Hey guys, so I haven't properly written for Castle in a while and I'm feeling a bit nervous on this one. Set after Valkyrie, it's sort of snapshots of what Castle is going through. I hope you like it! Any feedback would be lovely :)

Biggest thank you to B for helping a sister out with this! Everyone should go check out her stuff (brookemopolitan)!

Disclaimer: I don't own a drop of this show, but you wouldn't want me to...

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Last Day on Earth

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Between the dust and debris,
There's a light surrounding you and me.

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If it were your last day on earth, what would you do? He's thought about it often, the writer in him coming up with all kinds of fanciful ideas. He'd spend it playing the largest game of laser tag the world has ever seen with his daughter, bounding across the rooftops of New York because, why not? He'd spend it making and eating every concoction of food known to man, manically writing down the crazy recipes to be remembered by. He'd spend it making love to his fiancé, finding every sensitive spot on her body that makes her scream out loud and whimper in pleasure. He'd spend it in a theatre with his mother, delivering lines of love and regret and telling the story of his life in loud and obnoxious ways.

But that's the inner child in him, the part that wouldn't want to see the truth of it, the part of him that wouldn't know how to deal with all the complex emotions of knowing about his impending death. That's the part of him he wishes he could embrace today, because god, he needs something fun right now. He needs to forget and live his last day in freedom and smiles instead of this.

They had spent what was left of the night waiting on standby for the redeye back to New York. He wanted to spend his last day with his family in the place he calls home. But now that he's here he realises that everything is just too much. It's all making him feel ill and dizzy.

He looks across his desk at the sunlight streaming into his office. This had been his solace, his comfort for years of loneliness. This had been the place where his greatest characters had been born, his greatest stories told. And they weren't the ones on paper. His daughter's inquisitive eyes had feasted upon his shelves of books from such a young age and as she grew Rick knew she would keep that curiosity, that drive and ambition, that she would make him proud. His mother had imparted so much wisdom upon him here. She had taken him by the hand and guided him somewhat theatrically through the many minefields of life. And Kate, his Kate. She had come alive here. She had marched in here before everything, before they were even friends and whether she had known it or not she had just come across the greatest challenge and greatest joy of her life.

As the shadows in the room start to shorten he remembers why he's here in the first place. He had been granted return to New York on the proviso that he was back in DC by the afternoon in case there were any break throughs on a cure. He had been looking for a flight and wishing his usual travel agent was awake at this time of the morning, when a sleepy red head made her way in.

"Hey dad, what happened yesterday?" she asks, coming around the desk to give him a kiss on the cheek, her tone calm and even despite her father having been taken from the loft rather eventfully a day ago. Pitfalls of having it happen so many times before. "And why are you booking flights back to DC? Shouldn't you get Chelsea to do that? You remember what happened last time with the whole luggage situation."

He smiles briefly, he does remember, "It's okay, I'll only need carry on this time." He deliberately doesn't answer her first question. He just wants one more second of peace with his daughter.

Just one.

"Short trip?"

And just like that his one second is up.

He can feel his heart pumping faster and faster in his chest and the pain pulsing from it is like someone has clenched it in their fist. He watches the tears roll down her porcelain cheeks and longs for the days when a kiss could make her hurt go away. She curls into a ball on his lap and sobs until the tears stop coming and she's just wheezing dry air. He knows her throat must be sore so he moves to go get her some water, but she just pushes him back down and hugs him tighter. Some part of him yearns for his fantasy world where he would be winning an epic game of laser tag, the other part of him just never wants to let go of his little girl.

Martha walks in on them only minutes later and knows immediately that something is wrong. And so Rick is forced to retell his horrible fate, careful to interject wherever possible that everyone is still working round the clock to find the antidote to this toxin. Because there has to be something out there. There just has to be.

The day passes by in a blur after that and before he knows it they're back on a plane bound for DC. Money had never been an issue and today was no different. He had purchased four first class tickets for the hour long flight. No matter the outcome of the day he wants the people he loves most with him.

"This toxin is designed to affect your respiratory system, so we are going to hook you up to a ventilator for the time being until your team finds a solution."

Rick isn't really paying attention but sort of just going through the motions as the doctors at the hospital slowly surround him and place needles in his arms and watch him with concern. Their voices sound like they're coming to him through water and he's not sure if that's just a symptom of his toxin or that he is just purely not interested in anything they have to say. His eyes are always trained on his family, on the people he loves, just over the shoulders of all the people in white coats.

He can feel his breaths getting weaker, his heart trying harder and harder to keep up with the dwindling supply of oxygen. It physically hurts, but more than that, it emotionally hurts him. His fingers itch to reach out and take someone's hand, anybody's hand. He can feel his vision blurring and he wants comfort, he wants to know it's all going to be okay.

As his periphery closes in he catches a glimpse at the clock on the wall. 4:30pm. He vaguely remembers someone saying that if they haven't heard from anyone by now, they can't help. He feels an empty breath leave him as a lone tear runs down his cheek.

Kate's warm hand follows the path of it, whispering words to him that he can't make out over the shrill sound of something else, something so familiar.

A phone.

The darkness pushes back for a second as Kate answers the ringing device.

Please, he tries to say, please don't go.

And as though reading his mind, she turns around then.

The last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness, into his dream world of how he should have spent this day, is her beaming smile.

And he is happy.

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