A/N: You guys are just amazing! Your reviews have kept me excited about this story, and I've been writing whenever I can! I've got the rest of the story outlined, and it's all figured out, now I just need to write it! Just so you guys know, I'm planning on 13 Chapters, which is way longer than this story was supposed to be! All of your amazing reviews have given me the encouragement to make this as detailed and complex as I can, so here's a HUGE thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this! Now, enough of my rambling, here's the next chapter, should have Chapter 8 up Friday!


If only if only I had the luxury of retrospect.
Sounds like you're speaking some sort of foreign dialect
If only something precious as time had a price
Instead of endlessly taking its toll on my soul.

Oh so many if onlys running through my mind.
What ifs and storybook endings time after time.
If only if only you coulda been mine
I'd take you.

Into the blue
And faded world of my daydreams.
I feel I'm falling deeper everyday
Melting away down a dark and endless abyss.
I'm grasping at straws and I'm chasing the wind
As I fall on my face over and over again.

Into the Blue, by Sara Jackson-Holmon


It was all there. Everything. He loved her, he'd nearly solved her mother's murder, and he had proof. Kate tenderly folded the letter back up, and tucked it in her jean pocket, determined to never part from it. Next, she leaned back under the couch, retrieving an envelope which holds several documents and reports on Coonan's victims. Next, she paged through a binder filled with summaries of all Dale's cases. After that came a folder filled with notes written by an anonymous Fire Investigator who Castle had brought the details of the warehouse fire too. There was another folder filled with graphs and charts that several different experts had created for Rick that gave information about the forensics of the case. Below that was three notebooks, all filled with his notes, guesses, and inferences. And finally, at the bottom of the safe was the file. The one that had started all of this. She carefully picked it up, turning it over in her hands.

This file was the reason why her mother was dead.

She dropped it in disgust, and carelessly shoved it back into the safe. Not able to bear it, she started putting everything back, but as she turned to reach a binder that sat behind her, she saw a framed picture sitting on his desk.

She remembered that day. It was the morning after Castle had purchased The Old Haunt. The night before had been spent there with Roy, Lanie, the boys, herself, and Castle after solving the previous owner's murder case. That particular morning, she was busy doing paperwork, when he had run into the precinct and jumped into his chair that sat next to her desk.

"Breathe, Castle. What is it?" She asked, curious, but not trying to seem so.

"Who's got the paperwork that deems him official owner of The Old Haunt? This guy!" He explained eagerly, pulling a certificate out of his pocket. In order to get out of paperwork, Ryan and Esposito casually migrated over to congratulate Castle. During that time, Ryan had snapped a photo of her and Castle. Rick's face was elated, a wide smile was flashed at the camera, and he held up the certificate proudly. She had a broad smile resting on her lips, and was staring at him. Looking at it now, there was no other way for her to describe it. It was a look of complete adoration. That had been one of her favorite cases, mostly because it was one of Castle's favorite cases. He'd been so excited about The Old Haunt...

Her eyes went from the picture of better times to the couch, where she knew that file was hidden.

This file was the reason why her partner, Richard Castle, was dead, too.

But she owed it to him. She owed it to her partner to figure this out. She had to look at this file, she had to. She already knew what was in it, but until she saw it, she didn't really know. Opening the file and staring it down meant dedicating herself to this; it meant really knowing the truth. But walking away, never really looking at it meant giving up. But on what? On whom? Him? Her mother? Herself? And he had wanted her to solve this... but he... he hadn't wanted her to die, either. What was more important to him?

"What do you want me to do, Rick?" She whispered, wishing he could tell her.

But he couldn't answer her anymore; she knew that. And so, she carefully picked up every single file sitting around her and placed it all back in the safe. She made sure it was locked, made sure the floor boards were in place, and put the key back. She took a deep breath, and opened the door to the living room, leaving his office.

Alexis was waiting for her. She needed answers, Kate understood, but right now, Kate couldn't give them to her.

"Did you find anything?" Alexis asked, desperate.

"Maybe." Kate stared ahead blankly. "I need to go sort some things out." She looked Alexis in the eye. "But, Alexis, I promise you, we'll figure this thing out. 'Kay?"

The redhead nodded in response. With that, Kate whispered a good-bye and left.


Kate sits in the thick, cushioned armchair. Her feet were curled up underneath her, her arms wrapped around her legs, trying her hardest to keep it together. Across from her sits her therapist, Dr. Burke, a quiet man with dark skin and a deep, soothing voice.

"Kate, I'm glad you came to talk to me. I'm sorry about your loss. Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks her. But she doesn't want to talk. She relives those moments every single second; she doesn't want to have to speak them out loud as well. But Rick would want her to do this, to talk it out, and so, she speaks.

"It was a normal day." She starts strong, but grows weaker and weaker. "A normal case, nothing we couldn't handle. But then, when we went to this warehouse for the case, and we were ambushed. There were three of them. They thought I knew something new about my mother's case, but I hadn't touched it in months. They tried to get me to talk by using Rick, but I didn't know what they wanted me to say. Then, they tried to break Rick, and he admitted. He told them everything that he knew, and that I didn't know anything. They took me away, and they... they... I tried to get to him, I really did. I tried so hard. But I couldn't... I couldn't... before they, before h-he..." She shakes her head, unable to finish.

"Before they what?" Burke prompts. She just shakes her head. "Kate, you need to come to terms with what happened."

"They... the short one... he took out a gun and, and he s-shot... he-" She tries to say it so hard, but it's like her tongue can't form the words.

"Kate." Burke's voice is assertive, almost bossy. "You need to tell me what happened."

"I-I can't." She admits weakly. "I can't."

"You can, and you must! What happened?" He's nearly shouting at her now, and she's starting to get angry. This is supposed to be her time to talk to someone, not be forced to tell him how she's to blame for Rick's death. She starts to realize that statement's faults, when he speaks again. "Kate! Tell me, now!"

"No... no..." She crying now, leaning away from him, from this monster. She can't. She won't say it, she refuses.

"Kate-" His voice is stern, a warning. She doesn't know what will come next, but she's fed up with it. Fed up with him, with the situation, with being alone, with this case, with her life.

"DAMN IT, THEY SHOT HIM!" She screams at him, jumping out of her chair and pacing the room like a mad-man. "The short, fat one pulled out a gun and shot Rick right in the chest! I watched, right from the office window! I saw how his shirt was ripped open by the bullet, how the blood stained his shirt, how he fell to the ground. I watched him as he lied there and didn't move! I watched it all." She collapses back into her chair, and covers her face, trying to hide the weakness from the therapist. "I watched him die."

From deep within her, a sob escapes, and others follow. Soon, she's blind from the tears and her chest aches from the shallow breaths. Her scar is burning. She knows how he felt; she knows the feeling of a bullet ripping through your flesh. But she knows the feeling of being comforted as you die, and he does not. And he never will.

"Kate." Burke starts. His voice is calm again, the soothing, deep tone that she is used to. "Are you aware of The Five Stages of Grief?" She nods in response, so she continues. "Well, right now, you are so deep in denial that you are unable to even say what happened. You need to face that in order to move on."

"Why him? I'd give anything to... if only I could..." She mumbles, mostly to herself, but the man sitting across from her hears.

"If only you could what?"

"I don't know. Do something. If only solving this case could bring him back... but... I-..." She doesn't know how to finish.

"But you know it won't." Burke offers. She nods.

"Castle's gone. I know that. I-" She takes a shaky breath. "I need to figure out what to do about it."

"Well, Kate, what do you think the options are?" He asks softly. He's not demanding answers anymore; he's back to asking questions. She's made enough progress to satisfy him for now, but she needs to understand more in order to satisfy herself. She needs a plan.

"Rick... Rick left me new information about my mother's murder. If I use that, I think I could find out who killed her, and that means I will know who killed him, too. But he wanted me to live. If I start digging again, my life is no longer protected. And Rick died to save me. Throwing that away would be wasting his life... his death... and also my life, and my death. I just- I can't figure out which is more important to him." She explains. "And if I decide not to keep looking, I'm letting down my mom, Roy, and him. I'm letting myself down. But Roy and Castle died to save me... so how... what... what do they want?"

"You said Mr. Castle left you a letter with information about your mother's murder?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think he did this?"

"I don't know." That's a lie, and she knows it. He's told her twice now, and he deserves better. "Because he loves me. He told me in the letter. He still doesn't- didn't know that I heard him when I was shot. I think he wants me to solve it because he knows it's important to me."

"Why does he think it's important to you?" Burke asks, a small, satisfied smile starting to appear on his face. She takes it as encouragement. She must be doing something right.

"Because I've let it drive me. I've let it stand between us." It's hard for her to admit the next fact, but she knows it's time to finally acknowledge it. "I've let it rule my life."

"And do you think Richard knew you would try to find the person behind all of this if he gave you that information?"

"Yes." She replied honestly.

"So, what do you think he wants you to do?" He asks again, a hopeful look on his face.

It takes Kate a while to figure out how to answer. She knows what he wants, but what does he really want her to do?

"I think..." She stops and thinks for a while longer. "I think he wants me to have a long and full life. But he understands that I can only do that if I put this thing to rest. So, he would want me to proceed with caution, but figure it out." She glances up at Dr. Burke, looking for some hint that she is on the right track. He is smiling and nodding at her, as though she has finally seen the light. And she kind of has. She gets it now. It's a compromise between them, one that they never managed when he was alive, and she regrets it.

"I think you just answered your own question, Kate. My question is, what are you going to do?"

"I'm... I'm going to put this thing to rest." She starts weak, but ends strong. She knows what she must do now. "I need to go. Thank you."

She runs out of the office, leaving the smiling, satisfied therapist sitting behind her.


It took longer to get there than she thought it would, but it doesn't matter. She has a feeling he will know when she gets there. They probably will, too, but she doubts they'll kill her. It's just standard stuff, tracking the victim's whereabouts.

After slamming the door of the Taxi cab shut, she starts marching down the block. The Checker Board Diner sits on the corner of two streets. Its faded paint and tattered awning give it a run-down look, but she isn't here for the food, or the restaurant itself.

She enters the diner carefully, scanning the entire room. There is a family eating in the corner booth, a few men lined up at the bar, and a few other occupants sitting in small groups or alone. She's just in time for an early lunch, nothing suspicious. Noting the sign to her right that tells customers to seat themselves, she grabs a newspaper from the table by the door and heads over towards a booth to her right.

The waitress comes almost immediately, and Kate quickly orders coffee, a chicken sandwich, and the soup of the day.

Then, she sits and waits for a man named John who holds all the answer