Kate Beckett woke up sore and confused. Her body groaned with each breath and rebelled against her as her fingertips began a sluggish movement, carding through the sand. The sun beat down upon her, warming her face and bringing complacency to her protesting limbs.
Opening her green eyes, she began to search around, noting the pristine water and the slight breeze which carried the scent of salt water and brine. Kate turned her head, and saw Castle, a languid smile on his face and he soaked up the warmth. Her hand snagged a shell, as she looked behind her, noting the large house behind her.
Complete with green grass, and crisp sharp lines, the house was beautiful in its simplicity. Beckett racked her mind, trying to remember where she had seen it before. The memory came to her in a flash, revealing a pixilated image on Castle's I-Phone.
It was the Hampton's beach house in all its summer glory, freshly painted a stark white and worn by the salty breeze. She smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. She was happy here, actually and legitimately happy. But then it all disappeared and she was somewhere else entirely and she missed the Hampton sun.
She could feel grit beneath her, and the smell of blood ran rancid beneath her nose. A small breeze made its way across her tense body, and she strained her ears. There was no sound. No shuffled footsteps, no cars driving buy, no trucks honking their horns. Her eyes remained sealed in shock, and she fought to pry them open, to disobey the instinct of her body.
Brick pressed into her back and through her leather jacket she knew she was in an alley. The scent of blood grew stronger and she forced herself forward, the effort straining her sore arms. She crawled despite the feeling of crushed glass beneath her palms, and stopped when her fingers reached the wet heat of blood. It was recognizable above all else and it scared her.
She fought to open her eyes, to fight the invisible hand making her blind. Struggling paid off and she was finally able to see, shocked at the sight. It was Richard Castle. Her Castle, the Castle who froze to death and whose body was now in a morgue drawer.
Beckett hesitantly felt his neck for a pulse, anything to say he was alive. But she felt nothing, not a single sign his heart was working. Now he had left her twice and that was two times too many. She had failed him, not just once but twice. Two times she could have saved him, two times she should have saved him, and two times she was too late to keep his heart beating.
She just wanted to tell him, tell him that she loved him. Not the playboy image, the charade, and the mask he used to protect himself. But the real him, the one with amazing father skills. The one who made her day a fun and unpredictable time to live. The one who broke down her emotional barriers and let himself in. The Castle she knew was full of life, full of joy and now he was just a corpse, a body without life, a vessel without a soul.
He was dead she knew that, she saw them take his body away. But he was here, or at least what was left of him. Then she saw it, in the middle was a puddle, slightly murky from the frequent rain and fine dirt, but a puddle. But in it she saw people, people she recognized, people she knew, people she loved.
She saw Lanie and Esposito hugging in the middle of her living room. Surrounded by familiar surroundings, their bodies embraced each other and succumb to the sorrow of the situation. Lanie's eyes were rimmed with red and drying tears left streaks down her cheeks. Esposito's face mirrored hers.
The puddle shimmered and transformed into an image of Ryan. His slight form was hunched over the bar of the Old Haunt. The dark wood and low lighting nearly hid the shot of vodka in his hand, and the cluster of glasses on either side of him. Red eyes stared blankly behind the bar as he raised his hand for another.
The puddle shimmered again, revealing her father. His face was drawn, void of emotion and staring blankly at a family photo from before Joanna's death. A Christmas tree with silver lights was partially blocked by the three of them, Kate in the centre. She could only imagine his grief, the pain that came with losing your wife and then your daughter.
For the final time, the image changed to reveal Alexis. Ryan walked in soberly looking shyly around the apartment with tear stained cheeks. She watched as the redhead crumbled into the Irishman, hugging him with cringe worthy tightness. She could imagine the words as they spilled from the detective's mouth. They were familiar words but right now they tasted of bile. The independent girl had become a daughter to her, and now she had essentially lost her parents.
Suddenly Kate looked up to the sound of coughing. She listened closer and heard breathing, faint but there. She heard a raspy voice call out to her, not in love, but fear, desperation and pain. She quickly spun around and saw him open his eyes.
Castle was back.
