The safety was off but it was too late. He had left from the same door he entered. She heard foot steps ascending from her and she knew he was going up.

"Rick! I need you!" His arm broken and ribs shattered he clearly couldn't respond due to agony. She fired off three rounds out the door. They were in rage and incredibly inaccurate. She rushed out the door and up the stairs firing up at whatever body part she happened to see. She heard several shots from above her. She wasn't hit but the cover fire did freeze her in place. Then a door opened and as Beckett got to the top she saw the door to the roof close. She had the fucker cornered now.

Gun raised at the door she kicked it open and the hydraulic lever caught the weight of the door on its way back. She scanned the view she had as the door closed and the open view of the city sky line was all she could see. Once again pushed the door open with a kick and she started through. Allowing her peripheral sight to take over and catch any motion for her to target. She inched through the door way and, with her heart pounding adrenaline into her sense, she proceeded. She was hunting this bastard down. Not much of a prey apparently as he was standing to the left of her about ten yards away. Gun pointed at her and she matched her line of fire to his body and pulled the trigger. Click. Shit. Nothing. He grinned.

He could hear steel drums playing hula music and heavily tanned women covered his chest with lotion to avoid burning his pale skin. Oh how sweet this would be. Not so since he too was out of bullets. When he heard the empty click of the hammer landing on nothing to ignite his grin faded. So there they stood with empty guns in their hands pointing at each other. Beckett looked around and patted her body for a clip. Nothing.

The faded grin now was a grimace. He was going to get his paradise if he had to tear out this cop bitches heart! He started to run...

Kate caught a piece of rebar in her sight laying on the ground. Either a lazy construction worker or maybe a deus ex machina from her own mother she wasn't going to ignore the possibilities and in one kicking swooping motion from her leg lifted it up in the air into her hand. Then twirling it like a katana she raised it to attack.

It wasn't long before the fight started Richard Castle was able to voice his agony. Red Death. Overdosing on pharamaceuticals. Cracked ribs and a hyper extended elbow from a killing machine. Trying to cope with the pain he only had one thought left, so this is what it's like to date Kate Beckett? He grabbed his arm and wanted to snap it back in place like in the movies. There was always some bona fide badass able to swallow the pain and restore his range of motion in his clearly destroyed limb in those Bourne movies. Why couldn't he? Because Jason Bourne he was not. It was not on a Bourne film anyway and was probably from one of those movies with Dwayne Johnson in it. Wait. Was it? Snap out of it. She needs you! He rolled over and thus felt the piercing sensation of ribs pressing into his lungs. He was not much help to anyone.

He could hear his mother on the phone. Talking to the 9-1-1 responder and demanding attention. Someone was coming to fix them but his eyes gazed on the destruction. His daughter had been knocked on her ass by the assassin and Jefferson was gasping for air. He would live. Jefferson was bruised but would live. The lady cop, Valdez or something, was on the floor was getting up and was helping Alexis up. Castle's daughter was having a hard time breathing and was most likely bruised somewhere but she would live. The only person he had doubts on surviving was himself. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt and thinking was foggy. Fuck! He wanted to grow ten feet tall and shatter walls with his mind but ridiculously frail mortal coil would not allow it. Grabbing his wounded arm he put weight on his forehead and in a slug like fashion arched his body up to the ceiling.

Martha, fresh with her makeup guacamole, knew he was trying to stand up.

Richard Castle was drugged, broken and demoralized but damnit to hell he was not going to let Beckett do this alone. Somehow raising his body up he started to stand but between the antihistamines and being able to breath and the screaming agony in his arm it just wasn't happening. He collapsed back onto the ground. Banging his head on the ground he could feel his body give up. He wanted to go on. His brain screaming for a miracle. His brain went to a very dark place. He was dying. Alexis would be without him. His mom would fall apart. Kate Beckett was going to be killed by a cold war relic. He had failed. His nightmare was coming true. He rolled onto his back and wanted to explode from the pain but he was in tact. He wanted to cry from his failure but it only caused his pain to worsen. The world was fading from him. His breath shortened. Things were fuzzy now. Fading... fading...

She slapped the sonofabitch right in his abs with all of her might with her rusted, crappy, skinny bar of metal and whether he felt it or not was irrelevant. She wanted him to hurt like nothing on this Earth ever had. Wanted him to be the Jesus Christ of assassins. Suffer the wrath of Kate Beckett you asshole. I'll be your Ponctious Pilot and you be a martyr for murderers everywhere you monstrous mother fucking animal.

Send a message. The voice was clear. Mom? Don't mess with my Katherine. She spun and slammed the metal base into the base of his skull when he leaned over from the previous blow. She was hoping it wasn't done and it surely wasn't.

He'd been hit in the head before and the scrawny cop wielding some rusty thing wasn't going to stop him. He slammed a hand into the gravel on the roof and supported himself. He peaked over his shoulder. Saw her twirl the "sword" and lower it on his back ferociously. He relaxed and went with the blow equally distributing the energy to the ground and rolled into her legs there by knocking her down.

Her face slapped the gravel and it hurt. Not enough to stop her but just enough to snap her out of her rage. She looked for her weapon but it was bent and useless. An impotent sword on the battle field left her without range but she WAS going to kill him. Right here. Right now.

Gorgon snapped his body up and ignored the pain of slapped by rusted iron and raised his body.

Beckett was crawling on her belly trying to get her feeling back on her body. Chest, boobs, abs, pelvis, thighs, knees and ankles all scraping gravel to avenge. She tried to push herself up but she felt her hair tug and body get lighter. He had her. The sharp pain on her skull awakened her to the situation at hand. It wasn't until she saw the concrete off the edge of Castle's loft that she realized he was going to throw her off the building.

Her pupils dialated. There was no flashing of her life in front of her eyes. Good then that means I'm not dying.

Valdez was coherent. The paramedics and Ryan were there. "They're on the roof." What little she had caught of the fight? Beckett running out the door. That was it. She caught the writer being put onto a stretcher. She immediately tightened her body and awakened to the situation and ran out the door... to the left.. and up the stairs.

Beckett felt the wind of the city brush her hair. It was like a breath of relief. She closed and snapped her eyelids open. The situation was this:

Gorgon had her.

He could kill her with a flip of the wrist but he hadn't.

She really appreciated the hesitation from him but knew for her heart and soul she couldn't do anything. So instead she spoke. "You killed my mother!"

Gorgon laughed. "I've killed a lot of mothers."

Beckett had not one ounce of sympathy left. Not a drop in her toes. He continued.

"You know when I saw you in the cemetary I thought twice about squeezing the trigger. You looked so much like your mother." That was when her brain snapped. At the edge of the building of the man she loved she decided she was willing to die.

Valdez slammed threw the rooftop door and raised the gun. Nothing. A gust of wind pushed her to the right and she saw the culprit with the Det. Kate Beckett's hair in his left hand. She was holding onto his wrist, trying to alleviate the pain of having her hair pulled by a psychopath, then her silohuette narrowed and twisted to invoke a leg sweep. The killers' legs went out. Then he fell off the building. Taking Kate with him.

Jose Valdez, traffic cop extrodinaire, was scarred from this moment on. Screaming "NNNNNNOOOOO!"