The Lady of Versailles
"…Mercy O Heavens, beg mercy for me!
If a God is within you, with a way in you
A way that I never knew
Pray unto him for me!
My own heart is dead, prayer drained from my tongue
The hands lie limp, my hope undone
How long? Until when? How long?"
-H.N. Bialik, "On the Slaughter"
The main thing Beckett recalls of that night are the ear piercing screams.
Screams of shock, desperation, pain and terror- and she finds it hard to focus on the here and now, loud voices invade her reality and she just…can't. think.
Then reality catches up with her, and she nearly screams along with the hundreds of people buried under the rubble.
A desperate howl, like of a helpless animal, bursts through the abyss, and it takes her a second to realize it comes from her own lungs.
Her body's on fire. She can barely move. Her arms and legs won't cooperate, and her back and pelvis feel like Jell-o.
Beckett tries inhaling, but the air is filled with dust and her lungs are about give out. She coughs, licking her dry lips and tries again.
'Castle'… her mind races, 'He was right there, in my line of sight… where is he?'
She must find him. He's here somewhere, buried under the rubble, probably trying to reach her.
Pushing the physical pain aside, Beckett forces her body to make the slightest move; the attempt brings forth a new kind of torment.
She couldn't care less, though.
Around her all hell breaks loose. Voices mingle together as people cry out in distress.
Turning aside, trying to roll over and get up, she's blocked by concrete. One of the walls fell and crushed on top of her; there's no way she can move it on her own. Not in this state.
Curving her back and gasping at the painful jolt, she rolls to her left, and is glad to discover it's easier to crawl underneath that way.
Her shoulder is limp, and Beckett guesses it's probably broken as she somehow comes to a standing position. Her mahogany-colored hair is covered with dust and her dress is stained with blood.
As Beckett rises to stand, she takes in her surrounding and nearly falls again.
A black hole replaces what was up until 5 minutes ago a three-story wedding venue.
Pillars leaning on top of each other, the remains of the top floor about to collapse on their heads, and down below, injured guests cry out in panic, those who can stand calling out for their dear ones who just got buried under the rubble.
"Heeelpp!" Beckett hears a scream from somewhere ahead of her, "Someone please, help us!"
"Eric!" another voice calls, "Eric, are you alright? Answer me!"
"Oh, God! Ellie! Ellie, where are you?!"
One step at the time, Beckett, ignoring the dust sticking to her lashes, joins the pack of voices. "Cas…Castle?" she cries out, voice hoarse. "Castle? Where are you?!"
At the next step, she feels a twinge of pain, and realizes that in the fall she lost one of her hills. The pain is insignificant, though; she has to find her husband.
Right leg forward, she hears a snapping sound and looking down, she slaps a hand to her mouth, and a silent scream escapes her.
There, under her feet, lies the body of a young girl; she's looking up, eyes wide open in terror. Empty, lifeless eyes.
It takes her a second to realize she just stepped on Molly's body. Their teenage waitress. Probably just broke one of the girl's bones.
Holding down her whimper, Beckett bends down to close Molly's eyes with her free hand. After a second, she mumbles- "Rest in peace, poor girl" before slowly standing again.
Waddling through the endless destruction, her eyes scan her environment, desperately searching for her husband.
At the faraway corner, hidden behind debris, a young woman tries to shake her injured husband awake. The man grunts in pain and his wife looks at the hole above, where she just stood minutes earlier. "Jesus, help us!" she cracks as tears stream down her cheeks.
The cries for help around her make Beckett's head pound, but even she can hear a voice from somewhere above calling, "Are you all alive down there?!"
Lifting her head up, Beckett can make out the shadows of few of the guests; they're standing on a small portion of floor which remained intact. Staring down, shocked, there's not much they can do to help the hundreds of victims bellow. "Help is on its way!" someone calls out, "hang in there, we're gonna get you out!"
But the shouts never cease, it's impossible to make anything out of the mess, and Beckett cannot trust any rescue team. It will take hours, if not days, to pull the last person out of here, alive or dead.
They're standing on their own graves. She has to find Castle.
"Attention 44 to 59 care-units! Dispatch received an MCI alert, Versailles Wedding Hall, north Manhattan. I repeat, we have an MCI at Versailles Wedding Hall! Third floor collapsed, we need equipment unit and emergency unit in place!"
"Dispatch, this is EMU 58, on my way to Manhattan. How many people were present at the hall?"
"Seventeen hundred and twenty souls, EMU 58. Approximately 350 guests were on the collapsing dance floor."
"Jesus!" the driver hisses then hits the gas.
"We open this evening broadcast with most recent breaking news. Earlier this evening, a wedding celebration turned deadly. A couple in love, exchanging vows, was about to become husband and wife, when suddenly, their world literally fell apart. We still cannot determine the cause of this tragic turn of events, Brittany, but we do know that approximately 40 minutes ago, a large portion of the third floor of the four-story Versailles wedding venue collapsed, burring dozens, if not hundreds of people under tons of rubble…
"Daddy… Daddy…." The little girl pulls on his pajamas-sleeves stubbornly.
"Mhmmm..wh..what?" Kevin Ryan mumbles. Blinking in the darkness, he tries forcing himself awake. The little girl stands by his bed expectantly.
Rubbing his eyes, he gives another confused murmur. What time is it, anyway? Must be past midnight?
Ever since Sarah Grace got the concept of potty-training, she's been insisting on waking him up to use the bedpan at least three times a night. While being proud of his baby girl, he was growing exhausted.
"Ok, baby," he offers a yawn, before mumbling sleepily, "Let's go."
"No, daddy…" Sara-Grace shakes her head, making her blonde curls bounce. Stretching her little arm out, she hands him his device, "Phone."
And indeed, his phone is ringing non-stop. How come he only now realizes it? Shaking his head, he offers his daughter a thank you, and making sure Jenny is still fast asleep on her own side of the bed, he takes the call. "Hello?" he asks, not even checking the caller ID. On this God-forsaking hour? It must be homicide.
"Ryan!" Esposito's panicked voice calls from the other side of the line.
Ryan is fully alert in a second. Esposito sounds scared-shitless, and it doesn't take much to scare him. Something must be seriously wrong.
"Espo, what is it?" he asks, his tone makes his precious, innocent child tilt her head curiously.
At his answer, Ryan jumps out of the bed, all dizziness forgotten.
"WHAT?!"
