Chapter Text
Rain lashed relentlessly against the tall windows, the city beyond blurred into a shifting watercolour of amber streetlamps and glistening pavements. The faint hum of traffic below rose and fell like an unsettled tide, mingling with the rhythmic patter of droplets racing down the glass.
Inside, the apartment felt too large, too quiet. Richard Castle sat hunched at his desk, the bluish glow of his laptop casting faint shadows across his lined features. On the screen, bold letters announced: Nikki Heat: The Final Cut – Screenplay by Richard Castle. His fingers hovered over the keyboard but remained still, as though even the thought of typing was a weight too heavy to lift. Beside the laptop, in a simple silver frame, was a photograph of Kate Beckett—smiling, alive, the city skyline glowing behind her. The faint reflection of the picture shimmered on the polished desk. Castle reached out and brushed his fingertips across the glass, tracing the curve of her cheek with a tenderness that seemed almost reverent. The shrill buzz of his phone broke the stillness. He blinked, dragging himself back into the present.
“Hey, Dad.” Alexis’s voice was warm but laced with concern.
“I’m fine,” he lied smoothly, his eyes still fixed on the photograph. “Just… working.” A pause.
“You don’t sound fine.” He gave a soft chuckle, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I promise. Just a bit tired.” They exchanged a few more words before he ended the call, letting the silence settle again. A second later, the phone rang once more—this time a brisk, business-like tone from an unfamiliar number.
“Castle? It’s Martin Hayes. Just checking you’re all set for next week.”
“Next week?”
“Mallorca. First day of shooting, remember? The studio’s flying you out: sun, beaches, the whole thing.”
Castle’s gaze drifted once more to Beckett’s photo, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
“Yeah… I’ll be there.” The call ended. Outside, the storm raged on, the city swallowed by rain and neon haze. Castle sat back, fingers tapping absently against the desk, before leaning forward to whisper to the photo—his voice almost lost to the rain. “You always said I needed sun to clear my head.”
The laptop screen flickered in the dim light, the title Nikki Heat: The Final Cut glowing like an unspoken promise.