A/N: That's what the spring hiatus did to me - I decided to write some angst)).

This story was started a while ago, but I eventually made it a sort of pre-ep for "Veritas", which I'm very eager to see. Hope you like it

Special thanks go to CKRose, my awesome beta. Thank you veeery much for your help and support.

Disclaimer: Marlowe is a genious.

It was getting worse. His hands were sweaty, muscles aching and his heart was thumping wildly in his chest. He felt nauseous, and his writer's imagination definitely didn't help, his mind buzzing with all the horrible thoughts and "what if" scenarios. It was too much. And it was getting worse.

Fear. It was fear, liquified and icy cold, gradually filling his veins. It started in the pit of his stomach, the moment he realized she was late. Again. Now the fear was creeping up into his fingertips, causing them to tremble and itch, wanting desperately to take action.

She was late again, and she wasn't answering her cell. It could be nothing. Nothing, because she was having her "girls' night" with Lanie and they could've just lost track of time, talking about everything and everybody, including their men. They were at a bar, and the music in such places could get so loud it would be hard to hear yourself think, let alone hear a phone ring.

Yes, he could call Lanie, just to be sure, to calm himself down, and silence his rattling nerves. But he didn't want her to think that he didn't trust her, or that his worry was out of control. So he went on waiting. And hated himself for it. It was so déjà vu.

She could come across some drunken idiots at the bar. She could get into a car accident. She could just fall from her enormously high heels and break her leg. It could be Bracken and she could be already…

"Stop it! You are ridiculous!" The words came from deep despair, an explosion of all the thoughts, overwhelming him. It echoed off the living-room walls, bringing him back to his senses. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his breath. He was done waiting.

He couldn't bear this anymore. He picked up his phone from the coffee table and speed-dialed Lanie's number.

She was late and Lanie didn't know where she was. They had exchanged their good-byes in front of the bar, before setting off in different directions in two different cabs. That was at 10:30. She should have been home an hour already.

It was one of those moments, when he needed to do something, but didn't know what to do. He had to find her and had no idea where to start. No way in hell was he giving up. Not until she was safe at home, and he knew for sure she was alright. He grabbed his car keys and went through the front door, stopping to get a jacket on his way out, but never bothering to change out of his sweats and tee.

He rushed along the corridor towards the elevator, mentally making the list of the people he would call, as soon as he got into the car. But then he saw something that made the floor under his feet feel like quicksand.

"Kate!"

It was like that night in the woods, all over again. She was on her knees, right in front of the elevator doors. Hands clenched in tight fists, her nails piercing the skin of her palms, face ashen, pale, covered in a smudgy mixture of her make-up and tears. She stared at him, transfixed, her dilated pupils almost completely swallowing the green in her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, soundlessly, her lower jaw quivering, as if she was trying to say something, but couldn't. Her face was shrouded in nothing, but fear. Deep, irrational, almost animalistic, the reflection of his own feelings, now churning his insides.

He was at her side in no time, desperate to hold her, to feel her there and alive in his arms.

"Oh, thank God!" he whispered into the crook of her neck, his arms encasing her in a firm embrace. He pulled back slightly, enough to look at her and softly touched her cheek with the pads of his fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

And she broke. Into tears and violent sobs, clinging to him, like a little child, seeking protection or a person without any hope left. She wept, wailed and moaned, clutching at his forearms with such force, he was sure to have bruises in the morning. But he didn't care. He simply waited, patiently, silently. Because she needed this. Needed to cry her fear out, wrench it out of her soul, wipe whatever had happened to her from her mind.

He didn't know how long they had been there. But as soon as her weeping subsided into soft hiccups, he took her hand, helped her off the floor and took her back into the loft and into their bedroom. He helped her get seated comfortably on their bed, and then proceeded to the bathroom. Nothing would help her more than warm and relaxing water.

Once the bath tub was full, he added drops of lavender oil into it and came back to her. He undressed her, gently and cautiously, then took her hand again and led her to the bathroom. She didn't say a word, just gave his hand a slight squeeze. "Thank you. Love you."

He knelt at the tub, watching over her, while she was decompressing. He didn't ask her anything, not yet, even though he ached to know what had happened. All the questions could wait at least until the morning. Even longer, if that was what she wanted. What he wanted at the moment was this – just to be there and whisper soothing nonsense to her. The events of the day, the new story twists from Raging Heat and all the other stories that came into his mind, whenever he looked at or thought about her.

When they eventually got into the bed, Kate seemed much more relaxed, yet still lost in thoughts. It wasn't fear anymore, Castle was sure of it. She looked disturbed, concerned about something. As if she was making a choice.

He woke up to her heavy breathing and low whimpers. She was having a nightmare.

"No! No! Don't! Castle, get away from there now! Rick!"

"Kate" he whispered, gently patting her shoulder. "Wake up, it's just a dream! Kate!"

She finally opened her eyes and shook her head, trying to gather her surroundings.

"Rick…"

Castle hugged her, but pulled away at once, feeling her shake, as if with cold. He got up to fetch her something warm from the linen closet, but she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to her.

"Kate, you're shivering. I'm going to get you one more blanket."

She wouldn't let go. Her eyes were pleading, even screaming for help.

"Rick, please" She croaked "Don't – Don't leave me. Stay with me."

"I'm right here, Kate" he whispered back, leaning in for a soft kiss.

All at once, the world around them was spinning. It turned into a whirlpool of blurry colors and random sounds, coming from the street. It was warm and soothing, a fragile little bubble of their own, shielding them from all the worries and miseries outside.

Previously that evening

"Kate!"

She was already getting into the cab, but turned around, to see what else her freshly appointed maid of honor had to say.

"You are finally happy, aren't you?"

Kate said nothing, just smirked contentedly and jerked her shoulders slightly, a non-verbal message to her friend, meaning "I know, right?"

Oh, God, yes – she was happy. Though happy wasn't a strong enough word. She felt complete, grounded; she was living a life, that couldn't feel more right than it did. It didn't mean that everything was perfect, no.

Sometimes they were incredibly imperfect and absolutely out of all the kinds of normal, but – could their relationship ever be considered normal? No, he still could be a childish annoying jackass and she still had the remnants of her walls to deal with. Yet they fit together - and in more ways, than one. They were like two pieces of one puzzle, or rather a bunch of random puzzle pieces each, which made sense only in one set.

She was still in her love haze, when she went through the lobby. May be, that was why she didn't give a second thought to the unusually quiet doorman, who just nodded, instead of greeting her out loud.

It happened out of the blue. She was just going to step into the elevator, when a rather large and strong hand hit her on the back, forcing her inside. Her knees buckled and she almost crushed on the floor, the air rushing out of her lungs.

Something, that could be nothing, but a gunpoint, pressed painfully between her ribs, just as a voice, that didn't even sound like a human one, spoke.

"Not a move, if you value your life, Detective."

She was used to words like those, as well as being at the wrong side of a gun. It was the voice she heard, that sent some chills furling down her spine, quickly spreading through every single bit of her and making her freeze on the spot.

It could belong to a beast, a horror movie monster, but not to the man, whose hot breath she now felt on her neck. A weird cacophony of snake-like hisses and almost metallic screeches, it made her heart clench and suddenly she was left alone in the world, small and vulnerable.

She felt the elevator move and come to an abrupt halt. He must have pushed the emergency stop button.

The shrill ringing of her phone startled her out of her trance, sounding even louder in the limited space of the elevator. She jerked her hand instinctively, reaching for the device in her jeans pocket, but –

"Aaargh!" – she groaned with sudden pain, scorching the skin of her scalp, just as the leather-clad hand of her captor yanked her hair with such a force, she thought he would wrench it out.

"Not so fast Detective. You've been warned." the voice hissed in her ear. "There will be no next time."

"What the hell do you want from me? Who are you?" She demanded through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you don't need to know, who I am." He coughed, or was it a chuckle? "I'm here just to deliver a message. What a shame! I'm capable of sooo much more."

His hand finally let go of her hair and slid down her neck, curling around her throat, making her wince and shudder in disgust. She didn't know what to expect of him. She wasn't able to predict the actions of someone, who had proved to be that unpredictable. How had he sneaked past the ever watchful doorman, considering his not so subtle form and manners? Why hadn't he killed her right away, left her alone in some other place, where her body would be much harder to find? What was the message he was talking about? How did he know her? And why was his voice making her soul shrink with fear? She didn't know. And she hated that not knowing. She hated having to fight it alone.

His fingers suddenly clenched around her throat, squeezing her windpipe, like a piece of rubber. She was choking and wheezing and clutching at his arms, strangling her. Her blood was pounding in her ears, muffling the merciless laughter of her torturer. Her mind was fuzzy, her sense of reality violated by the flashbacks of the night she'd rather forget. Her lungs were desperately screaming for air, burning, as if pierced by thousands of needles. She could feel icy water streaming down her throat and all over her body. And the fingers, now digging into her flesh, belonged to Vulcan Simmons, as well as the voice, echoing in her ears, saying again and again "Tell me, what I want to know!"

And just like before, the only thing that kept her from breaking, from giving in, was the name, reverberating in every single one of her heartbeats.

Castle. Castle. Castle.

She slowly came back to her surroundings, finally aware that her breath was back to normal. She was lying face down on the floor, her head pounding like hell, the barrel of a gun nudging at her skull.

"I take it, there is no need to tell you, who is that message from, Detective?"

The voice once again spoke, his owner still careful to stay out of the line of her vision.

"I could see it in your eyes. You know all the happy memories." He laughed at his own joke.

Of course. She could have figured it out before. After all, who else of her enemies would be so variously connected? She opened her mouth to say it out loud, but managed only a low grunt, her throbbing windpipe constricting at her efforts.

"Now, save your breath. I don't need you talking. I just want you to listen."

"Attentively."

The voice sounded much closer now, his breath once again on her neck, so that the words, he spoke in that hissing, snarling whisper, seemed to burn her skin like hot iron.

"The war is not over yet and you are a very decent rival, Detective. You are a real warrior, and we even respect your determination and inner strength. But you are going to lose much more than you can win, if you don't stop now. Think of the people you care about, starting with your precious fiancé. Or his family. Your friends. Your father. Is the truth, you are looking for even worth it?"

He stood up and she felt the elevator move again.

"And you better not break the deal you have, Detective. That is, if you don't want to deal with the consequences.

The elevator doors slid open and he was gone, the sounds of his footsteps almost instantly fading away.

Everything that followed was a blur. She didn't remember herself getting off the floor and out of the elevator, engulfed in a fresh wave of panic, drowning her. Her family was in danger. Castle was in danger, because of her. She couldn't let it happen and she couldn't protect him. She wanted to run and hide, to crawl in some dark corner and forget about everything, even herself.

She wanted to wake up from this nightmare, to be safe in Castle's arms.

"And then you found me" Kate finished, snuggling deeper into his embrace. Castle gently kissed her temple, running his long fingers through her hair. They spent a couple of minutes like that, in total silence, both of them lost in their worries of the future.

"I don't know what to do, Castle" Kate whispered.

"When I started looking into my mom's murder, it seemed the most important thing in my life. The only thing worth living for. And now…"

"And now?" The low rumble of his voice was neither pushing, nor impatient. Just leading her thoughts in the right direction.

"Now I'm just scared. I'm not sure, if I want this truth anymore. I just want this to be over."

"It's a war, Kate. It can't be over, until Bracken is caught. And the truth is not the only thing at stake." Castle reminded her.

"I know. But that doesn't make things easier."

"Nothing is ever easy with us, remember?"

He tried to lighten the mood, as usual.

"Besides, I'm with you. We are doing this together."

He will never leave her alone. It's been decided a while ago.

"It's too dangerous to be with me these days, Rick"

She needed him. But she also needed him safe.

"Well, it's not like dangerous is something new for me, don't you think?"

She said nothing. Just closed her eyes, and tightened her arms around his waist. There were still too many questions. They still didn't know where to look for the answers.

But they were doing it together.

Thanks everybody for reading. Writing this was not easy, but still - really pleasant. Any thoughts on this?

If you still find any typos, or inconsistences blame it all on me))

And Happy Castle Monday, to everybody!