It hurts.
Watching the man who paid an assassin to stab her mother in a dark alleyway and leave her there, helpless, alone, bleeding to death...
Watching him stand there and talk to the press like he's some sort of hero to the people.
Like he's their savior, fighting corruption, even though he's done so much evil himself, and killed so many people.
People important to her.
People she loved.
Her lips purse to hide the tremble within them, her eyelids blink back the hot, wet tears brimming in her eyes.
Because it hurts, and she can't do a damn thing but bite her tongue to hold the truth that she knows at bay, seal her heart from the injustice of it all, and turn on her heel and walk the other way.
Away from her mother's murderer, Senator William H. Bracken.
Away from all of it.
She steps back inside the 12th and ducks her head as she steps quickly past the desk sergeant. At first she thinks she's slipped past him unnoticed, but he sees her, calls out to her with a grin on his face and a happy note to his voice.
"Hey, heard what you did out there last night. Good job, Beckett."
"Yeah," she replies, still not looking back at him, because if she did, he'd see the rogue tear that just snuck its way out of the corner of her right eye.
"Yeah," she says again, more muted this time. "Thanks."
She contemplates taking the stairs back up to Homicide's floor. It'd give her more time to compose herself, make sure her features were schooled and that she didn't give off the vibe of someone falling apart on the inside.
Because that's essentially all that she's been doing these past few days because of this case. With dealing with Bracken and having to save the goddamn monster's life, it's all steadily been taking its toll on her.
She's just been slowly, gradually falling apart because of it.
And she'd been doing so well, too. She hadn't needed to see Dr. Burke in months.
She'd been so happy.
That scene out on the sidewalk did nothing to help reassure her of the fact that the case is over, that working with Bracken is over—for now—because he'll still be out there. He'll still be free to walk the Earth, and her mother, her captain, everyone who ever met their end because they came across information that could have led to his undoing...
They'll all still be in the ground. Lifeless. Gone forever.
He gets to stand there and smile for the press, and she'll only ever get to see her mother smile in photographs. Portraits of a once beautiful, wonderful past that was ripped asunder on a cold, January night fourteen years ago.
Her mother's birthday was this week. She'd have been turning sixty-two this year.
But her mother is gone. She'll never see her smile again, never see her grow old. She'll never be able to introduce her to the man who changed her life for the better, helped pull her out of the shroud of darkness that Senator Bracken left her in, in the wake of Johanna's murder.
None of it. She's gone. Just...gone.
A handful of uniforms come walking down the steps just as she turns the corner to head for the staircase, and she feels the moisture leaking out of her eyes again.
She turns on her heel, heads back for the elevator, silently cursing herself for her weakness.
Why couldn't she keep it together for a few more hours and just let it all out when she got home?
Her shaky hand reaches out for the elevator call button and she presses down on it with two fingers that retreat into a closed fist down at her side just as soon as they release the button.
She can somewhat catch her blurry reflection in the shiny silver of the elevator doors, and she has to look away, afraid of what she'll see if she looks close enough at her appearance.
Her eyes are on her feet and the rest of the floor around her when the lift lets out that familiar, audible ding, and the doors slide open.
A single occupant steps forward, and stops right in front of her.
"Kate."
She lifts her eyes to him at his soft, heartfelt tone, to find his worried blue eyes staring back at her.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and his hand circles her wrist, gently tugging her with him as he takes backward steps into the elevator. She comes to him readily, not a single objection.
He presses a button to shut the doors, but doesn't make an effort to press any other button for a destination for them.
Bless him. He always knows what she needs.
"No," she admits, finally answering him, her eyes glistening with even more unshed tears. She tries a smile for him, but her heart isn't in it at all.
His arms come around her then, enveloping her in his strong embrace, and she melts into his arms, her own wrapping around his waist while she tucks her face into his chest and just breathes through it all. The pain, the memories, the uncertainty of the future.
Castle reaches out to press another button then, probably the one for Homicide's floor, and the same hand returns to her back, rubbing soothing circles round and round.
The elevator starts its slow ascent and he says to her, "I talked to Ryan and Esposito. They said they'd take care of the rest of the paperwork for the case if you wanted to duck out early, head home."
She wants to argue with him and say that she's fine, that she doesn't need to, but she knows her voice will crack and break with the lie. She's done enough lying and hiding from him in the past year and a half to last a lifetime. No more.
But god, she's so sick of being a burden to the team when she can't pick up the slack due to being such an emotional mess.
So she says nothing in response, just grips the fabric of his coat tighter as she pulls him closer to her, buries herself into him even further.
His wide palm stops circling at her lower back then, and he squeezes her gently, his warm lips pressing into the top of her head. She sighs with it, but then he pulls back from her, cups her cheek with his hand, his thumb raising her chin so that he can see her face.
Another tear drop falls against her will, and he wipes it away with a quick swipe of his thumb.
"I think it'd be a good idea, Kate."
She ducks her head, nodding, because he's right.
She's reached her limit for it all today, and as always, he knows what she needs, even if she herself refuses to see it, admit to it.
The elevator slows to a stop, and Castle leans in, kissing first the tip of her nose, then her forehead. She shuts her eyes at the contact, relishing the comfort of him for a second longer.
The doors slide open.
"I'll go get us a cab," he tells her, his hands falling away from her.
She reaches out, her hand snagging his, and she gives it a little squeeze.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
He nods his head and squeezes her hand back before she lets him go.
"See you in a few," is the last thing he says before she steps off and the doors close on him behind her.
She takes five minutes in the bathroom to clean up her eyes before she faces the boys, thanking them for taking over the rest of the case for her.
"You know we've got your back, Beckett," is all Espo will say.
Ryan gives her a empathetic smile and urges her to go on home, so she hands them over what she has left on her desk and grabs her things, heads for the elevator.
Bracken is gone by the time she comes back down and steps out of the 12th Precinct. Some of the press remain loitering about near their news vans that pack the street. A few reporters were also standing in various places finishing up their stories in front of a camera.
It makes her stomach churn a little, knowing just how much positive attention Bracken will be getting because of all of this.
"Come on," Castle's voice breaks through her perusal of the media scene, and he steps up beside her, a soft hand at her lower back as he ushers her with him. "Cab's right down the street."
They walk in silence for half a block, just past the last news van on their side of the street, and he opens the cab door for her, allowing her to slide in first.
Castle rattles off her home address to the cabbie once he clambers inside and shuts the door behind him.
She can feel his concerned gaze on her while she watches the city go by outside the cab window.
"You said I was remarkable, the other day," she says quietly, eyes never leaving the glass.
"I did."
"I don't feel very remarkable," she confesses. "Not after all of this."
She both feels and hears it when he shifts closer to her in the back seat, his right hand falling to her right thigh as his left arm comes up around her shoulders, tugging her back to him.
She comes to him, falling easily into his embrace, her head on his shoulder, nose dipped down into his neck.
"But you are," he says at length, keeping his voice down in deference to the cab driver that might overhear. "What you did last night? Running after him and saving that bastard's life? I could never have put my life on the line for a guy like him. But you," he lifts the hand on her thigh to brush the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear and rubbing his thumb reverently at her temple. "You didn't flinch. You knew in your heart that McManus was innocent and you went out there and did your job, saving not only Bracken, but hundreds of people at that keynote address in the process. You may have struggled with it at first—hell, we all did—but your courage and strength through all of this...it's just amazing, Kate, how remarkable, how extraordinary you are."
She sucks in a shuddering breath and releases it against his throat, one of her hands clutching at his green shirt beneath his coat coming up to stroke his cheek instead.
"You're so good to me," she murmurs quietly. "And I don't deserve it. Not the way I keep pushing you away, keeping things from you."
"You came to me when you were ready, Kate. That's what matters to me in the end. That you're here right now with me, letting me take care of you. That's all I could ever ask for after a week like this."
A moment of quiet passes between them before he says, "We'll get him eventually, and we'll do it the right way. Bring him to justice."
When she lifts her head from his shoulder, this time the smile she gives him is genuine. She grips his hand with her free one and pulls him forward by his cheek with the other, their lips meeting in a slow, languid kiss. His arm around her tugs her flush into his side after they part, and her forehead dips down, coming to rest against his cheekbone.
"Stay with me tonight?" she murmurs against his jaw, pressing her lips there, too, lingering.
"No place else I'd rather be."
This is my personal headcanon for what occurs between the time Beckett leaves Bracken to the press and to where we find her and Castle at her apartment all cozied up on the couch together.