Quickie, unedited so all mistakes are mine.

Burned out shells of what used to be, surrounded by the scattered ashes of what will never be. Lives claimed by the powers that may not be and lives saved by the grace of, of something. It is this disaster that has struck the core of humanity and tore apart what we knew and replaced it with this façade of happiness.

But we all see the lies.

We all know that it is with trembling fingers and shaking confidence that he touches the evidence envelope. We all know that it is the initial contact that scared him, because picking it up, touching it, reading those words hastily scrawled, it means that the nightmare has left his dreams and entered his reality. A reality he can not change with a quick witted story and a few dashing smiles, a reality that will not budge no matter how he begs.

Because she is gone.

The one he loved the most has been taken from him. Forever.

He tears his eyes away from the blank wall they had been focused on and looks down at the unopened envelope in his hand.

He should open it.

He needs to open it, because only when he knows what lies inside will he have a shot at closure. But even then it is not guaranteed, nothing is guaranteed anymore, not like it used to be. Now, now life is a mess, life is crazy and chaotic and so, so fucked up. It is playing games with him, games he never signed up for, games he never wanted to play.

But here he is, the last solider standing, surrounded by death, and he doesn't know what to do.

He opens the envelope and tips the contents upside down on to the table.

It's a note.

A note scrawled onto a napkin by handwriting he will forever remember.

Dad.

The first word brings tears to his eyes and a surge of anger at the cruelty of fate courses through his veins. It isn't fair, this isn't right, it was just supposed to be a service project in South Africa. She was never supposed to be taken from him like this, not in this crude fashion.

They say the plane is going to crash.

He can see it now, happening in his minds eye, the writer in him taking over and creating his daughters last moments on earth.

There's a little boy sitting next to me, Jakob, he's scared. And, dad, I'm scared too. I'm to young to die.

The truth, she should not have been ripped from him like this and yet, even in the haze of tears, as he reads the next words he smiles because it is so Alexis.

Don't cry too much, it won't bring me back.

He pauses for a moment, debating between grabbing the bottle of Scotch he's been working on all morning, but he is to captivated by the words, he needs this, needs to hear her voice in his head.

I love you. You're the best dad in the world and I-

But then it's done, the rest of the words faded by water and exposure. The only sign of who had written it a familiar signature at the bottom

Alexis Castle

The tears are falling, again and there is nothing he can do to stop them. There is nothing he can do period. He has called every contact he has, every string he could pull has been yanked and broken. But nothing, nothing about the survivors, or the possibility of the survivors

He is losing hope, he is losing himself because part of him died with his daughter, part of him that should never be lost, is gone. He's floundering, he doesn't know what to do, but this letter, her alst words, he clings to them because without them, without them he has no closure.

She died on a plane, no doubt comforting a terrified boy, pushing her own fear aside and taking him onto her lap. Holding him against he as the plane plummeted downwards, the angry blue water rushing up to meet the hunk of steel.

Did she suffer?

It was a question that he had asked himself over and over again, she didn't deserve to suffer, she was his sweet, darling, insanely smart, daughter. The daughter who probably was more responsible than him. The daughter who indulged his childish fantasy's late into the night. The daughter who,

The daughter he loved.

The daughter he fought for.

The daughter who meant everything to him.

"Why?" he croaks out, the first words he has spoken since Beckett called him with the news.

He doesn't know who he's talking to, nor does he expect a response, but the words feel good, the questioning of the higher being felt good. Blaming someone felt good, cursing someone else felt good.

And then there is the knock on the door.

Again.

It's Beckett, she's been sitting outside his apartment for the past three days, refusing to let him deal with this alone. But he wants to be alone, he needs to be alone, losing a child was like having part of your soul burned and ripped from you and he doesn't know what to do.

There isn't a body to bury.

But there must be a funeral.

Her mother knows.

But they haven't spoken.

His life is over.

But he doesn't care.

He can't care.

And the knocking continues.

But he ignores it.

She'll give up, like she has for the past week. She'll give up on getting in, but she wont give up on him. She'll take her seat in the hallway and deal with her own grief, grieve on her own, in his hallway because it's the closest he'll let her come.

The crash is unexpected.

The sound of his door meeting the floor with a resounding thud and the following hisses of pain were definitely not expected.

He turns and isn't really surprised to see Kate Beckett standing in his kitchen, she looks quite possibly worse than him, but there is something wild in her eyes. She is clutching her phone in her hand and without speaking she tosses it at him. He doesn't catch it.

It crashes to the floor.

He looks at her, who is so important that she broke into his house to speak to him "Pick up the phone." She says quietly

He obeys, mostly out of curiosity, but also out of a strong desire to yell at whoever is on the other end.

"Hello?" he says flatly

"Dad."

He drops the phone again.

Beckett picks it up for him.

"Dad, it's me."

"I know." He says, confused, hopeful, scared "Where are you?" he asks, not sure if he wants the answer.

"Africa." She says

But. What?

Her voice is weak and he can tell that every word is struggle, but he can't get enough of it "I don't know what happened, not really, but I woke up here and I knew I had to call you. But" she pauses, taking a few breaths and gaining some strength "you didn't pick up, so I called Kate."

He can only imagine how that went. Kate sitting in his hallway, getting an unknown number from Africa on her cell, her picking up and hearing the voice of her best friends supposedly dead daughter on the other end. On some level he's surprised she didn't shoot her way in immediately.

"I love you." He said at once, as he grabbed his wallet, his car keys, and his own phone. He didn't have a plan, but it didn't really matter, his daughter was alive and he was going to get to her "I love you so much." He repeated "I-I thought you were dead, they showed me your note."

"You got that?" she asks, even in her weakened state she is obviosuyl surprised.

"I thought you were dead." He repeats, then he asks "Is there a doctor nearby?"

They are reluctant to be parted, but she hears the urgency in his voice "Gimme a second." She says and he hears the phone being passed around.

"Mr. Castle." Comes a soothing female voice.

"Rick." He says "How's my daughter?"

It's as he opens his car that he realizes Beckett is following him, taking the keys from his hand and sitting in the drivers seat. She knew where he was going, and she was coming to, if only to provide a little legal help to his cause, a badge and a gun went places these days.

"Dehydrated, with a broken arm and concussion but frankly it is a miracle she survived. She was unconscious when the rescue team found her and brought her here, we had no identification so we had to wait and see if she regained consciousness. As soon as she did she was demanding a phone."

He smiles, that was his daughter "Tell my daughter I'll be at—" he breaks off, not knowing where she is exactly.

"Cape Town Mass and General."

"I'll be there." He says, hearing the phone being passed around again "I'll be there as soon as I can." He repeats once he knows Alexis is on the other end "I love you."

"I love you too dad." She says

He hangs up and turns to Kate, a small smile adorning his lips for the first time in days "We need to get to Cape Town."

Uhm. Well, this was written when I was in a strange mood, so I don't really know what to think of it.