He'd had brushes with death before. Ever since he'd started playing cop, he'd grown to realize that not everything was a game. Some things were serious, and he had to treat them as such. There were creeps out there. Mangled, sick imitations of humans who would cheat and lie and kill just to get ahead. He'd always understood the logic of it though. It was sick and twisted, he knew. But there was a logic.
But this? This left more than just a bitter taste in his mouth.
This was pure poison, and he could already feel it eating away at his insides, his soul. This was all-consuming. A different kind of death that killed you from the inside.
"Richard?"
A sliver of light slipped through the crack in the door and grew as Martha Rogers stepped in the dark and dismal room. She could only see the glint of the glass of scotch her son was holding in the dim lighting. He sat in a chair, staring into the amber liquid, hunched over like a lost man. "Richard, you have to come out of here sooner or later." Castle didn't respond. Only bore his eyes further into his drink, of which he hadn't even attempted to sip yet. Martha looked up at the ceiling.
"What about Alexis? What about her? She needs you right now. If you don't get out of this room for any other reason, you should at least check on Alexis." Still, no response.
"Darling, the funeral is today. You wanted it as soon as possible. You have to-"
"I know!" Castle rarely raised his voice to his mother, and he looked away shamefully before looking back. "I know." He said more calmly, staring into Martha's eyes. He searched them for a minute longer, flicking back and forth between her identical blue orbs, looking for a sign of forgiveness or even annoyance or hurt.
There was nothing but pity.
Castle set the glass of scotch down on the table in front of him, stood up in silence, and walked out the door. He tried to ignore the sigh of the woman he had just left in the dark as he plodded towards his bedroom to pick out a suit.
"You ready?" His daughter's sweet young face was a breath of fresh air. A small weight off his heavy shoulders. Rick Castle nodded. "Let's go."
He locked his left arm with Alexis, and his right with Martha. Castle looked down the long hallway they were in. It wasn't somber, just plain. White walls and a bluish carpet. Doors on either side leading to little sitting rooms and parlors. "Jim?" Martha called out to one of the doors behind them. "It's time."
Jim Beckett stepped into the hallway. He looked older and more weary than ever. Alexis, ever gracious, offered her hand and he took it.
Whatever pain Castle was feeling, he felt for the weathered man.
He had no one left.
When the four got to the end of the hallway, there was another door that they all knew would lead to the church. Why she wanted to have it in a church, Castle couldn't guess. But he knew it must have some significance, because these kinds of things always did with her.
The makeshift family broke links and began to walk through the door. But Castle couldn't do it. His eyes floated downward to the ring on his finger.
"You sure you wanna do this?" He asked honestly, staring at the crowd waiting for them outside and the impatient-looking priest. "With me? I mean..."
"Castle." She said, a bronze curl bouncing in front of her face as she gave him a smirk, sure he was joking. Her eyes looked even more green against the sheer white of her dress. The writer continued to protest."No, I'm serious! I mean, you saw what happened with the other two..." The woman raised her eyebrows.
"Well I'm not the other two." She stared at him to make sure he got the point. Then her eyes narrowed. "Here." She said. "I want you to have something." She slipped a silver band off her ring finger and on to his. "I know we're supposed to give these to each other at the altar..but I figure, what difference does two minutes make?"
She was right, she definitely wasn't like the other two.
"Remember, Castle." She grasped his shoulders and rose up on her toes to meet his ear. Her lips brushed his skin, giving him goosebumps, as she whispered, "I'm a one and done kind of girl."
Castle tried to get a grip on himself as he twisted the silver band around his finger. If he could just get through this... He pushed the doors open, the memory of his wedding day drifting around him like a sweet perfume.
There were so many people.
The church was packed. There were people just sitting outside, looking in through the windows, paying their respects. For a minute, Castle felt as if he were trapped in a bubble. Everything he heard sounded muffled and distorted, just out of reach. Faces in a sea of black followed him as he took his seat at the very front, next to his family and Jim Beckett, facing the podium head on.
As the ceremony started, Castle looked sideways and caught a glimpse of Esposito in the front, face hard as stone, next to Ryan, who's cheeks shone with wet, grasping Jenny's hand.
The writer broke out of his bubble just in time to hear someone at the podium say, "And now, Richard Castle, partner and friend, will say a few words."
Alexis squeezed his hand as he got up from his seat and made his way to the podium. Castle made his way to the podium and started to grope around in his pocket for the speech he prepared, but stopped himself. He didn't need it.
The microphone gave a slight squeak at the moment of pressure when Richard Castle grasped its handle like a lifeline.
"My wife and I knew each other long before we got married. Five years, in fact. I have a sneaking suspicion that there was a pool in the precinct as to how many years it would actually take, if we ever got hitched. For those of you who know me, or have even read about me in the tabloids, you'd know that I'd been married two times before. My first wife brought me my daughter, my second wife got me a job."
There was a hesitant laugh at this.
"But neither of them were like her. She was different. She was the kind of girl who would wear sweats in the morning and not be embarrassed about it. She could cook you a gourmet breakfast if you asked her nicely. She would sing in public, and go to the bar for a good drink. She was confident and strong and stunning. Every time I saw her she stunned me. Her beauty was great and her personality was greater. She made me understand the sacredness of good times through her bad ones. I don't know if a day goes by where I don't wonder what I did to deserve such a woman"
"She always told me, "Castle, I'm a one and done type of girl." And though my past decrees that I can't say the same, I can say that there never was and never will be another woman like Katherine Beckett. She was extraordinary and remarkable. She was the light in my life, right up there with my daughter and my mother. I will miss her more than I can say. She has made me into who I am today, and who I will be for all the days to come. I love you, Kate."
Through the silent tears welling up in his eyes, Castle could see the black-clad man in the back of the church, beckoning the writer with a wave of his hand.
"Thank you." said Rick as he stepped down from the podium. He excused himself and made his way to the back of the church, catching the confused stares from his family.
The black-clad man led Castle into the hallway. "What are you doing?" asked Castle, feverishly wiping his eyes. "I'm in the middle of a service! Can't you at least be respectful?"
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Castle." The man replied quickly. "But you said to let you know as soon as we found something." He took a small, leather-bound book out of his pocket. "This was meant for you."
Castle opened the front cover of the journal. On the inside was an inscription, written in black ink.
To Richard Castle
Love, Kate
