A/N: Hey, look! New chapter! Hopefully I'll be better about updating now that my semester's over. We'll see how it goes. :)

He felt the cool metal of the trigger beneath his finger as he held it trained at the assailant's head. He could hear her voice echoing in his ears, as if the words had just been spoken: Anything goes south, and you shoot. This definitely qualified as south. In fact, they were getting dangerously close to the equator. But the gun was shaking visibly in his hand, and he'd never trusted his aim less. Beckett's head was just a few inches from her captor's, and if he was just a little off…

The gun in his hand wasn't the only one he had to worry about. Carson's weapon was pointed straight at the detective's heart, and it was clear that he intended to fire. Even if he failed, the burly man who had her in a near chokehold trying to keep her still held his own gun with the barrel pressed directly against her back.

He watched her struggling against this man and tried to tune out Carson's constant stream of verbal abuse. It would only distract him. He wasn't helpless, he told himself, he just had to act quickly. He'd have to shoot one, and then take out the other before the first realized what had happened. But he kept changing his mind about which one to go after first. Carson's reflexes were faster, and Carson, after all, had been the one who'd ordered the hit on Beckett's mother. His brain told him that he was the logical first target. But the other man kept tightening his hold on her neck and he could tell that it was becoming difficult for her to breathe, let alone fight back, and his heart told him that if either of these men needed to die, it was him.

Then there was another voice somewhere in the back of his mind, one he was trying to tune out, that kept reminding him that he'd never killed anyone before. He knew he'd never regret saving his partner's life if he did, in fact, succeed, but what if he didn't, and he still ended up killing a man? Would taking someone's life change him? Would it harden him? Change his view of the world? Make him less of a father to Alexis? This was something he would've liked to discuss with Beckett, but now was clearly not the time.

And then there was the even worse scenario. What if he misfired and she was the one who he shot? He knew that he wouldn't be able to live with the knowledge that he'd killed her, no matter how accidentally. That was not an option.

He hadn't even made his decision yet when he heard the gunshot and saw her body crumple and fall to the ground. Carson and his accomplice exchanged a grin, an actual grin, and took off. Immediately he abandoned his post behind the dumpster and ran to her side. "Beckett," he said as he knelt down beside her. "Hey, you're okay, right? You're fine." But she wasn't. Her eyes stared up at him, unseeing. "Beckett!" he called again, trying to jar her out of her unconscious state. He got no response. "Kate, look at me. Look at me. Not like that, look." Her expression didn't change. "Kate!" he whimpered, feeling tears starting to pool in his eyes.

He pressed his ear to her strangely bloodless chest and heard nothing. No breathing. No heartbeat. It was too late. She was gone.

"Castle."

He pulled the blanket over his head, annoyed by whoever was trying to wake him up. He didn't want to be awake. Not if his partner, his best friend, the one person besides his daughter who he cared about more than anything else in the world, was dead. And it was his fault. He hadn't been quick enough. He'd let them kill her. And with that knowledge, he wanted to lay here in the dark by himself and let his tears soak into the pillow. That was all he wanted to do.

But this person was insistent. "Castle," he heard again. "Come on, wake up, it's okay."

The voice sounded familiar. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was… but it couldn't be. She was dead. He'd watched her die.

"Oh my God, you are a sound sleeper," the voice said this time, sounding irritated if a bit shaken. "You need to wake up, now."

He felt someone shaking his shoulder, and not gently. Suddenly he realized where he was, why he was here, and who it was, still very much alive, that was trying to wake him up. He tried to wipe his face on the pillowcase before he turned to look at her, which seemed inevitable, so she didn't find out that he'd been crying. "Hey," he managed to whisper, meeting her eyes. Eyes that looked back. She'd never been more beautiful to him.

"Castle, what the hell?" On the surface she looked angry, but there was something about the knit of her eyebrows that let him know that anger was not her primary feeling right now, however she tried to mask it. "Why were you yelling my name in your sleep?"

"Uh…" He couldn't tell her that he was now the one having dreams about that night. She was the one who was supposed to be damaged. Not him. He needed to hold it together. He needed to be stronger than that. For her. And even if he couldn't, he needed to make her believe that he was. "I don't remember," he lied feebly. "Must have been a dream. Dirty, maybe."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a liar."

"What time is it?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"I don't know, early. You're not getting out of telling me what's up."

"Nothing's 'up,' I just had a dream. It's fine. Time for coffee?"

He started to get up, but she pushed his shoulder back down. "No. You're not getting out of talking about this. Period."

"I told you, I don't remember. There's nothing to talk about."

"Castle. You don't just wake up crying and then not remember why."

He wiped his eyes with the comforter self-consciously. So she had been able to tell. "Forget it. It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal, and I won't forget it. We made a deal, remember? We're supposed to help each other make it through this hearing in one piece? How can I do that if you won't at least tell me what's bothering you?"

"What makes you think it has anything to do with that?"

"Well it does, doesn't it?"

He looked down, finding that he couldn't hold eye contact with her while he was trying to lead her to believe something untrue.

"It just makes sense," she explained gently. "I know it was on your mind last night. What happened? In your dream?"

"It doesn't matter. It was just a dream."

"Castle, come on."

"Beckett," he said pointedly, "I'm fine."

She cringed a little at his use of her last name, and he literally rolled his eyes. He'd been enjoying the familiarity of calling her Kate so he hadn't complained, but he noticed that she was still calling him "Castle" almost every single time she addressed him, and, frankly, he was really starting to think that her sudden discomfort with her own name was stupid. It was about time that he stopped indulging it.

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry if I woke you up. But there's nothing I need to talk about. Now, either go back to bed or let me get up and make coffee."

"You didn't wake me up," she murmured.

He frowned. "You were awake? Isn't it kind of early?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"You did go to sleep last night, didn't you?"

She shrugged again. But this time she was the one not making eye contact.

He sighed. "You're not gonna go back to that now, are you? You were doing so much better."

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, why? What were you thinking about?"

"What were you dreaming about?" she countered.

He sighed. They could play this game. They were both good at it. It could go on for days, and neither would break. But now it was Tuesday. There were six days until the hearing, and they'd be heading back to the city in five. It didn't leave time for juvenile games. Just this once, he would forfeit. "Carson shot you," he said softly. "And then he ran away. By the time I got to you, it was too late." He swallowed the lump that began to form again in his throat just thinking about it. He would not allow himself to cry again, especially now that he could see clearly that she was just fine.

"I died?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well… yeah."

"And that's why you were so upset?"

"Of course."

"Well, look. I'm right here, and I'm fine. Okay?"

He nodded. "I know."

She looked into his eyes, frowning. When he looked back, he could see how tired she was. He wanted to send her back to bed, to let her sleep away the entire day if that was what she needed. But the way she was looking at him, he could tell that this wasn't going to happen. Just as he'd been studying her, now she was studying him. And he understood what this meant: everything was going to change. She'd been serious about what she'd said the day before, about them taking care of each other. He didn't like it. She had enough to worry about without adding him to the list. But he knew that there'd be no talking her out of it, especially now. Now that she understood that she wasn't the only one hurting.

"Your turn," he prompted. "I told you mine. What's keeping you up?"

"Right now? You."

"How about before that?"

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"…you."

He frowned. "Explain?"

"What you said yesterday, about it not being any easier for you to hear about that night than it is for me to talk about it."

"What about it?"

"I just don't like that you got pulled into this. If you want to go back to New York and be with Alexis, forget any of this ever happened… you should do it."

He shook his head. "No I shouldn't. You were right. I'm going to have to listen to all of it at the hearing anyway. It's better to be prepared."

"You don't have to go to the hearing."

He frowned. "Of course I do. I'm a witness, aren't I?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Like you said, it's not a trial. If you don't want to go, I can get you out of it."

"And how would that look?"

"That's for me to worry about."

"Forget it. If there's any chance that my being there will help you get your badge back, then I'm gonna be there. And even if there wasn't, I'd still want to be there just to support you. Will it be easy? No, probably not. But how many things worth doing are? We're gonna figure this out. We'll get through it."

She nodded, trying to stifle a yawn.

He smiled. She was adorable when she was tired. He held out his arm to the side a little, resting it against the bed frame. "Come here," he coaxed.

She frowned. "What?"

"Just come here."

She stared at his arm. "There?"

"Just for a second."

Hesitantly, she slid into position beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her. It looked like she might try to squirm away, but then she relaxed, letting her eyes close.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Mmhmm." She leaned into his side. "Feel better now?"

He nodded. "Much better. But you know what? I need you to stop worrying about me. You already have enough on your mind."

"Not happening."

He sighed. "This is ridiculous. We're never gonna get anywhere if we keep arguing about this."

She nodded. "I agree."

"So what do we do?"

"Castle, were you not listening to me at all yesterday?"

He frowned. "What?"

"Remember? You take care of me, I take care of you? You're good at the first part, but you suck at the second."

He chuckled. "Excuse me?"

"I know I'm normally not the person to talk, but I really think I've been getting better about telling you what's on my mind."

He nodded. "Yeah, you've been good."

"So here's the deal. You do the same, and there won't be any more arguing."

"The same what?"

"Just talk to me. Look, you say that I have enough on my mind without worrying about you, and you're not wrong, so why don't you just make it easier for me? Whether you realize it or not, I can tell when you're upset about something. If you'd just tell me what it is without making me nag you about it, then I could just help you through it and we could move on to the next thing."

"Hey, I told you about the dream, didn't I?"

"Only under duress."

"Just trying to get you back into being a cop."

"Can you be serious for one second?"

"I was being serious. I thought it was time to lighten the mood. Too early? I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just agree."

He sighed. "I will try to let you know what I'm thinking."

But she wasn't satisfied. She pulled herself away from him and met his eyes, frowning. "Why is that so hard for you?"

"Wasn't it hard for you?" he countered.

"Yeah, I guess. At first. It gets easier."

He shrugged. "I guess I'm just not there yet."

"You should be." She seemed to relax a little but still frowned. "Castle?" she finally asked.

"Yeah?"

"You know I care about you… right?"

He hesitated. "Yeah. Of course. We're partners."

"But… it's not just because you're my partner. I care about you because… you're you."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. "Okay," he finally said. "I care about you too."

She nodded. "I know you do. I'm just not sure I'm very good at letting you know that it works both ways. And that's why I want you to talk to me. Not just because of the hearing. Because if there's something bothering you… that matters to me. I need to know that you're okay before I can be okay."

"I'm fine," he said. He smiled, trying to convince her. "Okay? I am okay."

She shook her head. "No. If you're having nightmares about that night, if you can't even bear to listen to me talk about it, then you're obviously not okay. But you don't have to be. Do you remember what you told me last week? On Saturday, before we came here, when I was at your place?"

He frowned. He was sure he'd said a lot of things, but he didn't remember anything specific. "What?" he asked.

"'It doesn't make you weak,'" she quoted. "'It doesn't make you flawed. It just makes you human.' That's what you said. And you were right."

It was strange, hearing his own words tossed back at him this way. He remembered saying it, remembered how frustrated he'd been with her for insisting that she was fine when she so clearly wasn't, but he hadn't ever considered applying those words to himself. But then, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the circumstances weren't really different. How could he expect her to take his advice if he couldn't even do it? "I couldn't protect you," he breathed. "All those things he was saying. Carson. All those threats. And I couldn't do… anything."

"That's not your job."

"I'm your partner."

"But you're not a cop." She leaned back in, this time even closer than before, letting the back of her head rest against his arm. "You did nothing wrong that night, Castle," she said. "Let that be the least of your concerns."

But he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't. He could have done things differently, could have tried to shoot the two men, as he'd been instructed, rather than giving up and calling Montgomery. If there hadn't happened to be a team in the area, if it had taken the backup longer to show up… well, his dream could certainly have been reality. And then it would have been his fault that she was dead. As it was, it was his fault that she was in trouble, and that was bad enough. If he could've just done what she'd told him…

But it was too late to think about that now. It wouldn't do any good. "It's really early," he murmured. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "It is."

He let himself sink down into the bed, and she started to pull away, probably, he guessed, to go back to her own bed. But he found that he didn't want her to go. When he closed his eyes, he didn't want to be able to imagine her face as he'd seen it before, blank and lifeless in the alley. If she was here, if he could feel the warmth of her body next to his, hear her breathing, smell the delicate scent of her cherry shampoo, then maybe the nightmare wouldn't come back. Maybe, he hoped, this solid evidence that she was alive and well would be enough even for his subconscious to process. But how could he explain this, especially as his already tired mind was getting closer and closer to sleep? He didn't want her to get the wrong idea. They couldn't afford another breakdown in communication, not with so few days left. He wasn't looking for anything to change. He just wanted her here. Right here.

"Don't," he murmured, letting a hand rest on her shoulder, hoping it would coax her to stay. "Please?"

For a second, she hesitated. "Castle…"

His heart sank in a way he couldn't account for, and he let his hand drop. No matter what happened, what either of them said, or how many times she insisted that he use her first name, he was always just going to be Castle to her. Maybe that shouldn't have bothered him so much. It was his last name, after all, and it was what she'd always called him. She'd only used his first name a handful of times, and it was usually when she was making fun of him. So really, why did it matter?

But before he could even finish this pointless internal soliloquy, he realized that she wasn't leaving after all. She was sliding in between the sheets of his bed and letting her head rest on the spare pillow. She kept to her own side of the bed, and in turn he kept to his, but she was here, and she was okay. And with that knowledge and that proof, he could go back to sleep.

A/N: Sorry if that beginning part made you nervous. But I guess that was the idea, since clearly it scared Castle. :P Anyway.

So I noticed something funny that happened at the end of "Always." This... isn't so AU anymore. I mean, it still IS, since it's still set at the end of season three, and everything that happens here is different, but the idea of Beckett not being a cop anymore and hanging out in the Hamptons with Castle... not so far-fetched.

Reviews make me happy. Leave some, please? Thanks as always! :)