Disclaimer: "Castle" and all its characters belong to the all-powerful Andrew Marlowe and ABC. I, unfortunately, own nothing.


Chapter 1

"I love you, Kate. Kate!" She lies there, motionless, unable to move or speak. Richard Castle tightens the grip he has around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. "I love you, Kate!" He squeezes her trembling body, bringing her bullet-torn chest against his strong, rugged one. She feels his heart beat, and he feels hers. "Stay with me, Kate!" A tear rolls down her cheek and lands on his blood-soaked sleeve. He feels her shallow breath against his lips, her terrified eyes fixed on his deep blue ones. They're pleading, even more than his words, for her to stay alive. For the woman he loves not to leave him alone. And she knows what he's feeling - the pain, the helplessness.. the terror. She lived it. The amount of time she spent screaming and crying into her mother's empty bedroom after her mom was killed... she couldn't bear knowing the love of her life was doing the same thing. And all because of her. But he wouldn't have to. If only she could hold on a bit longer. If only she can keep breathing until the paramedics get here then he could just - she falls still. He feels her racing heart give out as her lifeless body lies hanging in the arms of her "one and done." He keeps screaming; he won't give up. He refuses to let his love die. "Kate! Kate! Wake up, Kate!" The words burn her shattered heart even more than the bullet did when it seared through her fragile chest. Just the thought of his heart being broken is enough to send hers into a panic. Just the thought of him hurting and her being helpless to stop it sends another tear rolling down her blood-spattered cheek. But wait, she realizes, moments later. If I'm... then.. how can I hear-

"Kate! Wake up, Kate!"

Kate's eyes snap open, her body shooting up to a sitting position. Where am I...?

"Kate! Kate! Wake up!"

What the he- Kate scans her bedroom for the source of the shrieking. She peers over the side of her bed, her fuzzy eyes desperately trying to focus on the phone she'd knocked onto the floor. Once her eyes finally clear, she picks it up and finds an incoming call from none other than Rick Castle. She scrambles to answer it before he is disconnected.

"What the hell was that?" she screams into the speaker.

"...Well, good morning to you too, Detective," he retorts, with a slight playfulness to his tone.

"No, what the hell was that terrible ringtone? What did you do, steal my phone and record yourself screaming? Yeah, because who needs an alarm clock when a heart attack can wake you up... Seriously, Castle, that wasn't funny. I thought that I was -" Kate cuts herself off before she accidentally blows one of the many secrets she proves to be keeping from him. Ever since the shooting six months ago, she's been having these nightmares, reliving that moment at Montgomery's funeral when that sniper almost killed her. The dreams have been getting less frequent, but she still doesn't want to tell her team; they've been worried about her enough as it is.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he admits, but the uncontrollable cackling makes the apology about as insincere as it could possibly be.

"Yeah, uh-huh, well you will be, Castle."

"Why, Detective Beckett, is that a threat? You should know better than anyone that-" she interrupts him, knowing far too well where this conversation is going.

"Castle, just shut up," she replies, seemingly annoyed.

He smirks, clearly amused by this whole situation. "...If I don't, will you handcuff me?"

She tries keep the adorable grin out of her voice, but ends up failing about as miserably as he does. "In your dreams, Castle," she remarks.

"I'm counting on that!" It is now when he realizes how thankful he is that they're not in the same room, because he knows she would not hesitate to slap him.

Kate rolls her eyes, still giggling like a third-grader. "Look, Castle, it's-" she glances at the clock she finds upside-down next to her nightstand. "-5:48. Is there a reason you put me in cardiac arrest before the sun rises, or...?"

"Coffee, m'lady?"

She scolds him, trying to appear angry, but the grin that creeps across her face tells him otherwise. "Thanks, Castle," but quickly reminding him, "But don't think this makes up for this morning. I'm still mad at you."

He shoots her that adorable, boyish smile she so strongly adores, and with a twinkle in his eye, replies, "Of course you are."

Side by side, with coffees in hand, they walk past the squad cars and up the brick driveway to where yet another crime scene awaits them. The tended garden equipped with a small, swaying bird feeder creates as much of a "white picket-fence" vibe as one can manage in the city. And the swing-set along the east side of the property causes Beckett's heart to drop into her stomach. Kids, she thinks to herself. She braces herself before walking into the four-bedroom home where Esposito and Ryan are already questioning... the little girl? Sitting on the leather sofa next to a woman who is clearly a social worker, slumps a strawberry-blonde, blue-eyed little girl who appears to be around six. The girl looks up, locking eyes with Beckett. The sadness and confusion plays across the frightened girl's face, sending tears rushing to the detective's eyes. No matter how many cases, she thinks to herself, this never gets any easier. Whenever kids are involved in a case, it always pushes the team to work that much harder to bring those responsible to justice; it drives them. But this feeling... the one that made Kate's stomach turn and heart skip a beat... that's never happened before. There's something different about this kid. She can't quite put her finger on it, but she knows it's there. Lanie's voice drifts down the hallway, interrupting Kate from her thoughts.

"Fourty-six year-old male, caucasian, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen; he bled out," she hears the medical examiner say. As Rick studies the living room, doing whatever it is that he does, Kate makes her way down the hallway toward the parents' room, trying to distance herself from the far too familiar little girl in the family room. Kate was in college when she found herself sitting on her couch next to the officer, being questioned about the last time she saw her mother alive; she can only imagine what a six-year old must be feeling... confused, scared, just wanting her parents to hold her and tell her "everything's gonna be alright." Maybe that's all it is, she thinks to herself, the girl just reminds me of me and Mom. She dismisses the idea and tries to focus on the reason she is here. Upon entering the bloody master bedroom, she can immediately sense the vibe is off. She scans the room like she does every crime scene, trying to get a feel for the family and her surroundings; but, when her eyes meet her friend's, her suspicions are confirmed. The depth of sadness in them is much greater than when Lanie normally stands over a dead body. As Kate's eyes involuntarily dart around the room, as they always do when she thinks, they land on a set of framed pictures, and a look of realization plays across her face. She looks back down at Lanie, who is still on her knees next to the little girl's father, and the M.E. knows she's made the connection.

"Where's the mom?" Kate asks concerned, trying to put her own emotions aside.

Lanie gives her a sympathetic look, filled with both fear and sadness. She stands up so her eyes are level with Kate's and takes a deep breath.

"We can't find her."


Okay, first thing I've ever written in the history of life. Thoughts? :)