Protection
She's better the next time she goes to see him.
She has a hold, albeit a fragile, shaky hold, on her psyche.
Her hands tremble at her sides until they find purchase against the soft denim of her jeans. April is still chilly so she's bundled up in a sweatshirt, the sleeves hiding her hands. The ends of the scarf bite at her face, joining forces with the tips of her hair.
She's alone because she doesn't have the strength to hold herself together for Eli. Not while standing in the shade of the maple tree, head tipped back to look into the branches to keep from crying.
He wouldn't want her shedding more tears. Mourn, pick up the pieces, and be strong for their son.
It's all so much easier said than done.
When she looks down again, sees that it wasn't a cruel magic trick. His name is still there, etched into the cool black granite, tip of the quill kissing the top of the H.
"This feels stupid," she sighs, sliding down the trunk of the tree. "Burke said it might work, just talking to you. But you're not there." Her phone rings in her pocket. She ignores it. Not Martha or Alexis's tone so Eli is fine. "But I can try."
Her boots push at the new grass poking up around the brown earth, uncovering more of the bright green sprouts.
"Hi." Even the one word directed to the man's spirit has her throat clogging. "We're okay. You always worry so much but we're okay. Mostly. Alexis moved back to the loft. Your mother spends her time at the acting school. They did a season of musicals and Alexis couldn't study with all the tap dancing going on. Eli kept shouting 'Oklahoma' at the top of his lungs."
She pulls her legs back up to her chest, resting her chin on her knee.
"Eli… God, Castle, this is going to sound horrible but let me explain first? Sometimes I hate him. He looks so much like you that sometimes I can bear to be near him. He's so smart. We read every night before bed, all cuddled up on our bed. He makes me leave your spot open."
The tear slips down over the curve of her cheek, dropping onto her hand.
"It's not fucking fair. How is it fair that there are killers still out there on the streets but our son has to grow up without the most beautiful, caring, loving father in the world?"
She wraps her arms around her legs, rocking forward. Like her body can't bear to be further from his than necessary. Even after all this. Even now when he's gone and she's left.
"He wants to come visit but I couldn't let him, Castle. Not today. I can hardly keep my own head above water. And today…" She shakes her head, just once before swiping her hand over her cheek as if it would do anything to stop the tears. "Not when we should be throwing you some ridiculous party. Not when you should be reading our son a bedtime story despite the fact that guests are still downstairs and missing you. Because you were such an extraordinary dad."
When she gets up, she stumbles into his headstone. It almost breaks her. But she takes a shuddering breath, letting her fingers smooth over the edge of the granite and down, coasting over his name.
"I'll always love you, Castle. Happy birthday."
She gets home, finds Eli snuggled up with Martha and Alexis on the couch. They don't need any words; all three women have tried and failed to hide their red-rimmed eyes with make-up. They simply slide to either side of the couch as Beckett picks up the four year old and settles him on her lap.
"Momma?" he asks, turning to face her, torso twisted awkwardly as he watches her with too-familiar blue eyes.
She presses a kiss to his soft hair, tickling his sides lightly. "Love you, my sweet boy."