Epilogue

"Ah, excuse me everyone, if I could just get everyone's attention for just a moment."

A hush fell across the crowd of thirty people gathered on the sidewalk, all of them focused on the dark suit wearing man before them. Kate gazed at him proudly, her arms surrounding a tightly swaddled infant. She had been hesitant to bring the little girl, for at just barely seven weeks old she did not have very much appreciation for being silent during moments of great importance. Castle had been insistent, though, and luckily, taking after her father, the little one could sleep just about anywhere—particularly against her mother's chest.

Now that he had everyone's attention, the writer continued. "I know this is an informal event but I wanted to thank you all for coming and joining us today. It's been five years since twenty-five people lost their lives here and there's not a day that goes by I don't think about it." He paused to gaze over at the trio of women to his left and smile at them. "I look at my wife and my daughters and I'm grateful to be here, but I never forget those that we've lost, so if you'll all now join me in a moment of silence."

The crowd reacted similarly to the writer: clasping their hands and bowing their heads. Kate smoothed small circles over the baby's bottom for the duration of their silent moment, but she needn't have worried; the girl's eyes barely even fluttered.

After the moment of respect, the crowd began to dissipate. Castle made his way through the group, shaking hands and accepting kind words. Kate trailed behind followed by Alexis and her father. One woman, a graying, hunched over octogenarian Kate recognized as the mother of one of the bank victims, stopped in front of Kate and cooed at the child in her arms.

"What's her name?"

"Lily," Kate said.

The woman rested her hand atop the pink hat on Lily's head. "She's beautiful."

Kate thanked the woman before continuing on her journey behind Castle. Once through the crowd, they stopped in front of the newly constructed concrete bench which sat on the street just in front of where the bank had been previously. Etched into it were the names of the victims as well as a plaque explaining the bench's significance.

Alexis stepped up beside them, leaned over and grazed her finger over her grandmother's name. "It really is a nice monument, Dad."

Castle smiled at her. "I just hope it's enough. I hope..." His voice drifted off as he gazed over at the dissipating crowd. "I hope they don't wish for more."

Kate squeezed her husband's elbow. The prior five years had been filled with many ups and downs for him with regards to the event that had nearly taken his life. While Castle was thrilled to be alive and began painting fantastical scenarios for what diseases their child would cure while she was still in-utero, he did continually struggle with the guilt of being the sole survivor of the event.

Almost right away Castle began working to gather contact information for the families of those who had lost their lives—even the bank robbers, who he felt still deserved recognition despite their involvement in the tragedy. He also looked into turning the entire site into a memorial, like a park or garden. Despite several years of work, and spending a significant amount of money, he was unable to get approval from the city; the memorial bench was the best that he could accomplish and Kate knew he felt it wasn't nearly enough.

"We lost someone too, Dad."

Castle nodded. "I know. I just wish…"

Kate squeezed his arm. "We know, but Rick, you did more than enough."

"She's right." Kate's father chimed in. "All these people here today appreciate what you did; none of them were complaining."

Castle nodded, accepting this answer, but still looking the slightest bit uncertain. He reached out his hand and placed it atop the bench, running his thumb over the edge of the plaque for several moments before they were interrupted by a young woman approaching and saying, "Excuse me—are you Richard Castle?"

Clearing his throat, the writer stepped forward and nodded. "Yes, I am."

She nodded to him. "I'm Jamie Kennedy. My mom was Vanessa Kennedy; she died in the bank."

"I'm sorry."

Jamie looked down at the bench and then back up to the writer. "I was only fifteen when she died and I was really angry when I found out that someone had survived. I didn't want to answer any of your emails to the group or even acknowledge that you existed, but now I'm glad you did because we wouldn't have this amazing thing without you," she said, gesturing toward the bench. Then, she gazed around the writer and looked at the baby in Kate's arms and smiled. "And I'm glad something good came out of that day."

Castle held out his hand to shake hers. "Thank you; thank you very much."

When Jamie walked away, Kate stepped in and pressed her lips against her husband's cheek. "See. That should make you feel better."

"Yeah," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "it does." He reached out, took the baby from her arms, kissed her cheek and cradled her against his chest. "C'mon, let's go home; I'll make everyone breakfast for dinner."

"Okay." Alexis happily agreed. "As long as there's no smorelettes."

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing.

Cover pic credit goes to: Poi Peterson