In the Deep Chapter 46: Gives You Hell by All American Rejects, a castle fanfic

Well, here we are, my wonderful Crumbsians! The end of this case and this has been such a journey for me to write this story. I would not have been able to do it without the love and support of my bluebird circle - Anke, Gracie, Emma, Mona, Jordan and Victoria you are the most wonderful people I know. This wrap up is just for you. I love you all.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER - AUGUST 10

The day was bright and clear, which Beckett found rather ironicI considering the circumstances. She parked in the visitor's lot of the prison, not surprised there was no batch of protesters clustered outside the entrance. Part of her was still amazed at how quickly this had been expedited but then, shouldn't have; everyone wanted this, from the brass down to the families like Matthew Montrose's children and Christine Doran, and especially Adam Brennan.

Beckett looked in her review mirror. 'Are you sure you want to do this, Adam? There's no shame in skipping this.'

'No, Kate, I have to see it through.'

Beckett nodded, looked at Castle sitting in the passenger seat beside her. 'You coming too?'

'No. I want to be the friendly clown you see after this is over.'

'Clowns are scary,' Beckett reminded him.

'Okay, the jolly cartoon characters at whose foibles and follies you laugh to feel better about yourself.'

'How about you are a famous writer with a loving wife and children who will know exactly what everyone needs after this is all done?'

'That's even better.' Castle stepped out of the car with his wife and Adam, gave her a kiss. 'I will see you soon.'

'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

Beckett kissed her husband back, then put on her sunglasses as she walked into the prison with Adam. She knew she was being given special circumstances - no ordinary murderer would have this privilege - so she wanted to be as quick and efficient as possible. The guard had Adam go one way while she went down a different corridor and was met by Augie Thorton a middle-aged corrections officer who was grim-faced and confused.

'Detective Beckett, I have to say I've overseen a lot of executions but this is a first for me.'

'I know, and this was difficult to get approved but Officer Brennan did not have the opportunity to make the arrest himself and as I said, I feel this would be a fitting way for him to correct that.'

'I heard he wasn't a real cop when all this went down.'

Beckett fought not to narrow her eyes at the man. 'Considering who your customer on the hot seat today is, Thorton, I would suggest that 'real cop' is a relative term. Officer Brennan has since been reinstated and is now working out of the Twelfth under myself and other homicide investigators.'

'Hey, I ain't no reporter, just saying I heard that.'

They'd reached the narrow corridor, with concrete walls four feet thick separating each cell, and Thorton pointed her to the cell second from the farthest end. 'He's expecting you. Make it quick, because we're about to go into prayer for his soul.'

'I won't be long.'

Thorton gave her a nod and Beckett walked down the corridor until she reached the appropriate slot.

Delancy looked different than the last time she'd seen him, Beckett thought, he'd lost some of the weight gain that prison life inevitable caused. His face was still ruddy and round, but the wiry red hair was sparser and threaded through with grey now. He looked exactly like what he was, Beckett realized, a hollow shell of his former self who was resigned to the fact he'd reached the end of the road.

'Sean,' she said using his first name, and Delancy's head snapped up, eyes narrowing in confusion when he recognized her.

'The fuck are you doing here?'

'Just came to give you a little send-off gift.' Beckett held up a small white box, shook it so the contents rattled loosely inside. 'Take a guess what I've brought you?'

'Key to the city?'

'Not quite.'

Delancy snorted, shoved open the food-tray serving slot, where she put the little box down and shook her at him. 'What?'

'You can't open it until I leave.'

'Bitch. Same as your mother.' He sneered at her. 'Shoulda taken me out when you had the chance, now it looks like you won't get to do me in the way you want to.'

She thought of the way he'd sneered like that all through the trial, when cop after cop from her team, including Adam and Beckett herself, even Roman Moore, he testified and confirmed every last misdeed he'd committed in the name of his tragic daughter. She'd looked to Alexis and Shane, Esposito and Meredeth, Dave and Lanie, Ryan and Honey-Milk and the rest of their Twelfth precinct family who'd sat in the courtroom everyday to hear the tale, and thought of what it really meant to be a mother and a father, a sister and brother and friend. Sean Delancy knew nothing about that, and because he did, he would never understand what she and Adam were about to do to him in his final moments was more than just a petty, indulgent bitch-slap. That's how Delancy would see it, and Beckett knew this moment was so much bigger than that.

She took a step closer, leaning in to keep her voice at a deadly whisper.

'You're dead wrong about that.' Beckett had a cold smile on her face now, and backing up grinned at him. 'I'll be there, not to worry.'

Delancy watched her take one more step back, then go down the way she'd came in before turning his attention to the little box in his hands. He pierced the tape and inside found a cheap MP3 player complete with earbuds and a note.

Sean, you've been given permission to listen to a final selection of music in the minutes before your execution. We've taken the liberty of choosing a song that is apropos of the moment. Sincerely, Adam Brennan and Kate Beckett.

Delancy looked up at the sound of footsteps, saw the pus-faced Augie Thorton there.

'It's that time, Augie,' he told him calmly, pointed to the little MP3 player in his hands. 'You're supposed to clip that to the inside left pocket of your jumper, and the earbuds go in when we put you on the table.'

'Fine by me.'

Delancy spent his last mile walk puzzling over just what the fuck Brennan and Beckett were up to with this little stunt, and wondered how the hell they'd have gotten permission for it. What if the governor called with a stay of execution at the last minute? How stupid would the writer's slut look then?

He was escorted into the chamber and strapped onto the table. Thorton remained in the room once the belts were in place, and cautiously put the earbuds into Delancy's ears, then pushed the 'Play' button.

He turned his head to look out into the theatre and was surprised to see it empty. Surely there would have been at least one person, like Christine Doran come to send him off this mortal coil. It was a passing thought only, as the lyrics kicked in on the song.

I wake up every evening
With a big smile on my face
And it never feels out of place.
And you're still probably working
At a 9 to 5 pace
I wonder how bad that tastes

When you see my face
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell

He stared as he watched Christine Doran walk in, along with another woman blonde and pretty with two young people in their twenties, a boy and girl; there was no mistaking who they were as the young man was the spitting image of Matthew Montrose. The instinct to fight the bonds was strong but he was secured so definitively that Delancy could only stare in blank shock.

Now where's your picket fence love
And where's that shiny car
Did it ever get you far?
You never seem so tense, love
Never seen you fall so hard
Do you know where you are?

He watched another group of people come in, this time it was Spitzer's wife and two daughters, Elliott's nephew, Raglan's son and daughter. They all took their chairs in the back row, like they were at the theatre, hands folded and expressions hard and stony. Well, they couldn't be mad at him, could they? Their beloved daddy or uncle whomever was their relation wasn't a saint either.

Truth be told I miss you
Truth be told I'm lying

He watched as Montgomery, that son of a bitch, walked in, sat at the far end of the front-most row, looking at him with the most vile and ripened disgust. He was joined by a skinny white man with sunken eyes and greying-blonde hair. Moore, he realized with fury. Moore, forever a loser, was out and he was about to be in forever.

When you see my face
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell
If you find a man thats worth the damn and treats you well
Then he's a fool you're just as well hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
[Gives You Hell Lyrics On .com/ ]
Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on

He watched as the MEs came in - the very un-American Weaver who had taken care of Timo Ross, the fine piece of ass Parrish-Robbins who had looked after Jarrad Brennan's suicide and the surly top-dog himself, Pearlmutter in his schlubby Sunday best who had been the prickly by the book pear that had given Raglan the full works when it wasn't necessary. Nobodies, all of them.

Truth be told I miss you
Truth be told I'm lying

He would get a call from the governor at the last minute, and then he would see to it personally that all of these people paid for looking down their nose at him.

When you see my face
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell
If you find a man that's worth the damn and treats you well
Then he's a fool you're just as well hope it gives you hell

He watched as the cops who'd been in the warehouse came in - Karpowski and Newman and Geoffs, he recognized them from their personnel files. Delancy had always kept tabs on the people that bitch Beckett worked with, to see if anyone of them could be a useful tool. Now he would be sure once he was out of here that they were booted from the force for life, with no possible reinstatement.

Now you'll never see
What you've done to me
You can take back your memories
They're no good to me
And here's all your lies
If you look me in the eyes
With the sad, sad look
That you wear so well

Then came the final insult: the four cops from the Twelfth Precinct all filed in together like a caterpillar honour guard. Esposito and Ryan sat down first, leaving Beckett and Adam Brennan standing so they were in the middle of the theatre and the rest of the people who had come in as well were all there.

The guard at the switch gave Thorton a nod, and he stepped over, pushed the pause button on the little MP3 player.

'Sean Kyle Delancy, you have been sentenced by a judge in good standing to death in accordance with law laid out by the State of New York. The time is nine-fifty-seven am Eastern Standard time. Is there anything you wish to say before your sentence is carried out?'

Delancy looked out at the audience of the execution chamber and stared right at Beckett. She was right, he realized, as they swabbed his arm, fixed on the IV.

This was hell.

'No, there's nothing I wish to say at this time,' he said, 'except that I'd like to finish the song I was permitted to listen to as my last act on Earth.'

Thorton stepped over and pushed the 'play button'; the entire time, Delancy kept his face on the stony-eyed woman who looked so much like Johanna Beckett, he had to wonder if her ghost wasn't back here to see him off to hell.

When you see my face
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell (hope it gives you hell)
When you walk my way
I hope it gives you hell, I hope it gives you hell (hope it gives you hell)
When you hear this song and you sing along well you'll never tell
And you're the fool I've just as well I hope it gives you hell
When you hear this song I hope that it will give you hell
You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell

'Sorry, I need to take this back now,' Thorton told him, as the telephone on the wall rang, and Delancy had to fight to keep the sneer off of his face. He watched the guard and dreamed of the ass he was going to kick when he got out of here.

The guard replaced the receiver and spoke in a stern voice. 'The Governor of the State of New York, the honourable James Fitzgerald, has confirmed this execution will take place as scheduled. Sean Kyle Delancy, you will now be administered the lethal injection. May God have mercy on your soul.'

From the other side of the glass Beckett watched Delancy die, put her hand over Adam's as he gripped her arm tightly. 'There's no shame in it,' she told him as she felt him shudder beside her. 'There is no shame in being happy your father and my mother can rest easy now.'

'I know.'

When it was done, and they were all back outside in the cleansing fresh air of late summer, they met as a group by Beckett's car. Ryan and Esposito had donned aviator sunglasses against the brilliant sun, which only served to make them look like the bad-ass cops she knew them to be.

'Never seems right to celebrate a life ending, but today we make an exception, I think,' Ryan commented, then put a hand on Adam's shoulder. 'Your first execution, Officer, how does it feel?'

'Can I tell you in a week?'

'Of course.'

'Now there comes trouble,' Esposito commented, nodding past them, and they all turned to see Castle and Montgomery walking towards them. 'Castle, you sure you want to hang out with this guy since he left us?'

'Left you, hell, I'm going to be hanging around even more to make sure the new Deputy Chief of Detectives for South Manhattan remembers who got him were he is,' Castle returned.

'Oh, come on, Castle, I'm gonna be fine down there at One-PP, you're going to be needed more than ever at the Twelfth.' Montgomery slapped Castle on the shoulder. 'Karpowski may think you're cute in small doses but now that she runs the Homicide show, you'll need to break her in. Beckett can I have a word for a moment?'

Beckett nodded, and left the guys to discuss what would be a good ass-kissing present to the new lieutenant of the Twelfth's Homicide division while she walked down the row of cars with her former captain. 'How does it feel, taking the chair like this, sir?' she asked him.

'It feels...earned. I know the job I did to route out bad cops and that's the work that got me where I am. Or where I'm going to be at the end of the month. Let me ask you something Kate.' Montgomery stopped where he was and gently touched her arm to turn her to face him. 'Did you give Delancy that MP3 player just for your own personal satisfaction?'

'Partly. I wanted to give him the finger somehow when he knew it was too late to try and get at me. I also know that it was for every last person whose life he ruined with his shitty decision making. But mostly, it was because I wanted him to know he's just a bastard who had a chance to be great and he brought his ruin on himself.'

'Good answer.'

'Let me ask you a question, sir.'

'Why did I not pick you to run the Homicide bullpen?'

Beckett shook her head. 'No, I know why you didn't pick me. Karpowski's a better administrator than I am and she won't drive everyone crazy over the paperwork like me.'

'Then what's your question, Kate?'

'May I buy you a drink at the Old Haunt?'

Montgomery laughed. 'Only if you join me, Detective.'

Beckett joined his laughter and was charmed when he offered her his arm to escort her back to the group of men waiting for them. 'Still can't believe my husband bought that place.'

'Well, you can be sure that I'll be stopping in there at least once a week until I get used to my new digs.'

'You'll be fine sir.'

'I let you leave with my wife for two minutes and you've already scooped her from me,' Castle sighed teasingly. 'The least you can do is buy her a drink.'

'Actually I'm buying him a drink today.'

'Actually,' Esposito interjected, 'the first round is courtesy of the rookie.'

'What' Adam squawked as the others looked to him.

'Hey, it's part of being a rookie again. Suck it up,' Ryan said jovially. 'There's gonna be plenty of times when the shoe will be on the other foot.'

'Either way, it's time to call it a day,' Montgomery said.

Beckett wrapped her arms around her husband's waist and squeezed as Adam hopped in the back of the car. She looked up at the sky, murmured 'Mom, Jarrad, I'll talk to you soon,' and rode off with her knight in shining Armani into the welcome promise of a good meal and a cold drink.