Prison of Darkness

Disclaimer: Castle is definitely not mine.

Notes: The prose in this one isn't quite as fluid as I'd like, but I'm letting it go before my tinkering makes it worse instead of better.

Chapter 7

Kate was shivering as she walked into the heat of the station. The temperature had plunged during the night and now the air felt and smelled like snow. Of course, she had forgotten her gloves so both her fingers and her toes were numb. Her nose wasn't doing so well either. Even though she loved her brown leather jacket, it was time to switch to her red winter one.

"Good morning, Beckett," Karpowski said cheerfully. The other woman looked rosy and warm. Kate just nodded and moved as quickly as she could towards the coffee machine.

Ryan and Esposito were already in the break room. They were sipping coffee and talking about Jenny. As one, they looked up as Kate entered.

"You look frozen, Beckett," Esposito said helpfully.

"Thanks."

"How is Castle this morning?" Ryan asked, his blue eyes shadowed with concern.

Kate fumbled with the coffee machine and blamed it on numb fingers and not the helpless feeling Ryan's question caused in her stomach.

"About the same. His body is healing quickly, but they aren't getting any other response from him. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong. He just won't wake up." She frowned as she finally got her coffee started and almost growled, "Typical Castle stubbornness."

Ryan made a noncommittal sound, and she ignored him as she watched her cup fill. She knew she shouldn't take her worry about Castle out on him, but the frustration was driving her crazy.

She took her cup out of the machine and sipped gratefully. The warmth spread out through her body, tingling through her veins.

"Have any of our test results come back yet?"

"I called earlier," Ryan told her, "and they should be getting to both the glass and the shovel today."

"Finally," Esposito added.

"Maybe we'll get lucky. Anything else going on?"

"Things are pretty quiet."

After acknowledging this, Kate wandered over to the murder board, taking her coffee with her. She leaned against the desk in front of the information and sipped at the cup in her hands. Once more, Ian Woon smiled innocently out at her. Under his picture, the names of his friends and relatives were listed. All of his friends from work had alibied out, as had both Mr. and Mrs. Tutweiller. No one could think of anyone that would want to hurt Ian. There was obviously something missing, some piece of the puzzle that she was sure she could find if she just looked hard enough.

The last known people to see Woon alive were Nickerson, Jackson, and Boudreau, but they had all left the victim and gone their separate ways after work. Woon had returned home, and nothing more was heard from him until Steele overheard him arguing with his killer.

They knew how he had been killed—brained by a shovel—at about nine o'clock, which concurred with Matthew Steele's statement. They knew there had been a fight, one that tipped furniture and spilled wine. It annoyed Kate that they had no idea how to fill in the blanks.

But, the results hadn't come back yet. There was that, at least. Kate had big dreams of clear fingerprints or some microscopic drops of blood.

She stared at the murder board for a good ten minutes and decided she could have used Castle. He thought outside of the box, and sometimes when he was weaving unbelievable stories, he hit on the right answer.

Thinking of Castle made Kate's mind go back to her strange dream. It had been odd, but it felt very real, and the memories she had of it were crystal clear.

She frowned into her coffee, swirling it around. The dream had to have come from a place of fear and longing. She knew she was overtired from worry and lack of sleep. Her body was heavy and her head felt fuzzy.

As if thinking this set off some reflective action, Kate found herself blocking a very large yawn with her forearm. She felt as if she could go to bed and sleep for a week.

Maybe she just needed another cup of coffee.

Draining her cup, she headed off to the break room to find some more of the life saving liquid. As she entered it, her eyes settled on the couch, and Kate wondered if anyone would notice if she just lay down to rest her eyes for a minute.

She placed her cup on the nearby counter and settled onto the cushions. They felt like the welcoming arms of an old friend. Already, she could feel herself relaxing.

Just a few minutes, she told herself. A few minutes. Maybe ten.

She sighed and closed eyes that felt gritty from exhaustion...

XXX

Kate found herself inside the village this time. The sun was high in the sky, and it was still warm. She wondered how much time had passed.

"Kate Beckett, I presume?" an unfamiliar voice said behind her.

Kate whirled to find a man studying her seriously. He was a big man, taller than she was and as broad as a bull. His dark hair was shorn short, and he had a thick neck and hard features. His eyes were flat and cold.

Her hand instinctively reached for her gun, and she was momentarily surprised when her fingers actually brushed it. That's when she realized that she was wearing the clothes that she went to work in that morning and not her pajamas.

Her second surprise was when the man put out his hand and said, "Jacek Bowman."

Kate hesitated before gingerly taking the offered hand. Jacek's hand was firm and calloused—and very, very strong.

"The Council is sending me to solve the Shadow Walker problem," he continued after their shake was over.

Kate didn't know if she liked the way Jacek said this, and she wondered just how he had been told to solve it.

"I arrived in Four Corners just after you left this morning," he continued, answering the question that had occurred to her first. "I was sent from Amberlin to talk to the Mystic here because she was the one in touch with Lill."

"Lill?"

"Our man inside Rithisak's fortress. I'm just heading back to the inn after securing supplies. Walk with me."

Kate allowed herself to relax slightly, but she didn't forget the reassurance of having her gun with her. As for Jacek, he had a very heavy sword hanging from his waist and a row of sheathed knives running diagonally across his chest. He looked like a killing machine.

They were near the road you turned onto to get to Safe Haven, but the walk was long enough that Kate felt awkward in the silence.

The people in the street didn't even seem to notice her this time. She had a couple of children stare at her, and she assumed this was because of her strange dress, but, for the most part, she was ignored.

Before they reached the inn, Jacek suddenly asked, "Are you coming with me to the Prison of Darkness?"

And, just like that, Kalahn's words came back to Kate. She had been focusing so much on Jacek that she had almost forgotten what had been said the last time she dreamed about this place. Castle kidnapped, tortured, killed by some strange sorcerer who wanted to cross worlds. Unbelievable and terrifying.

"This isn't real," she said firmly, though she wasn't sure if she were answering Jacek or herself.

He stopped and looked at her. Really looked. His eyes searched her face—every nook, every cranny. He stared into her eyes until her own eyes burned in sympathy because they didn't blink.

After several uncomfortable minutes, he said lowly, "You think this is a dream."

The tone of his voice made her breath catch, but she answered just as firmly as before. "I know this is a dream."

"This is not a dream."

Slowly and deliberately, he put up his hand and unsheathed one of the knives on his chest. It was a long, wicked one, with an edge that looked as if it could slice through bone. Kate had to stop herself from reaching for her gun.

"Give me your arm."

"I don't think so."

"If this is a dream, what do you have to be afraid of?"

She had to admit that he had a point. Hesitantly, she held out her arm.

"This is going to hurt," he warned.

"Okay."

He took his knife and ran it lightly down the back of her forearm. The knife was so sharp that that little bit of pressure was all he needed to make her arm start to bleed and sting. She could tell the cut was shallow, but the blood welled up, first slowly, than faster, and started to drip from her arm onto the tightly packed dirt road.

Kate pulled her arm back at the pain, giving Jacek one of her best death glares.

He didn't even acknowledge this. He just said, "Now wake up."

"Wake up?" she asked. "How do you expect me to just wake up?"

"You can figure it out. Just do it."

She was distracted as she wondered if she should press something against the wound. It hurt like hell.

"Kate," he repeated, "wake up."

"Fine," she growled, gritting her teeth.

She mentally shook herself. Closing her eyes, she tried to beat against the barrier of sleep.

"Wake up," she thought. "Wake up."

XXX

Kate gasped as she opened her eyes. Her whole body jerked, and she could feel her heart racing.

"Okay, I'm awake," she said calmly, trying to ease her reaction to the transition. "Now what?"

Her arm stung. Stung and tickled at the same time. She glanced at it and froze. A shiver went through her body, bringing ice everywhere it touched.

Blood was smeared over her arm and there were spots on the back of the couch. It seeped from her arm, dripping down her wrist and onto her blue silk shirt.

A scream tried to escape, and the only reason she didn't release it was because she couldn't. Her throat muscles had clamped shut. They were so tight she could barely breathe.

Panic was not a familiar feeling for Kate. She had seen so much horror that her mind usually bypassed panic. Terror, now, terror she occasionally felt, but there was never time for panic.

Kate closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She forced her breathing and her heart to both slow.

"Beckett?" Esposito's voice made her eyes fly open again, but at least now the panic was gone.

"You've never seen a cut before?" she asked, sitting up quickly and ignoring the shaky feeling in her legs.

"What happened?"

"Could you get me a damp cloth, please?"

He studied her with a worried expression before nodding sharply and disappearing. Kate took the opportunity to examine the wound. It was still seeping blood. Even though it was shallow, it was quite a gash. It was also in the same arm as the one Jacek had given her in her dream. Not only that, she decided as she studied the couch, there was no way she could have cut herself while she was napping.

She pushed this conclusion to the back of her mind as Esposito came in with her damp cloth. She took the cloth and wiped off her arm as best as she could. Then, she dabbed at the cut, soaking up some of the blood still emerging. When that didn't help, she pressed the cloth to her arm. The rough cloth hurt against her cut, but at least she could no longer see the blood.

"Are you okay?"

She gave him a look that made his glance slide away.

"Any news on the Woon case?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Our test results came back."

Kate forgot about the wound in her arm and looked up at him sharply. "And?"

"Well, there was DNA on the glass and a partial retrievable print. The DNA was a close match to Woon's but not exact, which means..."

"He had a relative visit him the night of his death."

"Yes."

"And the shovel?"

"It was definitely our murder weapon. There were bits of bone and blood embedded in the steel. Tests showed that they belonged to Ian Woon."

"Any prints on that?"

"No, and they haven't been able to match the one on the glass."

"Dammit."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Okay, I want you and Ryan to interview the family again. Find out if they know who visited Woon that night."

"Will do."

"I think I'm going to request Woon's financials. When in doubt, follow the money."

Esposito nodded and left the room. When she was sure he was gone, Kate lifted the cloth from her arm. The blood had stopped, and the cut was starting to look a lot less nasty. Even so, its implications made her stomach turn and her head whirl.

What was she supposed to think?

People just didn't fall to sleep and wake up somewhere else. People weren't kidnapped and taken to another world to be used in some evil ritual. Sorcerers didn't exist. Thinking they might made her head hurt...but thinking of Castle really locked up in a dark prison waiting to die made her heart hurt.

She had a choice in front of her. To believe or not to believe. The rational part of her mind told her she was crazy to even consider it. Still, there was the gash in her arm. It was pretty irrefutable. Not believing would be easier. For a very long time, Kate had been telling herself that magic did not exist in reality. Since her mother's death, she had built her world around this fact. But Castle believed. And sometimes, just sometimes, the writer was right.

Calmly, Kate got up from the couch. She made her call about Ian Woon's financials and was told she had about a three hour wait. With nothing to do for three hours, she decided to go see Castle. Maybe, just maybe, seeing him would make it all make sense.

XXX

He had taken over a hundred pictures of her already. He had some small, grainy ones taken on his cell phone, and there were better quality ones from his camera (like the one of her just out of the shower and the one of her hugging a pretty girl.)

He had wanted to plaster the pictures all over his wall, but he was afraid someone would see. He didn't want anyone to know. He wanted to keep Detective Beckett all to himself.

This thought made him remember the man and he frowned. What business did Detective Beckett have kissing that man when she belonged to him?

Anger bubbled inside of him, and he let it. He would have her. He would.

XXX

Kate was hesitant as she walked into his room. Martha was sitting there with him, holding his hand, and Kate didn't want to intrude.

He was looking better. His face was pale, but a lot of the tubes and wires had been taken away.

At the sound of the door, Martha glanced up. Kate smiled at her, and Martha smiled back.

"Look, Richard," she said, "Detective Beckett has come to see you."

"Hi," she said to Martha.

"Hello. Richard and I have just been having a discussion about the theatre. As you can see, he found it very exciting."

Kate appreciated her try at humour and showed her so by squeezing the other woman's hand gently.

"I'm just going to leave you alone to have some privacy," Martha continued.

"You don't have to go."

"It's all right, Kate. I'm going to go have something to eat."

"Okay. Thanks."

Kate took the seat vacated by Castle's mother. She just studied him for a bit, her eyes roving over his face. There was nothing in it to indicate anything was amiss. He might have just drifted off; she almost expected him to open his eyes at any moment.

"I see you're still avoiding work," was what she started with. She wanted time to order her thoughts so she could say what she needed to say. She hoped that way they would come out sounding less crazy than they did in her head. "I know you'd go to great lengths to avoid writing, but this is a little ridiculous."

She reached out and ran a hand over his forehead, brushing his hair back. What secrets were locked away in that mind of his? Had Castle ever heard of a Shadow Walker?

"Something strange is happening, Castle," she said slowly and softly. "And I don't know what to do about it. I've been told that you're not really here, which probably means that you can't hear me. I have to tell you about this anyway. It's too crazy to tell anyone else.

'I've started dreaming. Really strange, vivid, amazing dreams. At least, I thought they were dreams. Now, I'm not sure."

She looked down at her bandaged arm, remembering the way it had felt when Jacek cut her and the way the blood had flowed both in the dream and in the break room.

"Are you there, Castle? I wish there were some way you could give me a sign."

Of course, he remained silent. She sighed and continued, "I got hurt there. Not badly, but enough, and I was still wounded when I woke. How do you explain that? I can't. And if that's real, maybe it's all real. Maybe you are being held prisoner in a prison of darkness. Maybe I do need to save you. I'm sure Jacek's first priority isn't to make sure you live. It's probably to make sure that sorcerer guy doesn't use you in his ritual. It's probably a dead or alive situation. If that is the case, then you need me.

'I don't want to believe. This doesn't make sense to me. Help me. Help me see what I need to do."

She took a deep breath and voiced the words that had been on her mind for days. "I don't want you to die."

No matter what else was happening, this was the bare truth. She knew it was as she said it. The words felt right as they left her lips.

Hearing them, a light came on in her mind. That was all that mattered. Reality didn't matter. The existence or non existence of magic and other worlds did not matter. The only thing that mattered was that he best friend lived.

She might be going crazy. It was true. Maybe the dreams weren't real and she was delusional in her grief over her friend. That didn't matter either. She had to try everything she could to save Castle. That included throwing herself into a dream.

If he were locked up in the Prison of Darkness, she would find him and free him. She didn't care if it were crazy, not if her doing it made Castle wake up. She would give more than her sanity to save his life.

With that realization, Kate felt as if a weight were being lifted from her shoulders. It seemed so simple when she thought of it that way.

She knew talking to Castle would make it all make sense. It always did. No matter her problem, no matter what he said or didn't say, his presence seemed to make her look further inside herself. That never happened for her with anyone else.

"Thank you, Castle," she told him, reaching out the same fingers that had caressed his brow to take his hand. "That helped. A lot. Now, you hang on. Hang on tightly in that Prison of Darkness. You are probably wounded. Don't die. You can't die because I'm coming to get you."

His hand was warm in hers, and she could feel the faint beat of his pulse. It seemed to be telling her that everything was going to be all right.