A/N: Last chapter! This is the first chaptered fic I've ever finished, so that's exciting. Hope you enjoy it. This chapter isn't much consolation after I killed Beckett, but I hope it still makes you smile. It's not quite as dark as the others.

Disclaimer: Don't own Castle. Pretty darn sure. Lemme check if I recently acquired the rights to the greatest murder mystery show on the air...nope, sorry. I know, I was a little hopeful too there.

Castle paced his bedroom, combing his hair through for the fourth time or messing with his tie. Anything to keep his hands and mind occupied.

The door swung open with a creak as he was looking in the mirror. He watched his mother peek inside to see where he was. "Honestly, Richard, we're going to be late."

"Sorry, Mother. I'm ready, don't worry." He summed morosely out into the hall. She shut the door and linked onto his arm.

"Don't be so somber," she chided, patting his shoulder. "We are going to celebrate a wonderful life."

"She's still dead. Shes gone forever."

"Pish posh! For one thing, do you really think shed enjoy you moping around? And think about this: she's with her mother now. I know it's trite, but she's in a better place. And lastly, she'll never really be gone."

"Mother, are you quoting Harry Potter at me?" Under any other circumstances, the question would have constituted a laugh. Martha took it in stride and continued without responding.

"You wrote Heat Wave! You created the character of Nikki Heat. You immortalized Kate Beckett through your writing. According to William Shakespeare, that's the only way to keep someone alive forever.

Castle thought for a moment before he kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for that."

"You were going to stop writing Nikki Heat, weren't you?" He looked at her in surprise. "I saw you pulling down your papers and throwing them away two nights ago. I also took the liberty of putting your newest draft back into your documents from the recycle bin. Were you planning on getting rid of all evidence of her?"

"Mother, how did you-"

"I'm your mother, dear, I know everything. Don't think you're the only insomniac in this house who hasn't slept since Christmas. I saw you lurking around downstairs the other night." She stopped and turned him to look at her. "Have you gotten any sleep since Christmas?"

"Not without dreaming," he replied sullenly.

She nodded in understanding. "Ah." She smiled at him. "She's still with you. See? You're just hiding because you don't your problems. You never did deal with anything very courageously."

"Thank you, Mother," he pouted slightly.

"All I'm saying is that you run and hide. If you try to face it head on, maybe you'll have some peace."

A door opened upstairs and Alexis ran down to meet them, wearing a skirt, sweater, tights, and a black jacket that Beckett had given her for her birthday.

"Ready, Dad?" she asked, latching onto his other arm.

He smiled at her and hugged her tightly. "Ready." They went down to the lobby and got the car.

}-

The coffin was lowered into the ground slowly, and Castle felt as though they were burying every dream he'd never achieved. Across from him, over the gaping wound in the earth, Jim Beckett watched stoically as his daughter was buried. It seemed as though his mind was unable to register the tragedy that had occurred and was still occurring right in front of his eyes. Beside him stood the captain with his wife and son, stiff and with his hands held behind his back like a soldier. Lanie stood on the other side of the family, holding onto Esposito's hand and leaning against his shoulder, tears flowing silently. Esposito's expression was hard and closed and he rested his chin against Lanie's head. Ryan and Jenny were hand in hand beside Martha and Alexis. Castle held onto his daughter as she cried into his shirt, while he couldn't help but imagine every tree, building, and gravestone collapsing into rubble.

The grave was closed, and it was finished. All over.

}-

"What are you doing here, Castle?"

He turned his head to see her walking in the door of the interrogation room. He wore a suit and tie and had five o'clock shadow. Her hair was much shorter, like it bad been the night he'd met her. It was that night again, but this time they knew each other. "Kate?"

"There's no murder to solve right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight." She sat down across from him like she was ready to get a confession out of him. He didn't know what he was guilty of, or even if he was, indeed, guilty.

"You can't hold on to this," she told him. "I told you about how my mother's death tore me apart. I've missed her for over ten years." She smiled. "I talked to her. She told me that she was proud of me, that she wished I hadn't gotten so hung up on solving her case but she was still proud of me. Even if you lose yourself like I did I will still love you, but I don't want you to do that. Esposito once told me that you had enough information from following me around to write ten books. You don't need me present to write. You have two more books left, if I remember correctly. And you are going to write, got it? Life doesn't stop because someone dies. If there's something I've learned all these years, that's it." She rose and he was standing as well, suddenly like he'd missed the moment. She leaned across the metal table and kissed him gently. "Promise, Writer Boy?"

"What if I can't handle that?" he asked.

She smiled and glanced back at the mirrored glass, as though someone was watching them. "Life never gives you something you can't handle." She walked towards the door. "You're free to go. So go. Write. Live. Now," she stepped closer to him with her hands on her hips, "or I'll call security."

"Kate," he said slowly. "You're not going to be gone forever, are you? I mean, this isn't the last time-"

She took another few steps. "Of course not. I'll always be here." She put her hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I'll always be with you."

He put his hand around her neck and pulled her closer. "Well that's good, because I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too." She kissed him again before hugging him tightly and walked away from his embrace. She opened the door to reveal a white abyss of nothingness.

"Hey," he called quickly. Her head turned to acknowledge him. He grinned. "My mother put you up to this, didn't she?"

She just laughed and shook her head. "Until tomorrow," she said.

His grin widened. "'Night, Detective."

She walked through the door and it shut behind her.

Rick Castle woke slowly. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and sat up from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch and stretched, before standing and crossing to the office. Through the window a ray of sun snaked it's way inside at that moment, and the whole room looked as though it had been specially illuminated. It wasn't even seven in the morning and he was still in pajamas, but he opened his computer and started to type. And as soon as he wrote out his new dedication he felt as though a guardian angel stood at his shoulder:

In memory of the beautiful, extraordinary

Kate Beckett,

my immortal muse—

you will live on forever.

Castle smiled. "Thanks, Kate," he whispered.

And then he continued to write.

A/N: Sorry to everyone who wanted her to come back, but I write too many stories like that and I've been told I should try something new by my friend Danipinkcloud (go look her up!) so she's dead. Um...sorry. I do sincerely feel bad but I also really enjoyed writing this, and I hoped that even though it was sad you enjoyed reading it as well. I'll be posting a few more things, I've got some interesting ideas, a few of which I've written. Remember that I have quite a few things I've handwritten but haven't typed, so I'm trying to get on it—and meanwhile I need to type up several original stories because I wish to get them published. And if any of you happened to read The Guilt Factor and its end note, you'll know that I promised more Artemis Fowl one-shots in October...I have about five which need to be typed and uploaded, and sorry about that. As always reviews are insanely appreciated! Love you all!