a/n: so Castle just stayed in my brain while Beckett hid. but she'll be back soon. sorry this is so short.

Brown curls.

Waves.

Bright sunlight.

A slow kiss. A warm embrace.

Soft eyes into a glowing smile.

Slight breeze carrying her scent.

God, it felt good. He was never going to leave.

Castle. Oh, the way she said it was just right. He felt that smile against his. It's been so long. Too long.

Castle. It's suddenly just complete darkness. He can't see or feel her anymore. Stop.

Castle? The dark world around him fills with smoke as a fire starts right in front of him. What the hell?

I'm dreaming.

"Castle!" His eyes fly wide open to see scrunched eyes in front of his face and a mouth gaping open coming towards his own. Esposito standing above him. And by the looks of it about to give him mouth to mouth.

"Esposito!" The Hispanic man jumped back as the writer's hands flew to his own face to protect himself. "Did you just try to kiss me?"

"No man! I was not trying to… I was trying… you were out! I didn't know what else to do!" the detective was exasperated trying to get away from the writer. "I just saved your life. You should be thanking me."

Castle looked around the area to a much darker and smokier bar. Castle was still lying on his side of the booth while the table was shoved off to the side as so Esposito could "save" him easier.

"Espo. How long was I out for?"

"Probably not even half a minute. Ryan called it in. Looks like it might've been a car bomb. Just sit up and stay right here we're gonna meet the crew outside." Esposito helped Castle into a sitting position against the wall.

"Who's car was it?" he had an idea but he wanted to know for sure.

"Don't know but the sooner we get out of here the sooner we'll have a better idea." Ryan spoke this time as he finally made his presence known at the front end of the booth. Esposito took the lead out of the hazy building helping people along the way. Making sure to note anybody in need of assistance out of the building.

"Looks like we have some help outside already," notes Ryan as they finally make their exit out of the building.

Castle sees the burnt and destroyed town car in the middle of the block being tended to by the firefighters. He cringes when he sees the few burnt bodies on the ground. Only his imagination can supply what mess is lying inside the car. This wasn't an accident, but that was the obvious fact to point out. He feels all the alcohol and what little bit of hors d'oeuvre he had that night threaten to rise in his throat from the smell and thought of everything. People are screaming and he's not really sure what's happening anymore because he's at this stand still. Everything around him is moving and he's completely in the way.

That's when her name pulls him out his pause. Just a short burst from Ryan's mouth to signal her to where they are. No no no please no. He's pleading with himself and he doesn't know why. Scratch that he does know why. As soon as he sees her again as soon as they speak, she'll send him right back to square one. He'll realize that he won't ever fully move on. He'll never be okay again.

But his mind doesn't control his body anymore. As much as he tells himself to stop, his heart is the one that always pulls him in her direction. His heart is the one that won't shut up about her; not his intellect, not his conscience. His being turns in the direction that Ryan called toward. His eyes hopelessly searching for a glimpse of anything. He's not even sure what she looks like any more. Is her hair still those long, luscious waves that he loved to touch in the morning? Is that smile going to beam out at him like he had made her do oh so long ago? How is he even going to react? In anger is how he should act.

And then, there she is. His eyes fixate on the glowing hair that's so much longer than when he last saw her. Her eyes seem the same shade of dark though as when he last saw them. Her eyes. They're staring right back at his and he's pretty sure, legally and medically, he's dead. The heart in his chest stopped beating after he heard her name and it has yet to start back up again. The heart that she still hasn't given back to him. But he can feel the rest of his body. There is an anger that slowly unfurls in the lower half of his body, rising from his toes. It completely paralyzes him. The shock meets his body half way down in the lower pit of his stomach. He wants to run. Away. To her. He's not sure any more. But the thought of running sounds nice. And possibly vomiting. The earlier feeling from seeing the scene hasn't gone away yet.

It all comes flooding back to him. The images he had when he was knocked out moments ago. It seemed to go by in a blur but they all lasted long enough to feel real. He couldn't tell if they were memories or just dreams. Maybe a little of both. The realization of having those dreams only worsen the clenching in his chest. If his heart was planning on beating anytime soon, he just put off that plan a little longer.

He can see the wary approach she takes now that they've seen each other. Her body language is fighting to stay professional. Her face doesn't show that. She looks… scared. Sad too but scared. And that confuses him. She's not supposed to be scared. She's supposed to be confident. The sight of him shouldn't scare her. It shouldn't even faze her. It shouldn't even matter to her that here he is once again luring in the unwanted act of death and darkness. The look she has on her face should be the usual pissed off at him for standing right in the middle of chaos.

But with all this analyzing and thinking, here she is again. Standing a little farther than arm's length away from him in that burnt orange jacket that he knows she only wears once in a blue moon when she needs to take a break from her other no nonsense jackets. The one that she wears when she isn't trying to stand out but she isn't trying to hide either. Because that's who she is; a contradiction. A complicated mess that used to be all his to clean up. One that he was happy to clean up.

But when she utters the first words, they come out strained, hesitant, and unknowing if it's even the best start to what has been a year of silence between the two. It's scared too and that is still confusing as hell to him. Who is he kidding? What else is there to say when it's been that long? I missed you.

"Hey, Castle." Thump-thump.

so i hate going back through my stories but let me know if you felt anything. let me know what you felt period.

also, show some love for Beckett's jacket. i'm thinking of buying some myself