dear life throughout it all, and he wondered if she could be his new anchor, but knew that kind of responsibility could not be heaved upon his daughter. She returned to college two days after, making him promise her he'd call if he even simply needed someone to talk to in order to fill the void inside of him that two women he had loved had left.
Once she was gone, Castle had searched his Mother belonging's, knowing he would simply box it all away and her possessions would become just another one of his ghosts. He found an envelope beneath her pillow addressed to him, and he knew, then. That she'd known that she'd been dying, for so long, and hadn't told him.
He opened the envelope and after the first sentence (Richard, if you've found this then I can safely assume I'm gone, and I simply want you to know that I'm sorry and I couldn't tell you because you were hurting so much already, kiddo.) found he could read no more. He packed everything in the apartment in boxes that day, deleted the files from his murderboard, and sent a letter to the precinct to let them know he was leaving, but he would keep in touch.
He did not keep in touch.
So here they are now. So broken because of their tragic pasts. He wonders if they forgive him; he doesn't dare ask.
"She's dead." He says bluntly, and watches as their eyes widen. "I mean, no body has been found or anything, but seven years have passed. So… she's, legally, dead." Castle looks down at his feet, barely visible in the ill-lit apartment, and waits.
Seven years was a hell of a long time.
It has been seven years since he woke on the night after the storm to an empty bed and the echoes of her perfume on his pillows. It has been seven years since the night after she resigned and stopped being a detective. It has been seven years since the day she went missing. It has been seven years since the day Kate Beckett left.
Now Kate Beckett is officially a ghost.
"Are you… Coping?"
The question comes from Ryan, and it startles him. He looks up and wonders about the man. Is he still married to Jenny? He hopes so. They gelled well together. Have they had any kids? Moved houses? Does he still work at the twelfth? And Lanie and Esposito: Are they married yet? Is the child their first or second? Are they all happy? Have they forgotten her?
"I'm still alive, if that's what you mean." He answers Ryan eventually. He doesn't feel alive, though. He wishes he did.
Ryan simply nods.
Castle sighs. "Me and Jim… We… He flies out here and we set off Chinese lanterns in honour of Kate every year. But, uh, since this time it's… different… we hoped you would join us."
Lanie smiles tearfully. "I want that more than anything."
Castle fumbles slightly in the dark with his two Chinese lanterns, but when the one beside him (Jim? Lanie?) lights up he finds his way. The moonlight is scarce, a small half-moon hangs above them, a complete representation of them all. They are half of what they once were, trying to shed the light in the dark but failing miserably.
"3, 2, 1…" Castle mumbles, raising his lanterns in the air and watching as they all do the same before finally letting go.
The breeze carries them slowly across the water, skimming it lightly as they do so. A small glow in remembrance of her travelling endlessly, never knowing where they'll end up. Aside from the small shed of moonlight, they are the only source of light this night.
And he thinks of his Mother, his anchor and his light who had left him so lonely unwillingly. And he thinks of Kate, his un-constant and his love who had left him so lonely willingly.
And he loves them all the same.
Jim leaves without a word once the lanterns are out of sight, unwilling as ever to talk of Kate and always keen to go back to a world where he's simply Jim Beckett and no-one knows otherwise. Castle stands for a moment, alone, before climbing into his car and waiting for the others. They take their time, but slowly clamber into his car in silence.
He drops them off at a nice motel he'd stayed in for a while before he found his apartment. "Remember," he says as they climb from the car, "your plane leaves at eight on the dot tomorrow morning."
Ryan and Esposito say nothing again; simply give him looks of sorrow. Lanie doesn't follow them, and reaches out to hold Castle's hand. "She loved you, Castle. I am more certain of that than I am of anything."
Castle squeezes her hand lamely in return. "But not enough to stay."
Lanie sighs. "Did you ever expect her to?"
Castle feels his chest tightening and his tears filling with unshed tears, so he quickly ropes Lanie into a hug and whispers: "Goodbye, Lanie."
She sighs again. "Goodbye, Castle."
He doesn't look back when he leaves their lives for good.
He ought to have known, really.
That she really had chosen to stay away all these years.
So when he steps off the elevator to his floor he's a mix of startled and disappointed to find Kate Beckett curled up, fast asleep, against his front door.
It's strange. In the dreams where she returned she looked the same as she had before she left. Curls a light shade of brown that curl just beyond her shoulders, light make-up and bright, curious green eyes ready to take on the world. But here she is before him, hair darker than he'd ever known, long and straight to her waist and tired, worn eyes. Wrinkles mar the once soft edges of her eyes, and her once oh so irresistible lips. He hadn't thought she would ever change.
But still, she is Kate Beckett all the same. So he scoops down and picks her up easily (she's lost far too much weight), leading her through his door like he always has and always will.
When she wakes, she tugs the baggy hoodie she's wearing from her head and her fingers close around the cuffs that pass way far past her hands. He does nothing but stare at her for a moment, and she does nothing but stare at him.
He's started up the fire. And here she finally is, on his couch in front of it.
It's so wrong.
He shifts slightly in his position on the armchair, gathering courage. "Kate…" It's the first time he's said her name in seven years, and it causes his throat and eyes and tongue to burn. Her name is foreign to him now; an omen that had always been a crashing wave trying to drown him.
And she smiles. It reaches her eyes. She's not hollow, like him.
"Why did you leave?" He spits out. "I thought that you had finally allowed yourself to be happy. I thought that you loved me!"
Kate pushes herself up, sitting on the couch with her feet tucked beneath her. "Castle…" She begins.
"Please, don't make excuses. Was I not enough? Was I just a way for you to relax after being suspended, huh, Kate? Was I just your loyal little fucking puppy who you knew would always forgive you? Was I?!" He yells, leaning forward in his seat and trying not to cry.
Tears shed from her own eyes though, and she doesn't bother trying to hide them. "Castle. You know it wasn't like that."
"Oh, I do, do I?" He barks, laughing humourlessly. "God, I don't know what came over me for saying those things, Kate. After all, you've shown such commitment." He snaps.
Her hands are trembling as she presses them to her temples, eyes closed. "I didn't ever mean for this to happen."
"What did you think would happen, huh? That you could just continue walking in and out of my life like you always do?" He accuses.
Kate releases a small sob, and his anger diminishes. Even now, after all the hurt that she has caused him, he still can't stand to see her in any form of pain, let alone pain that he himself has caused.
Kate wraps her arms around herself and squeezes, as if she can just squeeze the pain away. She lets out a slow exhale of breath to steady herself and began to explain.
"I never even meant to leave for more than half an hour. I just- I had no job, you know? No purpose. And I'd always had a purpose. I'd always been a cop and I'd always been trying to avenge my Mother. But I had nothing but you and that scared the shit out of me, Castle, because I've never been able to depend on anyone because in the end everyone leaves. So I thought I'd clear my head. I just meant to go for a walk, Castle, and think about things, but…" She breathes in and out again, slowly. "But then I was too far to walk back in all the pain I was in from my injuries, so I got a cab. But then I ended up making him drive me to the airport. And I wasn't even thinking. I bought the first flight available- to Maine of all places- and it was only when it landed that I realised what I'd done. So then I told myself I'd ring you, but I didn't have my cell, and every time I neared a phone booth I just… couldn't. And there I was: In a place where no-one even knew my name and didn't expect anything of me. And I just thought it could work. Because I felt free for the first time in my entire life, not lost. So I stayed until I drained my bank account, and wrote letters to you, but could never bring myself to send them."
She stops and pulls the rucksack he'd ignored from her back, and turned it upside down to send pieces of paper flying everywhere. Most were crinkled at the edges, dog-eared and tear stained. There must be over 500 pieces of paper in all.
"So I drained my bank account two months in, and travelled down to New Hampshire. I had temporary jobs on the way, and while I was there. I stayed there for about a month, always trying to find the will to call you, but I never could. And it hurt, being away from you, but being free was so new and fresh and exciting that I knew I couldn't go back to a place that knew me. So then I travelled on, to Connecticut and Philadelphia and New Jersey. It was like an addiction Castle, and it consumed me. After a year, I found myself in Ohio. After that, I stopped trying to pick up the phone, and only wrote a letter once a month to you, and stopped registering where exactly I was."
Again, she stops, but this time only to rest her head in her hands, before pulling her eyes up to meet his.
"I had no concept of time. I had no concept of a life outside of the freedom this bought me. I never made friends, never stayed along to make any, and never thought about the consequences this caused. I'd long since created a fake identity for myself, paid only in cash so nobody would ever find me, no phone, and changed my hair and my clothes. I visited tourist spots and blended into crowds. I discovered places I never knew existed and allowed myself to be nothing but alive. I dreamt of you every night. And then…"
When she stops this time, she looks down and doesn't continue.
"And then?" He prompts.
Tears leak from her eyes and she bites her lip, but she soldiers on regardless.
"And then I picked up a paper in Utah this morning and found the article about me. The cop they never found." She spits bitterly. "Because that's all I ever was, of course. To them. I was just a cop. I was never a daughter to my Father, or a friend to Lanie, or a lover to you. I was never a woman who grieved for her Mother every day, and could never sleep in the dark. I was never a woman who read great books and inspired a character in one of yours, who could play guitar and sang in her spare time. I was just a cop." She grinds out, crying. "But then all those feelings left me when I saw the date. Read that I was officially dead. And, Castle, you've got to believe me I had no idea!" She cries out, a hand outstretched to him. "I- I thought it was, God, at most 2 or 3 years. Not 7! I… God, Castle, I'm so sorry."
He inhales a shaky breath, stares at her outstretched hand. "And then you came back for me?" He asks hesitantly.
She smiles. "And then I came back for you."
He's too tired for more emotions tonight, so he sends himself off to bed, making her swear she'll still be there in the morning on his couch. He doesn't expect her to be there, and goes to bed with an aching heart, fearing inevitable abandonment once again.
But instead he wakes two hours later to find her crawling into bed with him, pressing the long line of her body against his and crying into his neck.
"I can't stay." She whispers, and she sounds as if she regrets it.
Castle holds her close, remembering the long forgotten feel of her against him that he had only ever been given the chance to feel once before.
"I could come with you." He suggests, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Her hands curl around his shoulders, digging in almost painfully. She pulls away slightly to look up at him, searching his eyes with her own. "But- What about Alexis? Martha? You have so much responsibility, Rick. I couldn't take you away from your family."
He sighs, reaching up with one hand to tuck a tendril of her behind her ear. "Kate… My Mother died four years ago."
Kate gasps, tears instantly flooding from her eyes again, and he cries too. She curls her fingers around his ears and suddenly she kisses him softly. And he has never felt so alive in his entire life.
"I'm so sorry, Castle. I'm so sorry."
She's said those words before.
But he carries on anyway, because she doesn't see. For three years after she left, he had his Mother and his daughter. For four years, all he's had is her ghost haunting him relentlessly. He's been so warped in hoping she'll return that he could never bear to lose her again otherwise he believes he just might die from it all.
"I haven't seen Alexis since she went back to college after the funeral four years ago." He tells her, and watches as she frowns. "I talk to her on the phone, of course. And she got married last year. I didn't go, I just… Couldn't let her see me this way, grieving for my Mother and you and the life I'd left behind. She seemed to understand." He sighs, and presses his forehead to hers. "She's twenty-five now, Kate. She doesn't need her Daddy anymore."
Kate presses her mouth to his again, firmly. "I need you." She breathes quietly.
Castle smiles. That's new.
"Then I'll come with you. I need you, too. We can travel and have different names. Different jobs. We won't have emotional baggage. We can be free. Hell, we can even go by the names Jameson Rook and Nikki Heat if it means I never have to live another day without you again, Kate Beckett. "
Kate grins in return, and in the light that the moon provides, he can see a glimmer of life in her eyes for, what he suspects, the first time in seven years.
The next year, at Idaho Falls, 9 Chinese Lanterns light the sky.
8 for her. 1 for him.