Hey guys, I wrote this after watching that final scene in 'Always' about a gazillion times! Nathan and Stana did such an amazing job conveying their emotions, especially Stana. This is what I imagine was running through Beckett's head, from the time the door opens to the time it closes, and beyond. It's my first fanfic, so please be gentle with me. ;)

From the moment the door swung open, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face. His face. It had been seared in her mind since the roof. She'd hung from her fingertips, and she'd known she was going to die. Known, looking down into nothing but emptiness and up into nothing but emptiness, that she'd destroyed everything she cared about the most. She'd seen only him. Heard only him. Thought only of him, and the last time she saw him. His expression. His voice. His love. His heart-breaking sadness and utter exhaustion. His eyes, wet, weary, wrenching away from her unrelenting stare as he let her go. Truly let her go.

"This is over. I'm done."

And now she was here, and it wasn't over, and it wasn't done, and she was looking into those eyes again, and all she wanted was to lose herself there, here, with him, in him. All she wanted was to erase the pain shining out of them, demolish the hardness which she'd put there.

"Beckett, what do you want?"

His voice was cold, jaw set. It was time for her to fix this. It was past time for her to fix this. A million thoughts, words, ideas flared through her mind. His question hung in the air, waiting. God, he was still waiting. She breathed. There was only one thing to say. One answer to give.

"You."

She let it all go in that moment. Everything. The pain, the fury, the hate that had driven her for so long. There wasn't a place for these things anymore. They couldn't exist together with him, and so they couldn't exist. Because she had chosen. It was him. It had always been him.

She sensed his retreat, knew that he was trying to put distance between them. But there was no way she was stopping. No way she could stop. That one word had loosed something inside of her, and there was no going back. She closed the distance, destroyed it utterly and completely, and she was home.

His skin was hot, burning. The cold which had seeped into every pore of her body was swept away instantly, and then she was burning, too. Her hands gripped his face, her lips sparked on his, and she gasped air desperately as her entire body ignited at the touch of him.

She felt his breath catch, his heart stutter, felt all of him tighten and recoil, freeze up, as if she'd stolen his fire and replaced it with ice. He needed more. He needed so much more than just this. They both did.

She pulled away slowly, reluctantly, acknowledging the need, but absolutely refusing to relinquish her hold on him. Hands dropped from cheeks to shoulders, legs rocked back slightly from toes to heels, lips retreated the merest of inches, but her body remained with his, where it belonged, and her damp forehead found a place against his furrowed brow, feeling the pure uncertainty there, wanting nothing more than to dissolve it.

"I'm so sorry, Castle," she whispered quietly, eyes closed, pulling desperately from her other senses: the feel of his shirt, the sound of his breathing, the smell of his skin, the taste of him. "I'm so sorry." She was aware of everything, every tiny twinge of his muscles, every exhalation teasing her lips, every miniscule sensation.

"I'm so sorry." And she was. She'd never felt an emotion so strongly before, never wished to undo something so completely, never experienced more regret for her actions than she did in that moment. She rocked forward again, knowing she shouldn't, but unable to keep herself from the agonizing nearness of him. She'd never wanted as she wanted now. Her fingertips danced lightly up his neck, back to his face, gliding over his skin, reveling in the warmth she found there, her lips pursuing his urgently.

He tensed against her, gripping her arms with hot hands, forcing her back, away, creating again the distance she'd shattered moments before.

She didn't fight him, surrendered to the force of his push, her eyes opening, meeting his, then dipping in acknowledgement of his decision. It wasn't a gentle push. But it wasn't harsh either. It was exactly what he was: confused, heated, knowing that he deserved more than the pure physicality of what she was currently offering.

His blue eyes glanced away, slipping in the pain, and then returned to search hers. She gazed back, feeling the tears trail slowly down her cheeks, open to him in a way she'd never been before. Whatever he was looking for, he would get it. And whatever he needed, she'd give. Entirely. Anything. Always. It was her turn to live up to their promise.

"What happened?" he asked, voice rough, eyes hooded.

She answered immediately, giving him the whole truth, no longer hiding or protecting any part of herself. She was his, as he was hers. His to see, his to know, his to accept. His to love. Broken pieces, jagged edges, razed walls. All of it.

"He got away...and I didn't care." She looked at him calmly, her eyes quiet, honest. It was strange how peaceful she felt. She should be terrified, panicked, desperate. She should be trembling with adrenaline, shock, doubt. But he was with her now, and she was with him, and this moment was incredibly…still.

"I almost died..."

An unsought smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she briefly broke eye contact. She'd forgotten Maddox almost before he left her there on the roof, his parting words fading dully into the background as she clung desperately to the rough concrete and realized in complete shock that the seething rage upon which she had fueled her whole existence, the smoldering need for answers on which she'd based her entire adult life, had just been snuffed out. Extinguished without the barest hint of smoke.

Only to be replaced by a conflagration the likes of which she had never experienced, an inferno which burned cleaner and brighter than anything she'd ever dared to hope for. Him. She returned her eyes to his.

"…and all I could think about was you."

The memory of that moment rekindled something inside her, blistering through the logic and the necessity of words and blazing up with a force she wasn't sure either of them was prepared for. But she couldn't stop it. God, she didn't want to.

"I just want you."

Her eyes flicked across every line of his face, thirsty and parched, drinking him in, then dropped to his mouth. The sheer need, the hunger, was overwhelming. Her lids slammed shut, immediately aware of the heat radiating out from him, licking across her skin, flaming down, over, under, in, triggering every nerve.

All she wanted was him.

Her lips parted and her entire body pulled towards him, aching, seeking. But his hands still gripped her wrists tightly, arms locked, and he made no move to meet her.

And in that space of time, her world tilted, dangerously close to the edge. Her heart froze, the internal fire suspended. Her eyes fluttered open, her mouth drifted closed, and her fingers gripped against him, anything and everything, tight and painful, holding the weight of it all in their grasp, balanced on the tips, and she didn't know, didn't know if she could hang on...

She flashed back to the roof.

Castle…

Her eyes focused on him, his face shrouded in an expression she could not read. Her hand moved slowly, tentatively, and in that moment she was genuinely afraid of what would happen. Of his reaction to her touch. She hesitated…then slid her fingers gently over his lips.

Thunder burst, lightning lit his features, and the look in his eyes…

Suddenly, she was against the door, felt it give way briefly beneath her weight, heard it slam closed behind her as he followed in her wake, distance burnt to ash as every part of his body scorched a fiery path to hers. And then, she, he, they…

…were aflame.

Thank you so much for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)