Author: Elizagoth

Word Count: 2,052

Rating: M (Adult subject matter)

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the following work of fiction.

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. It means a lot. At first I was pretty nervous to post this, even though my beta said it was fine. Anyway without further ado, here's the next chapter.

I walked through the pathway made by the sea of people. The entire city had been painted black with grief as mourners lined the streets in droves. Among them, the police of the NYPD could be picked out in their dress blues, all with a black band over their badges. It was tradition, done to respect a fallen comrade and really he had been just as much one of us as anyone else.

I looked over beside me to where Karpowski walked on the other side of the hearse. Having been in the hospital the day before, I knew most people thought I shouldn't be walking with the casket. It was tough and my battered body protested with every step. However it was far less painful than sitting in the car with Martha and Alexis, like they had wanted. Even thinking of it flooded me with a crippling guilt. So far I managed to avoid them, and hadn't seen them since their hospital visits where I was too high on painkillers to feel much of anything.

As we passed, white gloved hands were brought up in a salute. Probably the first and last time they would salute a civilian. The word was that the mayor had plans to make him an honorary NYPD member posthumously.

The lights and roar of the motorcycles came to a stop in front of the elegant church. As the drums stopped, the pallbearers moved to the back of the hearse while Karpowski and I stood to follow the family inside. In a surprising move, Alexis took my hand and we walked together behind the casket as Amazing Grace played out.

Around my neck the sling itched and I scratched it as Alexis, Martha and I walked up the cathedral steps. I nodded to the priest as we walked in. It was hushed inside, the bagpipes muted by the stone of the building and we took our seats as the casket was settled on the altar. As everyone else filed in, Martha and Alexis went up one at a time to say a final word to Castle.

"Do you want to say goodbye?" Martha asked as she took a seat on the other side of Alexis in the front pew.

Not wanting to offend or cause a scene I stood and took a tentative step toward the altar. I didn't know whether to scream or cry or throw up. I wanted to do all three as everyone's eyes watched me walk the few steps toward the casket.

With a trembling hand I reached out and touched the green and white fabric of the flag. My hand curled into a fist and I felt myself losing it. The tenuous hold I had on my sanity and self respect was slipping. I could feel everyone staring at me and I wanted to turn around and ask what the fuck they were all looking at.

Then as quickly as the feelings came, they were gone, replaced by calm sadness and a warm hand at the small of my back. There was only one person who touched me there.

"It's just you and me Scout," he murmured in my ear as I turned my head to the side.

"Take me with you," I whispered, barely loud enough for myself to hear.

The tears fell and I wiped at them futilely as more followed. He shook his head and I turned my gaze back to the casket.

"I meant everything I said back there Kate. I wouldn't do anything differently. It was always meant to be one or the other; never both of us. I'm glad it was you that got out."

"I can't do this without you. I feel like I can't breathe," I said, my words disguised in a sob.

"Then let me come along for awhile," he whispered, putting a warm hand over mine on the casket. "Just like one of your cases. We'll start with an end and find a beginning."

I nodded and felt him follow me as I turned from the altar. Detective Beckett was back, strong enough to get me through today. It was a pie crust defense, easily broken and shattered. I comforted myself with the thought of painkillers and dreamless sleep when everything was said and done.

As I took my place back beside Alexis, I couldn't help but feel I didn't deserve to be sitting with his family. Even Meredith was in the second row of the large Cathedral and she had been with Castle longer than I ever would get to.

Everyone had known Castle and I were together. Our relationship had done the tabloid circuit and finally reached the point where not everything we did was news. It didn't seem fair that I finally found him and then he was taken from me. Truthfully I knew even a lifetime wouldn't have been enough with Richard Castle.

The priest walked up the aisle and a breathless hush fell over the crowd of mourners.

As the service began, the priest instructed everyone to be seated. I was in the seat closest to the aisle and I could see Castle sitting on the carpeted floor beside my pew, watching amusedly as the priest went on, quoting scripture.

"It's funny isn't it? I never really was religious," he mused, watching the priest. "Mother arranged this. She always did have a flair for the dramatic."

I looked down at him with one eyebrow raised, wincing at the pull on my stitches. Having only been a week since the incident, I imagined that I still looked pretty ghoulish. I hadn't spoken to anyone about what had happened in that warehouse, but the evidence was pretty clear.

Five stitches ran through my right eyebrow, the result of a heavy blow. The corresponding black eye was purple and angry, the bruise stretching across my cheek. My bottom lip was split, discouraging me from smiling, even if I wanted to. All my ribs ached with every breath I took, the three cracked ones hurting the most. Finally and most telling, aside from various other cuts and bruises was my immobile left arm. Two gunshot wounds, one to my shoulder, the other to my abdomen. They were in and out, missing any internal organs and major arteries. They had still bled like gunshots are inclined to do and there were a few blissful moments where I thought I would be going with him. But my injuries were far less serious, lending me more time on that cold, cement floor.

I tuned back in as the priest asked for a moment of silence to reflect and pray. In that moment it felt like the whole city held its breath. Inside the church, not even a cough or a crying baby could be heard. Castle took my hand in his as I trembled in the quiet. When the moment was over, we kept our heads bowed as the priest began a prayer. A resounding amen echoed through the sanctuary, bringing everyone back into the service.

"Now Richard's daughter, Alexis will say a few words," he said as Alexis stepped forward to the pulpit.

She touched the casket briefly, drawing strength, then turned to face the substantial crowd.

"How do I describe my father in a few short words? To do him justice when he meant so much to so many. I feel I should start by saying that he wouldn't want us to grieve for him or live in sorrow. He was too full of life to evoke such sadness. My father was a fan of turning to others wiser than ourselves when our own words fail us and I believe that this poem sums up what he would want us to do:

"We've known lots of pleasure,

At times endured pain,

We've lived in the sunshine

And walked in the rain.

But now we're separated

And for a time apart,

But I am not alone-

You're forever in my heart.

Death always seems so sudden,

And it is always sure,

But what is oft' forgotten-

It is not without a cure.

There may be times you miss me,

I sort of hope you do,

But smile when you think of me,

For I'll be waiting for you.

Now there's many things for you to do,

And lots of ways to grow,

So get busy, be happy, and live your life,

Miss me, but let me go."

She paused, swayed by her grief for her father and I had to look away. It was too hard to look upon the devastation I had caused. Alexis steeled herself, far braver than I'd ever be and continued, each word driving my guilt farther home. I looked down at Castle shakily and he took my hand, hushing me quietly.

When Alexis finished, she took up her seat beside me again and I offered her a clean tissue from the ones my father had put in my sling earlier. The mayor spoke about what sort of person Castle was and how he was to become an honorary member of the NYPD in recognition of the services he had provided us with.

After the mayor finished speaking, a few more people stood to say a few brief words and then the priest took the pulpit again. We bowed our heads as he bestowed Castle with a parting prayer and let the pallbearers take up the casket again.

Alexis took my good hand again as we followed the processional out. I felt Castle at my side with his hand on my back, urging me to keep going as the bugle echoed out Taps to the church.

I bolted upright in bed, still hearing the mournful sound in my ears. Sweat drenched my sheets as I struggled to free myself and draw breath into my lungs.

"Castle?" I cried, desperately searching the darkness.

"Right here Scout," he said, appearing at the end of my bed.

"Oh god."

I felt my stomach flip and hurried to the bathroom, banging into walls in my haste. My abs burned as I finished dry heaving and reached up a hand to pull the toilet lever. Castle crouched beside me as I leaned against the side of the bathtub.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, putting a hand on either side of my face.

I turned my gaze to his blue eyes and took his hands in my trembling grip.

"You're never coming back, are you?" I said, my tone low and matter of fact.

"No Kate, I'm not," he replied.

It was always the same answer, from the first time I had asked. In the first while after it happened, I was so angry. At myself, at him for leaving me alone. I lashed out and blamed him, often, but now all I felt was the same melancholy resignation that was my constant companion.

My days were slow and uneventful, but it was night I feared. The darkness and the stillness that did nothing to slow my racing mind. Even with Castle beside me, I couldn't let go and think on the past for long. In those few moments I allowed myself to stray, I was always struck by how raw my grief still felt. So much so that I didn't even attempt to contemplate our final moments together.

I didn't speak for almost a month after it happened. The only time words would pass my lips was in the long hours of sleeplessness when I would talk to the fantasy Castle that my damaged mind had conjured. No one else could see him or hear him. He didn't exist outside of my consciousness, but when we touched, for a few brief moments it was like he was there again. The sadness never lifted completely, but it became bearable. I was able to breathe and move on to the next moment in my life.

My doctor would call it a coping mechanism. I called it survival. Without Castle standing by me, talking to me, comforting me, I wouldn't have made it through these long months. Even broken as I was, I was still there.

Not letting go of his hands, I slowly hauled myself off the cold floor. Someday I would have to let go of him, but for now this dysfunctional illusion was enough.

To Be Continued….