Castle 1. Chapter 1

"We need to finish filling out the reports before we can leave," Beckett told Castle as they walked down the hall of the 12th precinct. They had just wrapped up a particularly difficult case, so they were in a good mood.

Castle groaned. "Ugh. Do we really have to?" He took her by the hand and led her into a nearby supply closet. He shut the door and they were plunged into complete darkness.

"Hmm, I guess we can put it off until tomorrow," Kate said as he began to kiss her. He gently pushed her up against the wall and started nuzzling her neck. She shuddered as he worked his way up to her ear, her cheek, then to her lips. She was leaning up against the wall, feeling his hot breath on her skin.

"I'm so glad we're moving in together," Castle muttered.

Kate smiled. "I know. The new house is so great."

When they had decided to move in together, Castle knew that he didn't want to continue living in the same loft as his mother. He also did not want to have to tell her to find a new place. So, he signed his apartment over to Martha and bought a refurbished 1950s firehouse one street over. During the week, he had helped Kate move her things into the new place, and vice versa. Today would be the first day they would actually be staying there.

"We really should get back to work," Kate said in between kisses.

"Later," said Castle, biting her ear. He playfully slid a hand under her shirt and held her by the waist. He felt her tense at his touch, but then relax again. She arched her back towards him and they were completely pressed up against each other. You couldn't have slid a pin between them if you tried.

All of a sudden, the closet was filled with bright light. They jumped apart in surprise. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust. Thank God, it was only Esposito, and not Gates.

"Javi," Kate said casually, straightening her shirt.

Esposito nodded to her, but turned to Castle. "I need to talk to you."

Castle glanced at Beckett. "Um, sure," he agreed. He followed Esposito into an empty conference room.

Castle perched himself on top of the desk. "What's up?"

Espo shut the door behind him and crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating. "Look, Bro. I know that you and Beckett are moving in together and I thought it was about time we had a talk."

Castle cocked his head to one side, "You mean the sex talk? I think it's a little late for that, I've already been there-"

"-No, Bro. Beckett's like my little sister. And since she doesn't have any brothers, it's my job to say this." Esposito said. He turned serious. "If you hurt her," he said, leaning over Castle, glaring, "I will hunt you down…" he placed a finger on Castle's chest. "And I will kick your sorry ass."

Castle stared up at him, suppressing a smile. Then, he broke into a laugh.

Still glaring at him, Espo smacked the side of his head. "It's not funny."

Immediately, Castle stopped laughing and looked solemn. "Sorry. Sir."

"It's okay, bro. But I'm serious, Beckett's my little sister, and I won't let a wise-ass writerboy break her heart. If you do, I'll break you. Understand?" He crossed his arms.

Castle nodded quickly. "Yes. I understand."

"Good," said Espo. "Come here, bro," he said, back to his usual joking self, "bring it in."

Esposito and Castle exchanged a manly bro-hug.

Espo grinned excitedly. "How was I bro? Was I intimidating enough? Were you scared of me?"

"Oh, so intimidating! I almost wet myself, I was so scared!" said Castle a bit sarcastically. "One day, you're going to scare the hell out of your daughter's homecoming date."

Esposito smiled proudly.

They left the conference room and headed over to Beckett's desk where she was filling out paperwork. She looked up. "Hey guys. Where did you two go?" She gave them both a questioning look.

Espo slapped Castle's back. "Just having a little one-on-one chat with your boy here. He's all clear, Beckett, you can move in together."

Beckett furrowed her brow. "Um, thanks for giving us permission, Espo." She stood up and turned to Castle. "Are you ready to go?"

"Oh, definitely, let's get outta here," he said. He helped her into her coat.

"Cya, Espo," Beckett said as they walked out.

"Later," said Esposito. He grabbed Castle's shoulder and whispered, "Remember, bro, I'll be watching."

Castle nodded. "Right."


	2. Chapter 2

"That's the last box," Rick told Kate, gesturing to the box in the corner of his old office.

Kate strode over to it and bent over to pick it up. She let out a groan as she lifted it. "Jesus, Castle, what is in this?"

"Encyclopedias," he said. "Here, trade me. My box has pillows in it."

They switched boxes they were holding. Castle swore as the weight was transferred over to him. The box hit the wood floors with a loud thud. "That thing is heavy." He put his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Kate gave him a pitying look and gave him back the box of pillows. She picked the encyclopedias up and walked out into the living room. "Try to keep up, Castle," she called over her shoulder.

Castle was still trying to catch his breath. "Be there in a minute."

Martha emerged from the kitchen bearing a foil-covered dish. "Katherine," she said, "I've baked you a pie as a little housewarming present. Oh, I'm just so happy for you two," Martha gushed.

Kate took the pie. "Thank you, Martha, this looks delicious!"

Castle entered the room, his forehead glistening with sweat.

"Look, Rick, your mother's baked us a pie for our new house!" Kate said sweetly, turning to him.

"Thanks, Mother, you shouldn't have!" Castle said, hugging Martha.

Martha laid a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Visit often, alright?"

"Yes, of course we will," said Kate, giving Martha a kiss on the cheek.

Castle picked up the box of pillows. "Bye, Mother, I love you."

"Sure, Rick," said Kate as they left the loft, "I'll carry the encyclopedias and the pie."

He took the pie from her and immediately dropped it in the trashcan. "Mother needs to accept that she can't cook," he said.

Kate smiled and planted a kiss on Rick's lips.

"I love you," he said. They walked down to the lobby and put the boxes in the back of the Ferrari. "Can I drive?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," she said.

His eyes got wide. "Who are you?!"

She laughed. "Get it, jackass, before I change my mind."


	3. Chapter 3

Kate and Rick opened the door to their new home. The sign on the window read, "NYFD New York Fire Department, 1951."

The first floor where the fire engines used to park had high ceilings. Rick had beautiful cherry wood floors put in place of the previously cement ground. Where florescent lights used to hang, there was a crystal chandelier that bathed the room in a warm yellow glow. They had a new fireplace installed into the old brick walls. Their living room furniture was scattered about the room, covered in bubble wrap and tape. There were iron stairs along the sides of the hangar that led to a loft above where the kitchen and dining room were located. The living quarters were on the third floor.

"Welcome home, Kate," Rick said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

They headed upstairs to the loft. There were brand new chrome appliances in the kitchen and a small sitting area next to the dining room. Best of all, there was a huge window with a spectacular view of the city.

When they first saw the fire house during a showing, Rick had told Kate, "This is where we would put our dining table, right in front of the window. And when we're eating pancakes and s'morelettes, the morning light will pour into the room and illuminate your beautiful face and make your eyes look green; the color green that you only see on lovely spring afternoons before the first dew."

"That sounds wonderful," she had said, "just not the s'morelette part."

They walked over to the fire pole in the middle of the room that dropped to the first floor. Rick wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Nice! Now I won't need to have a pole installed for parties."

Kate turned to face him. "This place is wonderful, Rick." She intertwined her hands in his. His hands were warm and his embrace made her feel safe from the world. 'This is what true love feels like', she thought.

He rested his forehead against hers. "You know," he muttered, "we should really break that pole in."

"Really?" she kissed him. "That could be fun."

He pulled her in for a slow, deep kiss. He ran his fingers through her long wavy hair as she started to undo the buttons on his shirt. He kissed her neck and pushed her up against the wall, sliding his hand under her shirt. There was a surprisingly loud thump as she hit the wall and he heard a loud crack.

He looked up just in time to see the ceiling cave in.

Kate screamed as Rick pushed her out of the way of the debris. He threw his arms above his head to protect himself. Wood beams and plaster fell from above. White powder flew everywhere and clouded their vision.

He coughed and waved the powder from his face. When the dust settled, Rick assessed the damage. His face fell as he saw what was lying on top of the rubble. It was the decaying body of an old man, it had been rotting for at least a year.

"Rick," Kate whispered, "look," she pointed to the hole in the ceiling.

She covered her mouth with her hands to keep from screaming.

There were sets of arms and legs dangling from the hole, at least a dozen people were hidden in the ceiling of their new home.

Castle stared down at the bodies. "I think we should have gotten a discount on this place."


	4. Chapter 4

When NYPD arrived, Kate was on edge. 'Why do things like this happen wherever I go?' she thought bitterly. 'First the murder at the Hamptons, now this.' She chewed her thumb nervously as uniforms bagged the bodies and forensics examined the area.

Rick finished speaking to a detective and walked over to her. "Hey," he said, "are you okay?" He tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

She crossed her arms across her chest, "I'm fine," she said quietly, looking away.

"No you're not," Rick said, rubbing her arms. He took her chin in his hands to regain her attention. "You have that look in your eyes." He hated how Kate never told him anything unless he prodded her to. He wished that she would just tell him when something was bothering her.

The corner of Kate's mouth twitched. "It's just-," her voice cracked, "why do these things seem to happen wherever I go? Even when I'm not working, things like this happen." She gestured to the crime scene in their dining room.

"Trouble finds you, Kate," Rick said, "You don't go looking for it. Life happens, and for you, more interesting things happen than most people."

She squinted up at him. "This isn't *interesting*, Castle. What if one day, we have a family, and these things keep happening to us? We can't raise a family around *this*."

As she said it, more bodies fell from the ceiling.

Rick was glad that Kate had told him what was bothering her. "It won't. It's just a coincidence."

"Or karma," she muttered.

"Do you want to figure out what happened with these murders, or should we leave it to the other detectives?" asked Rick, knowing that solving a case would make Kate feel better.

She grinned. "Let's solve this." She took his hand, and together they went to work.

"What do we have, Lanie?" Kate asked her friend.

Lanie was bent over one of the many bodies taking samples. "No bullet or knife wounds, and there don't seem to be any signs of poisoning. Tests show that they've been here for about thirteen months."

"Is it the same case for all of them?"

"Yes. No telling what the murder weapon was, but all of them seem to have some sort of bruising, probably from a struggle, but not the cause of death."

Ryan came down the steps holding an envelope. "Hey, guys, you'd better see this."

Beckett and Castle followed him to the third floor.

"Oh, God, did you find more bodies?" Kate asked.

"Thankfully, no," said Ryan. "How many floors are there in here?"

"Three," said Castle, "why?"

"On your contract, it does say that there are three floors," Ryan walked over to the far wall, "but look." He grabbed a spot on the wall that they hadn't noticed before. He pulled and revealed a hidden staircase.

"Another floor, not marked on the papers, which means-"

"Someone didn't want us to know about it," Beckett interjected.

"Come on," Ryan said, heading up the stairs.

The stairs were steep and covered in dust and cobwebs.

"Footprints," Castle noticed on the floor. "Are those yours?" he asked Ryan.

"No," said Ryan, "I was waiting for you guys to come up here."

"Someone's been here recently," said Beckett. "Look," she said, pointing to the ground, "whoever was here was dragging something up." There was an area next to the footprints that was free of dust.

They reached the top of the stairs. Immediately, a pungent odor reached their senses. They all covered their faces.

"God," Castle gasped, "Ryan, do you need a laxative?"

Ryan glared at him. "Very funny, Castle, real mature."

"I'm thinking that there might be more bodies here," said Beckett.

What was more, all around them, covering the walls were words; written sloppily in black paint.

The words covered the entire room, wrapped all around them like a noose.

They rotated slowly clockwise to read it.

"The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled - but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong."

"Is this the killer's motives?" Ryan asked when they had finished reading.

"Amontillado," muttered Castle under his breath.

"What?" Ryan asked.

"The Cask of Amontillado," Beckett answered for him. "Edgar Allan Poe."

Castle was still transfixed on the words. "It's a story about a man named Montressor who gets his friend, Fortunato drunk so he can lure him down to the catacombs."

"What happens?" asked Ryan.

"Montressor chains Fortunato and walls him up inside the cellar. He leaves him to die there," Castle nearly whispers. His eyes scan the room, landing on a white brick wall next to him.

Beckett catches on. "Get the dogs in here, check the walls." She whips around, reading the words again. "This is the work of a serial killer."


	5. Chapter 5

The police dogs paced the room, noses to the floor. When one of them reached the brick wall, it started barking.

"Over here," Beckett called to the others. "We need to get this wall down."

Two uniforms came in, bearing sledgehammers. They began hacking at the wall.

"Hurry!" Beckett urged them.

"Why the rush?" Castle asked.

"See those fresh footprints in the dust?" she pointed to the floor. "They are *very* recent prints. That means that whoever was dragged in here might still be alive. And he's trapped in that wall."

"Oh my God," one of the uniforms breathed.

They had finished tearing down the wall. And behind it, as Beckett had predicted, was a man chained to the wall by his hands. He was pale and thin, his eyes closed. Beckett hurried over to him and put her two fingers to his neck. She gasped, "He's still alive!" She turned to Ryan. "Get EMTs in here now!"

In a matter of minutes, they had the man on a gurney and lifted in an ambulance.

"I need him alive, got it? He's my only witness," Beckett instructed the EMT.

Lanie approached them. "I found something else." She took them to the third floor. In the middle of the room, she knelt down and pointed to the wood floor.

This time, the words were written in tiny, cramped writing.

"It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever."

"The Tell Tale Heart," Castle said. "No, this is really bad."

Lanie eyed him questioningly. "Why?"

"Lanie, you're going to need a clean-up crew for this one," Beckett told her. She watched as her friend hurried away to get backup.

Esposito walked up to them. "What's this about?"

"The Tell Tale Heart," Castle began, "a maniac stalks an old man with a glass eye. He watches him every night and works up the nerve to kill him. When he does, he cuts him up and hides the parts in his floorboards."

Espo turned to Beckett. "Say what now?"

Beckett explained. "We think that the killer was basing his murders off of the works of Edgar Allan Poe. We found a man walled up in the attic; the words from the Cask of Amontillado written in the room. Now we've found a quote from the Tell Tale Heart on the floors, and I'll bet you anything that we'll find body parts under here."

"But that doesn't explain the bodies in the ceiling," said Castle. "What story is that?"

Beckett thought for a moment. "The Black Cat?"

Castle shook his head. "No, that would be in the walls."

"The Murders in the Rue Morgue?"

Again, Castle shook his head. "It would be in the chimney."

They stood in silence for a minute.

"Premature Burial!" they said in unison.

"It makes sense!" said Castle. "There were no signs on their bodies of how they died because they were buried alive in the ceilings!"

"And the bruises are from them fighting to get out!" Beckett finished.

Castle's face fell. "This is a serial killer; he wouldn't stop with three stories. He would finish the job before he left." He glanced around the house.

Beckett's eyes grew wide in horror. "He would want to honor all of the stories."

Castle locked eyes with her. "Which means that somewhere in this house, there is a body representing every story."


	6. Chapter 6

Beckett paced the floor of the precinct. She stopped to stand in front of the murder board. The number of victim photos kept rising every hour when they would find a new body.

"Okay," she said to Castle as she uncapped the marker, "Let's list the stories and location the body would be found. Once we find all of them, we can figure out how the deaths are connected and who the killer is."

She wrote 'Tell Tale Heart' and 'floors' next to each other, 'Cask of Amontillado' and 'walls', 'Premature Burial' and 'ceilings.' She turned to face Castle. "What else?"

He was leaning up against Beckett's desk, his chin cupped in his hand. "I don't like this case, Kate. I think we should leave it to the others to solve it."

"Why?" Beckett capped the marker and sat down next to him.

Castle shook his head. "It just feels wrong. I mean, it happened in our house."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Remember at the Hamptons when that man stumbled into your pool? You *had* to figure it out, or it would keep nagging you. How is this different?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I can't explain it, Kate. Maybe it's because it's our first home together. It just sucks, y'know?"

Kate took his hand in hers. "I know, that's why we have to solve this. So we can move on."

"I promise that the next house I buy, I'll make sure a serial killer didn't own it before us."

"You'd better," said Kate, standing up and going back to the murder board.

"So, what other stories do you know of?" She asked.

When they finished an hour later, they had 18 stories and 18 possible hiding places for bodies.

They sent the new information to the uniforms still at their house. "We have a new lead on the killer," said Esposito over the phone. "We found that the words 'Nevermore' was written in blood in your basement."

"Great," Castle muttered sarcastically.

"We can get a partial print from it. We also think that the blood that it's written in was the writer's because it doesn't match any of the victims'," said Espo.

"Send the prints and blood sample over to Lanie to get a suspect," Beckett said, "good job, Javi."

"Writing 'Nevermore' in your own blood… that's dedication," Castle said.

"And I thought *you* were a Poe freak because you changed your middle name to 'Edgar'," Beckett teased.

"That kind of dedication is almost… cult-like," said Castle.

"You're right. But we don't know if it was a cult unless we find other 'Nevermore' signs."

"Maybe some of the murderers we've already caught have been part of the cult, we just didn't realize it," said Castle. "Can we go back to old crime scenes? Not all of them, just the ones that seemed shifty and the motive wasn't known. If we find more 'Nevermore' signs around them, we can prove that it was a cult."

"Most of them would have been noticed or washed away by now, Castle."

"Hm, that's true," Castle resigned.

Beckett's phone rang. "Beckett. Hey, Ryan, what's up? Good, we'll be right over."

Beckett put her jacket on. "Ryan says that the Amontillado guy is awake. We're going to the hospital."


	7. Chapter 7

Beckett examined the victim's file as she and Castle waited for the hospital elevator. "John Fortunato, age 83. He was a librarian at the Performing Arts High School of Manhattan. No criminal record."

"Fortunato… that's the name of the victim from the original story!" Castle realized.

Beckett closed the file.

"Do you think that could be the only link between the murders? Their names?" he asked.

Beckett shrugged. "Possibly. We're talking about a serial killer here; there might not even be any links."

"I don't believe in coincidences. There's no way that this guy's last name just happens to be Fortunato and has nothing to do with it," said Castle as the elevator doors slid open.

"Some of Poe's stories didn't give their characters a name. Like in the Tell Tale Heart, they have no name, you just know that the narrator is the killer and that he's insane. And Hop-Frog? C'mon, no one's name is Hop-Frog!" Beckett exclaimed. They both stepped out of the elevator and headed to room C804.

"Maybe it's not just their names that connect them to the story, maybe it's something else. Maybe the ones that they found above the chandelier looked like orangutans because of the King's men in Hop Frog!" Castle reasoned.

Beckett stopped him in front of C804. "Wait, what did you just say? There was a King in Hop Frog that was burned in the chandelier. It's not the main character's name that is connected, it's the name of the one who dies."

Castle understood. "And the man that was found above our chandelier… his last name was King!"

"Maybe names were all that the killer was looking for," Beckett said. She turned the handle on the door and entered the hospital room. "John Fortunato?" Beckett called. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD." She pushed back the curtain in front of the bed. "Oh no."

Fortunato sat on his hospital bed, his eyes wide and mouth open. There was a long knife in his back. Blood spread around him, dripping onto the sterile-white tiled floor. The word, "Nevermore", written in blood on the wall behind him.

Beckett turned to a nurse passing by. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," she flashed her badge. "I need to see your surveillance system."

Minutes later, Beckett was typing away at the computer. They were in a tiny closet-like room with monitors all around them. "All right, look for the eighth floor," Beckett said, scanning the screens.

"There, those are all floor eight," Castle pointed to a row of monitors to his left. "Okay, C804 is in wing C, room 4, on the eighth floor."

"Found it," said Beckett, "I'm going to set footage back an hour, that blood hadn't soaked through the mattress yet, so it couldn't have been over an hour ago." She slowly sped up the tape, carefully watching door 804. When the footage was over, three people had gone in: a doctor and two nurses.

"That's it?" Castle asked, rubbing his eyelids.

Beckett sighed. "I'll play it again." She scrolled back an hour again.

They watched it through. "Stop!" Castle said as the doctor went in. "That's him! That's our killer." The doctor had on blue scrubs and a surgical mask. "Play for one more second, then zoom in."

Just as the "doctor" was entering the room, he removed the mask. Beckett zoomed in on his face.

She frowned. "It's-"

Castle raised an eyebrow. "Edgar Allan Poe."


	8. Chapter 8

Beckett squinted at the screen. "It's obviously *not* Poe, he's been dead for a long time, Castle."

"Or is he?" Castle proposed. The man on the screen was a spitting image of Poe. Same mustache, caterpillar eyebrows, and hairstyle. He even had a long black tailcoat on under the scrubs.

She gave him an 'it's not funny' look. "Yes, Castle, Edgar Allan Poe is dead. This is just some guy who looks like him. I'm going to send this to the precinct to do face-match."

Castle sat back in his chair. "This guy shouldn't be too hard to find. All we have to do is ask people if they know a guy that looks like Poe."

"I just got a message back from Ryan," said Beckett, reading her phone, "They've got a match. His name is Edgar Allan Po, age 36."

"I KNEW it!" Castle said, standing up and punching the air in triumph.

"Calm down, Richard Edgar Castle. It's 'Po' with no 'E'," said Beckett, happy to burst his bubble.

Castle grimaced and sat back down, grumbling to himself. "I was close."

"Apparently, he changed his middle name in honor of his idol, Poe," said Beckett glancing at him. "Hmm sounds familiar."

Castle wrinkled his nose.

"What's more, he does a one-man play in the Central Park of The Raven, where he portrays Poe. That explains why he looks like him. He went to Performing Arts High School of Manhattan to study theater. That's where Fortunato worked! So may Po had other connections to his victims besides their names."

"We should check into the relationships he had with the others," said Castle.

Beckett was already dialing her phone. "Hey, Ryan. Do you know what the connection was between King and Po? I'll fill you in later. Okay, thanks." She hung up. "Ryan says that King was Po's boss, so these definitely weren't random occurances."

"Anything about a cult?" Castle asked, intrigued.

"Not specifically, but he does belong to a club called the Poesers that studies the works of Poe," said Beckett.

Castle scoffed. "Poesers. It sounds like 'posers'."

Beckett nodded.

"Oh! *Poesers*, posers! That makes sense because they 'pose' as Poe! It's a pun!"

"Took you long enough to figure out," said Beckett, collecting her papers. "Come on, Castle, we're going to Central Park."

"Oooh, excellent, I love The Raven," Castle said excitedly.

Beckett reached for the doorknob. "You won't like it when we find the words 'Nevermore' written over your deathbed."

All around them, there were tourists. Taking pictures of *everything*. Birds, buildings, performers, hobos.

"What is it with tourists at this park?" Castle said. "They reek of desperation. Don't they have parks where they live?"

A young female tourist approached them. "Oh. My. God!" she screeched. "Aren't you Richard Castle?"

Castle put on a cocky grin. "Why yes, yes I am," he said in a suave voice.

"You're right, they do reek of desperation," muttered Beckett out of the corner of her mouth.

The tourist turned to her. "OhmyGod! It's Nikki Heat!" She started jumping up and down. "It's Nikki Heat, it's NIKKI HEAT. I LOVE you. You're so much prettier than the Nikki Heat in the movie."

Beckett glanced at Castle who gave her an approving look. "Um, actually my name's Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD."

"OhmyGod, I can't believe I'm meeting you two! Jameson Rook AND Nikki Heat! Can I take your picture for my blog?" the tourist whipped out her phone.

"Sure," said Castle, fixing his hair.

"Uh, no," said Beckett, "we're looking for a guy who looks like Edgar Allan Poe. Have you seen him performing around here?"

"Oh, yeah, totally, that guy is awesome. He can quote The Raven all the way through," she said.

"Well where is he?" asked Beckett.

"He's doing a performance near the south fountain," said the tourist. "Are you sure I can't take your picture?"

Castle and the girl gave her the puppy dog eyes. "Oh, fine," she agreed.

After they posed for a photo, they hurried over to the south fountain.

"How did you like your first taste of stardom?" Castle asked as they ran.

"All I can say is that I can see where you got your ego," said Beckett, rolling her eyes.

There was a huge crowd gathered around the fountain. Beckett drew her gun from the inside of her leather jacket and pushed her way to the front. The people around them glared at her as she parted the crowd. On the edge of the fountain stood the killer, Edgar Allan Po, a stuffed raven perched on his left arm.

"-Quote the raven, Nevermore!" Po finished his dialogue. The crowd applauded.

"NYPD, freeze, Po!" Beckett yelled, pointing her gun at him.

Castle laughed. "'Freeze, Po.'" He mimicked.

"Edgar Allan Po, you're under arrest for 18 counts of premeditated murder," said Beckett.

"Is this part of the show? I don't remember this part of the story," the crowd muttered.

Po looked down at them, his face was emotionless. He knew he was trapped.

"Nevermore," he declared as he drew the pistol.

"NO!" Beckett screamed as Po brought the gun to his head and fired.


	9. Chapter 9

The crowd was in a frenzy, running about, unsure of what to do.

Beckett rushed to Po's side, checking his neck and wrist for a pulse. She pressed her ear to his chest, trying to hear a subtle beat. She plugged his nose and began giving him CPR. "Call 911," she instructed Castle.

"It's no use," Castle said gently, "you can't save him."

Beckett whipped around to face him. "Yes, I can!" She went back to pumping Po's chest.

"Hey!" a tourist shouted at her. "What kinda cop are you?! How could you let that happen?"

"Yeah!" other people joined in.

Beckett sat back on her knees and looked up at them. She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Castle turned to the man who had started the yelling and punched him in the face. He could feel the crack of the man's nose under his knuckles.

"The hell!" the guy grunted, holding his bleeding nose. "That's police brutality!"

"I'm not a cop," Castle stated. He offered Beckett his hand and helped her to her feet.

"Thanks," she said.

"Always," said Castle. He brushed a tear away from her cheek.

Beckett stared at Poe's body. His left hand was resting in the fountain. "I could have saved him."

"You can't save everyone, Kate," Castle said, "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but sometimes you just can't control things."

She forced a smile. "At least we got that maniac off the streets."

"That's right," said Castle, hugging her. "Hopefully the rest of the Poesers aren't as serious about it as this guy was."

They heard a siren approaching. A parade of police cars and ambulances coasted into the park. Behind them followed a black Cadillac. Gates, Ryan, and Esposito got out of the car.

"You two attract trouble like a moth to a light," said Gates, pointing an accusatory finger at Castle.

"Hey, we caught the killer, there was nothing we could do," said Castle, putting his hands up in surrender.

"What was the motive?" Ryan asked.

"He was just a crazy guy obsessed with the works of Poe. He took the stories literally and turned into a serial killer," said Beckett.

Esposito was examining the body. "Why did he kill himself?"

"He was as good as dead as it was," said Gates, "he would have gotten the death penalty and he wanted to die on his own terms."

"That's right," said Castle. "And it was the perfect way to end his story."

"What do you mean?" asked Ryan.

"Edgar Allan Poe killed himself," said Beckett. "He lived like Poe and he was going to die like Poe."

"Whoa," breathed Espo, "heavy."

"Well," concluded Gates, "good work, detectives and… Castle." She turned on her heels and stalked off.

Castle put his arm around Kate. "Well, it looks like we're going to have to find a new house to live in."

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure half of the house got knocked down trying to recover bodies."

"Shame," said Castle. "Since we had our own house, I was going to suggest getting a puppy. Y'know, as a practice kid."

Kate adjusted the collar of his shirt. "Maybe we still can my old building let me have pets. What would we name it?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I don't know. I was thinking 'Caskett' sounded like a cute name."

"We'll see."


End file.

Castle, Crime, Mystery