Hi there!

Prompt: Castle's reaction to Kate being undercover... I realize that this is most likely completely wrong, especially after seeing the sneak peek, but I never really write Rick so I thought I would see what you all think.

Thank you a million for the response on my Valentine's Day one shot. You all are awesome! Now, this feed will be for one shots. Also. not all of these one shots will be angst or sad. This was just something that I thought might be interesting.

Please send in prompts!

Enjoy!

He's scared. Completely and totally, consumed by the fear that has since been escalating every moment she's been gone and off the radar. It's paralyzing. He's paced the bullpen so many times that he's unaware of what's around him. He's bitten his nails to nothing but nubs. The crease in his forehead has been there for days, causing a never-ending headache. The weight on his chest that has settled causes him anxiety; a feeling he's never really felt before. A carefree man turned to an absolute mess. His team, their team, is swarming, doing anything and everything they can to find her and lift this weight that seems to be crushing him.

There's no way of escaping this feeling of worthlessness. He can't do a damn thing. There have only been a handful of instances when he was powerless, reminded that he wasn't a cop, just playing one. It was those moments that drew him back to reality. Told him that this wasn't all fun and games, that they didn't solve crimes just for the books, that he was Richard Castle, just NY. It was those moments that he had to keep his distance and duck his head because he wasn't one of New York's finest; he was just a writer. This was one of those moments. Most often, he could shake it off, make a witty comment, and they would resume with their day. But this was so much different than most often. He never expected that this one would involve her life; one of the only times in his consultation that a case had hit close to home. This was a knock at the door, standing on your welcome mat closeness that made him want to vomit.

He had no way of getting to her, knowing where she was, knowing what to do, no control, no authority, no nothing. What scared him the most was that no one knew. No one had an exact pinpoint on her whereabouts. She was undercover, it was normal to be invisible, but this wasn't part of the plan, she wasn't supposed to stay invisible. In the wind. He had heard her say that so many times about suspects. They had always caught them, though. Now she was gone and they were trying to find her. A sick game of hide and seek that they usually won. He just hoped they would find her and not have to call Ollie Ollie oxen free. So, he watched night and day as the entire precinct buzzed with activity. Narcotics mixing with homicide in an attempt to bring back the best homicide detective in New York City.

He had made the timeline, wouldn't let anyone else do it. He had included everything; where she started, where she could be, where they thought she was, people, places, things. Anything that might get her back went on that board. He stared at it for long stretches of time trying with everything in him to come up, for once, with a logical theory that would bring her back and get her out of the hands of these people. He tried to think that maybe it was their own fault. Maybe everything was going as planned and they were the ones that had screwed up. He tried to believe that she was fine and she was on her way home. But he knew, deep down, that that wasn't true. So he would go back to thinking, letting his imagination wonder.

But that was probably the worst thing he could do. God, he could only imagine what she was going through. She was strong, but that didn't stop him from worrying. He was protective of her, and not being able to protect the one you love was maddening. His over active imagination let images of horrid, underground activities tug at his emotions, making it that much harder on him. No matter how hard he tried to stop them, no matter how hard he tried to focus on something else, images of water torture, firearms, and disrespectful, filthy men, danced in his head.

All he wants is to hold her. Wrap his arms around her and be reminded that she's okay. He wants to look into her eyes, examine her scar, smell her cherry shampoo, and hear her laugh. Anything concrete. All he wants is a sign that she's okay and that she knows they're trying. They've been through life threatening ordeals together before. But the key word was together. And this time, they were not. This time, she was alone and helpless. This time, he was worthless. She had no one to turn to; no backup, no reassurance, no comfort.

He's never been much of a holy man. He's gone to church on holidays, said a prayer here and there; but these last two days, he's been talking to the man upstairs as often as he can. Pleading with Him to keep her safe and bring her back. Asking that just this one time, a case will have a happy ending for someone. All he's asking is for this one thing. He can't help but regret all the times he'd passed a church or cursed God's name; it just couldn't be good karma. He sat in the break room, head down resting in his hands, pleading that they find her. It had been two days, and nothing; the odds got worse by the hour from here on out.

It was this particular time, the second instance he'd prayed that morning, when the phone in the Captain's office rang. She reached it before the first ring ended. Castle's head shot up as Gates' did, and they made harsh eye contact. He jumped up, racing for her office. Her conversation was quick, the person on the other end doing most of the talking. When the other person had finally finished speaking, she exchanged a thank you for his information before slamming the phone back to the receiver. It was then that she looked him in the eye, uttering three simple words. "We got her."

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xoxo