A/N: This is the last chapter. Thank you anyone who's read this, particularly if you've taken the time to review, and especially since I posted this so long after the finale aired without it being a fix-it fic or a speculation for season 7. I wasn't exactly sure anyone would be interested.

In advance, I'd like to apologise for the feels – I think I've probably made the ending even angst-ier. Sorry!

Jim sat quietly, resisting the urge to check his watch again – they all knew that Rick was running more than late. An hour had gone by slowly, the first half of which had been spent with Kate nervously laughing and telling them that Rick was probably going for dramatics. It had soon became clear that even traffic couldn't have delayed him so severely and their worries stewed, simmering and building as more unmarked time progressed for they were too scared to actually look at their watches now.

Around him, Lanie, Martha and Alexis questioned the groom's absence, seemingly oblivious to how it only contributed to his daughter's stress.

"It's been an hour already and the natives down there are getting restless," Lanie complained, turning away from the window and the sight of the guests all wandering around Richard Castle's garden, having given up remaining in their allocated seats long ago. In the back of her mind, Lanie cursed Castle for causing a hold up – there had been enough difficulties getting the wedding off the ground without him fooling around and running late too.

"They'll be fine," Jim said quietly, more worried about Kate than the whereabouts of the wedding guests.

"Where do you think he is?" Martha asked, completely out of ideas. They'd ruled out traffic jams, the possibility of Rick running into an old friend and everything they could think of up to and including alien abduction. There was just no explanation, no reason for Rick to leave his bride – the woman he had fought so hard and so long for – at the altar.

"I don't know," Kate replied, unable to stay seated with the others who, despite their good intentions, were making the situation worse. "When I spoke to him last, he said he was less than twenty minutes away." Without looking back, Kate took a few steps, hoping to have a shred of privacy as she dialled Rick's number, praying that he would pick up this time.

At first she'd held off on calling, knowing that he was driving, that he had probably just underestimated how long it would take him to reach the house, that he was probably too eager and had made some sort of mistake. As the others repeatedly suggested giving him a call – just to check up on him – though, she'd given in only to receive her fiancé's voicemail.

It rang once.

"This is Richard Castle."

She knew immediately from the slight echo and the tin-like quality of his voice that it was just the recorded message she was hearing – the same one she'd heard half an hour ago. She let it go on though, hearing the whole thing before she hung up.

"Leave me a message."

"Straight to voicemail," Kate told them, refusing to meet any of their eyes as she turned back around. Even without the eye contact, her stress was palpable to the room's other occupants, none of whom could hardly believe the turnaround from the happiness that had been physically bubbling out of her, refusing to be contained, just an hour previously.

Jim shared a discreet look with Martha, who shook her head – absolutely clueless about what was going on. If this was some elaborate plan of Rick's, none of them were in on it. Even his mother wasn't that good an actress.

Kate's phone trilled in the anxious atmosphere, and as Jim looked up, the hope on Alexis and Martha's faces was clear to see. It obviously wasn't Richard though.

She answered with a simple hello, continuing to say, "Yes, this is she," as whoever was on the other end of the line asked whether they were speaking to Katherine Beckett. Jim's heart sank. In the pit of his stomach, something dark and despairing began to fester within him, and he was on his feet before he really knew what he was doing, trailing his daughter as her face turned ashen and she dashed from the room without a word, her phone falling from sensationless fingers.

"Hello? Ms Beckett? Are you there?"

Martha picked up the phone with shaking hands, knowing and fearing what to expect.

"Katie!" Jim called, running as fast as he could on his old legs. There was no reaction from his daughter as she hurried out of the front door ahead of him. She didn't look back, she didn't turn, she didn't falter. Honestly, he didn't think she'd heard him at all.

He could only watch – too slow – as she dived into the back of the wedding car and ordered the driver to start driving. It didn't stop him from getting into one of the other cars, however, and thanking his lucky stars that its owner was naïve enough to leave the keys tucked in the sun visor. He drove as though possessed, speeding and overtaking anybody and everybody in the way, until he finally spotted the white Rolls Royce and the flashing blue lights of two police vehicles beyond it. In the middle of the road stood Kate, the white of her dress a start contrast to the asphalt and the dark haze of smoke all around.

He shouted her name, rushing past the chauffer, standing by his open car door and gaping, and on towards her. Wrapping his arms around her shaking frame while she sobbed and struggled to breathe, hyperventilating either from panic or the bad oxygen supply, he dragged her backwards, ignoring her struggles as well as the sight of a car in flames in the roadside ditch.

"Let me go. What if he's in there?" she repeated, over and over again, inconsolable and irrational as she fought to get to the Mercedes.

There was nothing they could do but watch as the firemen tackled the blaze, hoses running full blast to extinguish the burning car. Until the flames had been put out, neither Jim nor his daughter would have any idea whether Rick had been inside, but that didn't stop Kate from believing he was still trapped.

In the commotion, neither of them noticed a second car pulling up to the scene, Javier emerging from the driver's side soon after Martha and Lanie piled out of the back. The first they knew about their appearance was Esposito appearing to help Jim tow Kate further back, behind the police tape that two officers were unfurling. The fight left Kate in a rush, leaving her drained and boneless, makeup ruined by the tears still steadily streaking down her face. The smoke had stained her dress enough that no-one voiced a complaint when she sank to the floor, kneeling on the hot asphalt.

She was almost catatonic. When Esposito and Lanie stooped in front of her, she stared right through them. When they spoke, they received no response. She didn't even seem to notice the small group of family and friends, picking her up and essentially carrying her to a car. When they got back to the house, Lanie stripped her of the wedding dress, entrusting it to Jenny to get it taken to a drycleaners for professional attention.

Unsure of what they should do, the ME and detective reluctantly stepped out of the master bedroom, leaving just Jim to watch over Kate as she stared into space, almost curled up in a foetal position.

It was disconcerting for Jim to see his daughter so withdrawn – it was a stark reminder of the days following Johanna's death that he had been sober enough to still remember, days the pair of them had spent side by side in silence, days he didn't want to see a repeat of. He opened his mouth only to find no words leaving his lips. A quiet sigh – unheard by Kate's ears – slipped from him as he tried to find something to say, contemplating what Johanna would do. He had no doubt that his darling wife would have known just the thing to tell their daughter, would have been able to give her hope.

Before he could say a word, the harsh quiet of the room was disturbed by the trilling of Kate's cell phone where it lay, carefully abandoned on the bedside table presumably by Martha or Alexis. His eyes flicked to Kate, but it was obvious from one glance that she wasn't going to reach out for the phone and answer, so Jim shifted to his feet and crossed the room to grab it himself. It took a moment to figure out how he was supposed to answer – whatever happened to simple buttons? – but eventually he got it and lifted the phone to his ear in time to hear a man on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Ms Beckett?"

"Sorry, she's currently…indisposed," Jim answered, replied, eyes flicking to Kate as he found a way to describe her condition. "I'm her father. Who am I speaking with?"

"This is Chief Brady, Hamptons Police. I'm calling with information for Ms Beckett regarding her fiancé, Richard Castle?"

"You can tell me, I'll pass the information along."

"The firemen have just doused the fire and we've conducted a thorough search of Mr Castle's vehicle."

"And?"

"Mr Castle was not in the blaze. Our search of the surrounding area has not yielded any results so far, but of course we'll continue our efforts. Forensics will be going over the car soon and as soon as we know more, I'll be calling again."

"Thank you," Jim murmured, staring at his daughter as he tried to work out whether the fact that they'd yet to find Rick was good or bad news.

"No problem, Sir. Just doing the job." There was a pause before Chief Brady spoke again. "If you could pass my condolences along to Ms Beckett, I'd very much appreciate it. Mr Castle was a stand up member of the Hamptons community."

The man's use of the past tense, his apparent lack of hope for finding Rick safe, was not lost on Jim, but he consented anyway before hanging up and turning his full attention to Kate. He tried everything to get her attention – calling her name, squatting so he was in her field of vision, stroking her hair, squeezing her hand – but nothing worked until he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook rather forcefully.

"Dad?" her voice cracked on the one word, fresh tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she focused on him. She stumbled back out of his grip, almost tripping over the corner of the bed as she rounded it and made her way into the bathroom. He didn't follow, but when she didn't reappear, he poked his head around the door to find her sat in the middle of the floor with a bottle of champagne in her hands. She'd yet to take the cork out, but the sight still made his heart stop, fear spiking within him.

His hands were gentle but insistent as he took the bottle from her.

She didn't look up as she murmured, "Lanie gave me this earlier. It was supposed to be for after… We were supposed to be celebrating…"

Relief that she wasn't treading the same path he had flooded through him, but it was short-lived. Rick was still missing. The wedding was still not happening. Kate was still crying, not even bothering with angrily swiping away the tears like he was used to seeing her do.

"He wasn't in the car, Katie," Jim told her, getting down on the floor – albeit slowly – with her where he could wrap an arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to her head. Her beautiful curls were still carefully styled despite the mess her dress had become. "You can't give up on him yet."

"He said that you know, when all this turned to shit with Rogan and the fire and Ryan's tuxedo and the dress, he said that if we wanted the happy ending, if we wanted the fairytale, we had to keep fighting for it, we couldn't give up."

"He's a wise man, that fiancé of yours," Jim said, squeezing her shoulder as she sniffled, almost chuckling because her father knew just how outrageously ridiculous Rick could be. "You should listen to him every once in a while." She nodded, finally scrubbing her fingers under her eyes to wipe away the salt water. "He's not dead, Katie. We'll find him – you know we're all here for you. Lanie, Javier, Kevin, Martha, Alexis and I, we'll all help you, and we'll find him. Whatever's happened, we'll find him."

A/N: So, there you have it… What I imagine might have happened had good old Jim been in For Better or For Worse. Thanks again for reading!