May 23, 2011 (9w5d)
The street was still after being barricaded off for the impending funeral procession. The unusual state of quiescence was calming on her nerves as she stood in the centre of the typically busy road outside of the precinct.
Black bunting decorated the façade of the Twelfth, the building that had served as a second home to her, to many. Floral arrangements, balloons, cards and signs lined the sidewalk, all in tribute to a beloved man killed in the line of duty.
She watched as the national flag billowed in the gentle breeze. It had been lowered to half-mast early Friday morning, and had remained unchanged over the weekend. She knew that by the end of the day it would be raised to full mast again. The bunting would be removed, the flow of traffic would be allowed back into the street. Life would just... go on.
The idea of there being any sense of normality in the near future seemed impossible to her. Everything was different now.
She knew that she would adapt in time. She was tired of being resilient, of constantly being in a state of having to bounce back. She felt like the last decade had been one domino falling after the other, always something that she had to work through.
Castle's hand on her lower back brought her back, away from the pity-party-for-one.
It amazed her how easily he pulled her from that darkness.
"You doing okay?" he asked as he guided her toward the procession of vehicles that lined the street.
As per NYPD traditions, a police motorcycle would lead the procession from the precinct to the cemetery, followed by two cruisers for the pallbearers, the funeral coach and a limo for the captain's family members. Following behind would be a dozen patrol cars, lights flashing, and a second motorcycle escort would complete the procession.
"I'm fine," she answered, distracted by the stoic-faced officers gathering by the barricades.
He stopped their journey toward their assigned cruiser, demanding her focus with the curl of his index finger under her chin. Once her eyes were on his, he dropped his hand, knowing now wasn't the time to test her PDA boundaries.
"How do you feel? You're not dizzy or anything?"
She examined the back of her hand where the IV had been inserted, pressing the small round band-aid with her thumb. The sting from the bruise underneath was an oddly satisfying distraction; she'd take physical pain over emotional pain any day of the week.
"I'm okay, I promise." She looked back at him and offered the warmest smile she could, which she knew wouldn't do all that much to convince him, but it was better than nothing.
He looked deep into her eyes, searching for any momentary waver in her resolve. It wasn't that he didn't want her to be okay, he just wished she would stop dismissing the warning signs, insisting that she was fine when she wasn't.
"Would you tell me if you weren't?" he asked, voice shaking with worry.
And suddenly she didn't care that they were surrounded by over a hundred colleagues. She couldn't fight the urge - the need - to hold him, to comfort him and be comforted by him.
She moved closer to his body, tucking her arm under his and leaning into the warmth of his embrace.
He pulled her as close as possible, enveloping her in his arms.
"You're strong enough to do this, I know you are. And, if you need me, I'm right here," he whispered into her hair. Dropping his voice until it was barely audible, he continued, "I love you. I'm right here."
She closed her eyes and allowed the beating of his heart to drown out the world around them. Just for a few minutes, just long enough to convince herself that he was right. She may not have felt strong, but she knew that as long as he was by her side she could make it through the day. This day, and all the days to follow, until the world felt right again.
She inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent until she felt the warmth of his love swell in her chest, calming her entirely.
She pulled her head from his chest and locked her eyes with his. She didn't want to hide in her fears anymore.
"Rick, I l-"
"Detective Beckett!"
She sighed, took a step backward and searched the crowds for the source of the disruption until she spotted a rookie officer approaching apprehensively.
"I'm sorry to intrude, ma'am," the young officer said as his eyes flitted between her and Castle. "Detective Esposito is looking for you. They're ready to begin."
"Thank you, Officer..." Her eyes dropped to the name pinned under his badge. "Dunst. We will be over in a minute," she finished with a smile.
The rookie smiled at her before bounding off toward the precinct.
"So... where were we?" Castle asked once the officer was out of earshot.
She turned back to him, reaching for his hand.
The words had been right there on the tip of her tongue; she had been so ready and willing to let them spill from her lips, to confirm what she sincerely hoped he already knew: she loved him.
He threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing ever so slightly.
"Castle..."
She looked up at him, gazed into the ocean blue depths of his eyes as she caught the inside of her cheek between her teeth.
"I-"
The words from just moments ago failed to form as every complication flashed to the forefront of her mind.
She let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe the moment had passed? Maybe her subconscious realised that he deserved more than an interrupted moment? Surely that was why the words seemed to catch in her throat.
As she watched him, she noticed a grin spreading across his face.
"I know," he whispered.
She frowned, unsure if she was relieved or confused.
"You know... I don't care if you say it, Kate," he said as the grin faded into a more serious expression. "All I want is for you to feel it."
"How will you know that I feel it if I don't say it?"
"How will I know?" he repeated her question in a way that insinuated the answer was obvious.
She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came to her.
"You're standing here holding my hand despite your insistence that the workplace is a no PDA zone."
"No exceptions," she added, rolling her eyes at their current disregard for the rule she had set after accidentally kissing him in the conference room.
"You let me fuss over you at the hospital last night even though I know it was driving you mad."
She shrugged. "You felt better having something to do."
"You're staying at the loft even though you'd be much more comfortable in your own home, because you know that I need my family right now and you don't want me to have to choose."
"I just wanted to be with you," she confessed, shyly looking down to their joined hands. "And I know that sometimes that means a crowded room instead of solitude."
"Well, that's how I'll know. When you do these things for me... I can see that you're trying, so hard, to fight those voices in your head that tell you this isn't going to work. You're fighting for us, Kate. Against yourself. If that's not love-"
She closed the already practically non-existent distance between them and stopped his lips with her own.
Her kiss was a thief, stealing the breath from his lungs and the thoughts from his mind. Short and sweet and indelible.
"Hmm," he hummed against her lips before she pulled away. "And then you do that and it's like a surge of energy enters my body through your lips."
"Consider that my way of saying thank you. For everything."
"Well, you are very welcome," he replied with a smile.
He looked around them, scanning the street for familiar faces until he saw Esposito waiting by one of the cruisers.
"You ready for this?" he asked, turning his attention back to Kate.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."
She continued on the path they had been walking before, bumping her shoulder against Castle's. He followed her lead, matching her pace, a steady, calming presence. As he had always been.
It may not have been an instant thing, but somewhere along the line, long before she realised it, he had become her constant.
They sat in the back seat while Esposito rode shotgun, engaging in stilted small-talk with their chauffeur for the morning: Officer Dunst.
Dunst was new to the Twelfth. He said he only had the privilege of working under Montgomery's leadership for a little less than a month, but they could tell from the way he spoke that he had a great respect for the man.
She was thankful that Esposito seemed happy enough to field the rookie's questions and, between that and Castle's occasional input, she was barely called upon to speak.
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket: the eulogy that Castle had helped her write during their hours together at the hospital. Unfolding it carefully, she began to read over their words.
The paper was worn, tattered and threatening to fall apart. The corners curled; edges were torn by fidgeting fingers during the dozens of re-reads. By this point, the words were seared into her memory and re-reading it served no actual purpose. But she had to do something.
She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that was building there. The drive had already been too long for her wrecked nerves, and she was starting to feel claustrophobic in the backseat.
Castle must have sensed her tension. He slipped his hand between her upper back and the car seat, pushing his thumb between her shoulder blades and massaging it up to the base of her skull.
Her head dropped forward and her eyes fluttered closed in response to the touch, the release of so much built up tension.
"Almost there," he assured her in a hushed tone.
"I just want this to be over," she confessed as she moved her hand across the distance between them, resting it on his knee.
Castle dropped his hand from her back, placing it over hers and giving it a comforting squeeze.
"Soon," he promised.
She flipped her hand over so that their palms touched, fingers interlaced.
She never would have expected this level of comfort with this man, not this quickly anyway. Even though they weren't alone, Castle had no reservations about touching her, holding her in whatever way would offer her some peace. And the more he shamelessly showed his love for her, the more she found herself wanting to reciprocate. Last night, despite the dramatic ending, had proven to be exactly what she needed to embrace the easiness of this... to trust it.
With a smile, she brought their coupled hands to her face and brushed her lips against his knuckles before placing a soft kiss there.
"I was thinking," she whispered into the back of his hand.
He quirked his brow, leaned in closer. "Yes?"
She smiled at his blind enthusiasm; she knew that he would readily accept or agree to whatever it was she was about to say.
"Seeing as I have the rest of the week free..."
"I like where this is going," he chimed in when she left a long enough pause for him to not cut her off.
"Maybe I could take you up on that offer to get away for a little bit?" Her eyes flickered to the front seats of the vehicle, checking to make sure their conversation was still relatively private. "That is, if the offer still stands?"
"Of course it does," he insisted, his eyes following hers to do his own privacy check. "Where would you like to go?"
She shook her head. "I don't mind." Turning her full attention back to Castle, she smiled. "I just need you."
"I think I can arrange that."
His smile, warm and bright, crinkled at the corners of his eyes, doing its very best to chip away at the pain in her heart.
No expense had been spared for the renowned Captain.
In a crowd of 500, civilian mourners, family and friends of the fallen had scattered through a sea of navy uniforms.
She knew that there, somewhere in the depths of the crowd, was their own support system: her father, her best friend, and Castle's family. Even though she couldn't see them, she was grateful that they were there.
She stepped up to position, slipping her fingers behind the handlebar on the left-hand side. Ryan took his place behind her, and Esposito and Castle stepped to the right-hand side to flank the flag-draped casket. McCann and Hendricks joined them, filling the remaining spots.
The snare drums sounded, their cue that it was time to perform their duties. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and wriggled her fingers. Tapping them against the gold-plated handles nervously as she waited.
"Ready, up!" Esposito called the command.
She exhaled, gripped the handlebar and lifted, supporting her share of the weight.
"Ready, step!"
She went over each step in her head, like a choreographed dance.
Left foot first...
Thirty-inch step...
Right foot to follow...
Left arm swing... but don't overdo it.
Repeat the process.
And breathe. For the love of God, don't forget to breathe.
She could feel her arm growing weaker with each step she took, her grip on the handlebar involuntarily loosening as she felt her strength draining from her.
Maybe she wasn't ready for this? Maybe she should have pulled out, stayed home? Evelyn would have understood. Castle had even offered to give the eulogy on her behalf.
Esposito's voice cut through her thoughts as he called their next command.
"Bearers, halt!"
They came to a stop, and the sway was undeniable to a point where, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Esposito turn his head to make sure she was okay.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, exhaled through pursed lips and gave a subtle nod to assure him she was fine.
"Ready, down!" he called, and they lowered Montgomery onto the catafalque.
Once the casket had been lowered, she touched her gloved hand to it.
The funeral director stepped up to the podium, beginning the ceremony and requesting the pallbearers take their seats.
She sat wedged between Castle and Esposito trying as hard as she could to listen to the prayers, readings and speeches as each new speaker approached the podium, but she simply couldn't give them her full attention.
Each speaker that stepped away from the microphone was a step closer to her having to get up in front of the crowd and talk about the man that had taught her everything she knew about being a good cop, the man that offered her a pseudo-paternal shoulder to lean on when life got to be just a little too much, the man that knew her so well he figured out her relationship with Castle and that she was pregnant in just a few short weeks.
The man that had a past filled with secrets, secrets that ultimately led to the death of her mother.
The man that lied to her for years, sat on the answers she needed and, even when he knew he was minutes from death, refused to give her the closure she had craved since that cold winter night twelve years ago.
She sniffled and suddenly she felt two hands reaching out to offer silent comfort and support. Castle laced his fingers through hers while Esposito simply placed his hand over the top of hers, barely a touch, but a monumental show of support that she appreciated dearly.
After a handful of representatives had spoken, it was Kate's turn.
She stepped up to the podium and pulled out the tattered eulogy.
She glanced over the scribbled words: messy and a little smudged, but they would do.
"Roy Montgomery taught me what it meant to be a cop," she started, praying her voice wouldn't crack under the pressure.
Her eyes searched the crowd, studied the solemn faces as she spoke.
"He taught me that we are bound by our choices, but we are more than our mistakes."
She found her father, sitting with Martha and Alexis. She wondered if that was coincidence, if they had struck up a casual conversation with the first friendly face they found in a sea of strangers, or if they had been guided together purposefully. Her eyes followed the line of seats, landing on her best friend, and her question seemingly answered itself.
"Captain Montgomery once said to me that for us there is no victory. There are only battles. And in the end, the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand. And if you're very lucky, you find someone to stand with you."
Her eyes fell to Castle, who was smiling at her in the most encouraging way.
"Doing great," he mouthed, giving her a subtle thumbs up.
With his vote of confidence, she took a deep breath and continued.
"Our captain would want us to carry on the fight. And even if there is a new battle for us to face each day, there is also hope. Each day has promise and potential and even on the days where we feel like the world might actually end and we are surrounded by darkness, there is light. Captain Montgomery found his light in speaking for those who had been silenced. He found his light by celebrating each little triumph. Most importantly, he found his light in his family; his wife and children, his friends, and in the family he forged at the Twelfth. Or, as Montgomery liked to call us, the 'couple hundred grown up children that he is somehow responsible for'."
An echo of solemn chuckles moved through the crowd like a wave, giving everyone a temporary reprieve from the heaviness of the day.
Her eyes drifted across to Montgomery's family. His children sat silently, eyes glued to the ground in front of them. Her heart ached for them; she remembered feeling so lost and confused at her mother's funeral, and these children were barely teens having to deal with these intense emotions.
She looked at Evelyn, locking eyes with the grieving widow who seemed to be hanging on every word she had said, clinging so desperately to everyone's memories of her husband, as if enough kind words being spoken would be enough to erase the pain.
"Roy," she said, turning her attention to the casket as if she was addressing her captain directly. "You have made an impact on so many lives and you will be missed immensely. Thank you, for everything. Rest in peace."
She folded her tatty piece of paper and stuffed it back into pocket as she returned to her seat.
A dispatcher stepped up to the podium, taking her place. He waited as the flag was lifted from Montgomery's casket, folded and presented to Evelyn.
Evelyn accepted the flag, placing it on her lap and smoothing her fingertips over the material. Kate watched on as reality set in and Evelyn wept, clinging to the flag, until the widow's grief was too much and Kate had to look away, fighting back her own tears.
After a few moments, the dispatcher spoke.
"3-0-5-9-1," he called Montgomery's badge number over the radio.
Silence filled the air, settling heavy over the mourners. The final radio call ceremony was always difficult.
"3-0-5-9-1… Calling badge number 3-0-5-9-1."
Kate closed her eyes, listening to the stifled sobs and sniffles of the crowd as she swallowed her own emotion.
"This is the last call for badge number 3-0-5-9-1."
There was a small part of her that awaited the crackled response of her captain through the radio. She held her breath, focused on the static.
Nothing.
And in a moment that lacked all logic and reason, her heart broke all over again.
"No response from Captain Roy Montgomery."
She exhaled, tried to ignore how shaky her breathing was. When she opened her eyes, her vision blurred by the tears that had formed behind closed eyelids.
"Badge number 3-0-5-9-1 is out of service after 20 years and 4 months of police service. Although you are gone, you will never be forgotten. Rest in peace, our friend."
She gathered herself, swallowed the pain. She had a job to do. One final task before she could go home, fall into bed and stay there until the hurt faded.
"The time is 11 o'clock, May 23rd, 2011."
In the distance, the firing party began the three-volley salute.
The first shot echoed through the cemetery, sending shivers down Kate's spine.
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the memories but the second and third shots only made them more vivid.
But it was over now.
She let out a breath, unaware that she had held it in so long.
The Colour Guard removed the flags, parading them down the centre aisle as the music began to play again.
As the choir gathered to sing Amazing Grace, the pallbearers stepped up to take their positions, ready to lead their captain to his final resting place.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me...
She felt Castle's presence, stepping up to the spot behind her, instantly comforting her.
"You did it," he whispered.
She let out a breath that seemed to ease a tremendous weight from her shoulders.
She did it.
She turned, slightly, until his face came in to view. His smile, while wildly inappropriate for their current situation, was infectious and before she could stop it, her own mouth had curved into a shy smile.
The dozen voices that formed the choir were joined by various mourners from the crowd as they sang.
I once was lost, but now I'm found...
This moment was what Montgomery had meant, all those times he had pointed out that Castle was good for her. She knew she wouldn't have been able to do this without his support.
Was blind, but now I see...
In all her anger and heartache, she had forgotten the greatest gift Montgomery had ever given her: this partnership.
She took a moment to school her expression, remove the smile from her face before turning back to face the crowd.
The distant sonic boom and whistle gave them no warning for the horror to come.
Deep red splatter sullied Castle's suit, staining the bare skin of his neck as the frantic screams from the terror-stricken crowd replaced the angel-like harmony of the choir.
Castle's eyes widened. "Kate?"
She tried to speak, but she was frozen.
Frozen, but burning.
There was fire in her chest, raging wildly. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't stand.
He caught her as she fell; pain seared through her body as it crashed against his.
"I-" she gasped.
"Kate, shh..." He lowered her to the ground, placed his hands over the fire. "Kate-"
"Beckett's down!"
Down.
Dying.
She shuddered, her body going cold except for that fire in her chest, that only seemed to intensify.
"Stay with me, Kate."
He was begging, pleading.
She wanted to reassure him: she wasn't going anywhere. There's nowhere she would rather be than right here, in his arms. But the words wouldn't come.
She felt his hand scoop under the back of her head, supporting her, cradling her.
"Don't leave me, please." His tears fell to her face, warm and wet. "Stay with me, okay?"
She nodded. At least, she thought she did. Everything was fading... numbing.
Everything but that damn fire.
She could hear herself gasping and gargling with each breath she tried to draw in.
Tried, and failed.
Her throat was filling, she felt like she was drowning.
She was losing focus, losing sight of him, unable to feel him anymore.
That's what hurt most: losing him.
She was tired, just wanted to close her eyes, just for a second.
They fluttered shut and for a moment, a short yet sweet moment, the pain stopped. The panic stopped.
"No!" His voice broke through the haze and she forced her eyes open, tried to focus on his face.
Using the little energy she had left, she reached up to touch him.
It was too hard, she was too weak, but she had to feel his face in her hand one last time. She had come to love the way his face felt pressed against her palm as she looked into his adoring eyes. She needed that, before she left.
But her fingertips were numb, she couldn't feel the warmth of his skin.
She closed her eyes, felt her own tears wash down her face and into her hair.
"I- I feel it," she muttered breathlessly.
Her own voice sounded like a distant echo and she wasn't even sure if she had said the words out loud. But that wouldn't stop her, she needed him to know.
She swallowed the metallic tasting lump in her throat, trying to draw in more air.
"I -" She sucked in another breath. "- love you."
"No, no, Kate, stay with me," he sobbed. "Please. I love you. Please don't leave me."
She focused on the sound of the choir's backing track - the orchestral rendition of Amazing Grace - and allowed the knowledge that Castle's arms were securely around her to drown out the chaos and the pain.
It was beauty.
It was peace.
And then, there was nothing.
