Title: Just Like Heaven

Author: The Sun Was In My Eyes

Disclaimer: Castle does not belong to me. If only. Also, I don't own the movie of the same name as this. Well, I do own the movie. Just not the idea. And the blatant similarities.

A/N: This is my 2nd attempt at a Castle. I was watching Just Like Heaven and thought it would be pretty cool to see what would happen if the characters that I love in Castle were in a similar situation. That sort of gives it away but I hope you enjoy none-the-less.

Just Like Heaven

Kate took a drink from her NYPD coffee mug, grimaced at the horrible taste of precinct coffee, before she pushed up from her desk and walked over to the murder board. She stared at the happy smile of a young girl that had been taken from her family far too soon. The man who had brutalized her before murdering her was now in jail awaiting trial.

And that wasn't enough.

Her team had closed the case. The evidence had led them to the murderer and the case against him solid. Kate's job was done. This young girl's family could try and move on, and they could try and forget for a little while that their daughter was gone forever. But at least they knew that the man responsible was behind bars.

Some people didn't get even that.

Kate knew what that could do to a person, she knew what it had done to her, what it was still doing to her. She was living half a life.

Murder was her life.

This job was her life. It was something she could control and if there was one thing Kate Beckett needed it was control.

She narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and, satisfied with a case well done, finally reached up and began removing the pictures and the evidence from the murder board.

"Yo Beckett," Esposito called out from the vicinity of his desk and Kate turned to give him her attention. "We got the guy," he reminded her grinning and Kate frowned.

"Yeah Beckett," Ryan said as he came out of the break room. "You're allowed to smile now," he tried to tease and Kate stared into his blue eyes, filled with amusement, but also friendship. As much as she had tried to push them away, Ryan and Esposito were her teammates.

And she appreciated them.

Because she appreciated them both she smiled slightly and nodded. Kate held back a yawn and continued putting away the pieces that had made up a young girl's life and death. It was almost disheartening that it could all fit in a single box. Even more disheartening to know that her own life would barely fill a folder.

"Go home Beckett," Ryan said with a smile and took the box from her as she lay the last picture inside.

Esposito came to stand at his side. "Captain told us to go home after we got everything sorted, and to stay away tomorrow unless a body drops," he paused and shot Ryan a look. "We'll call you Beckett."

"Right," she nodded again at first Ryan, and then Esposito, but inside she was frowning. She didn't want the day off. She wanted another case. She needed another case. Kate needed to bring another family justice.

Ryan and Esposito walked away with the evidence box.

Kate followed orders and went home.

Her apartment was quiet and empty when she stepped through her door. She liked it that way. Twisting the locks in place, Kate tossed her keys onto the counter and toed off her heels. She scrubbed a hand down her face, pressed play on her answering machine, and then dropped onto her couch.

The first message was from a telemarketer and Kate groaned. Why did they feel the need to leave a message? It's not as if she was going to call them back just to let them try and sell her something ridiculous. The next message was from her father:

"Hey Katie, it's Dad," Kate smiled fondly, wondering if she should remind him that after more than thirty years she was quite certain to recognize his voice over the phone. "I was calling to see if we are still on for dinner tomorrow night. Love you, "he finished and there was click signaling the end of a call.

"Hey girl," Lanie's voice was her next message and Kate smiled. "We need to have a girl's night soon. I'll hit up you're cell."

There was another telemarketer, and finally a message from her landlord explaining that he would need another week before he could fix her leaky faucet. Kate pursed her lips, turned to stare at the kitchen sink as it dripped and decided she could fix it herself tomorrow. Her father taught her to be self-sufficient and to curse at the plumbing. Maybe she could finagle him into doing it tomorrow.

Deciding to do just that, Kate walked into her bedroom to finally get some well needed sleep. For the first time in what seemed like weeks she was able to sleep through the night.

The next morning Kate let out a breath and pulled herself up and over the steel bar, let her arms drop, and then came up again. As she pulled herself over the bar again her phone rang. She glanced over, annoyed, and thought for a moment about letting it go to voice mail. Deciding against it she dropped to the floor, grabbed her phone, and then dropped onto her couch.

A quick look at the unrecognizable number, Kate determined there hadn't been a body drop and answered with a terse, "Beckett."

A man's deep voice questioned her greeting. "Detective Beckett?"

"Yeah."

"This is John Raglan," at his name Kate sat forward. "I was the lead investigator on your mother's homicide twelve years ago." He explained unnecessarily.

"I remember you Detective Raglan," she told him shortly, wondering why he was calling after so many years.

"Listen I," he began and drew a breath, "We need to talk about your mother's case." Kate's brow furrowed but she waited for him to continue. "There's something you don't know." Kate frowned. "There's a coffee shop at 4th and Main," Raglan continued knowing she would come. "Meet me there in an hour."

Another pause.

"Just you. No cops," the last word was bitter as he hung up. Kate sat there a moment wondering what the lead investigator of her mom's homicide had hidden from her all of these years.

Of course she would meet with him.

She couldn't not meet with him, but she worried what this would do to her. She wondered how far she was about to fall into that rabbit hole again and wished for a moment she had someone to traverse this edge with her. She wished for someone who understood her need to know, someone who knew when to push her, and when to pull her back. Kate wished she had someone to stand with her.

Instead, an hour later, she walked into the coffee shop alone and took a seat across from Raglan. When the waitress stepped over to them with a coffee pot, Kate waved her off and the waitress turned to Raglan. "More coffee?"

He held out his mug and murmured "thank you," as the women poured him some more warm coffee and then walked away. Kate stared at him, waiting for him to begin, and when he didn't she narrowed her eyes and spoke.

"Tell me what I don't know about my Mom's murder."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Raglan stared down at the cup. "Everybody drinks their coffee out of card board cups these days," he began and Kate kept her face blank. "Or those plastic travel mugs, but there's something about the way ceramic warms your hands that…" he trailed off and chuckled. "It's weird," he told her with a smile. "The things you notice," the man explained, but Kate was even more confused and impatient.

Raglan must have noticed because he continued his explanation without being prompted. "I just got the long face from the doc," he told her. "Lymphoma. Six months."

"Sorry to hear about that," Kate said, and tried not to make it sound as if it was just something one said when they found out a stranger had cancer. She knew she didn't pull it off. Kate knew she couldn't pull off the sincere tone and hoped he didn't expect more from her.

He stared at her a moment, looked down into his coffee again. "Every year around the holidays they run that Christmas Carol on the local TV. When I was a kid, I remember Jacob Marley scared the Hell out of me. Forced to drag that chain around in the next world."

Kate thought for a moment, kept her face blank, but knew where he was going and quoted the character. "I wear the chain I forged in life."

Looking up at her, Raglan nodded, and forcefully finished the quote. "I made it link by link."

He was silent for another moment. Kate watched as he took another sip of coffee.

"I hid a lot of sins behind my badge. And now I gotta carry em. But your mother's case, that one weighs a ton."

Leaning forward Kate couldn't keep the hostility out of her voice. "Why? Because you wrote it off as random gang violence when you knew it wasn't."

He slammed his coffee cup down with a clatter. "I did what I was told. And I kept quiet because I was afraid." Kate could hear the fear in his voice even now and knew at once that he was only willing to tell her the truth because he was dying.

"There was a case about a year ago. A man named Jack Coonan was murdered. The killer was a hit man code named: Rathborne."

Kate didn't question his knowledge of her case. "And I realized too late Rathborne was the victim's brother Dick Coonan. He was already in the wind. I can't find him."

"But you've been looking," Raglan pointed out and it was clear that he didn't think it was a good idea. "People noticed."

"Who hired Coonan to kill my mom?"

"You need some context here," he stated matter of fact and began to fill in some of the background. "This thing started about nineteen years ago back before I even knew who Johanna Beckett was. Nineteen years ago I made a bad mistake and that started the dominoes falling."

Raglan picked up his cup of coffee again and cradling it, continued, his voice hoarse and full of sorrow and shame. "And one of them was your mom."

There was crack and the mug in Raglan's hand shattered. Kate tried to reach for her weapon as he slumped and fell out of the booth and onto the floor, but she couldn't move. Her chest ached and her breath hitched. The burning sensation in her chest, like fire, overwhelmed her and then suddenly she was cold. So cold.

And then there was nothing.

Richard Castle looked around the apartment and grimaced at the ornate decorations. He wasn't what one would call artistically inclined when it came to interior design, but he also wasn't color blind. The only explanation was that a rainbow had thrown up in the living room. Still, he walked into the bedroom, and stretched out on the bed.

Glowering he rolled over and tried to find any sort of comfort among the pillows.

He looked up as his real estate agent walked into the room hopefully and shook his head.

The second place was better. If by better he meant absolutely plain and grey. His real estate agent tried to convince him that modern was in. Castle walked past the uncomfortable couch, not hopeful at all about the bed, but determined to see for himself.

His back ached just lying on the hard mattress for a mere second. "No good."

Wanda sighed. He couldn't help it if people didn't know how to live.

Walking into another apartment in the city two hours later Castle frowned and pointed out, "I thought I asked for only furnished apartments?"

She lifted her arm, motioning towards the blocks that were supposed to pass as furniture and he walked out the front door without another word.

"Maybe if you told me what you were looking for Richard," Wanda complained as they stepped out of the complex and out on the sidewalk. Castle ignored her and looked around.

Wanda sighed and followed him as he began to walk down the street. "I mean, if you gave me a reason that your loft isn't working I could add that to the criteria. If I knew something about your family or what you were really looking for…" she trailed off when she realized Richard Castle was not even pretending to listen to her. A piece of litter crumpled against her thigh and with a huff she knocked the paper flier off of her leg. The breeze blew it into his face.

Snatching the flier out of the air, Castle began to crumple it for the trashcan when the print caught his eye: an apartment for rent. He looked across the street at the nice looking complex the flier advertised and handed the sheet of paper to Wanda as he crossed the street without looking.

"A place like this won't be available still Richard." She tried to tell him as she navigated around cars, and sighed as he continued on. "All right, fine, I'll call them to verify."

They entered the vacant apartment and Castle took in the spacious but comfortable living area. The steps up to a door were littered with books, and his eyebrows shot up in pleasure as he noticed the various authors.

The kitchen was small but nice.

The couch looked comfortable, and Castle thought that boded well for the bed. He made his way into the bedroom and almost sighed in relief at the big box spring covered in fluffy down comforters.

He was exhausted.

"Well I found out why this place hasn't been snatched up," Wanda began, coming into the room as he continued to stare at the bed.

"Why?"

"It's only a month by month sublet."

Castle frowned and turned to her. "Why?"

Wanda shrugged, "Some kind of family matter. They were pretty closed mouth about it," she told him and Castle flopped down and onto the bed. He felt as though the bed embraced him. Comforted, and tired for the first time in what seemed like years, he closed his eyes.

"It's a good bed."

"Good bed?" Wanda was confused.

"I like the bed."

"The bed."

"Good bed," Castle said again and rolled, smashing his face into the pillow.

"You like the bed," she repeated with a smile, recognizing that they'd finally found a place that satisfied him. Her job was finally, thankfully, done.

After three hours of sleep he'd desperately needed, Castle walked over to the now stocked refrigerator. Opening the door he stared at his selection, and finally chose a beer instead of the scotch. He shut the door, then changed his mind, opened it again and grabbed the scotch too.

Looking around, he decided the couch was good enough for the time being and dropped down onto it. Slamming the decanter of scotch down onto the coffee table, he twisted the cap off of his beer and swallowed half of the contents.

The remote control for the television in hand, he twisted to look at the TV and aimlessly flipped through the channels. Finding nothing of interest, Castle finished off his beer, and stood to get another. The background noise from the TV added to his restlessness, but he left the device on as he wondered the apartment. There was a story to this edgy, eclectic place. It had been someone's home, but for whatever reason, was no longer.

Castle sighed and pulled open some drawers, too curious not to snoop.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in my apartment?" An angry, huskily feminine and sexy enough to give him goose bumps, even though he was startled, voice had Castle slamming one of the drawers closed. He twisted around and stared at one of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Even as angry as she was, or maybe because of it, she seemed to have this vibrancy about her. He wanted to know her story.

He had to know it.

But then he realized what she had said.

"Excuse me?"

She took a step toward him. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment?"

"Your apartment?"

"That's what I said."

And all of a sudden Castle was angry as well. Had they rented it out to both of them?

"There's nothing worth stealing in that drawer," she drawled at the still open junk drawer in her kitchen when he continued to stare at her. Castle closed his mouth and slammed it closed.

"Take it easy," she tried to reason, frowning at his treatment of her furniture. "No money. No drugs," she continued and Castle frowned at her.

"I'm not stealing anything!"

"Look, there's a homeless shelter I can take you to, if you like. I can also give you some cash, but please don't blow it on more beer."

Castle growled as she walked around the island in the kitchen and stared at him. "How about I get you a burger instead?" she reasoned, not wanting to give him the means to fuel his alcohol dependency.

"Look lady, this is my apartment. I rented it."

"Since when?" She asked, confused.

"Since today," he bit out. "I'm not homeless," Castle muttered. "You know what, I don't need this!" He grumbled and walked over to grab his coat.

"What?"

"Rent scam. I rented this place for at least a month, but I don't need this. I bet there are others that think they rented this place just like you."

"And moved in all of their things?" She asked, a little amused, but still upset.

"What?"

"This is my stuff. This is my kitchen," she lifted her arm and then moved into the next room. "That's my couch and my coffee table," she grimaced at the scotch. "That's my TV and my elephant figurines."

"Elephants?"

"And what, have you never heard of a trash can?" she asked as she frowned down at the empty bag of chips he didn't remember eating.

"Of course I," Castle began and was cut off immediately as a thought came to her suddenly.

"You better not have touched anything in my bedroom," she growled and walked in the direction of her room. "You slept in my bed?" She called out, aggravated, as she crossed through the doorway. Castle followed her, slightly abashed when he realized it must have been her perfume that lingered on the pillows. It must have been her scent that soothed him into sleep.

But when he walked into the bedroom she was gone.