4 months ago | 0

that anon who just sent me that prompt
You will be responsible for the rampant blushing and spazzing on my part. Oh man. No promises. That was never quite my division, that type of fic!
Though I do always like a challenge.

4 months ago | 44
"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.

"Blackbird fly…"


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. 


2 years ago | 0
"Prompt if you’re up for it: Castle and Beckett right after their first child is born (you can include the events leading up to it too if you like, it’s all up to you) :)"

Oh I’m always up for a prompt! 8D This one ran away from me a bit admittedly.


They stood in front of the glass with her leaning against his side, a smile stuck onto both of their faces. That smile wasn’t going to leave for quite some time. But she didn’t mind. This was their baby. Their beautiful, beautiful little boy. They had a child. Her child. His child. Their child. Oh my god.

“He’s beautiful, Kate,” he said, nestling his face into her hair, “He’s so beautiful.”

“He had your eyes,” she said softly, looking at the sleeping little baby wrapped up in blue, “He opened his eyes and his eyes were so blue, just like yours.”

“He has your strength though,” he said, hand wrapping around hers and squeezing lightly,

“I remember he grabbed at my finger and he was already so, so strong. I hope he’ll be as strong as you someday, Kate.”

She smiled absently, focus still on the little boy, “I’m sure he will be. Though I sincerely hope he will never go through what I did…”

“He won’t,” he said, tugging her closer into his body, “We’ll make sure it will never happen, not until he’s grown and with his own family.”

“We can’t promise that,” she breathed, “What happens if I’m on the job and something happens? What happens then, Castle?”

“Kate, we’ve had this discussion before,” he said, “You know that if you hadn’t been going through the last part of your pregnancy being away from the precinct that long would’ve killed you. You know that.”

“I know… it’s just…” she sighed, “I just…”

“If there’s one thing you learn as a parent,” he interjected, “It’s that you can’t protect your kids from everything. As much as you try to be the impenetrable shield that keeps out all the darkness, someday something is going to slip through. And that’s okay. All we can do is make sure we give him the best chance we can give him. And you can do that by being happy at the precinct.”

“I know,” she said, “Can’t really picture myself as the soccer mom too well.”

He chuckled, “I’m sure you’d find a way to make it fit. Just imagine- you in the kitchen, making cookies for the next school fundraiser…”

“In your dreams,” she grumbled, “That’s… no. Not happening. No. You’re right.”

They stood in silence for a moment, just standing and looking at the little boy, their precious son. He squirmed in his cradle, curling into his side with an adorable yawn. 

Family. They were a family.

Rick, Her, Alexis, the baby, and Sherlock.

Yes, Sherlock.

She had eventually been forced to succumb (or rather, her hormones decided that it was time for her to throw up) to letting that be the name for the puppy. Yes, a puppy.

It had been Rick’s idea. He’d be the one taking care of it, as now instead of being at the precinct every day he’d be spending more time at home with the baby. She’d been conflicted about it. She wanted a parent to be there for the baby, but she also wanted him at the precinct. But she knew she couldn’t be selfish, and the baby was number one. Especially now, the baby was definitely number one in her world, no doubt about that. But anyway.

One day she came out of their room to see a bit of a surprise.


“Castle?” she said, stumbling out of their room groggily, “Where are you?”

The baby wasn’t too happy with her being up and about, kicking in retaliation. The kicks had been getting more and more frequent lately. Castle had called the baby their little Joey a couple times. Like a kangaroo baby, he always said. She rubbed a hand over her ever-swelling belly, “Shh little man, shhh… Just getting up, it’s not the end of the world.”

The kicking stopped.

Now where was her other man?

“Living room, Kate,” he called, and she turned to face the couch. Oh my god, was that a…

An adorable little golden retriever, or some mix of golden and something else, puppy sat on the couch (of course it was on the couch, of course it was), a Sherlock hat on its head and a mini banner around its neck. Her sleep-addled eyes apparently didn’t feel like being capable of reading what it said, so she shuffled closer to take a look.

“Castle, is this a dog?” she accused, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No it’s a unicorn,” he said with a grin. She rolled her eyes before turning back to the adorable puppy. It blinked big brown eyes at her and its hat fell into its eyes. The puppy yelped, falling backwards as the hat slid off. It got back to vertical, looked up at her, and she could’ve sworn it was smiling. How could she be upset at that face? “It’s the dog we agreed to get, remember?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, sitting down on the couch on the other side of the puppy than Castle, “I don’t. Was I still asleep?”

“Maybe,” he said, “But you said yes to getting a dog so the baby would have a playmate. You also agreed to naming it Sherlock.”

“Are you sure this is me you’re talking about?” she said, “Guess that name explains the hat.”

He nodded, “Isn’t it cute, though?”

“Hate to admit it, but it is,” she said, smiling at the puppy as it jumped on the hat, “What’s the banner say?”

“Baby’s Best Friend,” he said, taking up the hat and letting the puppy pull at it with tiny teeth, “Fitting, huh?”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, jolting a bit as the baby kicked, “What now, little Joey?”

“The baby kicking again?” he asked, putting half of his attention on the puppy and half on her, “Do you think he likes his new friend already?”

The puppy let go of the hat, bounding over Castle’s legs towards Kate’s rounded stomach. They froze as the puppy sniffed at her stomach, beginning to wag his tail moments later. Sherlock barked. The baby kicked again.

“I think they already have a great relationship,” she said.

“Did I mention who this pup’s grandfather is?” he said after a moment’s pause.

“…No,” she said, “Should I be worried?”

“No! Not at all,” he said, smiling, “You remember that dog show case the year before we got together?”

“With that reality tv show girl?” she said, wrinkling her nose, “Yes, yes I do.”

“Remember that dog we shared for a couple of days? Royal?”

“Yeah, and I remember you spoiled him rotten.”

“I did not-” he started, and she shot him a look, “Alright, maybe a little. But that’s not the point. Well Sherlock here would be his grandson.”

“Really?” she said with a smile, “Guess that explains the fixation with the couch.”

“Totally does,” he said. They sat in each other’s arms for a little while longer, going in for a kiss. As if just to remind everyone that they were there too, the puppy bounced up in between them followed by the baby kicking her again.

“Ouch!” he said, “I felt that one.”

“Imagine how they must feel for me then,” she huffed, “This little boy might well be a kangaroo, he kicks so much.” 

He smiled, “Well, I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“It will be,” she said, “It will be.”


And oh, it was.

Standing on the border of his apartment with the boy wrapped tightly in her arms, she knew it. A colorful banner stood at the entrance of their door, and a little note from “Sherlock” adorned the bottom of it, signed with a pawprint. At the sight she knew. She knew it was worth every kick, every bout of awful morning sickness, and every hormone-riddled mood swing. It was so very, very worth it.