what if she…
They find the letter a week later.
The apartment’s covered in her dried blood. It’s everywhere. Droplets, droplets of her everywhere. He forced himself in. This was the last place she was alive and well and unharmed. Before hell broke loose. Before… before…
It doesn’t go away. The pain. It’s like a slow acting poison, a hangover that doesn’t end. A burn, a melting, a…. he doesn’t even know. It’s grief. Pure, agonized grief.
They should’ve known better. That agent didn’t know enough, they shouldn’t have thrown her in blind like that. They should have gotten out, they should have, they should have.
Some CSU guys had found it in a grate at the end of her blood trail, given it to Ryan who gave it to him. It was a letter. Her letter. It was her writing.
He opens it, hands shaking. These were her last words to him.
I don’t know how much time I have, even to write this letter. What I do know now, is that I’m in this and the only way I’m gonna make it out alive is to see this through. I’m sure everyone is looking for me and if they figure out I was here, CSU is gonna search this house. They’re gonna look for blood and they will find it. Which will lead them to this letter. Babe, it’s your letter and I hope you never have to read this and I can tell you all of these things in person. But if something happens and I don’t make it, I need you to know that our partnership, our relationship is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You’re an amazing man and I love you with all of my heart.
And then they’d found her in a ditch, like trash that bastard was throwing away. She deserved so much more. She deserved life.
He leans against the wall, rereading the words, tracing her final always and doing his best to avoid getting tear stains on the paper.
He went back to her grave then. They’d had her… buried with all of the honors she deserved. He hardly got through the eulogy, her ring gripped in his fist like holding it would bring her back. The cold metal had been no relief from this bitter cold that enveloped him, the pervasive cold of her absence. He collapsed on the grass before the smooth headstone, the letter gripped in his right hand and her ring in his left. The bright purple flowers he’d brought glow in front of the carved words. How anyone can be a grave carver… how anyone can deal with that…
He takes a deep breath, gripping the ring like a lifeline and speaks through a choked throat.
"Kate. I got your letter."
what if he…
It’s been months. It feels like years.
It doesn’t go away. The pain. It’s like a slow acting poison, a hangover that doesn’t end. A burn, a melting, a…. she doesn’t even know. It’s grief. Pure, agonized grief.
Grief, her old friend. Why must he have such an obsession with her? Was taking her mother, her mentor, her captain, her father in the drink not enough? Did it have to take her love too?
It’s been two months since they found him in a dinghy out at sea. He had been unconscious, shot, starved, dehydrated, had suffered brain damage to the point that he never woke up. He would never wake up, no matter what they did.
They found the key sown to his clothes, an enigmatic 38. It was thanks to a couple on their… honeymoon that they found the memory cards, that they found the tapes.
It takes seconds to replay in her mind, his haggard, tormented face. The desperation, the regret, the pain. Her love. Her always.
"Kate, if you’re seeing this, well, if you’ve seen this, I’m probably dead. I wanted you to know that I never intended to leave you, not like this, not on our wedding day, but I-I..it wasn’t my choice. I wish I could tell you what’s going on, I wish I could explain, but just know that I love you. I’ve always loved you. Always."
He wasn’t dead.
She isn’t sure what’s worse. Him being gone, or him being there, but trapped in his own unconscious. Either way he wasn’t there anymore.
She visits him every day in the hospital anyway, or tries to. Some work days she can’t get it in, but she does her best. There’s always fresh flowers from his family, her, the precinct. They keep the hospital as cheery as they can. She tells him about her day, about the cases. How Espo and Lanie are doing, how Sarah-Grace is, how his family’s doing. They keep each other above water, but she’s floating. She can’t find the ground. She’s lost, not drowning but far from solid ground.
She holds his hand in hers and begs for him to come back, please come back. An unanswered plea.a
She gets up to leave and kisses him on the cheek, trying not to cry. She’s always failed. She fails again.
"I love you, Rick. Always. Always."
#warning: character death #AU #castle #fanfiction #mine #6x17 #7x02 #kate beckett #richard castle #caskett
# he leaves a shirt out for her to find when she comes home # just out of the dryer # nice and warm # she’s come home late every night # he has a deadline and nikki is not cooperating (she never does) # but the moment she finds that clean and warm shirt # it all fades away # she leaves her work clothes and her spinning mind and her stress and anxiety at the door # drops them in the entryway to be picked up at some time that is decidedly later# and slips his shirt on instead # loving the way it still feels and smells of him even after the wash # how it surrounds her in comfort even before she’s seen him # she can hear him in his office # angrily pecking the keys of his laptop and tapping the backspace all too often and with alll too much force # so she wanders into the kitchen# and begins picking at some green grapes and setting some potatoes out for a late dinner # his hands seize her waist and spin her faster than she can make sense of # and the grin is on her face before she’s all the way turned around # her bare thighs hit the counter and she shivers with delight # the drag of his zipper is her cue and she quickly helps him out of his shirts # moves to take her own off but he stops her # ”leave it on” # so she does #she’s been ready since she slipped into it and he knows it # knows how much wearing his clothes turns them both on # he steps into the space between her spread legs # and reclaims his rightful place in one unrelenting stroke #her mouth drops to his shoulder and he stills inside her and whispers in her ear # ”welcome home sweetheart” #fanfiction (via n-p-y-d)
#nsfw #need to make myself a nsfw tag #castle #fanfiction #unfunfunfunf
Im sorry, but I’m gonna have to ask you to not make me think about such things, my heart can’t take it.
yes hello did my hand slip
Somehow they manage to get her away from the car.
They get her to trudge up the hill back to the all too white and pristine car in her all too muddied and wrecked once-white wedding dress. They get her propped up against the car, turned well away from the… the wreckage. They get her to wrap a towel around her neck, they get her to speak again. Lanie was fussing over her. Trying to get her back to sanity as tears ran down her own face. Alexis had rushed over with Lanie and Martha and the boys. That poor girl- God, what she must be going through.
The boys seemed determined to find him now, like… like Castle had told her they’d been after her shooting. They’d already wrangled up the Hamptons police- including that Deputy who’d never solved anything in his life before that corpse ended up in the… the pool.
God. Where was he? How could this have happened? What the hell-
"Beckett?" says Ryan as he approaches, "Can I ask you a few questions? I know it probably isn’t…"
"Shoot," she says quietly. Oh god. What if he’d been shot? What if he was dead? What if-
No. No. He wasn’t in the car. Someone was covering something up. He couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t be dead. It was Castle. He’d find a way, no matter what the hell was going on.
"Do you remember anything at all from that last phone call? Anything suspicious or that might lend a hint?"
"No," she says, taking a deep breath as she went back through their last- no, not last, just most recent- conversation. He’d been bringing back the marriage licence after all of the nonsense they’d had to go through with her crazy ex. Seems like a dream now, that insanity. He’d been a few minutes away. She’d been in her wedding dress. Her mom’s wedding dress. Martha had just given her those beautiful blue earrings that still steadfastly remained in her ears regardless of the nightmare of the past hour. No. There’d been nothing out of the ordinary.
"What was the last thing he said to you?"
She blinked back tears as she flashed back to the end. Keep it together, Beckett.
"That…. he loved me," she says, "And I said it back. That was it. And then…"
Her voice trails off with a glance to the burnt wreckage of a car in the pit next to them and Ryan bites his lip.
"Thanks," he says, turning to walk away before pausing to face her again, "We’ll find him. We will."
She nods, sinking into the car, gaze fixated on the ground and pointedly avoiding the wreckage. Lanie comes back up and wraps her in a big hug.
"We’ll find him," says Lanie, echoing Ryan’s message, "There’s no way we’re going to let him vanish. He’s out there. It’s Castle. He survives. If he hasn’t already talked the ears off of whoever he’s stuck with…"
She gives her a weak smile and nods.
They’d find him.
They had to.
First impressions can leave lasting memories of a person, even years later. During a planning session for the Johanna Beckett fundraiser, a certain writer flashes back to a book signing where he met a very memorable detective to be…
#oh god alex this is so old oh my god #fanfiction #now i just want to rework this thing #mine
Beckett’s realization that coffee might not just be coffee for her and Castle over the course of time. Caskett fluff.
Based off a tumblr prompt: Beckett dies after five years of being married to Castle. She watches him from above and hopes that he falls in love again.
Warning: Major Character Death.
A reworking of the ficlet written in response to the prompt an anon sent me here. Thinking of making this 2-3 chapters perhaps? Let me know what you think.
#fanfiction #mine #reworked that prompt answer #might make this longer #more chapters #perhaps #castle #castle fanfiction #kate beckett #richard castle #caskett
"Prompt! Beckett dies after 5 years of being married to Castle. She watches him from above and hopes that he falls in love again."
She stumbles in front of the gun pointed at her husband, the 3XK’s triumphant grin falling as she does. He’d left her for dead on the ground, beaten and bruised and emaciated after over a week of torture with a heavily bleeding wound to her side. But she had one last scrap of energy.
And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him take Castle from this world too.
The bullet hits her chest, awfully near to her scar, and the blazing pain seems almost dull on top of everything else. It was hard to be in more pain than she had been for the past week or however long it was, and a bullet could only add so much to the broken bones and the torn skin and the whiplashes and what not. The 3XK was one sadistic bastard.
She falls, giving in to everything as she falls to the floor. She’s conscious of someone else shooting again, another body crumpling to the floor. But it’s not Castle’s body, because he’s cradling her in his lap, frantically trying to stop the bleeding from both heart and side. She gives him a weak smile.
"Rick," she says weakly, shaking from the shock and the pain, barely getting the words out.
"No, Kate," he says desperately, a plea that she cannot fulfill, "You can’t leave me! Not now! Stay with me, I love you, stay with me, Kate."
She stares at his beautiful blue eyes, glowing in the darkness slowly encompassing her vision, and tries to commit that image to her mind, whatever of it was left. His beautiful, ruggedly handsome face. His words. He’s repeating now. Just the three words. I love you. I love you Kate. Just like the last time she ended up shot, huh?
Macabre thoughts for a dying person.
Though there’s hardly more macabre a situation to be in.
The last thing she sees is his blue, blue eyes as everything fades to black.
So this is the afterlife, huh?
It’s a bunch of warm gray mist. Everywhere. It’s like those dry-ice clouds they use during performances or something. But it’s everywhere, and it doesn’t just wisp away once the curtain goes up. And even though she’s lost in the fog, she feels at peace here. It’s light. Everywhere is a warm, bright light.
It’s rather lonely, this world of fog. Perhaps she’s just in the beginning. She read a book one- The Five People You Meet in Heaven- and while she was no practitioner of an organized religion, she’d always liked the idea. The protagonist had met the five people who had most influenced him in his life, and after realizing truly what each had done for him in their own personal heavens, the person got to move on to the next stage. At the end, the protagonist got his own personal heaven to live in while he waited for the person he had to teach his lesson to. Perhaps this was the beginning. Though who knew. This was the greatest mystery that no detective could ever solve. A witness-less scene, a place that no intel could get you knowledge of. The unsolvable question.
Something in her swelled at the adventure as she made her way through the fog, her prior injuries gone. There was no sense of direction in this mist world at all, at first anyway. As she walks on for who knows how long she becomes conscious of a familiar voice humming a familiar lulling song- Blackbird. Her mother had always sat with her and sung that when she was little when she had nightmares- it would both distract her and lull her off to sleep. Her mother had always been clever.
As she approaches the voice the words become clearer.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see… all your life… you were only waiting for this moment to be free. Blackbird fly…"
She approaches the singer, an immediately recognizable woman in pale purple clothes, the first spot of color she’s seen in this afterlife.
The woman turns, a huge smile coming over her face as she turns from the curious silver basin before her. She stops singing.
She runs to her mother, arms wrapping around her physical form, strange in this ethereal place of fog and light. She shakes with happiness and tears and just… all the emotions. Everything. Thank goodness this part of the cliche was true.
"I’ve missed you so much Momma," she says, feeling like a child again in her mother’s warm embrace, "I’ve missed you so much.
"I’m so proud of you, Katie," says her mother, pulling back to look at her daughter’s face, "And how you’ve grown- how beautiful you are to see in front of me at last! I mean. I have been watching, but it’s not the same."
She gestures to the silver basin, which looked to be a large, intricate birdbath. The closest thing she could think of was the Pensieve from Harry Potter.
"It’s like a looking glass into the world," explains her mother, bringing her daughter over to peek over the edge into the crystal clear water within, "I get to spy on anyone I knew when I was alive. Good fun, this thing."
"I bet you’ve had fun," she says, laughing, "You were always eavesdropping in… the world."
"That I did," says her mother, "And yes, the whole… world thing takes some getting used to. But you’ll explore this place soon enough. I’m moving on soon enough now that you’ve arrived."
"But why? I want to stay with you… I’ve only just got you again!"
"We’ll see each other soon, Katie," says her mother, "Don’t you worry. Our paths will cross. But for now it’s time for me to join your father in the next leg of the journey, and your turn to await here for your dear ones."
"Don’t go," she says plaintively, but her mother is already moving on again with a final smile and encouragement to her daughter as she disappears into the fog, borne by some river swirling through the fog below. She cannot feel the current, not yet. But she supposes she will, someday.
After a moment of sadness, being deprived of her mother again, she turns to the basin. She knew who she wanted to see, and the basin did not disappoint. Before her swirled into view Castle, clad in full black, with Javi and Ryan and LT as they carried the… her? Her coffin. That was a weird thought. To a grave. Castle seemed to be hardly holding back tears. Iron Gates was cracking, tears falling down her face. Lanie was distraught as were Martha and Alexis. Little Ellie, the poor daughter following her mother’s legacy a little too closely, was motherless and too young to truly understand. Oh that innocence. What she would have given to have stopped that from being sullied so early. But if she had not acted, her darling girl, her Ellie, would have been an orphan.
Espo breaks down in the middle of his speech. Ryan splits it with him but he too breaks down. Lanie steps in, taking up the baton but she too can hardly get through the last part.
Rick hardly gets through his speech. She cries. His words. His words were her savior and her killer, her miracle and her catastrophe. His words were sanctuary and hell, olive branch and weapon. But today. Today they are love. He tells their story, from the first day they met to the day they married, to the days of their five years after that. Of Ellie, of all of their hardships along the way. Of her. How he talks of her. That’s where he cannot get through the words and Alexis reads some of them for him. He speaks of her courage, of her inherent need for justice for everyone. Of her love for everyone she loved, of her respect for the victims and their families. Of her kindness, of her humor, of her tenacity and determination, of her selflessness to the very end.
And he says that she will always be his always. That he will always love her as he had for a long time, as everyone in the audience knows. And gripping his speech notes as if they could bring her back if he held them tight enough, he breaks down as he makes his way back to his seat, helped by his mother and older daughter. Ellie looks on in confusion through those big blue eyes she got from her father. She cannot understand yet, why Daddy’s crying, where Mommy’s gone. Not yet. But someday.
And as Rick pulls his youngest to him tightly with a hand running through her loose brunette curls gently as he once did to her, she hopes he can find love in this family again. Find the love she got the honor of having and sharing with him for those seven years in his family- both blood and precinct. Because he deserves that- to love again. And she will always love him here until he someday in the far, far future comes to join her in this land of mist and fog.
#OH GOD I STARTED CRYING WRITING THIS #ABORT #fanfiction #mine #prompt #anon #thanks for the prompt! #castle #castle fanfiction #ANGST #ANGST ANGST ANGST #angsty fanfiction #MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #Richard Castle #Kate Beckett #Caskett
Fluffy one-shot based of a tumblr prompt: Castle and Beckett watching a meteor shower in the Hamptons. Set at some point after they get married for real.
#thank you alex for putting this up!!! #shamelessly promoting my own story #fanfiction #mine
So I posted a thing to ff.net. That’s a rarity.
you guys should go read it
it’s unrelated to the finale
i’ll love you forever
"If you still want Caskett prompts: Castle and Beckett go to the Hamptons for Memorial Day weekend, but they both end up getting a cold and taking care of each other."
Oh yes I’m always up for prompts!
"I told you skinny dipping in your pool when it’s 50 degrees out was a terrible idea."
The two of them are curled up by the fireplace in his bedroom, wrapped up in blankets despite it being the start of summer. She had told him that it was a stupid idea but noooo he’d just been all “But Kaaaaatttteee” and gave her that puppy dog face and she couldn’t resist it. And he’d promised to make her some of his hot chocolate, and before she knew it they were heading outside in their robes. Which much to her carefully hidden pleasure, were matching. And this time there was no dead man to interrupt their fun.
But just as she had expected, it had been a terrible idea, and now they were both sniffly messes. What a way to spend Memorial Day weekend, huh? Not quite the weekend of living in sin she’d wanted.
"It seemed like a good one at the time," he huffs, sneezing, "And admit it- you had fun while we were doing it."
"Sure I did," she says, "Until we got out of your heated pool and had to run back to the house naked and soaked and freezing after you managed to knock the robes and the towels in with us."
He smiles sheepishly, “I got… excited.”
"Trust me, I know," she says, "And it was fun for a while. Not so much now."
He nods in a quiet agreement before looking at her in concern as a coughing fit took over. He picks up the spoon to the huge bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup in front of them, offering it up to her. She raises an eyebrow.
"I’m not a baby chick you need to feed, Castle," she says, smiling nonetheless.
"I’m the one who insisted we go skinny dipping in the cold," he insists, "And you’re sick because of it. Therefore I get to take care of you!"
She shrugs, taking the offered soup and taking the spoon, offering in the same way to her husband, who takes it the same way. They alternate in such a way until all the soup’s gone, the fire having dwindled down somewhat and the calm of the night sinking in. And they talk between sips about other times they’d been sick at inopportune moments, from the time she’d been so sick she’d missed her own birthday party (it had been a joint party with another girl sadly, so it had been held without her) to the time Castle had laryngitis right before his first big interview.
And after a long, steamy shower in his absurdly luxurious bathroom, they settle in for the night, cuddled in each other’s arms, the peace interrupted only by the occasional sniffle.
Perhaps it wasn’t the night she’d wanted. But it still turned out pretty damn great.