TWO

Kate managed to hold herself together emotionally until her partners showed up. The moment Ryan and Esposito encased her in a group hug, her bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to flow. They both expressed how sorry they were; Ryan even appeared to be crying a bit himself. Mostly, though, they just stood in silence, too shocked to process what had happened.

"I just don't understand," Ryan said finally. "None of this makes any sense."

"Shit like this never does, bro." Esposito commented.

Her devastated haze momentarily fading, Kate's cop brain surged back to life. "No, the case—we have to think about the case. You know Castle; he'd want us to figure out the story even though he's—" She cut herself off short and cleared her throat, ridding her voice of emotion. "Even though he's not here."

"What story? Everyone's dead."

Kate bobbed her head. "Including Agnes Fields—we haven't yet connected her to any of this. Did you find anything before I called you?"

"We left a message for her former son-in-law, Ron Brandt. He does a lot of business overseas, though; might not even be in the country." Ryan explained. He pulled out his phone and displayed a DMV picture on the screen. "He does have a penthouse on the Upper East Side though so we-"

"Wait." Kate cut him off, looking closer at the screen. "Is this him? Ron Brandt?" When Ryan nodded she shook her head. "No, no—this is Sal Martino—the man who had a seizure in the bank. I gave him to the EMTs myself!"

The male detectives exchanged looks. "He was one of the hostages?"

"Yeah, he was in there and—oh God!" Kate proclaimed when the horrifying realization hit her. "He was in on it; he orchestrated this whole thing."

"Including getting out of the bank before it blew to kingdom come." Esposito cursed under his breath.

Sal—Ron—whoever he was had been in front of them the whole time—the whole time! Now he was god only knew where. If he faked the seizure, she imagined he had not suck around at the hospital for very long. He's killed dozens and he was in the wind. Her steely gaze returning, Kate turned to her partners. "I want you guys to turn over every rock until you find this guy."

Ryan nodded. "We'll call it in to dispatch. I'm sure they can get another team to-"

"No. You."

Ryan looked tentatively at Esposito, who conveyed his thoughts to their female colleague. "Don't you need us here, Beckett?"

She stepped up to them. "I need you to find the man responsible for killing Castle, Martha, and everyone else inside that bank building. You—both of you. You're the ones I trust to do this, because you've got stake in it; you'll get it done."

"Okay." Esposito agreed.

"What are you going to do Beckett?" Ryan asked hesitantly.

Kate glanced over her shoulder at the wreckage. The fire department crew that had been spraying the area with water for the prior twenty minutes appeared to be cleaning up. Now, rescue and recovery crews had been brought in along with heavy equipment so they could begin the delicate—but critical—task of sifting through the rubble.

"I need to stay here."

Ryan nodded in understanding then jerked his head towards the left in the direction of a red-headed teen girl clutching her phone to her ear. "What about her?" he asked softly.

Kate flicked her eyes to him. "She's been trying to call her boyfriend since it happened; he hasn't picked up yet."

"Ouch." Esposito commented. "Want us to have a uni take her home?"

Kate shook her head. "She says she won't leave and I can't blame her; she shouldn't have to be at the loft alone. She can stay with me for now. I…I need to be here when they bring him out."

Though it had been over an hour since the blast, the concept was still unfathomable. Richard Castle would not exit the bank of his own accord, jovial smile across his face. He would be carried out—god willing in one piece—placed in a black bag and taken to the coroner's office where Lanie (oh, she hoped it wasn't Lanie), Perlmutter or one of their colleagues would cut open his abdomen, weigh his organs, and determine his cause of death. She hoped it was instant; she hoped he hadn't suffered.

Despite the devastating situation and the fact that she knew she would break down into tears at regular intervals over the next few days, Kate would not leave the site until Castle's body had been recovered. They were partners to the very end. She would stand on the street all night if she had to, but she wouldn't leave him; she couldn't.

"Keep me updated, okay?" Kate asked before they parted.

The boys agreed. "Can we do anything else?" Ryan asked. "Gates said we can have whatever resources we need. We can send LT out here with coffee or food if you want."

Kate was about to refuse, but she had only been thinking of herself. Her stomach was too in knots to consume anything the, but she now had someone else to think of. "Ah, yeah. Alexis should have water and a sandwich—something light."

Ryan nodded. "We're on it."


"Excuse me, Sir?" Kate approached SWAT leader Peterson as he and his team were unloading gear from the now-defunct van. As the hostage situation had come to an abrupt and unexpected end his presence was no longer required and he needed to clear out so that the rescue teams could move in.

"Ah, Beckett." He nodded in her direction, his expression solemn. "I am sorry about your partner. Don't think any of us could have seen the day going as south as it did."

Not in ten thousand lifetimes, she thought. "No, sir. I, ah, just thought you should know—my team has discovered that the man who suffered a stroke inside the bank was not who he claimed to be. We believe he actually orchestrated this heist and is ultimately responsible for the bombing."

"Jesus Christ!" Peterson proclaimed. "One of the hostages? Well where is he?"

"For now, in the wind, but my team is on it and I assure you they're the best."

Peterson nodded, dipped his fingers in his pocket and procured a business card. "Well if they need anything—anything at all—you tell them to call me directly."

Kate took the card with a polite nod. "Thank you sir."

Peterson shook his head and cursed again. "And to think we pulled that son a bitch out of there ourselves…unbelievable…"

As Peterson walked away, Kate turned back to the bank rubble and shuddered involuntarily. She had been in the bank. She had scanned her eyes over the area, trying to take everything in while maintaining the ruse that she was just a lowly EMT, trying to save a patient having seizures. Oh, god, if she had only known. If she had read Castle's message while still inside the bank she would have flung him out the door, even at a cost to her own safety; she would have sacrificed herself for him, no questions asked. He had a daughter, he had a family, he was a world famous author. People would mourn him far more than they would have mourned her.

Castle; Castle's gone. Oh, god, Castle's gone.

The realization poured over her once more and she was forced to cover her mouth with her hands to suppress a sob. He was gone and she would never see his face again. His smile would never make her heart flutter so much she was convinced it would just fly out her chest. His touch against her would never set her skin aflame.

Had she known—oh, if she had known—she would have stayed in the bank, lingered as long as she could. She was so busy trying to deal with Sal—horrible, evil Sal—and get him on the gurney while also trying to take the paper Castle intended to palm to her without being caught she hadn't studied his face. If she had thought for one second it would be her final time seeing him she would have gazed at him for minutes on end, memorizing every inch, every crevasse. She would have mapped his eyes—every fleck of gray and gold—so that when she shut hers the canvass would appear and she'd never forget them, or their warmth, for as long as she lived. Now, her chance was gone, and she'd have to live with only pictures or recorded videos.

They would never be enough.


"Alexis. C'mon. You should—you should go back to the loft. I'll take you."

By two-thirty in the morning, Kate's weariness had reached an unparalleled point. Her feet and back ached for standing for almost the entire day. Her eyelids drooped and her fingers trembled almost continuously. Every step felt like an arduous task one that she only completed out of sheer will, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, hovering protectively around Alexis.

By that point in the wee hours almost all the spectators had left. A few family members of those presumed to be in the bank remained, but they stuck to their own clusters, holding each other, crying, and waiting for the news they both welcomed and dreaded. Other than taking a few trips to a nearby café to use the bathroom, Alexis had remained rooted to the sidewalk, but by two a.m. that was ridiculous. She was still a child at seventeen; she did not need to stand on a sidewalk all night long, even if Kate knew she would do the exact same thing had their positions been reversed.

"No." The girl replied stubbornly. "I'm not leaving."

"You've been here for almost seventeen hours." Kate reminded her.

Alexis looked back towards the rubble. "I'm not leaving."

Kate followed her lead and grazed her eyes over the working scene before them. At dusk, large floodlights were brought in to light the scene, so even though the sun had set hours before, it did not seem particularly dark, even at their position almost half a block away. A crew of at least forty men sifted through the rubble. They had made significant progress in the thirteen-plus hours since they started, shifting all the concrete and rebar into dumpsters or onto the street so that they could make their way down to what once was the ground floor where the bodies would be located. Still, even with thirteen hours of diligent work it hardly looked like they made a dent. If anything, the scene looked worse—more chaotic. Just looking at it made Kate's ankles feel a little weaker.

"Yeah, c'mon. We'll both go."

Though it pained Kate to leave her post, she needed to be realistic. She wanted to do as she'd said—to stay on the sidelines until Castle's body was removed from the wreckage, but she had not anticipated just how long that would take. Hell, at the rate they were going, it could even be another day.

All of Kate's adrenaline had been burned off early thanks to the impromptu hostage negotiation. With little food and probably too much coffee, she could feel her brain beginning to shut down. She felt sluggish and even the simple task of walking to the newly added portable toilets seemed to be a chore too much to handle. Her body craved sleep—even just a few hours—and then she'd be able to keep going; she'd be able to resume her post until the time came.

As the girl remained silent, Kate continued with, "Let's go and sleep for a few hours and then we'll come back in the morning; not much will have changed, I'm promise."

Alexis turned her head towards Kate and spat. "You also promised they'd be all right."

Okay, she deserved that, even if it did hurt, but she was beginning to grow too weary to fight. "Alexis."

"I'm not going and you can't make me."

Kate shook her head at the girls' defiance. Strictly speaking—Kate could. Alexis was a minor and she was an officer of the law, but she didn't want to have to play that card. Alexis needed allies, not foes, so she softened her tone. "Alexis please. Your father wouldn't want you to make yourself sick over this. C'mon, just a few hours. Take a nap, shower, and change your clothes and I promise you can come back and stay until they pull them out."

For thirty seconds, Alexis stared at her and then, with great reluctance, dropped her chin, stepped forward, and followed Kate down the sidewalk.


Alexis was silent during the short drive back to the Castle loft. She didn't speak as they walked into the building, stepped into the elevator, and ascended to the correct floor. It wasn't until she put the key into the lock and turned it that she looked over at Kate and asked in a nearly invisible voice, "What if they're gone?"

Then you could end up just like me, Kate thought to herself. Except, perhaps even worse. Alexis was eighteen months younger than Kate was when she lost her mother, but Alexis had lost both her father and grandmother. Not only had she lost an additional family member, but she had lost the sole members of her immediately family; her support system had vanished. When Kate experienced such a loss she at least had her father. Yes, it could be argued that once he descended into the bottle, he wasn't exactly "there" anymore, but that was not right away. In the immediate aftermath Kate had him, but Alexis had no one and that made Kate terrified for the girl.

As they stepped inside the apartment, Kate reached out and touched Alexis's shoulder gently. "If they're gone, we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this—Ryan, Espo, myself; we're all here for you."

Alexis walked slowly through the foyer, staring out at the dark apartment illuminated only by the muted glow of the clocks on the kitchen appliances and a green blinking light coming from Castle's office, presumably from their internet modem. Turning back to Kate, her voice rattling, Alexis concluded, "I'll have to leave here, everything."

Kate shook her head, certain that would not be the case. "Not if you don't want to. Your dad will have made sure everything was taken care of for you, I'm sure of it." Even if the custody situation was up in the air (an issue that would be resolved in less than three weeks) she was sure Rick's will was clear on inheritance. The girl before her was now a multi-millionaire, but Kate wasn't worried about that. If anyone would be sensible with money, Alexis would.

Nodding towards the stairs, Kate said. "Go on, try to get some sleep; I'm going to crash on the couch."

Alexis's tired, sunken eyes grazed up and down Kate's body. "You should probably take a shower first."

"I..." Kate paused and glanced down at herself for the first time. The black EMT uniform she'd borrowed was soiled and grimy thanks to her sixteen hour stint in a cloud of dust and soot. Though she had not looked in a mirror that day, she imagined her face and hair didn't fare much better. "Oh, yes; probably."


After retrieving her gym bag from her vehicle, Kate showered efficiently in the loft guest bathroom, took her bag into the spare bedroom—the one she had stayed in after her apartment blew up two years prior—and hovered in the doorway. The one bright note of the evening was that Ryan and Esposito had messaged her around midnight saying that they apprehended their suspect, Brandt, and that he had not harmed his ex-wife or child, who had evidently faked their deaths years earlier to escape the abusive man. Though she was glad Brandt would face justice, the news made Kate said; Castle would have loved the twist about the wife and son.

Though she remained deeply exhausted, Kate also felt restless, and knew sleep would not come even in the comfortable bed. Thinking some tea might help, she descended the stairs, taking in the ambient quiet of the apartment; the only sound filling the space was that of the city streets plus the hum of the refrigerator motor. Instead of turning towards the kitchen, Kate moved instead across the foyer and to the threshold of the master bedroom. She lingered there several moments, daring herself to cross over. Going into his personal space wouldn't be right, not without his permission, but tragically it was not possible for him to give permission anymore.

Pushing herself away from the door frame, Kate walked cautiously into the room, not wanting to run into anything in the dark and unfamiliar space. When her bare feet felt the edge of the rug surrounding the bed, she reached out her hand and groped for it, feeling her way along the mattress to the bedside table, where she flicked on the lamp. There it was; Castle's bed.

He'd made it that morning—well he'd toss the duvet up towards the pillows, but she imagined the sheets weren't exactly folded into hospital-corners beneath. The pillows on the side on which she stood were crushed and sitting at odd angles whereas those on the opposite side were neatly stacked against the headboard, waiting patiently for someone to slide in and occupy them.

That someone should have been her.

God it was her fault; it was all her fault. If she hadn't lied after she was shot. If she'd broke up with Josh in the hospital and told Castle she felt the same they would have had months together—months. Even if she hadn't done it right away, if she'd pressed the "send" button during one of the hundred times she picked up her phone over the summer they still could have made a go of it. But she hadn't; they hadn't.

They weren't a couple because of her.

Kate lifted her right hand and dusted it along the edge of the pillow closest to her. She sunk down onto the bed and brought her face to the indentation of the pillow. She breathed in and smelled Castle; his soap, his aftershave. If she listened hard enough she could hear his laugh echoing off the walls of the loft.

The detective breathed in again and her diaphragm spasmed. God, she missed him so much. It hadn't even been a day but the ache clawed at her insides so much she could hardly stand it.

He loved her. Richard Castle loved her and she had pretended that she didn't hear it; pretended that she didn't remember and for that she'd never forgive herself—not for as long as she lived.

They could have been happy together—they would have been, but they weren't all because what? She was terrified of how he felt about her? Of how she felt about him? She was terrified of letting in the man who had been so loyal, so kind, so supportive.

Kate collapsed forward on the bed consumed by her sobs; she knew she was being too hard on herself. She had every right to take a relationship at her own pace—particularly a relationship she wanted to take seriously, a relationship she wanted to make last. That was fair, and to the best of her knowledge Castle had no problem with it; he had still been there, by her side. Yet, in the wake of such a senseless event where she had no one to blame, she felt it easiest to blame herself.

Wanting to do anything to make herself feel less horrible, less like happiness had been permanently removed from her life, Kate switched off the lamp and curled herself up into a ball on Castle's side of the bed. She didn't use his pillow, not wanting to replace his scent with her own, but rested her head beside it, her fingers grazing against the bottom corner until her body gave in to sleep.


A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews & follows to this fic so far. As people have been commenting about it I have gone back and added a warning for minor character death to the first chapter. That should give you a pretty good idea of where we're going with this; sorry about not warning you sooner.

As a consolation to this sad chapter, I will post another part of Timer later today.