Hi everyone! So this is my rather unorigional take on 4x07, Cops and Robbers! It's basically guesses based on the photos, promos, seak peak (which is AMAZING, by the way!), and summary.

**I LOVE reviews! I'm just trying to get better at writing, so if you think my stories crap, let me know and why you think that! Thanks!**

When the building blows, Kate jumps. She shouldn't, really. Having been a cop, you learn not to jump, because the time spent shying at a noise, object, or person could mean the end of you. But this time, the deep, echoing crash that splits through the air has too much loss coming with it.

Kate remembers a time long ago, back when her mother was still alive. She was fifteen, moody, and frequently complaining. So, one weekend that was spent at her family's cabin in the country was not a pleasant one. Kate had always hated the country; she thrived in the busy roads, loud, constant noise, and flashing lights of New York City. That crisp, sunny fall morning, Kate, her mother, and her father were out in the woods with some family friends going horseback riding. This was not how Kate had planned on spending the weekend, but her parents had insisted that she come along. They were walking down a wooded trail, when Kate heard the traffic approaching. Just then, there was the loud, abrupt crack of a car backfiring. The equine underneath her tossed its head up, and bolted forward. Kate felt herself lurched backwards. As instructed before getting on the horse, she turned the horse to the left, stopping its blind panic.

"Great job, Kate! You OK?" Susan, an older woman, asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied, mostly to reassure herself. She felt a wonderful feeling of accomplishment, despite the momentary fright.

"You know, the funny thing is, that horse there has heard that noise a thousand times, but he still spooks sometimes when he hears it. Horses, they have this weird way of thinking. They react now, think later. And at that moment, when he hears that noise, all he can do is think that he's going to die right at that moment, and flee. Horses aren't fighters, they're runners. Us humans feel that too, sometimes. When somebody hides, then shouts at you, you jump, no matter how many times they do it. You can only fight instinct to a certain point."

And now, over fifteen years later, that's all Kate can think about. Because no matter how many times her life or someone she cares about is in danger, she can't help but jump, and then try to decide whether to fight or run.

However, she recovers immediately, as the soot and ash starts floating down from the sky. It looks like a blizzard; it's almost quiet and serene. But in reality, it's not. Because Castle's in there. He'd be courageously leading the hostages, doing what he had to, trying his hardest to keep everyone safe. They already knew that Castle had lost one, maybe two, and now, with the explosion, Castle himself might be gone. The idea slams down on her, and her eyes widen as she realizes the possibilities, the ones she doesn't want to deal with.

Now, cops, firemen, and paramedics alike are shoving past her, running into the building. She glances back towards Alexis, who has a look of horror plastered on her face. The distraught teen is trying to duck under the police barricades, but is being pushed back into the crowd by a heavy officer. Kate knows what it's like to lose a parent, she knows how it messes you up, and she knows she can't let that happen to Alexis. She has a promise to Castle to keep.

Kate turns, and ducks under the police tape. Thanks to her navy FDNY shirt, she isn't stopped.

She jumps over the shattered front windows of the bank. She doesn't know where the robbers are, but based on the knowledge she's managed to gather over her time as a cop, they're either dead or long gone.

Inside, the bank is a mess. Dust and plaster makes her eyes burn. She's inhaling it, and now is heaving dry, rough coughs as her body struggles to remove the choking particles from her lungs. Using one hand, she clutches her white undershirt to her nose, using it to filter the air. It helps, but her throat and lungs still have millions of needles stabbing into them. She pulls her flash light out of her pocket with her right hand, and starts carefully walking through the destroyed bank. There's debris everywhere, and blood too. Any of it could be Castle's blood. Castle could be buried anywhere. What was she thinking, running into the building when she had no idea where he was? She considers joining the paramedics struggling to carry an injured man out of the destroyed building. It's disgusting, really, that she's willing to wander through the ruins of a building, trying to find a man she doesn't even know is alive. There are plenty of emergency workers that needs help caring for the wounded, but all she can think about is the man she lo-, she cares about, her partner. Richard Castle, father, son, friend, partner. So, she leaves the others, and pushes towards the place she last had contact with him: his banker's office.

As she nears the office, Kate spots Martha being led out of the building by an emergency worker. Her red hair appears grey from the all the soot, and there are several small cuts and blooming bruises scattered across her face. She's protesting, pulling back, and pointing somewhere behind her.

"Martha!" Kate cries as she runs towards the older woman.

"Oh, my God, Kate!" Martha wraps her arms around Kate. It's comforting, a brief moment of peace in the middle of hell.

"Where's Castle?" Kate half asks, half begs as she pulls away from the hug.

"I don't know!" Martha replies, her voice threatening to break. "They… they t-took him into the office, I haven't seen him since. You have to find him!" Her voice starts weak, but increases in strength as she continues on.

"Martha, I need you to go with the medics, Alexis is outside. I'll find Castle." The actress begins to protest, but Kate cuts her off before she can continue. "I promise. I'll find him. I'll be back in a minute."

To that, Martha Rogers just nods. Kate has already turned around, and is running as fast as she can towards to office. It isn't far away, but it takes her almost a minute to cross an area not much longer than the precinct. Desks and tables have been overturned and flung around the room, and beams are lying on the ground. There's a thick layer of concrete and marble that Kate must carefully tread over. When she finally makes it to the office, what she sees takes her breath away.

The roof has caved in, and steel poles lay scattered around the room. There's rubble covering the entire floor, and glass has scattered everywhere. There are burn marks along the one cinder-block wall, which is only half standing. The other half of the wall seems to have exploded into the office and large chunks the size of yoga balls are scattered throughout the room. Several large, wooden book shelves and filing cabinets that were standing next to the wall have collapsed into on the room, crushing everything.

Her heart breaks. No one could have survived this. He couldn't have survived this. Castle's strong, and he'd made it through a lot, but this? How could he survive flying cinder blocks, a 1,500 pound bookshelf landing on him, collapsing pipes, and fire? It simply isn't possible. Either he's dead, or he's buried somewhere else in the bank.

And she has no idea where. She feels so helpless, and she hates it. If only her gun, her badge, her vest could offer any aid in a situation like this. But they can't. All she can do is search and hope. She can't seem to hope without searching herself, and yet, if she searches, she feels like all hope will slowly drain away. She's about to leave the office, when she sees it.

The desk is sitting in the middle of the office. Debris is piled up almost all the way to the top, yet there it stands, covered in soot but in one piece. A safe haven in the middle of the destruction. She carefully makes her way towards it. Upon closer inspection, she realizes that it's much like her desk at the 12th. It's made of wood, with steel reinforcements. Not the prettiest thing, but durable. Very durable. It's kind of a joke between her and Castle.

"Here's your coffee." He had greeted cheerfully as a set down a cardboard cup from his usual coffee shop. Kate had picked it up, uttering her thanks, and was about to drink it when she noticed a phone number scrawled on the cup.

"Castle, what's this?" She demanded, turning the coffee cup to show him.

"Oh, that? It's a cop that just transferred here into narcotic's phone number." He explained, unembarrassed. "She must have written that when I asked her to hold my coffee for me while I signed her book. She was kind of like a … precinct desk."

Beckett raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, plain… but strong, someone who can take just about anything." He'd explained.

And now, staring even harder at the desk, Kate realized that there would be a place for the occupant to put their feet, a sheltered, three-sided alcove that someone as intelligent as Castle could use to hide in. She maneuvers around and over the debris with as much speed as she can manage until she reaches the opposite side of the desk. Large chunks of concrete, glass, plaster, and marble have blocked the leg area. So she starts digging. The glass slices large lacerations in her hands, but she ignores the burning pain. The concrete and marble further rip her palms apart, and she knows Gates will have a fit when she learns Kate can't hold a pen for a week or so, but right now, that doesn't matter. She's barely made a dent in the pile of rubble, and already blood is streaming down her arms and covering her hands.

"Rick?" She chokes out. She stops her digging, just for a moment. She hears it.

"Kate." It's his relived sigh that helps her to forget the pain in her hands and keep digging. Less than a minute later, she's almost completely dug him out, except for a large chunk of concrete. She tries to lift it, but with her slashed hands, it's too much.

"Castle? Can you hear me?"

"Yes." It's just one word, but it means the world to her. It means so many things. He's alive, he's here, he's conscious. So much meaning, so much hope, behind what Castle had always explained was a boring, over-used word.

"Good. On the count of three, I need you to push this block of concrete." She explained. "I'll move it out of the way, I just need some help."

"Okay." He agreed.

"Ready?" Kate tightened her grip on the large, concrete obstacle. Already her hands were burning, but she forced them to hold even tighter. "One, two, three!" Instantly, she knew this would work. She felt the rock being pushed towards her, and used all of her remaining strength to push it towards her right, away from the entrance to inside the desk. As soon as she was certain the concrete would stay away from them, she looked back to face Castle.

He was staring at her wide-eyed. His hair was covered in soot and sparkling from the fragments of glass. There were several abrasions on his face, none too deep, but appeared painful, none the less. His right eye was already greenish-blue around the edges, and she knew he would have a bad black eye tomorrow. His clothes were torn and dirty, revealing some more cuts along his back, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. His eyes never left hers.

"My hands-"he started, but Kate had already pulled her pocket knife, a gift from her father on her thirteenth birthday, from her pants pocket. She guided his shoulders so that she could reach his hands, which were bound together with rope. She tenderly grasped one of his hands in hers, and began sawing until the last strands of the ropes broke, setting his hands free. She then helped guide him out of the foot space of the desk, and looked up to face him.

Upon meeting his blue eyes, it all became too much. She threw her arms around him, finding comfort in the warmth and familiarity. All of the pressure that had built up over the course of the day was released, and the relief was instantaneous. Castle carefully wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close. They stayed like that for a while, before she pulled away to face him, planning on addressing the wounds on his face. But his expression made it clear that it was the emotional wounds, not the physical ones, that would take longer to heal.

She couldn't quite explain how she knew when he had broken. Maybe it was the way his shoulders slumped, or the slight widening of his eyes. Perhaps it was the catch in his breath paired with the deep exhale that followed that.

"Shhh… Rick, it's okay. Everybody's safe, everybody's alive." She whispered as she pulled him close, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder. Her own tears were starting to fall now, because it almost wasn't okay. Today could have ended very differently, and not everybody would have been alive. She started swaying gently from side to side, and felt his tears soaking her t-shirt. Before she could stop herself, her own tears were staining the back of his shirt.

This was one of the few moments of weakness that she'd ever seen come from Richard Castle. He was strong physically; he had proved that when he managed to carry her out of the hangar the night she learned of Montgomery's involvement in her mother's murder. But he was also strong in a way that she was not. He managed to keep his head, be the voice of reason when the situation was difficult. He always knew what to say, what to do, and what had to be done. But, right now, crying on her shoulder, he displayed a new kind of strength. He was able to show weakness. And she lo- admired him even more for it. It was a strength that she wishes she had. Maybe if she was able to show weakness, to be vulnerable, she could finally get that wall down, but right now, Kate just didn't know how to do that.

Castle pulled away slowly, rubbed his hands across his face, and took a deep breath.

"You okay?" Kate asked.

"Yeah. I just… I just need to get out of here." He finally explained.

Kate stood and grasped his hand, helping him up. He looked her in the eyes.

"Thank you." His voice was strong again, and so was hers when she replied.

"Always."