A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely response to the last chapter. I'm so glad that everyone liked the case details. Thank you for patiently waiting for the next chapter. I love reading each and every one of your sweet reviews as well as interacting with you on twitter! Thanks as always for all of your support. Also, this chapter will put me a little over 15K words so now onto my goal of 30K! :)

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Kate (MyRandomness03) for not only her friendship but her sweet review and words on twitter! Thank you, always! xo

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the characters used in this story nor do I claim any ownership over them.

From Broken to Always

"I climb into the dark for you.

Are you waiting in the stars for me?"

-Ally Condie

Afternoon, November 6th, 2015

Castle startles awake several hours after they've gone back to sleep, his reason for waking still all too clear in his mind. Trying to put the dream out of his mind, he lets the woman in his arms calm the rage that's still racing through him. Kate still suffers from PTSD dreams from time to time, but they didn't realize that he was going through the same thing until he started showing some of the same signs about nine months ago.

He'd been home for about four months after being run off the road and taken on their original wedding day. When he returned he had no memory of the two months that he spent away from her. He thought that he never would until the dreams started. They've never been clear enough to make out any details that could help them figure out who really took him. And nothing in the dreams ever pieces together with the next.

Kate had arranged for him to meet with Dr. Burke shortly after the dreams started. After only a few visits Dr. Burke concluded that Castle was suffering from PTSD. Almost nine months later the dreams have lessened in their frequency, but every now and then things that he and Kate have been through creep into his pleasant dreams and turn them into nightmares.

The image of Parks with his hands around Kate's neck still burns bright in Castle's mind. He squeezes his eyes closed to try and banish the image away, but it only seems to intensify it. In his dream, Parks had managed to lock the door before wrapping his hands around the delicate skin of Kate's neck and Castle could only yell and watch in horror as the color and life drained from her face. The moment she began to slide to the floor was the moment he startled himself awake.

Castle traces his fingers down the soft skin of his wife's naked back, writing words of love over each vertebra until she begins to stir in his arms. And he smiles to himself at the thought that they are both deliciously naked and nothing sexual has occurred.

"Mm, what time's it?" she slurs.

He reaches for his phone on the table bedside the bed and clicks the home button so that the screen comes to life, illuminating the time.

"A little after twelve," he answers.

Kate hums and presses herself closer to him. "Feels good to sleep this late, we needed it."

He kisses the top of her head while his hand continues to caress her back. "Yes it does. I'd stay in bed with you all day, every day if I could."

She chuckles and lifts her head so that she can press a soft good morning kiss to his lips. When she pulls away she notices the stressed look on his face in spite of their light conversation. They're so in tune with each other that nothing goes unnoticed even when one of them tries their best to hide things.

"You okay?" she asks as she lifts her palm to his cheek, caressing the soft skin underneath his eye with her thumb.

"Yeah," he answers nonchalantly but she isn't buying it.

"Castle, I can tell something's up."

He frowns but sighs in defeat as he prepares to answer her. "I had a dream."

"About your kidnapping? Those haven't happened for a while."

"No," he shakes his head. "It was about Parks…" he trails off for a minute, swallowing thickly before continuing. "He was choking you, but this time he had locked the door and I couldn't get to you. I was yelling and pounding on the two way mirror, but I knew I was watching the life drain out of you and there was nothing I could do."

He closes his eyes when he finishes, willing the horrible thoughts away.

"Oh, Castle, I'm sorry that you had to watch that yesterday, but I'm okay."

He opens his eyes to focus on her and the tension instantly leaves his body, until he focuses on her neck. Light blue and purple bruises have formed on her neck in the shape of fingers.

Kate sees the moment that Castle's eyes cloud over before he reaches a hand out and delicately traces the bruises with his fingertips. "This is not okay, there are bruises."

She can hear the anger seeping into his tone and she pushes herself up, lifts her leg over his body so that she's straddling his hips. He looks up at her with a mixture of sadness and anger and she leans down until their noses are touching.

"Babe, it's just some bruising. It will heal. We have the whole day to spend with each other and I'm not going to let what Parks did ruin it."

She kisses him then, a hard press of her lips that quickly turns passionate and desperate when she runs her tongue along his bottom lip. He opens his mouth for her without second thought and she slicks her tongue inside, exploring the hot cavern. She kisses him until the need for air becomes too much and then she reluctantly pulls away, letting the warm puffs of her breath dust against the side of his cheek.

They don't need anything more right now, just the reassurance that they've made it through everything life has thrown at them. The soft weight of her in his arms, the delicious press of her skin against his and the feeling of her lips against his cheek work in combination to ground Castle and banish all thoughts of his dream away.

Kate's about to attempt to get him to tell her the next part of their story early when her stomach lets out a loud growl that neither of them can ignore. Castle chuckles and kisses her cheek.

"Seems my wife is hungry. Come on; let's go get something to eat."

She reluctantly climbs off of his lap and out of the bed, holding out her hand for him and smiling when he stands and takes it.

Kate starts the coffee pot while Castle searches for something to fix them, eventually pulling bacon and eggs out of the fridge.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

Kate quirks an eyebrow, but then her smirk gives her away. "Breakfast for lunch? Do you even have to ask?"

He laughs as he grabs the butter and closes the refrigerator door with his foot. Breakfast food has been their thing since before they ever got together. From Castle cooking Kate pancakes after sleeping on her couch to 'protect' her one night, to Kate cooking for him when she stayed at the loft after her apartment was blown up. It's just another thing that speaks more words than either of them were ready to voice at the time. Another way of saying 'I love you' without any words.

Castle flips the bacon as it sizzles in the pan and then cracks several eggs into the skillet beside it. Kate pours them both a cup of coffee and can't help but pinch the delicious swell of his ass as she sets his mug down and slips around him to sit on a stool at the bar. He yelps but gives her the same salacious smirk that she's giving him.

"Ah, someone's a bit handsy this morning."

"You complaining, Castle?" she quips.

"No, never. You know I love your hands, amongst other things." He wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"Hmm, would you care to show me? I seem to be a bit fuzzy on those things." She circles the tip of her pointer finger around the rim of her coffee mug and winks at him.

Castle groans as he removes the bacon and eggs from the stove and divides them on two plates. "That's very tempting, and I plan to refresh your memory very thoroughly…" he trails off as he slips on to the stool beside her, setting her plate down in front of her before leaning over and placing his lips against the shell of her ear. "On our anniversary," he finishes his sentence and then his lips are gone and he's popping a piece of bacon into his mouth to try and hide his amusement of working her up.

She huffs as she reaches for her fork and starts to eat her eggs, but she doesn't say anything to him for a few minutes.

"Are you pouting?" he asks after swallowing his last bite of food.

"I don't pout, Castle."

"Oh but you do," he laughs. "And it's adorable."

She levels him with a glare before sliding off her stool and taking her plate to the sink. "And let's say that I am pouting, what are you going to do about it?" she asks.

Castle brings his plate to the sink and rinses it off. When he's finished he turns to his wife and wraps his arms around her slim waist, drawing her close. "Well, I thought maybe we could crawl back in bed and I would give you the next part of our story a little early. Would that earn me any brownie points?"

"Hmm, tell me the story first then I'll let you know."

"Have I ever mentioned that I also love your stubbornness?" he asks as he starts to walk them towards the bedroom.

"You may have mentioned that a time or two."

She pulls out of his arms to reach for his hand and tugs him back into their bedroom and onto the bed. She looks like a kid at Christmas as she crosses her legs and eagerly waits for her husband to tell the fourth part of their story and in that moment Castle loves her a little bit more.

He positions himself against the headboard and rests their joined hands on his thigh. "So many parts of this year are going to be painful to tell, but I think I've managed to find the beauty in most of it. The best part is that we both know how it ends and it's why year four is my favorite one."

She squeezes his hand and leans into his side. "I have no doubt that your recount will be beautiful."

And so Castle takes a deep breath and takes them back to that painful yet life-changing year.

The fourth year of knowing you, I watched you die in an ambulance. In those seconds that your heart wasn't beating I knew that my heart was dying with you. I loved you so desperately that I hated myself for waiting so long to tell you. The moment your heart started beating again, I made a promise to not waste any more time.

At the hospital I became a praying man, praying for you to pull through. Our family gathered together, offering support while we waited, but it was Josh who really opened my eyes. I was angry at the time, appalled that he was blaming me for your shooting when all I wanted was to push you out of the way. He was right though. I was the one who pushed you to look into your mother's murder. I was the one who put you in the crosshairs.

But he was also wrong. I loved you in a way that I had never loved anyone. Pushing you to look into your mother's murder was about helping you. I wanted you to be all that you could. You were so much more than her murder, but for the longest time you couldn't see that. I never wanted you to get hurt in any way. If I could have taken that bullet for you, I would have.

I was desperate to see you once we know you'd survived and the moment I walked through the door of your room it was like my heart started beating again. When my eyes met yours I felt a new rhythm form in my chest and I knew that loving you was something I could never escape.

You asked for some time, said you would call me and I was happy to oblige. I just wanted what was best for you, even if I wasn't it. I waited. You never called. For the first few weeks I told myself that what you were doing was justifiable, that your recovery was more important than anything else. But then I started to feel the emptiness that your absence was creating and the bitterness began to creep in. I wanted to help you, be there for you, but you weren't ready for any of that.

Seeing you at my book signing was like a punch to the gut. Your presence stirred that rhythm of my heart back to life, but I wasn't sure I could handle another let down. You waited for me outside the store, your stubbornness and determination proving more about you then I was willing to see at the time.

I was bitter. I didn't want to think about you recovering with Josh's help, but you quickly eliminated that image from my mind when you told me that you had broken up with him. It was no secret that you liked him, but he wasn't what you needed—what you wanted. Everything about your body language said it; I didn't need to hear the words from your mouth.

You told me that you needed to solve your mother's murder before you could have the kind of relationship that you wanted. What I really heard was that you wanted us to be more but you needed me to wait. You gave me another glimpse of hope, so I waited.

I saw the jealousy creeping in when we worked the case with Serena Kaye. I never had any interest in her in the way you thought I did because I was waiting for you. I saw your body language when I kissed her in the hallway of her hotel to distract her from seeing you and the boys. Everything about you screamed 'He's mine', everything but your words.

When we investigated the murder of Jack Sinclair, I got another glimpse of the feelings you were trying to hide. I hoisted you onto my shoulders so that you could slide up through the trap door. I didn't miss the hitch in your breath or the heat radiating from where you were pressed against me. I slid my hands up when you told me to grab your legs, you attempted to scold me for where I actually grabbed, but I felt the shudder rip through your body.

I got lucky enough to be on the phone with you when the bank that mother and I were at was being robbed. Robberies weren't something you usually handled, but you came because I was there. You ended up as the hostage negotiator, talking to Trapper John like it was something you do every day. You put yourself in danger when you entered the building dressed a paramedic. I was angry, but so glad to see you. I slipped you the message about the C4 as we loaded Sal onto the stretcher and I knew that you were going to do everything you could to get us out. The touch of your hand, brief as it was, gave me all the hope I needed.

I closed my eyes seconds before the bomb went off, memorizing your face and touch so that it would be the last thing on my mind when I died. The bomb went off, but I didn't die. I cracked my eyes open only to find that all of the hostages had survived and then I registered the sound of your voice. You sounded so defeated, as if you expected to find only bits and pieces of me. The sound of your voice, the look on your face when you saw me, spoke volumes.

You knelt down in front of me and released my bound wrists and then your hand was on the collar of my shirt and the entire world faded away until only you and I remained. And just as I thought we were about to finally speak some of the feelings we'd been hiding, my mother reminded us that we weren't the only ones in the room.

You were doing so well with recovery up until that point that no one had noticed you were struggling. You were doing well at hiding it, but I caught on. I watched you begin to spiral out of control, lost in a black hole that threatened to pull you under for good. I knew there was only one person who could get through to you at the time. I talked to Espo and he agreed to help you. He gave you the words you needed, the strength to pick yourself up and overcome the PTSD. I never wanted you to know that I was the one who asked him to help you, but at the end of the case you thanked me and I knew that you had figured it out.

For a brief time we got to take turns taking care of a dog named Royal. It felt like having joint custody of a child with you. I brought Royal to you on the first night of keeping him. In the process of trying to show you what he liked I reached for your hand, rubbing slow circles on the top of it. It was supposed to be a lesson about what Royal liked, but I saw the way you looked at our hands, felt the thud of your pulse against my skin. I wanted to hold on longer, but we weren't quite there yet.

When we worked the case of the blue butterfly, I remember you accusing me of reading the diary as if you and I were Joe and Vera. You were right, that's exactly what I was doing. It was easy to place us in their love story, easy to imagine that we had a love as strong as they did.

And then we were plunged into the river, sinking to its depths while water poured in around us. I was terrified that we weren't going to make it out of that one. We almost didn't. I found your gun seconds before I lost consciousness from lack of air and somehow managed to shoot your seatbelt and the windshield without injuring you. I grabbed your hand, and swam with all of my might as I pulled us towards the surface. For weeks after that case I felt the phantom press of your hand in mine.

We made so much progress after that. Little touches here and there, personal chats that allowed our connection to grow. We worked that bombing case and the site of the victims, the devastated families had me making the decision to make a move before it was too late. I tried to tell you that I wasn't willing to wait any longer, but we were interrupted and I told you it could wait until after the case. I came in with coffee later that day only to find you already in interrogation with the suspect. You didn't know I was watching. You told the suspect—a stranger, that you remembered everything about your shooting. I didn't give you a chance to explain what I had heard. In my mind, there was no explanation.

I flew to Vegas that weekend, met Jacinda on the flight back. I was under the impression that you no longer wanted me to wait on you, that you didn't feel the same way that I did. I was reckless and hurting and I tried to throw away everything that I felt for you. I let my choices and my body language speak all that you needed to know about us. I tried my best to be done, but it was never an option for me.

Jacinda was just a fluke, a way to get back at you for what I'd heard. I never wanted anything with her and I never slept with her. I just wanted some type of reaction from you, some proof that I was wrong about the way you felt. You caught on quickly, tried to talk to me about it, but I wasn't willing to let you off the hook yet. I wanted more from you, I wanted your words—the words that mattered.

We worked the zombie case soon after that. Throughout the case we seemed to get back a little of what we had before I heard you, but we still hadn't talked about it. At the end of the case you told me that your walls were almost down and that you wanted me to be there when they were. It was the first time since hearing what you told Bobby that I actually believed that you might want more than you were letting on. It was the first time I let myself believe that you might love me or be able to love me one day.

And finally we come to the most difficult case we had ever worked. A murder and break-in that seemed like any other at the time, until the evidence began to roll in and the bullet was a match to the rifle that you were shot with. I tried my best to reassure you, but I saw the toll it was taking on you. I reminded you on the second morning of the case that you weren't alone, that I was there for you. You reached for my hand and told me that you knew, but your touch said so much more. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and hold you close, but once again we weren't quite there yet.

I tried to help you in any way I could, but then I got the call from Smith and I knew that if I didn't stop you they would kill you. I came to your apartment that night with a mission, but I never expected it to end the way that it did. What started as me begging you not to pursue the case quickly escalated into one of the worst fights we ever had. You were so determined to fight them, to end the battle by waging your own war against them. I couldn't watch you die, so I had to walk away from you. Telling you I was done was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. My heart screamed at me to turn around, to beg you to listen and to stay with me, but I knew that until you understood the reason for my choices, there would be no hope for us.

I attended Alexis's graduation with a heavy heart. Heavy for all of the things in my life that were ending. I was so proud of her and all of her accomplishments, but I didn't want to let her go any more than I wanted to let you go. She reminded me that night that I was her solid ground, her north star, and somewhere deep down I prayed that you would eventually feel the same way, and that you would let me be those things to you. She reminded me that I would be with her always, just as you would always be with me—no matter what.

You called me that night just as I had decided to delete your file off of my computer. I couldn't imagine adding you to the growing list of deceased people who had worked the case so the best thing for me to do was delete it. Just seconds after I deleted the file you knocked on my door.

I really wasn't expecting to find you there when I opened it, but when I pulled the door open to find you soaking wet and trembling I knew that it was going to be now or never. You made the decision for me. When I asked you what you wanted you made sure that I heard you when you said 'you'. And then you backed me further into my loft and your lips were on mine and my whole world tipped on its axis.

You whispered apologies against my skin, framed my face with your hands in determination to keep me from pulling away from you. But when your lips touched my again I had to know some answers first. I pushed you away from me, but I felt the thud of your pulse beneath the grip of my hand, felt the way your heart was racing. I thought that I only needed three words from you, but the three words you gave me weren't what I was expecting. They were more. I'll never forget the look on your face, the rapidness of your breath, the tears rolling down your cheeks when you said those words. "I just want you."

I hesitated for only a minute because I had to let those words sink in, let them speak all of the things they meant to me. And then I made my decision, because letting you walk away was not an option.

I pushed you back, slamming the door shut with your body and I swallowed your gasp. Desperation mixed with emotions and the feelings we'd both been hiding poured out of us and into that kiss. I let my hands roam your body, let the feel of you beneath them remind me that it was really happening. I savored the taste of your mouth, the smell of your cherry shampoo mixed with a hint of vanilla. I briefly left the wet heat of your mouth in favor of trailing my lips down your neck. It was then that I remembered the thing that had started our fourth year together and I needed to see it. I unbuttoned your shirt until the healed scar came into view and you reached for my hand, pressed it against the puckered skin.

And I couldn't help but think about how something so terrible also became something beautiful. Your shooting pushed us apart, tested us in ways that I never imagined, and yet we passed every one of them. You survived and you came back stronger, and you fought to become the person that you were in that moment, standing against my front door. In that moment that scar became ours, our victory. I committed every second of that kiss to memory because it was the moment that we went from broken to always.

This time when he finishes his story the tears are streaming down Kate's cheek, but the smile that stretches across her face is more beautiful than he's ever seen it. He cups her cheek, letting his thumb catch the moisture as it falls.

"That was so beautiful, Castle. You manage to take even the most painful of moments and weave them into something full of hope and love."

He smiles and pulls her into his lap. "I'm glad you liked it. And just think the ending of that year is where our story really began, so the next few chapters will be much easier to find the beautiful moments in. Not that it has ever been hard for me to find a beautiful moment when it comes to you."

There was a time when Kate Beckett would have rolled her eyes at a comment like that. A time when she would have hated the sappiness of moments like this. But Kate Castle is a different story—a different person. She loves her husband and all of his sappy sweetness, and she savors these moments with him.

"So did I earn some brownie points for that one?" he asks.

"Mm, I'd say you earned more than some, but you'll have to wait until our anniversary to find out."

"You play dirty, Mrs. Castle."

"Well, I have to give you a little taste of your own medicine, besides the idea of waiting until that night to unleash all of this sexual frustration is kind of growing on me."

He swallows her laughter with the press of his lips and the joy of who they are continues to grow.

Chapter four, complete.

Would love to hear your thoughts! xo