(Here we are at last! I think I have finally finished this story. Those who have stuck with this one as I've had to take long breaks and then come back to it, I hope you all are pleased with the way it's turned out for our beloved characters. I tried to keep it realistic and believable, as while as having both some drama and fluffiness. Let me know what you think; I always love to know what works or what could make a story better. Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

The Walls Fall Down

Epilogue: And They All Lived Happily Ever After

Five Months Later…

The April morning sun was filtering in warmly on what looked to be turning into a beautiful spring day as Alexis Castle drowsily blinked her eyes and woke. It was one of the first mornings she had not jerked awake, gasping for breath on the heels of a nightmare, or else woken at the crack of dawn in tears, knowing she had dreamed of Tyson and the horrors he had promised were coming and then couldn't go back to sleep. She had spent weeks stumbling through a hazy, nightmarish fog with dark circles under her eyes, terrifying her dad and making both he and her grandmother fear she might never be the same again. Yet slowly, time, talking about it, and even a few sessions with Beckett's department psychologist, whom the detective had recommended, had begun to help her heal.

Languidly, luxuriantly, she stretched her limbs under the sheets, then sat up and tossed her glossy fan of red hair over her shoulder, oblivious to how it gleamed when caught in the early morning sunlight. She was still restless, but it was certainly a more peaceful, easy feeling on this bright morning. In fact, she felt it might be as simple as wandering out into the kitchen to see what kind of pancakes her dad might be concocting today.

Reaching for the brush that sat on the nightstand, Alexis ran it through the length of her hair and then gathered her tresses up to put them in a ponytail. She managed to allow only a brief shudder at the memory of feeling a monster running his coarse fingers through it. She had been sure he was about to take a knife or scissors and hack it all off before he killed her. There had been many times that the flashback sensation had been enough to reduce her to a helpless puddle of jell-o nerves, gasping for air through sheer panic. "Baby steps," she whispered to herself encouragingly, "you're making progress."

As she padded barefoot out into the open family room and felt her feet touch the cool, polished wood floor, she could see her dad humming distractedly as he stirred a bowl of pancake batter just as expected, a towel slung over one shoulder. He had dashes of flour on his cheek and across his forehead, and as Alexis moved toward him, she couldn't stop the overflow of gratitude for her adorable, ridiculous, lovable father. He looked up and saw her just as she drew near enough to wrap her arms around him in a hug and wipe the excess flour off of his face.

"Morning, my beautiful baby," he greeted cheerfully, leaning over to kiss the tip of her nose. "How are you today?" His tone was light and normal, but there was genuine empathetic concern behind his words. He had been hurting for her all the time she had been suffering through the aftermath of her abduction, and he wanted nothing more than to see that his "little" girl was happy and whole again. He looked at her, impish grin on his face as he announced, "Guess what masterpiece of pastry perfection I've created now?"

She smiled indulgently, feeling her tentative good mood take hold and blossom as she seated herself across from him on one of the tall kitchen stools. "It will be a wonderful surprise as long as you promise that you haven't given 'S'morelettes' a second try," she assured him teasingly.

Rick Castle allowed a horrified look of mock offense and hurt to cross his face. He shook his head at her, acting as though he couldn't believe her poor taste. "S'morelettes were delicious," he remarked archly. "You just don't recognize good food when you taste it."

She gave him a doubtful look and pursed her lips as if trying to come up with the right zinger to lob back at him, but he plowed right ahead, eyes twinkling at his daughter before she could best him.

"But, no, to your great relief, they are not 'S'morelettes'," he added. "These are Strawberry-Banana Waffles."

Alexis brightened at his words, as Castle had known she would; his daughter had harbored a weakness for anything strawberry-flavored since she had been only knee-high. "Why, that sounds almost startlingly normal for you to be cooking," she teased lovingly.

"Yes, well, anything to please my only child," he replied, feigning a still-joking manner, but his words were actual truth – he had planned breakfast with the solitary goal of making her smile. He studied Alexis carefully after serving her waffles hot off the iron and passing her the syrup. She dug into her food as if her appetite was finally returning for good. The cloud that had lingered over her fitfully since late November seemed largely dissipated this morning, and her eyes were no longer haunted by a smile she was only pasting on for his benefit.

His mother soon swept into the room in her silk dressing gown, regaling them with the story of one of her acting students securing a part that could make his beginning stage reputation. She bestowed a hug and a kiss on the cheek to her son as well as her granddaughter and swept back up the stairs of the loft, calling back over her shoulder that the teacher now had an audition of her own to get ready for.

Castle chuckled after his flamboyant mother's retreating figure. Though they took the wind out of each other's sails and teased each other mercilessly to make sure that no one's ego grew too inflated, Castle loved his eccentric mother beyond measure. Though if asked he would deny it, he was glad to have her in his home – where he could both look out for her and benefit from her ever-effusive, cheering mood. Alexis caught his eyes again, giving him a look that told him she guessed – or simply knew – everything he had just been thinking.

"Your grandmother is quite a unique lady, isn't she?" he offered innocently.

Alexis narrowed her eyes in seriousness, sizing him up. "She's not the only one," she answered rather cryptically.

"What's that?" he asked, knowing very well where she was headed, though he tried to play dumb.

"Detective Beckett," Alexis pursued. "Don't think I can't tell that something has been different with you two ever since you found me. You guys took a step forward and it didn't work, or you almost did and then backed out. Something happened. You seem even more anxious waiting for her to call with a case – almost like you're afraid she won't – and yet, once she does call, you go all awkward and quiet. That's not the way you usually operate, Dad. So, what's going on?"

He sighed, looking at her lovingly for a moment as he formed his answer. He knew his opinion was quite biased, but he really did have a brilliant, perceptive daughter. She was absolutely right; he and Kate had almost acknowledged the crackling tension between them and done something about it. He had promised himself that once they found Alexis, and he finally knew that she was going to be alright, he was going to lay his feelings all out for Beckett, even if he risked her turning him away, or out of her life forever. And yet here he sat weeks later, with nothing to show for all of his promises and plans, and the very real dread that the status quo between himself and his muse would remain unchanged and that he would never have the chance to finally hold the detective he adored in his arms. Alexis was still staring him down, awaiting his answer, and Castle knew that only the truth would work. "Honey, it's just – I don't know…"

She broke into his stuttering with laughter that did them both good. "You've always told me that I deserve the best, right, Dad?" she urged. "Well, the same applies for you. Stop using me as your excuse! Be the daring, charming, relentless star you always have been and go get her already! What are you waiting for?"

Without another word, she handed him his cell phone from the counter, her look brooking no further arguments, and then dove back into her waffles, pretending to be offering him some privacy.

Castle's mouth hung open wordlessly, flummoxed for a second or two, then he snapped it shut, squared his shoulders, and prepared to dial. His daughter was right; there were no more reasons to hold back. He didn't stand to lose more than he already was by doing nothing, and he had everything to gain. Putting the phone to his ear, he listened as it rang, waiting for Kate's lovely voice to pick up on the other end of the line.

CASTLE – CASTLE – CASTLE – CASTLE – CASTLE – CASTLE

That very evening, Kate Beckett looked up from the last of her paperwork to the sound of footsteps hurrying towards her over the precinct's recently waxed floor. She smiled broadly on the inside, but allowed only an outer smirk at his obvious eagerness. She was more relieved than she wanted to reveal that he had called, and that maybe they were finally going to put the suspense to rest and go out on a date.

Glancing up to meet his gaze as he came to a stop at the corner of her desk, Kate told herself to be casual, keep things normal, even though her heart fluttered nervously, "Thanks again for treating on dinner the other night," she greeted as normally as she usually would. She kept her voice steady and was surprised that she managed not to betray the somersaults turning in her stomach.

His eyes twinkled pleasantly when he shrugged it off, saying he had been glad to. She spared just a moment to reflect that the twinkle in his eyes – that unabashed joy she had always assumed only children, and possibly Santa Claus, truly had – was far and away her favorite feature of his. This was a dark job at times, and she knew all too well that she could let herself become overly serious. Castle's goodness and light were something she had needed without even knowing she did until he had walked into her precinct and begun shadowing her.

"Are you ready?" he asked curiously, studying the surface of her desk as if deciphering whether he thought she was still busy or not. "If something came up, I can always take a rain check."

"No, no," she stood quickly, as if to emphasize her point to him. "This can wait." She paused, wetting her lips, and then made herself voice the rest of her thought. "I've been looking forward to this all day."

"Well, I guarantee this outing will not disappoint," he returned, his smile growing even broader to crinkle the edges of his eyes at her honest admission. He fetched her blazer off the coat rack in the corner and came up close behind her to help her into it, easing it over her shoulders and letting his hands linger a bit longer than they had to.

Kate turned, standing so close to him that she could have stood on her tiptoes just the tiniest bit and kissed him. A part of her was powerfully tempted, but she held back – partially not wanting to make things awkward or rushed, and partially wanting him to make the move, so she would know that he wanted the same thing. However, she told herself right then that if he hadn't kissed her by the end of the night, she might take matters into her own hands after all. Still, all she said was, "So, Castle," as she leisurely took his arm while they started toward the elevator, "just where are we going tonight?"

"The Rialto," he answered, clearly excited and confident in his plan. "There's a Bogart double feature – The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep."

"Okay, a smart, slick, and irresistible detective solving crimes and putting away the bad guys…sounds very familiar…" she teased, goading him to banter with her.

"Indeed," Castle smirked, "it's a character you should know very well."

She nodded sagely, as if in total agreement with him. Then she looked to him again, playfully batting her eyelashes. "Will you buy me popcorn?"

His warm, hypnotic eyes locked on hers, pulling her in and making his fuller meaning clear as he answered, leaning in so close that their noses almost brushed. "Anything you want…" he assured her as the elevator doors slid closed.