Chapter 4:


Beckett blinks her eyes open, groaning at the deep ache thrumming through her veins, all over her body. There's nothing but black above her, and she's so dazed for a moment that she completely forgets where she is.

Something wet and sticky is running down her cheek, and she raises a trembling hand, the slickness coming back red on her fingertips. Has she been shot again?

Deliriously, she reaches down to investigate the ache of her scar underneath the loose shirt she's wearing. It feels rough, and still foreign to her touch, but doesn't seem to be gaping open.

Then what-

She gasps in a harsh breath when she turns her head, seeing Castle's body slumped over the steering wheel from where she's lying across the back seats.

It all comes back to her in startlingly vivid detail. Shooters. Car chase. Being run off the road.

They're sitting ducks right now.

"Castle," she calls, praying that he's okay. "Castle, can you hear me?"

He doesn't answer her, doesn't move from the awkward hunch he's positioned in over the dashboard, the trunk of a large tree that's crushed the hood of the car filling her sight through the windshield.

She pulls herself up and unbuckles the seatbelt, fighting against the sharp pain pinpricking every inch of her as she leans over to the front seats. His face is slack, eyes closed, and she can see the deep bloody gash painting his forehead, the grey of bruises forming underneath his skin on his cheek.

Her hand is shaking when she lifts it towards him, reaching to brush the flop of hair back from his face as she tries to calm herself. "Come on, Castle," she whispers, tears starting to clog her throat. "You need to wake up."

A quick check of his pulse reveals a slow but steady rhythm, and she almost collapses in relief.

Suddenly, the growling engine of the SUV at the top of the embankment reaches her ears. "Oh no," she breathes out, gripping his arm.

Thankfully they're hidden by trees, so they won't be able to find them yet, but it won't be long before they locate the car and check for their bodies. "Castle, we need to go. I need you to wake up for me, please."

He murmurs something under his breath, his chest rumbling beneath her hand. Oh, thank God.

"Hey, that's it," she wipes the tear she can feel running down her cheek, irritating the cut that's still throbbing, but she's not able to stop the eased smile growing on her face, even with the sting. "Come on, open your eyes for me."

"Urgh," he grunts, brows creasing as he squeezes his closed eyes tighter, shifting slightly. She heaves a sigh of relief, dropping her head to his shoulder. A few moments later, she feels his head turn towards her, the brush of his hand at her temple. "You okay?"

She laughs somewhat hysterically, the sound mixing in with the grief she had started to feel. "I should be asking you that."

Castle gives her a small smile, and then turns away, kicking his foot into the door to open it.

It gives way easily, the old hinges no match for the strength of adrenaline, and he stands up slowly, swaying slightly, before coming around to help her out of the car. The pain is becoming more acute now, burning fire beneath her skin, aching bruises feeling as though they're covering her from head to toe.

It's so bad that she curses under her breath when she has to cling onto him, not being able to walk without limping. She doesn't even have access to her pain meds to take the edge off.

The twisting branches overhead block out any light from the moon, and they're submerged in darkness as they stumble away from the car, deeper under the cover of the woods. Her feet are bare, the loose stones and roots on the ground poking at her feet uncomfortably, but she carries on, refusing to slow them down any more as they trudge forward into the black nothingness before them.

She fears she may have gone into slight shock when the pain starts fading to an uneasy numbness that makes her limbs feel cold, detached from her body. The utter chaos of the last hour has completely disorientated her, the shooting of guns forcing back memories she isn't ready to face yet, and the effort of trying to stem her panic is costing her dearly with the exhaustion she feels.

Silence surrounds them, nothing but the crunch of twigs beneath their feet, and it's a welcome contrast to the assault of noise the gunfire had created. Still, she keeps checking behind her, over Castle's shoulder where he's helping to keep her upright, expecting to see the barrels of guns pointing towards them at any given moment.

How on earth are they supposed to get out of this? They've just crashed in the middle of nowhere, with hired killers hot on their tail and both of them are injured and probably won't make it far without help. And to make things worse, she isn't even wearing any freaking shoes.

She can feel the pangs of anxiety rising in the pits of her stomach, the way her still healing heart starts thumping harder in her chest, making her feel weak and light headed as her lungs start fighting for air. Distantly, she can feel Castle gripping her arm tighter, shaking her slightly.

"Hey, Kate," he nudges her, sounding worried as he takes on more of her weight. She's finding it difficult to keep standing on her own. "Come on, stay with me; we're going to be fine."

The black of night filling her vision starts blurring slightly purple around the edges, and she's sure that if it were light enough her eyesight would be tunnelling. Her knees drop out from under her suddenly, feeling as though they've been cut off halfway down her legs.

"Whoa," Castle grunts, catching her underneath her arms as she clings to him, fighting with every ounce of her strength to stay upright and not just collapse on the forest floor. She wants to curl up and go to sleep, but if she lies down, she doesn't think she'll have it in her to get back up again.

"It's alright," his voice is muffled, almost as though he's speaking through a pillow. Why does he sound so far away? "You're okay. I've got you, Kate."

Her head is swimming, a wave of nausea overwhelming her as she clings to his shirt, burying her head against his chest as he holds her up. It feels like she has pins and needles everywhere at once, and she whimpers pathetically at the sensation, cursing herself silently for the outcry of weakness, but she can't seem to do anything to stop it.

"I need to sit," she squeezes her eyes shut, panting into the material of his shirt, feeling herself drop as gravity makes her sag towards the cold ground. "Castle, I want to sit down."

"Okay, okay," he soothes, and she can tell he's lowering his knees, holding her to him as they kneel on the dirt below them. They sit there for a moment as she presses her forehead hard against his shoulder, and she tries to focus on the warmth of his arms around her, rather than the sweeping vertigo she's been overcome with.

She pants out shaky breaths, in and out, and she's just starting to feel solid again, no longer like her body's been liquefied and bones turned to mush, when Castle startles.

The static buzzing around her head fades enough that she can hear it too, the sound of rustling branches, footfalls snapping twigs too heavily for any animal. She opens her eyes and looks up at her partner, seeing the panic written across his face as her eyes adjust to the dark.

Their eyes meet, and before she has a chance to protest, Castle scoops her up from underneath her knees, standing as he carries her bridal style. The movement jostles her, and she lets out a small yelp at the shooting pain up her side. She clamps her hand over her mouth to try to stifle the sound, not wanting to attract attention.

Castle sets off, running forward as if he's not at all affected by the added weight of her, and she clings to him, watching the black streaks of trees blur past them as he takes them further into the woods. She only hopes that the sound of his feet hitting the dirt won't travel to the men hunting them down.

Wind is whipping against her face, cold air rustling the mess of her hair, and she burrows her face against Castle's shoulder, breathing through the bone deep ache that is pulsing through her. She tries to stay calm, not think about the fact they are both lost in the middle of the woods at night, being hunted down like foxes, defenceless against the men armed with guns chasing them.

Outrunning them isn't going to work for long, not with her injured state and Castle's depleting strength. They need to hide.

The sound of rushing water suddenly reaches her ears, and she lifts her head up, blinks into the dark to make out the small stream running alongside them now. Castle's stopped, his chest rising rapidly beneath her, heart pumping wildly in his chest as she feels the muscles in his arms starting to quake under her weight.

He's not going to be able to carry her for much longer.

"Castle," she lifts her hand, brushing her fingers gently to his chin to get his attention. He glances down to her, looking panicked and startled, like he's at loss with what to do. "We need to stop."

He shakes his head vehemently. "No," he says firmly, gripping her tighter towards his chest. "I'm not letting them get you, Beckett."

"I know, I know," she calms him, hand flat against the furious beating of his heart. "But I think I have an idea."


Castle huffs, squinting his eyes as he looks skyward, scanning the trees above them for what they are both so desperately looking for.

"Are you sure it's over here?" he asks the detective in his arms, trying not to let the desperation he feels seep through his words. He knows they don't have much time.

She nods against him, the soft wisps of her hair brushing his chin. "Yeah," she sighs, too exhausted to raise her voice anymore. "There's only one stream this shallow near the cabin, and my Dad thought that this would be the safest place to build it because it isn't too close to the lake."

He prays that she's right, otherwise they'll have lost valuable time walking around here when they could be trying to get away.

The leaves blur into streaks as he whips his head around, spinning on the spot to try to find anything, and he's about to reluctantly tell Beckett that this is hopeless, when he suddenly notices an odd shape in the large oak tree before them.

He moves closer, trying not to get his hopes up, but then he sees it.

A tree house.

The outline is faint in the cover of darkness, the growth of thick branches and leaves over the years providing the camouflage as it blends into the surrounding foliage. It's small, just big enough for little Beckett to play in while her dad went fishing in the large lake not far away from here.

It's the perfect hiding place, only visible if you're looking for it, and he almost cries with relief when he sees that the rope ladder, swaying in the slight breeze, is still lowered to the ground.

The only problem now is trying to get up there.

He furrows his brow, thinking about the best way to go through with this, when he hears a booming yell echo from behind them. Staggering, he turns towards the sound, Beckett clenching his arm, and the two of them freeze.

"Castle," she whispers in warning, staring off into the black.

His arms tighten around her, and he leans down to her ear, trying to remain as still as possible. "You're going to have to climb," he tells her hesitantly, aware of how this will be nearly impossible for her, but they don't have any other options. "I'll be right behind you."

She looks at him, eyes wide, before slowly shifting her gaze to the rope ladder leading up into the tree before them. He sees the flash of determination before she begins struggling to get down from his arms.

He lets her go, giving her as much of a boost as he can by lifting her up to a rung higher off the floor. She grips onto the wood, and he quickly climbs up behind her, worried that she's going to fall back off. Squeezing her waist, he silently urges her to get moving, because he can hear the rustling of the gunmen rapidly approaching them, making his panic start skyrocketing.

As she reaches up for the next rung, he holds his breath, doing his best to keep the rope ladder steady. She's wincing with the effort, her body shaking, but she grabs on with one hand. He tries to take some of her weight and help lift her as she begins pulling herself up.

"Shit," she gasps out, faltering slightly, and he braces himself to keep her there. "Oh, shit that hurts."

He presses his forehead against her lower back, trembling with the rushing adrenaline and panic that's threatening to overwhelm his system. He doesn't speak, doesn't want to risk distracting her from the laborious task of climbing the ladder to hide.

The sounds are getting closer, and her muscles are quivering before him as she tries desperately to climb. It kills him that she must be in so much pain right now, but they don't have a choice.

She stops abruptly, panting out heaving gasps as she rests her head on the wood of the rung. They're close to the top now, too close to stop.

"Come on, Beckett," he nudges her side, trying to give her a boost, and she cries out. He curses, worried that the sound will carry to their trackers. "Go," he orders, hating himself but seeing nothing else he can do. "Beckett, get moving."

A trembling exhale hits his ears as she reaches to lift herself to the next step, and he ignores the strain of his arms as he hoists her up to finally reach the floor of the tree house. His shoulders droop in relief when he sees her disappear over the edge, crawling in, and he quickly climbs the rest of the way up, pulling the ladder after him once he's inside.

Once he's certain they'll have no way of reaching them, he turns on his knees, searching through the cramped dark space for his partner.

His heart breaks a little when he finds her.

She's curled up on the wooden floor in a foetal position, shaking with silent sobs that wrack her shoulders, and he crawls over to her.

He lowers himself closer to her, running a hand through her hair to push back the wet strands sticking to her cheeks. Brushing away the tears with his thumb, he gathers her up, mindful not to hurt her any more, as he shuffles them away from the little window built in the wood and instead moves them towards the far corner.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into her hair, and she grips the collar of his shirt tightly in her fist, knuckles turning white as she buries her face against his neck. "I'm so sorry, Kate."

She snuffles, breath hiccupping in her chest, and he just wants to be able to do something, anything, to take the pain away from her. "You did so great, sweetheart."

Feeling hopeless, he just continues to cradle her to him, sitting up against the back of the tree house with her curled into his lap, her long legs draped sideways over his. Eventually, her breathing begins to even out, slowing down in time with her sobs which have thankfully reduced to stuttering gasps now, and he feels the flutter of her eyelashes against his neck.

Her hand moves upwards, releasing the material of his shirt as it travels to the back of his neck, stroking the skin there softly, almost self-soothing in the way it seems to relax her.

Thinking that she might be okay now, he releases a heavy exhale, shoulders sagging under the weight of stress, when he hears the chilling sounds of heavy foot falls approaching the ground beneath them.

Beckett stiffens in his arms, muscles tense, and his spine straightens. She tilts her head to look up at him, and even in the bleary darkness he can still make out her wide eyes searching for him, red-rimmed with fatigue and tears. She looks about as terrified as he feels, and he pulls her closer, pressing his forehead down to the soft skin of hers as they stare at one another, horror-stricken.

His breath is frozen in his lungs, too afraid to make any sounds that could alert the gunmen to them, the both of them utterly defenceless against the hired killers who are no doubt looking to kill them on sight.

"Are you sure they went this way?"

Beckett inhales sharply at the sound of voices directly underneath them, and he grips her hard in warning to stay quiet.

"The fuck do I know, you idiot," he hears another muffled voice travelling to them, the unmistakable click of a weapon's safety being turned off. "You're the one who thought it'd be a great idea to run 'em off the road in the first place."

Beckett's watching him, her large eyes black in the night as they stare up at him, doe-like and frightened. He wants to get her out of here, take her someplace safe where no one can ever harm her again. He wants to hold his daughter and see his mother, keep them next to him where he can see for himself that they're safe.

Because what if people have come for them as well? It's pretty obvious that he was the one they followed out here, after all.

"The boss said that he wants her dead, he didn't specify how to get her that way."

Her. They were still coming for her.

If he ever finds the son of a bitch who's behind all of this, he'll kill him with his bare hands.

He closes his eyes, unclenching his fists as he tries to calm down, and he feels Beckett's nose brush against his own, so softly that he almost doesn't feel it. Lifting his hand to stroke her waist with his thumb, he tries to return his heart-rate to normal, grounding himself with the touch of her.

When he opens them again, he sees her in front of him, a watery smile decorating her cheeks as she blinks up at him, fingers running soothingly through his hair.

"Bracken's a dick anyway," another muffled voice grumbles up to them, and he feels Beckett stiffen, gaze flying to his wildly at the sound. Bracken. They have a name. "If the money wasn't so good, I'd tell him to shove it."

The men below them continue their arguing, and Castle strains his ears trying to hear any other pieces of information they might leak as they thankfully begin walking away. They remain still, huddled together in the corner of the dark treehouse, neither of them daring to breathe before they're certain the men are out of range.

Beckett moves first, shifting away from him slightly as she heaves out a shuddering sigh, running a hand through her dishevelled hair, before turning back to glance at him.

"Bracken," she whispers, hand trembling as she tucks the strands behind her ear.

He nods, feeling his heart ache for her. She doesn't deserve any of this. "I heard."

"No first name," she says, reaching out to touch the collar of his shirt again. "Think that we can still find him?"

His brow furrows, his chest tight as he thinks through the implications of her going after this guy again. He just wants to hide her somewhere, keep her safe so that she can heal and no one can ever touch her again. "I don't know."

She bites her lip, looking down, and he reaches out and pulls her towards him again, hugging her. Coming willingly, she flops against him, raising her arms to hook around his shoulders, her cheek resting against him. He breathes her in, the smell of woods and adrenaline mixing in with the ever present cherries, the familiar scent still faintly present and calming his nerves.

"We'll find them one day, Kate," he promises her, his cheek pressed against the silk of her hair. "Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but we will."


A/N: Thanks so much for the ongoing support, you really have no idea how much it means to me (also, thank you to all the guest reviewers, because I can't reply to you individually).

I wrote this chapter listening to the lovely Evan Petruzzi's music- which if you haven't already checked out on iTunes, you should definitely go and listen to because it's wonderful and you will love it- so thank you, Evan!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next one will be up in a few days!