A/N: Needed a new project anyway;)

'Felix Finis'

(A Happy Ending)

So close to reaching
That famous happy end.
Almost believing
This one's not pretend.
And now you're beside me,
And look how far we've come.
So far, we are. So close...

Oh how could I face the faceless days,
If I should lose you now?

'So Close' by Jon McLaughlin

Prologue:

She isn't certain how long she stares at the flames.

So hot, so bright, so terrifyingly fierce as they continue to engulf the mangled remains of what was once Castle's beautiful Mercedes. She doesn't really register the tears that stream heavily down her face, just the need to keep on wiping them away. Keep her eyes fixed on what remains of him.

Except that it can't possibly be true.

Reality.

It can't. Because she can't do this, she can't be here; she can't even breathe in a world without him.

She keeps expecting that she'll wake up any minute. Because she has to. She just has to. This is the happiest day of her life, she's been waiting for this forever . . .

His last words to her are clear as day, bright and vibrant and true within her and she clings on to them.

"Kate, I love you."

Precious words. His words. Her whole life and it's always been his words that meant more to her than anything.

So he can't be dead. He just can't . . . he just can't be. It's not possible, she thinks it even as it feels like her heart is dying in her chest, burning into a write-off as forever useless as the vehicle before her.

The Hamptons' Fire department arrives just as Espo's strong arms are suddenly tugging at her, pulling her away from the edge. Kate kicks and screams and the arms tighten, meaningless words of comfort offered until she sags broken, a puppet with no strings - just as the last of the fiery inferno is doused out.

There's a weird silence in the aftermath. A beat like breath, a pause like everything, like the universe is on-hold until . . .

There's a body in the car. Burned beyond all recognition, but it's definitely a tall, male. It's just preliminary . . . but it fits.

Later she won't remember any of being taken from the scene of the crash and back to the house. The hugs, the words of comfort, the support all her gathered loved ones try to offer, it's all white-noise and she's trapped away from them like she's in a parallel dimension, because the only person she wants in the world is the one no longer here.

Martha helps her out of the dress. Immediately stowing the stunning gown with a quiet solicitude and stoicism so it isn't a painful reminder, before she dresses her like a child into a set of clean and comfortable pajamas. Kate simply sits then where Martha puts her and waits.

Nothing will register until there's a prick in her arm and a cold sensation, a creeping lethargy as the sedative kicks in.

At this point Kate doesn't care. Nothing is all that stretches before her for eternity anyway.

He's bruised and battered, bound and gagged, but relatively unhurt. Blood drips persistently down into his right eye from a deep gash up in his hairline somewhere, but it's superficial. His previously immaculate wedding attire is ruined however and he's furious, but certainly not about that.

This rage is cold. A bitter opposite to the fire that's destroying what's left of his car. The stone cold rage of impotence, of not seeing something until it it's too late. And it's breaking his heart, ripping it to shreds because this is a nightmare he walked into, lamb to the slaughter, all planned.

All of it.

Everything from Kate's unknown marriage, to her ruined dress to their burned out venue. A careful manipulation of circumstances; a poetic ballet of cause and effect, leading the pair of them – he and Kate, guiding them so valiantly here. So desperate to save their perfect day, that they didn't once stop to rationally question the continuing barrage of bad things that just kept on happening to interfere with them.

And he feels so fucking broken, so stupidly destroyed now that he didn't see it coming. That in the wake of finally being free of Bracken he forgot that there was still a reason not to let his guard down.

He should have seen it. He should have seen it from act one, from the very first domino.

It was so blatantly, glaringly obvious.

Come on. How many background checks has Kate had to go through in her career and not one of them ever managed to uncover that she was married to a criminal?

It's ludicrous.

In hindsight he sees it all.

Just as he sees the soul-destroying scene unfolding in front of him - because he's forced to, watching from the bushes as Kate breaks and splinters before his eyes. The most beautiful thing he's ever seen in her gorgeous gown and everything in him tries to reach out to her, he begs her in his mind. He pleads.

He blocks out the terrifying chuckle of Jerry Tyson, as the sick fucking psycho, someone Castle hates more than he's ever hated anything - rejoices beside him, and he wills the words to her silently, over and over and over again . . .

"I love you, Kate. Don't give up, Baby. Fight, Kate. Fight with me. I promise you your happy ending."