Mannequins and Marionettes: Epilogue
.
.
DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine
.
The Next Day, Monday – 9:25 a.m., April 2, 2012, At Richard Castle's Sausalito Residence
.
The smell of bacon is heavy in the kitchen, competing with the aroma of homemade biscuits, even with the large window above the stove that Richard Castle has opened. On the stove, a large skillet cooks some twenty to twenty-five pieces of bacon. A large bowl of cracked eggs mixed with a small amount of milk sits next to the range.
Kate Beckett stands next to him, pulling silverware from the drawer, counting out each piece. It's a school day, so Alexis is back in school. With her father home safely, there is no need for her to miss any classes. She argued the point, to no avail with her father.
Detective Jennifer Blackard stands at the large front window, a cup of coffee in her hands.
"They should be here any minute now," Kate tells the room at large.
"They are here now," Jennifer corrects her, watching the large black SUV park on the street below. She would wave, but she notices neither man looks up as they walk toward the front of the house.
"Watch the bacon for me?" Castle asks Kate. She nods, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before he walks to the front door. He opens the door wide and leaves it as such as he returns to the kitchen. A minute later, Sam Carlos and Willie Crockett enter the expansive home.
"An open door?" Carlos asks.
"Always," Castle remarks, drawing a smile from the woman next to him. Carlos smiles as he receives a knowing glance from Willie Crockett.
"I see what you mean," the black man whispers to Carlos, who simply nods his head in agreement.
"Thank you for the invitation Mr. Castle," Carlos begins.
"My friends call me Rick. Or Castle," the ex-author tells them with a smile. "Coffee?"
"Black please," both men reply, drawing a few chuckles from those in the room.
Carlos approaches the kitchen when he sees Jennifer standing next to the large window. She has not moved from the spot. She glances at the two men, offering them a smile, but turns her attention outside again.
The eggs are now in a separate skillet, simmering as they cook. The bacon is being pulled out, multiple pieces at a time and placed on a large serving platter. The biscuits are now on the table, that has been set for five.
"You are a gracious host, Mr . . . Castle," Carlos amends.
"Last name. Oh great you, too?" Castle laughs.
"Richard it is, then," Carlos corrects himself yet again. "You are a gracious host."
"I am for my friends," Castle tells him.
"So, we are friends?" Carlos asks. He wants to hear it from the ex-author himself. It is important to him.
"In my book, absolutely," Castle replies. "I owe you. A lot. And yes, I know what that admission could possibly mean in the future," Castle tells him, his hand extended. Carlos accepts the hand, shaking it vigorously. Castle then offers his hand to Willie Crockett, who returns the gesture.
"Breakfast," Kate tells the group. She approaches her friend – a mobster and savior of sorts – and greets him with a hug. It isn't the typical, one-second brush off hug. She holds him. For a few seconds. Then longer.
"Thank you, Sam," she whispers to him. "For everything."
Willie Crockett is taken aback with the emotional greeting. He begins to understand the history, and the depth of feeling his boss must be feeling now. He is more surprised when Kate removes herself from Carlos and offers a heartfelt albeit shorter hug to the tall black man.
Sam Carlos takes a deep breath, composing himself. He cannot open himself, his emotions, to anyone. Even these people. No matter that he might want to. He turns toward the front window again to find Jennifer Blackard. The woman, however, has moved and is now standing behind him.
"No work today, Detective?" Carlos asks.
"I took the day off," she replies. The SFPD detective stands on her toes, pulling herself up to the height of the man in front of her, and places a soft kiss on his cheek.
"I thought . . . after our phone conversation, I didn't think –"
"I know who you are, Sam," Jennifer tells him. "And I know what you are, Sam," she continues, grabbing his hand inside hers as she leads him to the breakfast table.
"It doesn't matter," she looks back and tells him.
"It should," he counters, his eyes piercing.
"I know," she agrees. "But it doesn't."
"Well said," Richard Castle offers almost as a toast as he pulls the chair out for Kate. Everyone sits, five people on very different sides, at the same table.
"Let's eat," Castle smiles. Four smiles return to him as plates are passed and new stories begin.
.
A/N: Thus ends this particular tale of our favorite couple on the west coast. They have made new friends, some benign and some quite dangerous. And Richard Castle now steps into his 'new normal'. A world where he could – at any moment – drop unconscious. I thought about wrapping this up with a nice tidy bow and a happier ending. But – I admit – my recent past influenced this story greatly. I had cancer. I don't have cancer anymore. I am ever grateful to God and my wife and kids and a host of friends who stood in the gap for me. GeekMom is certainly one of them. She knows how important she is to me. But with my gratitude is a humbling reality. I live with a urine bag that I will keep for the rest of my life. I don't say this to ask for pity – just an admission that some battles we face leave scars. Some are permanent, some are temporary. But battles leave scars. So, I wanted Richard Castle to walk into future stories with his own scar from his battle. It will make for some interesting developments and stories ahead. I hope you will join me for those. Until then, God bless all of you.