A thousand silhouettes dancing on my chest. No matter where I sleep you are haunting me.

When he wakes up his bedroom is too bright, blinding him, intensifying his headache. He looks down at himself, naked, finds a sticky hand around his shaft.

What the hell happened?

He sees the empty scotch bottle on the floor next to his bed and wonders if last night was just a dream. Kate wasn't really here, was she?

He tries to sit up but is immediately knocked back down by a hand on his chest and the force of his head snapping back makes him dizzy. His vision tripling for a second. But that's when he sees her. In the second his visions in threes. Three Kate's appear.

"Castle," she whispers with concern laced in her voice as she says his name. More "t" and less "s."

"Kate?" He questions because he has no idea if this a dream as well.

"You need to put some clothes on Castle. I'll get you some aspirin."

"Kate?"

"Get dressed," she says over her shoulder and walks away. The next few minutes blew past him. He doesn't know if he's dressing himself or if he's floating. He can't quite grasp any sort of reality. Consequences of drinking too much logic would say.

When she comes back she shuts off the blinding flashlight on her phone and it helps with his grade A headache bashing against his skull right now. The room isn't as bright as it was anymore and he's oh so grateful.

"Is this real?"

"Am I real?"

"Are you? Am I? Is this really you in my apartment?"

"What do you think?"

She hands him his aspirin and a glass of water. He takes them kindly.

"I can't get you off my mind Kate."

She laughs, a small light chortle bubbling up from her throat. "Obviously Castle." And now it's more "s" than "t" and he likes it. Wants to hear his name like that on her lips all the time. No disappointment or scolding or concern. Just adoration and reverence and hopefully love. One day. She'll love him.

"I'm serious."

"I know." Then she lays her head on his chest and breathes. Deeply. Like she's reluctant to leave. Maybe, hopefully, she is. Because he's still unsure about the authenticity of this actuality.

"Why are you here?"

"You wanted me here."

"How'd you know?"

"I didn't."

"Huh?"

"No time for talking now. Get some rest."

She stands from her position on his chest and walks to his office to get his coffee mug. She carried that and the glass of water to the kitchen and placed them in the sink.

"Goodnight Castle."

And then she's gone.

Haunting me...

When he wakes up in the morning it's as if he's been sleeping for years. All last night feels like a dream. A good, long, confusing dream.

He's in bed, under the covers, and dressed in his usual sleep attire. But there is a glass of water on his night stand. No coffee mug.

His hands are clean. It doesn't feel like he masturbated last night.

No scotch bottle on the floor.

He gets and checks the kitchen. The mug he had last night is placed happily in the cabinet.

He feels like he's losing all logic he once possessed in his mind.

I'm already there, I'm already there. Wherever there is you, I will be there too.

He finally finds the courage to check his phone. He knows the only way Kate came over is if he called her. Otherwise why would she? She's already been ignoring him for two months.

He goes to his missed calls. Nothing. No new texts either.

But he goes to his messages between him and Kate anyway. He sent her something.

I miss you too

So what was a dream and what was real?

Leave a review!