Disclaimer: Tis'nt mine…
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Ever since he was young, Richard Castle would have nightmares about the people he loved getting hurt. In every single one, no matter how little and naïve he was when he had them, he would watch helplessly as they slipped away.
When he was a child, they would predominately be about his mother. Occasionally, one would sneak in about a mystery man he assumed to be his father. As he got into his teens, many still included his mother, but close friends started to make their way into them, also.
The more time that passed, the more intrigued he became with the dreams. Why these people, why these deaths? It became a way for him to escape from the horrors of the dreams. He'd have a small notebook by his bed at all times, and whenever he woke up in a cold sweat from the fear of the dreams, he'd pull out the book and write. Write about why, how, and always be sure to end the dream. Although the people he loved would still die in the ways he wrote, the images wouldn't haunt him so, wouldn't come back to him at odd times.
It wasn't long until he found he could use the ideas and themes his dreams gave him and apply them to fictional characters.
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By the time he started seeing the deaths of Kyra Blaine in his dreams, he realized the common denominator in the nightmares. Everyone he had, the person dying in front of him was someone he loved.
Soon, he had a daughter of his own, and some of the very most haunting of the nightmares started appearing. Simultaneously, however, some of his best book ideas started popping into his head.
…
He'd never told anybody of these nightmares. Not since he would run to his mother in the middle of the night when he'd wake up from them when he was very small.
People would ask where he got his infatuation with murder and death. He'd blow it off as just something he became interested in.
Then, he met Kate Beckett.
Sure, from the first few months he shadowed her, he knew he liked her. But, nothing more.
Then, the night after her apartment exploded, he dreamt she was out getting a suspect. He trailed behind her, as always. However, as soon as they entered the apartment, shots rang out. She fell to the floor into a crumpled heap, red quickly blossoming from her chest. He dropped to her knees beside her and held her close, trying to keep calm…for her sake. But he knew it was no good.
When he woke up, his fear was doubled, even tripled than what he normally felt after these types of dreams. He could guess a few reasons why...
1) Most dreams he would have would be unrealistic. Although still scary as hell at the time, he would be able to talk himself out of the possibility once he was conscious again. This time, it was just too plausible of a situation.
2) Unless this one time was some sort of strange exception, the dream proved the one thing he had been trying to deny for a while.
He was in love with Kate Beckett.
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A/N: O.o …anyone wanna know a secret? I strongly dislike this… :/ But…I majorly missed writing…like a lot. It makes me very sad :(
But I'm HORRIBLE at coming up with ideas! So I just wrote…and this came out. And I donlikeit…like… very much so. Haha, I'm even putting it on my other fanfic account that I made for fics I'm not so sure about…cuz on my other account…I have legitimately good fics…this one…theres nothing on it yet…but I made it for not so good ones.
Long story short…you all have no idea how much a review on this would mean…I'm feeling…not so great about it…haha
Change my mind? :)