Wow! SO many favorites and alerts and what not, but only one review? I know there are about 4 billion of you out there reading this, my overflowing inbox was proof enough, so how about reviews this time! Shout out to hug-me who did review! You are my life. So here's the next chapter. Let me know whatcha think! Oh and also it's 3rd person until the three pound signs again. I think I'm gonna do that with each chapter…

Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle sat in anxious silence in the back seat of Detective Ryan and Esposito's cruiser as it quickly sped down the highway (much above the speed limit) and back to the precinct, sirens blaring. The two men weren't supposed to use their sirens unless there was an emergency, like for instance a car chase, and many would consider the current situation to be non-threatening and definitely not significant. But to any of the four people sitting in that cop car, this was a catastrophe beyond all standards.

The car screeched to a stop, throwing each of its four, worried passengers forward, and scratching several fresh tire marks into the highway as the afternoon rush began to kick in. Esposito, who was driving, spewed more than a few carefully chosen and colorful words directed towards the traffic jam ahead and his unfortunate luck.

Meanwhile, Alexis, who had not uttered a single word upon leaving the wrecked house, sat with her hands under her thighs staring blankly ahead. Several thoughts ran through her mind as she scrabbled to get a grip on herself. Is it true? Is it even possible? No. It can't be... He's my dad. He can't die. The girl slipped further and further into a trauma induced coma that only produced thoughts of absolute and complete disbelief. But as she seeded through every other possibility (he's at home, he flew to Tahiti for the weekend, he's writing in the Hampton's) and she rejected each case, she came to the conclusion that he was in fact dead. No, murdered.

Why him? she would repeatedly think to herself. He doesn't deserve it. To tell the truth the teenager was more scared than she had ever been in her entire life. She didn't want to be alone, but was terrified that her father had suffered a slow, agonizing death.

Realizing the group would be stuck on the road for quite some time, she finally spoke, making everyone twitch in their in skin.

"He was half of all I had," Alexis whispered.

Kate, who had been looking without seeing through the barred window, slowly shifted her gaze to the young red head. Her head throbbed with each breath and her stomach pooled with nerves every time her heart beat. Her hands, concealed inside the pockets of her coat, shook uncontrollably and her eyes, unbelievably, had a slight wild glint.

Beckett was a cop. Her training told her not to believe in what she first saw; that there were always (always) two sides to every story with limitless outcomes. That there was always a way. But every thought that coursed through her head told her to jump out of the stilled car, run down the highway between the other vehicles, and find a lonely, scum-infested alley to break down in.

But this is Kate Beckett we're talking about here. The likelihood of that happening is about the same as a hair dryer sprouting wings and flying away. It's never gonna happen.

She blinked once before answering, deliberately trying to give herself a chance to clear her head. "Alexis," she began, "He's half of what you have left. You're going to have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of him." She sucked in a deep breath. "Besides, we don't and can't know anything for sure until we have concrete evidence. You saw the body. It's unrecognizable. Okay?"

Her head, which had been angled at the floor, violently whipped up and to the side, facing the older woman. "Okay? Okay? He's dead and all you have to say is okay? I figured you of all people, Beckett, would be more upset than this! You act like I asked what the time was!"

Beckett internally shuddered. "Alexis, I'm calm because I know it's not him."

"Then explain why his phone was in that house let alone his shoes," she bit out, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Tears shown in the teenager's eyes and threatened to spill over as Beckett tried and failed to logically think her way through her proposal. There were several plausible ways that the body WASN"T Castle's, namely being the two key pieces of evidence, the phone and the shoe, might not in fact be his. But there was still the little thought in the back of her head, that when she'd tried to call the writer, there was no way she could've messed up his number. She had him on speed dial. The two men in the front remained quiet.

"That's right!" Alexis shouted, snapping Beckett out of her reverie. "You don't have an explanation because deep down inside, you know something's wrong!" Tears broke from the girl's eyes and began to trickle down her pale, shaking cheeks. She sniffled. "You're Beckett! You wouldn't have reacted the way you did unless you believed… that… that…"

At that particular moment, the teenager chose to break down into shuddering sobs, tears freely splashing to the turquoise cloth of her medical examiners scrubs, not bothering to continue speaking.

Beckett, caught completely off guard, didn't even get a chance to speak or to reassure Alexis that it hadn't been her father she'd seen crumbling and blackened on the floor. Even if Beckett had the chance though, she wasn't entirely sure she could've because the girl had hit the nail right on the head. Kate did think something was wrong.

So against her better judgment, knowing that her actions would confirm the girl's fears, Kate stretched out her arms and enfolded the girl in an embrace, her own throat choking up in the moment. But Beckett held back the emotion she so desperately would have loved to show. Not until anything's for sure she thought to herself.

The car began moving once again.

# # #

"And just where do you think you're going?"

I immediately stopped in place, my hand still outstretched, reaching for the door handle that lead to the morgue. My back automatically snapped into ramrod straight position, and I slowed swiveled to face the Nazi incarnate herself. Captain Victoria Gates.

I laced my fingers together to keep them from shaking (and not from nerves) and raised my eyebrows. "I thought that it would be fairly obvious, Sir," I said to the shorter woman standing before me.

"If you're trying to tell me," she said, folding her arms and erecting her usual scowl, "that you were going into that morgue, then try again."

"But Sir," I said, poker face slipping right off my countenance, "this is my case. I have to go talk to Lanie."

"Not only am I forbidding you to take one step into that morgue, but I'm sure as soon as you set one foot into the room, Lanie will kick you out herself."

"But Sir the dental records just came in-"

"Not another word, detective. You're too close. Even more so than usual."

"Look. I can handle myself," I protested.

She cut me off. "All I can see is an overworked, exhausted detective, with bags under her eyes that reach below her cheek bones. Go home, Beckett."

"But Sir-"

"Consider it an order."

With that, the Captain departed, no doubt stalking off into her office to think of new ways to ruin the days of the general population. Forget this!

Completely disregarding the previous conversation, I whipped around, already reaching for the door to the morgue, but found that Esposito and Ryan were blocking my way.

"Move," I said icily, making certain they got the full effect of my 'momma bear' attitude.

"Go home," said Ryan without breaking a sweat. "Sleep. It's no good working a case if you're running on coffee fumes."

"I'm fine," I objected. "Much to everyone's disbelief I am a cop and have in fact stayed up much longer than this under much worse conditions."

"Maybe," Esposito said, "but this is different. You don't need to see this. Even Alexis went home with Martha. We'll call if Lanie finds anything interesting."

"I'm perfectly fine. Now out of my way!" I tried to squirm my way between the two men, but much to my complete and utter shock, they were a lot stronger than they looked for being so short. A lot.

"We'll. Call," Esposito emphasized.

I groaned, nearly stomped my foot, nearly being the key word here, and spun on my heel, storming my way through the precinct. I angrily punched the 'up' button for the elevator and it, already being there, opened immediately. Upon reaching the street floor, I stomped out the front door and into the buzzing excitement of the sidewalk filled with New Yorkers rushing to get home.

My wobbling knees, cracking in half, finally gave out and I collapsed onto the steps outside the building, my hair falling in front of my face. I bent in in half, my forehead resting on my knees. It can't be over. Not just like that. We didn't survive my apartment exploding, driving into the Hudson River, a nuclear bomb, and a tiger just to have you die in a damn fire! I didn't survive being shot just to find your charred ass in some crack house outside the city. You can't be dead!

My breath left my lungs in a whoosh. Castle. Dead? Even the thought of it, finally starting to sink in, didn't sound right. The man, as childish as he may be, wasn't stupid enough to get himself killed. Even by accident.

I struggled to catch my breath and slow my heart, as my headache came back with a fury. Castle is dead. It literally did not compute, example one being the migraine.

I sunk back into the steps, my spine scraping against the concrete and my head tipping back, the hair falling from my face. "Castle," I said in what would've sounded like complaint, "Why couldn't you have died before…" before I cared. Not that Castle dying before would have been all that fantastic either it just… it hurt more now.

"That I am. Impossible to kill. We could make it my super hero catch phrase! Richard Castle: The Invincible!"

My head snapped to the right and low behold, there on the steps sat Castle in the flesh. My mind was moving extremely slow at this point. I had just come to terms with the fact that Castle maybe, sort of, kind of, a little might be dead. Maybe. And now he had the gall to just come show up in a public place?

"Well here you go," he shoved a Starbucks coffee into my frozen, shell-shocked hands. "Remember, only recycle the bottom."

Numbly, I shook my head.

"And now I really me must be off. Don't forget. Save mother Earth!" And before I knew it, he was gone; melted away into the crowd.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "What just happened?" I whispered to myself. Who the hell cares.

I jackknifed up and sprinted back into the precinct, practically jumping up and down in the elevator, and shoving the unsuspecting Ryan to the side of the morgue door. I barged in.

Lanie jumped, dropping a scalpel, and quickly set it back on the tray. Her expression took a turn for the worst upon seeing me and my more than a little disheveled state.

"Kate, you heard," she began, speaking softly and jumping to conclusions.

"Lanie, you'll never guess who I just…" I waited for her expectant reaction, but it never came. She just stood there with that pitying, sympathetic look on her face. "What?" I said.

"Kate, I'm so sorry. The dental records are a match. Our vic is Castle ."

Alright, what's going on? Beckett claims to have seen Castle outside the precinct, but Lanie has the dental matches. Did Beckett really see Castle or was he just some strange, delusion brought on by grief stricken insanity? Could be either, but would I really be stupid enough to kill off our favorite adult child (Anyone seen the my strange addiction: I'm addicted to acting like a baby episode? Some people…) Any who, back to the cryptic questions. Who is the victim really? Is Castle dead? Is Beckett losing it? How accurate are dental records and how easy is it to access them (cough…cough). All will be answered, if there are ten reviews!