A/N: I don't know why this took so long to get out. I had all the plot, but I just couldn't write it. BUT ANYWAY, Chapter Two.

Disclaimer: Castle writers can probably afford to get someone to decorate their house for them. I can't. And I'm still covered in paint.

There have only been two times when Richard Castle can actually remember being speechless. He's had trouble getting words out and they've stuck in his throat, sure. But he's only been completely struck dumb once before, and that was the first time he held Alexis. Now… now there are no words that could at all describe the vista in front of him. Intense blue skies, scorching sunlight, he can feel the heat on his cheeks already. He's stood on the crest of a hill, at the top of a long slope of stony scree that disappears into the fringes of a forest about fifty metres away. Beyond that there's another hill, beyond that more valleys, more hills, more forests. And if he's not mistaken, and he really hopes he isn't because this is so cool, but that's a volcano over there. A real, active, exploding volcano. Well. He says exploding. There's a lot of lava, but that's about it. And he's not in any real danger. He hopes. Maybe he should go back and get Beckett. Not that a bullet is going to do much against lava. He turns around, aiming to go back through the big shiny ball of golden light but finds that he has actually been standing in what would be the blood trail that he'd been following in the first place. The cop part of him (a part he's only really recently discovered) tells him to go and get Beckett. The writer/explorer/big child in him tells for him to follow the trail until either he runs into the source or he loses it. And as cool and as amazing as this place is… he would rather have some form of protection with him, where ever he's going. He takes one last look around and turns on his heel, disappearing back into the mass of light.

He calls out before he actually reappears because he knows Beckett's going to be there and he knows she's going to be aiming her gun at whatever this is and he knows that she is a shoot first ask questions later kind of cop, survival pending. Even more so when it comes to something like this. She's going to be angry at him for even going near this mystical ball of shattered light, but he doesn't mind. He can cope with angry Beckett. He likes angry Beckett. Happy Beckett, flirty Beckett, sexy Beckett, focused Beckett, confused Beckett. The many, many emotions of Beckett that she's taken to show more and more lately. Of course, that means he gets unhappy and broken Kate, too. The times when the heartbroken young woman breaks out of the detective shell and try as she might, she can't hide it. Can't hide the scar at her wrist that he eventually saw and eventually wormed it out of her over a late night Chinese at her desk. He'd managed, somehow, and he applauds himself for this, to get her to agree to getting a spare key made for her apartment so that at least if she needs it that there's someone there. He's pretty sure she regretted it the moment she handed it over though. Not that he cares. She's not getting it back now. The pressure inside his ears lessens and he finds himself stepping out of the light and he's back in New York, staring straight down Beckett's gun. Well, he's staring past the gun and at her and those magical brown eyes that are glaring at him. Yup. Angry Beckett. "Castle, what the hell did you think you were doing?"

"I was following the blood trail! But you have to see this, Kate! It's… I can't describe it, you have to come with me."

It's the breathless child like joy in his voice that has Beckett sort of half contemplating saying yes. "Castle… we don't even know what that is!" she's still got her gun aimed at it, though her gaze has moved to Castle who has stepped away. "Do not think I'm going through it."

"I have! And look, I'm fine! And the blood trail. You can't ignore the blood trail. It's evidence, right?" He steps up to her, all puppy dog eyes and pleading and pouting and damn him. "There's nothing dangerous through there, Beckett. Other than the murderer, obviously. But there's a trail leading straight to them! Easiest case ever, right?"

"Castle, it's a giant ball of I don't even know what and you're seriously suggesting that we go through?"

"To catch the killer, yes. And to see the view."

"The view?"

"Yes! The view! But you have to see it for yourself, seriously." He's got one arm at her elbow, tugging on it slightly. "You won't regret it."

"I regret a lot of stuff with you, Castle." She rolled her eyes and lowered her gun. "Fine. But I swear, if we die, I'm so haunting you."

"Can a ghost haunt another ghost? Is that technically possible?"

"I don't know, but I'll do my damned hardest to try." She frowned at the light in front of her, forehead furrowing in consternation. "Castle, I really don't know about this."

"Beckett, it'll be fine. Trust me, okay?"

She sighed, maybe over-exaggerating her annoyance just the slightest bit. "We really should wait for back-up… at least get Espo and Ryan. We should have more than one gun."

"We'll be fine."

"What, with my gun and your rapier wit? Sure, that's all the ammo we need."

"You're armed, I'm dangerous. Come on, it works."

"Yeah, I don't think you're the kind of dangerous you're talking about." She took a step forward towards the light. "Alright, you first."

"That's a first. Usually it's I'm the cop, Castle. I'm the one with the gun. First through the door, as usual."

She bit down the urge to grab hold of his ear. Infuriating man. "Just walk, Castle."

She didn't question him when he took hold of her hand, but judging by the look he proceeded to give her he expected her to. Instead she raised her lips in the barest hint of a smile and nudged his side with her knuckles. "Go on then."

She didn't expect the sudden pressure that gripped her chest when she stepped through and she gasped, clutching Castle's hand harder. It's not there for long and before it becomes too unbearable it's gone and she's left standing, breathing in air that is so much cleaner and so much fresher than the city that she's momentarily dizzy. Not that the view in front of her helps. Kate let out a breathy "wow", raising the hand that wasn't still wrapped around Castle's fingers to push her hair away from her forehead. "That's…"

"Unbelievable?" Castle offered, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"To put it mildly. But… what the hell just happened?" Castle opened his mouth. "And don't say CIA. Or aliens. Or anything at all remotely connected to a conspiracy theory."

"But-"

"No. We're here for a blood trail. Not sight-seeing." She pointed downwards and left. "That way."

"After you, then."

"No complaints about me going first this time." She smirked, setting off down the slope.

"Well, like you always say. You're the one with the gun. We have no idea what or where this place is. There's a volcano, for heaven's sake. You are more than welcome to give me your gun and let me go first, but you're far too stubborn to ever do that."

"The world will end when I give you a gun."

"You did give me a gun. And I do remember saving your life with it."

"You said yourself that you missed."

"Oh, you're all about the negatives, aren't you." He sighed. "I am quite capable of handling a gun."

"Yeah, that's what scares me."

They followed the trail downwards, heading slowly towards the edges of the forest below them. It mostly resembled a pine forest, and for all he knew that's what it was, but he had no idea where he was and had no way of correctly identifying what kind of tree it was. It smelt vaguely of pine at any rate. The sun was warm against his neck and he envied Kate her long hair covering the back of her neck. That hadn't stopped her peeling off her jacket and draping it over her elbow as they went, mind you. He could tell by the look on her face that she kept wrinkling her nose as she went, something having made her stomach turn. He'd see why moments later, bits of flesh that had caught on stones had started being an occasional occurrence a while back. Neither of them had an idea how long the blood trail had been there and in the baking heat it really was starting to whiff a bit. It took them a lot longer than expected to reach the fringes of the forest, and he could tell that Beckett was getting anxious about getting back to New York and the world that they knew.

"We should have told someone where we were going." She grumbled as she looked back up the hill. "Gates is going to murder us, you know that don't you?"

"Gates always wants to murder us."

"No, she wants to murder you."

"Well, if she does murder me then at least I know I've got you to bring me justice, right?"

"I dunno, I might give it to 11th so I can investigate a proper murder."

"Kate, I am wounded."

"Better not be. I'm not dragging you back up that hill." She looked uneasy at the prospect of going into the forest, which up close looked dark and formidable and all kinds of creepy.

"We could always sing We're Going on a Bear Hunt." Castle suggested, peering over her shoulder. "You know, can't go under it, can't go over it, we'll have to go through it.

Beckett turned her head slightly so she could glare at him sideways. "I am not singing a children's book."

"Oh, come on! It's a classic! We're on an adventure, Kate! Don't make me flutter my eyelashes."

"It's never got you anywhere before, I don't see why it would now." She tightens her grip on her gun, steels her resolve and looks back at Castle. "You ready?"

He's not panicking. Danny Quinn does not give in to panic. It's not the first time he's lost track of Patrick, but it is the first time he's lost track of his long lost brother and not been able find a single footprint or broken twig or a flock of disturbed birds to guide him. And he's not going to panic. The only way he's going to panic (and he means that in the smallest possible way because Danny Quinn doesn't panic) is if he catches sight of an anomaly. And even then he's only going to not panic if there's the slightest hint of humanity. Nope. No panicking done on his side. Panic does not exist in this dojo. He's standing in the middle of a clearing, the world more or less deathly silent around him. Molly is primed and ready in his hand, still crusted with blood after a vicious fight with a pack of Raptors a week before. He has yet to find a place where he can wash it. Where ever he is, it's lacking in water. He's had to keep hydrated by chewing on leaves. He wasn't dehydrated at all, the leaves worked wonders on a dry throat, but he really did need a wash. Sure, it wasn't a shower, but it at least got rid of most of the grub and sweat. And in the stillness of the place, he's not expecting to hear somebody yelling. Or just talking, really loudly. Singing? That's not Patrick. There's two people, one definitely male. He's singing. The other is female. Telling him to shut up. They sound vaguely… American? His knowledge on accents is not what you'd call perfect.

He's running before he's aware, because if there's people, and if there's people then there's an anomaly. The voices are growing louder, something to do with a field of wheat. Wheat? What the bloody hell was this man singing? If he was any louder he was going to bring a dozen or so raptors down on them. And who was going to have to defend them? Oh, yeah. Him. Danny Quinn: Dinosaur fighter. It doesn't take him long to find them, he bursts out from behind a tree, stick at the ready. Of course, he doesn't expect to have a gun pointed at his face. He's been shot before –thanks, Matt- but never with an actual proper gun.

He actually has the gall to push her gun away with his stick. The ginger haired crazy looking caveman actually pushes Beckett's gun away from his face. With a stick. He'd laugh if it wasn't quite so serious. The stick is covered in blood. The man is grimy to the point of being a walking puddle of mud and he smells. Like, literally he stinks to high heaven. He's used to dead people, and the smell of rubbish and decay, but this, this is like the guy hasn't washed in months. It's all he can do not to gag. Beckett, at least, has re-centered her gun and the man in front of him has at least refrained from pushing it away again. And isn't quite threatening to bash her over the head with it. She's got her hand out back towards him, wiggling her fingers and he knowingly plucks her handcuffs from her belt and hands her them.

"Drop the stick, turn around, hands above your head."

The man frowns at her. "What for?"

"You're under arrest on suspicion of murder."

The man opens his mouth. "I'm sorry… what?"

"Drop the stick, turn around, hands above your head, or I will make you." She hissed, taking one step closer to him. "I am not afraid to shoot you."

"Just so you know, the only things I have killed are dinosaurs." He lets the stick fall to his side, but doesn't loosen his grip on it. "I am, or was, a police officer."

Castle leaned forward over Beckett's shoulder. "Look, I don't know you and I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt when you say you've only killed dinosaurs, but you really, really do not want to make her angry. And you really, really are going to make her angry."

"I'm not trying to make anyone angry. I'm just stating the truth. And I'm not crazy, thank you very much. I make a living from killing dinosaurs."

"Dinosaurs are extinct." Beckett replied, eyes narrowed.

The man grinned. Castle sighed. He really was being an idiot. "You have no idea where you are, do you? You just walked through an anomaly and found yourself here."

"An anomaly?"

"You know, the big ball of golden light. That's an anomaly. It leads to different points in time. Either the past, or the future. Right now, you're slap bang in the middle of the Cretaceous. I'm not dangerous. The only way I'm going to hit you with this stick is if you're a raptor in a disguise. And I'd bet you a roast dinner that your murderer isn't human. Let me guess, suspect got ripped apart? Organs missing, dragged off? I'm presuming so, considering the blood trail you're following. But you don't want to go any further. Not unless you want to arrest a hungry pack of dinosaurs. And I don't think even you're tough enough to do that."

"The… Cretaceous."

"Yes."

"The Cretaceous… as in millions of years in the past."

"Yes."

"You're crazy."

"The evidence is all around you! How else do you explain all of this? You're from New York. A city built on concrete. You really think you can just walk through a gate and find this on your back doorstep? How else do you explain the volcanoes? The parrots, the everything."

"It doesn't make sense."

"You're a homicide detective. Since when does anything ever make sense?" He looked at her gun. "Now, are you going to stop pointing that gun at me? I'm not going to attack you. I'm not your killer. You don't need to arrest me."

"You'd be surprised at how many people say that." Beckett replied drily, but she loosened her grip on her weapon, letting it drop to her side. "Alright, give Castle the stick."

"Molly."

"What?"

"The stick. She's called Molly."

"You named your stick…" Castle frowned. "Are you absolutely sure you're not crazy."

"Listen, I have been here for nearly a year and a half. A year and a half with no human contact except the occasional conversation with my brother. He's the crazy one. The one that murders people. Believe me, you start naming things."

"Wait, your brother? Where's he?"

The man shrugged. "I lost sight of him. I'm trailing him to make sure he doesn't go through an anomaly to some place where there are humans. He likes to cause havoc. I don't suppose you've seen him, have you? Dark hair, curly, down to his shoulders. Resembles a tramp."

"Beckett…"

Beckett sighed, reaching for her phone. "Yeah, we've seen him. He's our victim." She passed her phone across to him, and he took it examining the photo carefully. "Is that him?"

"Yeah. That's Patrick." He ran a hand over his face. "I guess that's it, then."

"Guess what's it?"

"I'm only here because I needed to keep an eye on him. He's dead. I can go back to England, go back the Arc and live a life with hot running water and fish and chips and bangers and mash. Where's your anomaly?"

"Back that way and up a hill…" Castle replied. "What's an Arc?"

"Anomaly Research Centre. There's a whole bunch of us. Captain Becker, Connor, Abby, Matt and Emily. And Lester."

"Right. Well, I'm still not convinced you didn't murder your own brother. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now. But I want to take you in for questioning."

"By all means lead the way. But can I at least wash first? I don't think you want me stinking up your station. And I don't suppose I could get a coffee, could I?"

He can hardly believe his luck. He's found people. People that aren't his crazy, warped and twisted brother and are willing to get him home. NYPD, Detective Kate Beckett and Richard Castle, just NY. He's a writer, she's a cop. It's a strange kind of puzzle, but their pieces seem to fit. She's stubborn and serious, he's playful and giving. And he's not being arrested. He has the promise of a shower and a mug of coffee and he should be sad that Patrick is dead, he should, and he is. In a way. He was – still is – his brother, but he wasn't his brother. Not anymore. Not after he disappeared all those years ago. And it just means that humanity is no longer in danger from some crazed murderer. It means he can go home. He follows the New Yorkers back through the forest, following the blood trail to the edge and to the hill. He can't see an anomaly. Not yet. But they had to get here somehow. There has to be one somewhere. It's not until Beckett and Castle stop in front of him that he realises something's wrong. The anomalies not there. It's gone. He's still stuck. They're all stuck.