Thank you all for supporting me and sticking with me, not just through this fic but through Spiral Bound and the many years that passed between it and this sequel. I'm so glad you guys are still out there helping keep this fandom alive!

Thank you to everyone who ever reviewed, shared the links, tweeted encouragement, etc.

Thank you to those of you who sent me suggestions; your ideas ultimately helped shape this story.

And finally, thank you to Andy, my wonderful beta! I'm sorry I made you cry again with this chapter.

April 19, 2061

He found it a month after it happened.

He was going through her belongings, the wooden box where she always kept her most prized possessions; pictures, trinkets, gifts from her mother, many of the letters she'd written to him over the years. He was seated on the edge of the bed, the box open next to him as he read through her letters one by one, tears in his eyes as he soaked up her words. These things she'd left behind – her words to him – they were his lifeline.

He'd read through their journals, too, over the last month, devouring letter after letter late into the night when sleep eluded him, the bed too large, too empty, too cold without her. And so he sought comfort in words, in their story, all the way back to the very beginning. He'd never been able to capture Kate with words alone, but reading, remembering – it made him feel closer to her, erased some of the stark emptiness inside of him.

Castle refolded the letter in his hands, words from Kate from that summer fifty years ago; the last summer they'd ever spent apart. He was slipping it back into place when he stumbled upon a page he'd never seen before, a folded square in amongst the others.

This one looked newer, the paper less creased, less yellowed with age. And as he unfolded it, it became clear that the handwriting was different too. It was undoubtedly hers, but it wasn't quite as precise, the pen strokes slightly shaky. As though it'd been written much more recently. A glance at the date in the upper left-hand corner confirmed it had been.

With shaking fingers, Castle smoothed down the paper, squinting in the lamp-light as he forced his aging eyes to focus on the words.

May 1st, 2059

Dear Castle,

I hope you never read this letter, because if you do it means I'm already gone. I hope it doesn't happen that way; it's not something I even like to think about. But in case it does, there are some things I want you to know, and one final request that I have.

I know it won't be easy, but please, Babe. Please find the strength to go on, to keep living and writing and bringing comfort to others through your words and your smile and your kind heart. That was the most precious gift you ever gave to me, and I want it to live on in any way possible for as long as possible. I want others to know what a kind, loving, incredible man you are. But most of all, I want them to know what it's like to be loved by you, because there is nothing better.

I don't know where I am now or what happened or if I'll ever see you again, but I do know that everything we've been through together has been an amazing adventure. We've laughed and cried, screamed and fought, loved and been loved. We've accomplished so much together and I want you to know I'm so proud of you and of us for all we've helped each other to become. For the family we raised, the wonderful life we created for ourselves.

My existence would have been so much less without you, so unenriched and unfulfilled. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for what you did for me, the way you stuck around when all I wanted was for you to leave. The way you fought for me when I didn't think there was anything worth fighting for. The way you coaxed me out of my shell and helped me to see the world again. The way you helped me realize I could be happy. The way you realized that happiness lay with us, together, when I was too stubborn to open my eyes and see what was right in front of me.

You're the absolute best thing that's ever happened to me, Rick, and I'm eternally grateful that you are a part of my life.

I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to write this letter today, but I hope that if you do end up reading it, it helps in some small way. I hope you can draw the same strength from my words that I've always drawn from yours.

So here's to us, to the amazing times we had, all the wonderful years spent by each other's side, all the love we shared. I love you so much, Castle. Always have, always will.

Love,
Kate

He lowered his hand shakily, the letter still clasped between his fingers, the paper hanging limply next to his thigh. The tears in his eyes were flowing freely now, running down his cheeks, dripping onto the soft cotton of his sweatpants, but he did nothing to stem the flow.

The last month had been miserable, the absolute worst time of his life. He'd lived with Kate for so long, existed side by side with her for so many years, that he no longer knew who he was without her. No longer knew how to wake up and make only one cup of coffee, how to climb into bed alone at night, the other half of the mattress cold and vacant.

He was so lost, drifting, nothing solid to hold onto. And he'd never in his life felt so empty.

But now he had her words. Something to fill his heart. Something to ground him, remind him of all the amazing memories, all that they were. All that he still had to live for.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt his heart unclench, the numbness begin to fade, a smile almost escaping. She wrote him a letter. She left him her words, a beautiful string of sentences that encompassed so many of the things he'd loved about her; her eloquence, her love of the written word, her intelligence and strength and tenacity, her passion for life and everything in it.

Her love.

It helped.

When Alexis came by later that day for dinner, she saw him smile for the first time in a month.

He showed up at Elena and Cora's dance recital that very weekend, and he moved more slowly than he used to, joints weary with exhaustion and age and the loss of his wife. But he perched on the bench between Jake and Alexis and cheered for his granddaughters with an exuberance she hadn't seen since Kate.

He still missed her terribly. They all did, and Alexis knew they always would. But whatever happened, whatever was responsible for this change in her dad, she was happy to finally see him living again, out in the world with a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Before they parted ways at the end of the game she hugged him tightly, whispered her happiness at seeing him here, watching him slowly find himself again. He thanked her, chest tight, the words caught in his throat. It still hurt, and there was still a gaping hole in his heart. There always would be. But for Kate, he could do this. For Kate, he could live again.

He'd never been able to deny her anything, after all.

"I'm proud of you, Dad," Alexis murmured as they separated a moment later, two sets of intense blue eyes meeting, unshed tears shimmering between them. "And I know that wherever Kate is now, she is too."

END