He was a writer. He knew he had an overactive imagination that sometimes defied logic. He also knew that at times, when he was really sure, he was right. He was by no means sure. It was no hunch, no suspect, just a blind hope that was fuelled by one figure in the night, by one bouquet of flowers on a grave. He couldn't let it go. Kept conjuring up stories of what could have happened. Of anything to bring her back from the death. He was grasping at straws, he knew that, but it was also better than to keep falling with nothing to hold on to.

All this led him here. Sitting in the archives room with a flashlight, going through the police report of the murder of Kate Beckett. He hadn't seen the body that was pronounced hers, but even the idea that the body on the pictures, charred and burned, could be the body of his muse, made him nauseous. He inspected every detail, every inch of the picture until he saw it when he closed his eyes. He tried to recognize anything of what had once been Kate Beckett. His heart sank when he saw the ring he held so close to him. He cradled the ring in one hand, traced the cold metal with his fingers. He tried to read the letters on her badge, tried to tell the time from her watch, anything to get even a faint connection with the remote crime scene, that even after all this time still seemed the place of nightmares. He stared at the file, trying to piece together pieces that didn't fit. He held on to the hope that maybe, if he was very lucky, this wasn't Kate Beckett. Odds were, however, that she was. In that case, he needed to understand, needed to know why.
He stared at the file until he fell asleep.

They found him late in the evening after they wrapped up to go home. They found the writer sitting on the floor, legs crossed with a flashlight in his hand and Kate Beckett's file in his lap. He looked almost peaceful for the first time in days, though at times his brow furrowed as if he was pondering on something. Ryan and Esposito knew this look. They had seen it often in the first years working with Beckett. The years that she would stay at the precinct to investigate her mother's murder and they found her asleep at her desk in the morning. However much they knew Castle needed and deserved at good night's rest, they knew he would be in trouble if anyone else would find him here. Ryan walked up to Castle and lightly put a hand on his shoulder.
"Castle?"

Castle startled up and looked up at Ryan and Esposito standing in front of him. For a moment he seemed confused at his surroundings, before taking in the looks of pity on his friends' faces. It took him a moment to rearrange last night's events and he groaned at the feel of his legs and back. He hadn't found the most comfortable position to sleep in. The somewhat fuzzy feeling in his head disappeared the moment he looked down and saw the pictures again. His eyes almost dragged to the file, afraid of missing something. Esposito stepped forward and got the file from his hands. He took a glance at it but closed it immediately after. Ryan helped Castle up as the writer looked deep in thought, barely registering the two cops in front of him. Ryan coughed.
"So what were you doing down here?" He and Esposito had seen it before, but they didn't know anything else to say. When Castle didn't reply he tapped on the file that was still in Esposito's hands.
"Bro,-" Started Esposito, only to be interrupted by Castle.
"Just… looking at it." He mumbled, averting his look. He didn't want to tell them he had thought, really believed for just a moment that Kate Beckett was still alive. Now, after a night of dreaming every possible scenario of her life and death, the reality of her death only crushed him heavier. "Forget it." He croaked out and started to walk out of the room, only to be held back by Esposito.
"Bro, I know it's hard. We know how you felt about her, but you can't keep doing this, you know?"
"We've seen it before. You've seen it before, Castle." Ryan added. Soft enough not to hurt, but still harsh enough for Castle to realize what he was saying. "Remember what Beckett said? She said that if she didn't let her mother's case go it was going to destroy her."
"And so she let it go." Castle whispered, his eyes stinging once again as the idea that she was gone crept in without his permission once again. In an act that had become a habit, an automatism, he curled his fingers around the ring and tried to channel all this grief into the ring that had already carried to much of Kate Beckett's. The ring that she never took off until the blazing fire ended her life.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. An idea, a theory, a story to make everything better. Esposito and Ryan caught the look in his eyes. Like the look of an addict desperate for one more drink, being offered the drink they had longed for their whole life. Like a man in the desert seeing a bottle of poison, tempting, but just as dangerous as no water at all. "Castle?" Esposito was immediately alerted, suddenly concerned about the look of almost foolish hope in his face.

Without saying a word Castle reached out and tried to grab the files Esposito still held. The latter jumped back in a reflex and held the file above his head. Not being of much use to keep them away from him, but enough to rattle him a little. "Give the file to me!" What could have been a growl, came out pleading, desperate. When Esposito didn't react he jumped forwards and once again attempted to grab the file. Years of army and cop training kicked in and Esposito pinned Castle against the wall. With not nearly enough force to really hurt him, but enough to hold him done.
"Castle what's going on?" Ryan demanded, though at a soft tone. Castle tried to grasp for the file again, but was firmly held back by Esposito. Finally he sighed and kept his eyes desperately fixed on the file. "I just need to look at-."
"Castle!" Esposito interrupted him. As he saw the look on his friend's face his face and voice softened. "What's going on bro? This is not like you."
"I need to see it! I need to prove it!" Castle pleaded once again and his gaze briefly crossed Ryan's before locking on the file again.
"Prove what?" Ryan stepped forward, though keeping the file out of reach of Castle.

The next four words made the hearts of the two detectives sink.
"That she is alive."

The three of them stood in silence. Castle frustrated and desperate to get to the file. The two detectives conflicted between a small spark of hope that had been ignited, and pity for the writer that really believed it. It was Esposito who eventually broke the silence. "Listen, I've been where you are. I lost a buddy of mine once in Iraq. Found a body, everybody believed it was him, I believed it was him. I believed I'd lost my friend. One day we were out and I could swear I saw him, you know? Spend days trying to find him, I never did. When we got home they checked dentals to be sure. It was a match. It had been him all along." He placed his hand on Castle's shoulder. "Look at me. I know it's hard, but you know Lanie, she doesn't make mistakes. She's gone bro." The faintest crack in the voice of the detective was heard in his last words as he stepped back and stood in silence, waiting for the writer to make a move. He eventually did, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She did this time."

Before Ryan or Esposito could hold him back he was storming out of the archives room.

He headed straight to the morgue, praying to everything he could come up with that Lanie was still there. He got lucky and met her on her way out, he almost bumped into her. "Castle? What are you doing here this late?" The ME asked, her brow furrowing as she took in the scruffy look he was currently sporting.
"Lanie I need you to go over Beckett's files again." It came out in one breath and it took Lanie a while to register what he was saying. When she did she backed up, unable to say anything for a while. "I think you made a mistake." He added, sounding more sure of himself than he actually was. Driven by nothing but desperate hope. Lanie's face took on a similar look as Ryan and Esposito's had.
"Castle…"
"No, Lanie. I know you made a mistake! Things do not add up, there has to be something that explains it. Maybe it's her mother's killer, maybe they took her and… god knows what they're doing to her!" His voice grew desperate as the thought of it filled his mind with horrid images. "This is Kate Beckett we're talking about! You have to go over it-" Lanie interrupted his rambling with a firm voice, her hand not on his shoulder, but poking him in his chest.
"Castle you do not have to tell me who this is about! I am the one who had to autopsy my friend, only to see the case go unsolved in front of me. Don't you think I've been over that file, that I've been over her body a billion times before finding the courage to wrap her up?!" She hollered at him, her voice echoing through the room, her tears getting harder to hold back with every word. "This is hard for everybody Castle!" She finally croaked out and walked right past him. Leaving the writer standing alone in the sterile room of death.

Kate Beckett's phone startled her, the sound that she used to hear often, already growing strange. Her heart sank at the sound, because there was only one person with her phone number and that person was told only to call her in times of emergencies.
"Lanie?" She croaked into the line. Her voice rusty, unused.

"Kate, he's found out."

I haven't got time to beta this and I will not do it today either. I'm tired and it's late, so I'm going to bed, haha. I will read this over tomorrow, I hope the reading was bearable, and I hope you still like the story.
*add shameless begging for reviews here*