A/N - I'm baaack. I felt like there were a few loose ends so I wanted to tie it up, but me being me, this happened.

The Castle Wall

Epilogue

"Three down, one to go." Beckett said to her partners as she descended the steps of the courthouse reveling in the bright unseasonably warm January day. Esposito, Ryan and Beckett attended the trial as the investigative and arresting officers and special witnesses for the prosecution, presenting box after box of evidence against Patricia Stoddard. She stood three separate trials. The first for the first-degree murder of Thomas Wagner. The second she was charged with conspiracy to commit murder in the murder of Mandy Griffith, and the third was the felony stalking of Richard Edgar Castle, and misdemeanor stalking of Martha Rodgers, and Alexis Harper Castle and second degree assault charges in the assault of Gina Cowell. She had been convicted as charged and remanded to the custody of Bedford Hills Correctional in Westchester County. She would undergo psychiatric counseling and therapy for the forty-five years she'd serve in her sentence.

"Kate." She turned at the sound of her name. Lanie waved to her to wait as she finished speaking to a bailiff. Kate halted her descent. Esposito and Ryan moved a discreet distance down the steps, giving the friends privacy to talk. "Girl," Lanie said as she caught up. "How're you holding up, sweetie?"

"I'm fine, Lanie."

"Hmm, mm. Look, if either you or writer-boy needs to talk, I'm there for you, ya know? I know a great place; it's private and it has an unparalleled selection of wines." She smiled at her best friend.

"Would this place happen to be on Broome Street?"

"Oh, don't you know it." She bumped shoulders with her and Kate smiled. "Good?"

"Really, I'm okay," Kate began while pushing a stray curl back behind her ear.

"But," Lanie prompted.

"But, Castle is struggling." She sat down on the steps, Lanie followed suit. "This whole trial has brought out just how entangled Stoddard's life was in his, theirs," she groaned, "ours." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well, you saw the evidence." They were quiet for a moment, Lanie offering silent support in the form of her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Beyond the stalking, he feels responsible for Mandy Griffith," Kate paused as she held a hand up to Lanie's protest. "And even for Thomas Wagner. He hasn't even spoken to Gina; he said he can't face her."

"I'm gonna smack that man. He is not responsible for the world or even the little part of it that surrounds him. Thomas Wagner? Really? Does he remember that Wagner attacked him?"

"Yeah, you and I know that, Lanie, but that's part of what makes him the kind of man that he is. He's a world-class nurturer. He want's everyone to be happy," she shook her head, "beyond happy actually, more like content or carefree." They sat in comfortable silence as they both thought about the many extraordinary kindnesses that Castle had shown.

"Where is writer-boy?"

"Southside steps. Press Conference."

"Sounds like a good reason to be over here."

"Oh God, Lanie, I should be over there. I should be standing by him and supporting him."

"Then go, Kate. You can pick up the pieces later."

She shook her head. "If Gates finds out about us, he may not be able to work with me anymore. I don't think either one of us could take that, especially now. No, he sent me over here and away from the cameras. I need to stay here. I need to trust him on this."

"Okay, I'm here to support you whatever you want to do."

"I know." They leaned their heads together, garnering strength just by being.

Kate didn't know how long they sat there on the courthouse steps, but she drew comfort and stability from her friend. She relaxed for the first time since the trial began.

"That's adorable," he said as he tilted his head, "and strangely hot."

Kate stood up and spun around at the sound of his voice. He stood above them on the steps. The reflective sunlight illuminated his crisp white shirt and, if possible, made his eyes brighter and bluer. His dark navy pinstripe suit, one of Kate's favorites, contrasted dramatically with his shirt and further highlighted his eyes. The tie he had worn in court had already been folded and put in his pocket. He was smiling that bad-boy, 'I've got a secret that you want' grin. It made Kate crazy, sometimes in the 'you annoy the hell out of me' way but at other times, in the 'incredibly turned-on' way. Today, though, she could see he was aiming it at Lanie. He was definitely going for annoying. Part of his on-going needling of the M.E. which delighted him. Apparently it was working.

"Castle?!" Lanie could convey a world of warning in the way she uttered that one word. The grin broke into a full-blown smile, having achieved the tone he was looking for. He stepped down between them and planted a kiss on each of their cheeks, offered them each an arm and asked, "Ladies, gentlemen," nodding at Ryan and Esposito, "let's get the hell out of here. I could use a drink." He walked the four people he considered his closest friends down the steps and into the waiting limo. He had sent Martha and Alexis home before the press conference to keep them out of the paparazzi's sites. The ordeal and the subsequent trial had secured more free press for Castle than he bargained for or wanted. Paula was thrilled; quoting "any press is good press," too many times.

Castle took his friends to The Old Haunt for a victory toast or several toasts as it turned out. Kate kept an eye on him and to everyone else he seemed fine, elated even, shaking hands and receiving congratulatory slaps on his back, but Kate saw through the façade. However, that was Rick Castle; he had to make sure everyone else was happy. She kept quiet, intending to talk to him privately.

"Rack 'em up, Beckett. My man, honey-milk, and I are going to beat you and that fine sexy thing once and for all." Esposito was feeling no pain.

"Hey," protested an equally painless honey-milk.

She leaned too far over the table and accepted, "You're on, and you're going to lose."

Castle smiled as Espo clapped him on the back. "You get to kiss the winner."

"Sorry boys, but I know who I'll be routing for then." He blew a kiss to Ryan, who blushed. Castle grinned, "Go ahead and get started, I need to take care of some bar business. I'll be back in a few." He excused himself and opened the hidden staircase that led to his basement office. His smile dropped away as he descended the stairs.

He turned on the antique gaslights instead of their more modern counterparts. They suited his mood. Flickering, pulsing between useful, helpful light to a dimly lit glow, casting the obscured shadows of doubt and blame. He crossed the dark rich mahogany flooring to his desk, the original used by politicians and gangsters, alike. He loved this room and the stories that oozed out of the woodwork. Castle drew in a deep breath through his nose. He had renovated the office after he purchased the bar, but there were certain aromas; must, liquor and tobacco, that haunted the office and he grew to look forward to their calming permanence.

He opened the cabinet that contained his private bar and poured a shot of bourbon. He threw it back and poured another, anticipating the eventual deadening effect the continuous burn of the amber liquid brought. He turned and sat down heavily in his chair, not the original. Castle did great deal of his work in chairs and knew that this was one place you should never sacrifice the very latest in ergonomic technology.

He leafed through the mail on his desk, disinterestedly, threw back the next shot and turned his attention to the cardboard file box sitting on the floor behind the desk. He opened the bottom right hand drawer of the desk and perched the file box on top of it. He took a deep breath and reached for the shot glass. He made a face, realizing it was once again empty. He swiveled in his chair, stood and retrieved the bottle, being careful to place it on the desk blotter after filling his glass again.

He turned his attention back to the file box and reached into his top drawer to retrieve the box cutter. In a quick slicing flick of his wrist, he freed the box of the yellow evidence tape holding it closed. He slashed through the label proclaiming 'State of New York v. Stoddard, Patricia - Evidence Box 14'. The contents were no longer evidence: it was his recovered possessions. The first peoples' exhibit he pulled out was a file with photographs. Mostly just of him at public functions, parties, book signings, and charity events. God he looked so young in some of them. He reached for the shot while flipping through them; his hand froze as he turned to a picture of Alexis and Meredith. He put the shot glass back down. Alexis was in a stroller and Meredith was pushing her. It looked like she was window-shopping. Alexis couldn't have been more than a year old. He was still married to Meredith at that time. He put the folder down, open on the desk, and rubbed his eyes. Stoddard or whomever she got to take the picture was mere feet away from them. They could have reached out and snatched his baby away from him in a blink. The consequences of his lack of security came crashing down on him again, just as it had during the investigation, just as it had in his nightmares since closing the case. He had completely and utterly failed them: everyone who knew him, ever. There were pictures of each person, even his favorite baristas. The scope of Stoddard's obsession was mind-blowing. Even more so, he missed it. He never knew that he and anyone he ever met was under surveillance. He picked up the shot again and downed it quickly. He closed the file and turned back to the box.

The State of New York had graciously delivered the boxes after the trial. He couldn't just turn his back and let them destroy intimate parts of his life. He would do it, but he had to see it first. Beckett would have counseled against it. He knew if he gave her the chance to weigh in, she would tell him not to look. It was a fundamental difference between them: she needed to see the evidence for her nightmares to manifest. His imagination was usually worse than the evidence. Seeing the actual item or items was almost a balm to what his mind could produce.

He reached inside and pulled out a small stuffed monkey. His breath caught as he realized what he was holding. The original monkey bunky. The one they 'lost' at the park one day. Alexis was inconsolable for two days. It was just gone. He had searched the city's toy stores for a replacement and eventually found one. It happened only months after he had gained full custody of her and the incident convinced him of his inadequacies as a father. He forewent the shot glass and just reached for the bottle.

"Two victories," Lanie practically crowed, "we are the eight-ball champs!" She and Beckett high-fived in front of the dejected partners.

"Gloating is not attractive," Ryan slurred.

"Hey, I say that to Castle all the time," Beckett said as she scanned the bar for her boyfriend. "Where is he?"

"I didn't see him come back up yet. Must be a hell of a lot of paperwork," Espo offered.

"Yeah, Castle doing paperwork, ha." Ryan added. He and Espo fist bumped.

He leaned back in the chair and dropped the toy on his desk. He closed his eyes willing the grief to subside.

He opened them to the worried knit brow that belonged to Beckett.

"Oh, jeez, Kate, I'm sorry," he said, aware he had dozed off. "I thought I was just closing my eyes for a moment. Guess I'm more tired than I thought. How long have I been down here?"

She pursed her lips and her frown deepened. "About two hours."

"Oh, God, I'm a terrible host. Have Lanie and the boys gone?"

"No, not yet." She was unusually quiet.

He knew he should just let it pass, not to dig, but this was Beckett. There was never a time that he had known her when he didn't dig, push, or prod. "What's the matter?" It was out of his mouth before he had any conscious thought of it.

"Hmm," He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes; this was never a good start. "Let's look at the evidence, shall we?" He rolled his eyes, a very Beckett like impersonation she noticed. "You're down here by yourself, an evidence box from the trial is opened and its contents are strewn about your desk,"

"This is not strewn," he protested.

"And you're passed out behind a mostly empty bourbon bottle." 'Huh, when did that happen?' he thought.

"Okay, for the record, I was not passed out. Just…resting."

"It took me ten minutes to wake you from your resting." He stood and put away the bottle, gathered the photo file from his desk and placed it back in the box He picked up monkey bunky number one and held it tenderly. "Rick," she said softly as she laid a hand on his forearm. He jumped at the contact, wondering how she got behind his desk so quietly.

"Kate, I need to confront this," he gestured toward the box. "I have to come to terms with it. It's the only way I'm going to get past it," he cracked a sardonic grin, "without making everyone around me crazy."

"But it's okay to make yourself crazy in the meanwhile?"

"I can't just put it on a shelf and forget about it. This," he shook the stuffed toy in front of her, "is evidence of my failure to protect my family. You must understand by now that that is a fundamental part of who I am, right?"

"I do know that, but,"

"But what, Kate?" His eyes were ice blue and intense. She did understand that he had to take care of everyone. She'd known it almost since she first saw the real him, and not just the playboy persona.

"But, why can't we face this together? Go at it and destroy all the hurt and self-doubt, together. Why do we need to learn this lesson repeatedly? Please Rick, I'm asking you to trust me, with you."

He sat back down and stared at his desk as he pondered her statements. After a silent eternity, he admitted, "I do trust you, Kate." He pulled her into his lap, his arms encircling her waist, his fingers laced together at her hip. She placed her arms around his neck, her fingers absently playing with the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. He looked up at her and kissed her. Tentatively, softly and she responded just as softly. He pulled away and leaned his head against her chest, tightening his embrace. He wept and she held him.

"Yo, Beckett, Castle?" Espo called rather loudly as he cautiously descended the steps into Castle's office.

Kate gave one more hug to Castle and then got off of his lap. Castle busied himself by putting away the evidence box and checking his reflection in the mirror behind his desk.

Making sure that he was composed, she called, "Come on down Javi, Castle and I were just going over some things."

He stumbled down the rest of the stairs followed by Lanie and Ryan.

"Dude, you really should get a tie or something for your door."

"Sito, that's not what was happening down here tonight." Espo made a scoffing noise. Castle continued, "It has happened," Ryan stood up from the couch, quickly. "Just not tonight." He smiled wickedly.

"Detectives, are you ready?" Gates' voice intoned throughout the bullpen.

"Yes sir," came the simultaneous response from Ryan and Esposito. They were on their way to Kingston for the Buchanans' trial. Castle had secured transportation and lodging for the Captain, the boys, himself, and Beckett as they were, more than likely, going to be required in court multiple days.

She came up behind him as he was deciding which tie made him look more like a victim. "More like a victim of what? A sale at J.C Penney's?" She snorted at her own joke.

His troublemaker grin burst forth. "Did you just snort?"

"Shut up, Castle."

"No, seriously. That was adorable."

"I said to shut it," she said threateningly.

He shut his eyes and placed a hand over his heart. "Thank you, detective, for giving me something to think about while sitting through this trial." He ended with an exaggerated salute.

She slapped his chest and kissed his cheek. "You don't want to look like a victim; you want to look like an upstanding citizen."

He held up two more ties. "I hate ties."

"I know." She tilted her head as she regarded him. He had done a lot of healing in the three months since the end of Stoddard's trial. He reluctantly agreed to see Dr. Burke, Kate's therapist upon her recommendation. He had put in the hours and effort necessary to the restorative process, and had made great progress. Kate worried that reliving their ordeal through the trial would undo some of that progress. She sat on the edge of the bed watching him. Or rather looking in his direction, but not really seeing him while she thought about everything they had been through.

Suddenly, he was lying on the bed behind her, propped up on his elbow and it startled her. He smiled, "I knew you weren't here. Where did you go?"

She turned around to face him. "Are you okay?"

He furrowed his brow, "Uh, I think so. Why?"

"Come on, Castle."

He took her hands. "I am totally prepared for anything they can throw at us. Dr. Burke and I have been over it. How about you? It's different being the victim."

"Victim or not," she pushed him flat on the bed, "I'm still a cop. This doesn't scare me."

He gulped, his adam's apple prominently bobbing. He whispered, "Hot."

"You gonna be okay with separate rooms Castle? With Gates there, it'll be like we're chaperoned." She smiled evilly.

He grimaced. "I couldn't leave her out. It would have been rude."

'I know."

He waggled his eyebrows. "We've got thirty minutes."

He had hired an SUV limo and driver for the nearly three-hour trip to Ulster County. Castle had booked accommodations away from the county seat and the paparazzi. He found a quaint nineteenth-century Catskills lakeside retreat in the Shawangunk Mountains just twenty-five minutes from the courthouse.

The driver picked up Castle and Beckett and then headed to the twelfth for Ryan, Esposito and the captain.

"I must say Mr. Castle, that this is much nicer than having to drive out of the city ourselves. Thank you."

Castle looked up from his current game of Zombie Apocalypse on his phone. "Don't mention it, sir." Castle was wedged in between Esposito and Ryan, while Beckett sat next to Captain Gates. The boys watched his progress in the game.

"Dude!" Ryan shouted as Castle blew a hole in an approaching zombie's head. Beckett who had been dozing woke abruptly.

Castle passed his phone to Ryan to continue the game and leaned forward. "Welcome back, Beckett. You know, you snore when your head is tilted just the right way." He grinned and she glared. Everything was right with the world.

Gates' phone rang. "Captain Gates. Oh, hello Sheriff Callis, yes. We're on our way now, actually." She listened intently. "Thank you, yes, I understand. Is there anything we can do? Right. Please keep me informed." She hung up the phone. All four faces had her attention. "That was Sheriff Callis. Apparently, the trial's been postponed. The Buchanan brothers have escaped custody."

A/N - Watch for the sequel. Thanks for reading!