Thanks for the love, everybody. (: This chapter includes two parts, because they were both short.

And to Jayce Gish (PM's were disabled): I guess it's a good thing it's fiction then, hmm? (; Thanks for your insight! I'll keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or anything affiliated with it.

Enjoy!

Night 4: Beckett was standing in a warehouse.

It was deserted; it's utilitarian industrial white paint peeling off of the cement brick walls. Her footsteps echoed with each step, and she stopped in the middle of the room, her service weapon out and in front of her.

Then she heard more footsteps, and a man emerged, walking slowly to face her about 15 feet away. Sunlight poured in the wall of windows behind him, lighting him up.

"Castle?" She asked, very confused, furrowing her brow and lowering her gun.

"Go home." Castle told her. "Leave. You're not safe here."

Beckett smiled a bit, just sure he was joking. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a trap. Get out of here. It's too late for me." His blue eyes showed no trace of their usual warmth or happiness.

"Why?" Beckett asked, and then a shot rand through the warehouse. She spun instinctively to look for the shooter, but found no one.

When she turned back around, Castle was on the floor.

Everything happened in slow motion. She heard herself yell "Castle!" and she tried to go to him, but it felt like she was running through waist deep water. Every time she began to get close to him, he got farther away again. "Castle!" she screamed again, frantic and desperate. All of the sudden, arms were holding her back. She thrashed against them, shrieking, "Let me go! I need to be with him! Stop it!"

She kept fighting her captor until she became aware that she was in a hospital, and that two nurses were trying to restrain her so that she didn't rip herself free of all her tubes. She stopped moving, confused, and lay down on the bed, breathing heavily.

Cautiously, the nurses relaxed their grip. "Ma'am?" one of them asked. "Ma'am can you hear me?"

Her eyes searched the room frantically. "C-Castle."

Nurse 1 looked at the either. "What did she say?"

Nurse 2 shook her head. "I have no idea. Castle?"

Romanzi came jogging into the room, and Nurse 1 stepped aside so that she could have access to the bed. "What happened?"

"We aren't sure. She was asleep, then all of the sudden she was tachycardiac and her bp skyrocketed so we ran into here, then she just started screaming and flailing." Nurse 2 informed her.

"Flailing?" Romanzi echoed. "Like seizing?"

"No." Nurse 2 shook her head. "This was different."

"And then she said something, but we didn't understand her." Nurse 1 added.

Romanzi turned back to the bed to find Beckett feebly trying to get up, using the railings to bring herself to a sitting position, and then swinging her legs off the bed.

"Hey." Romanzi put a hand on Beckett's shoulder and eased her back into lying down. "Detective Beckett? Are you alright?"

"I need to see Castle." She told Romanzi.

"Castle. That's what she said before." Nurse 1 said.

"We sent him home, remember?" Romanzi asked in a soothing voice. "Visiting hours were over."

"He's dead." Beckett's eyes swam with tears.

"No. He's fine. He called to check on you just a few hours ago, and he'll be here at 11 A.M. when visiting hours start up again."

She thought for a moment, and then everything became clear. Embarrassed, she closed her eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Romanzi said sincerely. "You just had a bad dream."

Beckett looked away. "Every night…" she muttered.

"You have these dreams every night?" Romanzi asked.

Beckett gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Unless Castle's there." She whispered.

Romanzi frowned. "I'm going to give you a sedative to get you through the night, alright?"

"Fine."

Romanzi filled a syringe with a bit of clear liquid and pushed it into the port on Beckett's IV. "This should help you sleep. I can't promise that it will fend off nightmares, but it should calm you down enough that it should help."

"Thank you." Beckett said, clearly still mortified at her outburst.

"You're going to be okay, Detective." Romanzi tried to comfort her.

Beckett gave another nod.

Knowing the conversation was over; Romanzi patted Beckett's shoulder gently and walked just outside the room to the two nurses (who ducked outside when Romanzi was explaining where Castle was, figuring it was none of their business). She looked at them seriously. "Make sure she's being treated right. Not only is she a detective, she's also my favorite patient."

Nurse 2 nodded while Nurse 1 said, "Will do."

"And keep an eye on her. She's showing signs of PTSD. Watch for more symptoms."

Day 5: At 11:05, Castle came walking into Beckett's room, holding a bouquet. He paused in the doorway. "Bored yet?" he asked with a small smile.

She looked at him and laughed lightly. "You have no idea."

"I brought you a book." He handed it to her, set the flowers down on the bedside table, and took a seat.

Beckett looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Heat Rises."

"Advanced edition. You're the first one to read it." Castle paused and then added, "I didn't know what else you read. If you don't want to read it you don't have to."

"No, this is great. Really." She offered up a small but genuine smile. "Thank you, Rick."

Her smile made his grow bigger, and hope filled his chest. "You're welcome."

Beckett looked at the bouquet on her table. "Why did you bring me flowers?"

"That's what you do when people you care about are in the hospital."

"I've been in the hospital before."

"And I brought you flowers then too. Three times."

Beckett simply shook her head, smiling just a bit more.

Castle watched her for a moment. "How're you feeling, Kate?" he asked finally.

She took a second to answer. "Better." She nodded and looked at him. "The meds help a bit."

"Good." Castle nodded as well. "I'm glad."

Beckett messed with the edge of the blanket. "And I realized you were right. About everything. And I'm sorry I put you through what I did."

Castle shrugged. "You were already forgiven.

"And I want to say thank you. Yet again." Her eyes locked with his. "For everything."

"You already know what I'm going to say." He pointed out.

"I know." Beckett looked out the door and into the hallway where Romanzi was standing at the Nurses Station, talking to the two women from last night. She sighed and the smile slid from her face.

Castle furrowed his brow. "Something wrong?"

The now all-too-familiar obviously false smile that didn't touch her eyes now played on her face. "Yeah. Fine."

"Bullshit." Castle said simply.

Beckett hesitated, and then returned her gaze to the blanket and her hands. "I had another nightmare last night." There was no point in lying. He would figure it out anyway.

He looked guilty. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. They kicked me out. I-"

"It's okay." She cut him off. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Castle searched her face for a moment. "Doesn't mean I can't care."

Romanzi stuck her head in the room. "Mr. Castle? Can I talk to you for a second?" she glanced at Beckett. "In private?"

"Oh, um," He looked from Romanzi to Beckett and back again. "Yeah, sure." He stood and followed the doctor into the hall, brushing the tops of Beckett's feet with his hand as he passed. He stood in front of Romanzi, looking concerned. "What's up?"

"I think there may be more to Detective Beckett's state than we originally thought." She said in a hushed voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, before I say this I want you to keep an open mind." Romanzi cautioned.

He didn't like the sound of this. "Okay…" he said dubiously, crossing his arms.

"While the lack of medication is almost definitely what caused the cardiac arrest," Romanzi began. "I believe that she's developed a…condition."

"A condition?" Castle echoed.

"Yes." She nodded. "I believe that she's showing signs of PTSD."

"PTSD?" He repeated again. "PTSD. Seriously? You've gotta be kidding me. PTSD is for soldiers."

"Most commonly, yes, but it can occur in any person who's been through something tra-"

"She's grieving, okay?" Castle cut her off sharply. "She's not broken, and you're not House. Stop looking for mysteries where there aren't any." He began to walk away.

"Do most people you know grieve like that?" Romanzi asked, causing him to stop and turn. "Is the rest of the NYPD handling the tragedy in this way?"

Castle had no response.

"Look." Romanzi said. "All I'm asking is that you keep an eye out for the signs. If she suddenly gets angry without reason, has bouts of disorientation, insomnia, anxiety, nightmares, roller coaster moods or anything like that, I want to know. I'll call you in a few days to check, alright? But don't alert her, because it could make things worse."

"She's not broken." Castle reiterated.

"PTSD doesn't mean you're broken." Romanzi told him gently. "It just means you're sick, and we can help treat it."

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