Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.

She hurries, runs, rushing along the long white corridor, following the paramedics that push the gurney on which he is lying. Her heart is pounding in her ears. There are people everywhere, but their faces are a blur. The fluorescents hanging equally spaced from the ceiling become a single white line of light as she races to keep up with the paramedics' pace. They push open the double doors, and these start to close but she crosses through, and...

Someone grabs her, stopping her with a rough jerk, throwing an arm in front of her. She begs, yells for them to let her go, she needs to go…

It's much later; she has managed to sneak out of the crowded waiting room. For half an hour she has been leaning against a wall, sitting on the cold floor, curled up in a tight ball, with her elbows on her knees, and her forehead pressed into her hands, waiting alone in an empty corridor. Every time she closes her eyes, horrible images of him covered in blood project against the inside of her lids.

Suddenly the doors open and a surgeon in green scrubs walks towards her; she stands up. His face is somber, his steps are hesitant, his hands twist the ends of his surgical cap, and his words…

No! She shakes her head, her hands start to tremble, tears are pooling in her eyes. No.

The words echo in her head. They are the words no one should ever hear.

He's gone.

He's gone.

He… is gone.

She can't breathe, her lungs shrink, a lump tightens her throat. A sharp pain stabs her heart. Everything begins to spin around her. She's falling at a vertiginous speed. Her vision clouds, everything turns black…

Barely a second has passed, or maybe it has been hours. She feels disorientated. She opens and closes her eyelids but sees nothing; she's surrounded by complete darkness. A thin sheen of cold sweat coats her skin. A shiver runs down her spine, her whole body shudders slightly. Her heart is racing inside her chest, and her breathing is shaky and shallow. She can feel the wet trails that silent tears have left on her cheeks, and she can't stop new ones from falling. As her eyes adjust, shapes start to take form in the dark; familiar shapes like the beams on the ceiling, the lamp beside the dresser, curtains and a window. She's home, in her bed, but she's not alone. She hears deep, rhythmic breaths right next to her. And it's the sound she knows better than anything else. When she turns her head, he's there with her. A sigh of relief escapes from her lips. It had been a dream. It had all been just a dream.

She rolls onto her side, and simply stares at him as her frantic heartbeat comes down from its high. In the dim room, she studies the vague planes of his peaceful face. A short lock of hair has fallen over his forehead, casting a soft shadow between his brows. She scoots closer, and, careful not to wake him, she rests her head on the crook of his shoulder. In his sleep, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. She traces the line of his jaw with her fingertips and lowers her hand to his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath. The steady and strong beating of his heart under her ear lulls her back to sleep, her eyes close, and, surrounded by his warm and familiar scent, she sinks into a deep and peaceful sleep.

They have closed the door of the conference room, and they have shut the blinds so no one can see, but the thin walls and windowpanes cannot prevent half the precinct from hearing them.

"Castle, go home. You are off the case," she orders in a sharp cold tone.

"But Beckett-"

"No! These guys are dangerous. Ryan almost died yesterday trying to save Esposito's life! God, it could have been you!"

During an unexpected raid, the detective had sacrificed himself for his best friend, jumping in front of him to intercept a bullet that was aimed at Esposito. Castle had been standing just feet from both men.

"We have done this a hundred times. It's not going to be like-" he starts to exclaim.

"No!" she yells. "I need to focus on the operation, and to do that I need you far away from there." She pauses for a second, taking in a deep breath as she collects her thoughts, when he opens his mouth again to argue some more. "How can you be so damn stubborn?!" she screams, her face contorted in exasperation.

Angry tears start to roll down her cheeks as she shouts at him. Her mind fills with the images of Ryan lying on the ground with his shoulder bleeding, the chaos in the hospital, Jenny's desperation as they waited for news on Ryan's condition. All the feelings from yesterday's shooting, plus the memory of the dreadful dream from earlier that morning rush out to seize her. The weight of the emotions is pushing her to release everything out. And she doesn't fight it; instead she uses it to her advantage.

"I hate it!" she hisses, her hands closing into fists.

"Hate what?"

She starts to pace, running a hand through her hair, and a frustrated groan leaves her mouth. All doors have opened inside her, and, no longer caring about maintaining her facade of composure, the words escape from her lips.

"I can't stand the feeling. Depending on you like this… We are tied in a level I can't control, and all I think about is you, your well-being, you being safe… You never leave my mind!" she growls through clenched teeth, looking up at him with an angry face. Her vision is blurred with the tears streaming from her eyes.

He moves closer to her, putting a hesitant hand on the side of her neck, before pulling her into an embrace. She steps back, shoves him in the chest, pushing him away.

"It hurts," she whimpers. He wraps his arms tightly around her; she resists for a second, and then she gives up and hugs him back, pressing her face into his shoulder.

"I'm right here, Kate. I'm not going anywhere," he whispers softly.

"I need you so much," she murmurs more calm. "I need you like I need air to breathe, like I need my heart to beat." Another sob forms in her throat, but she swallows it down. "You are constantly in my head, in my thoughts, in every cell of my body. And it scares me to death that the future of my own existence is in your hands," her voice breaks.

"Welcome to my life for the past four years," he says softly in her ear, his tone laced with sarcasm, and kisses her head, and then murmurs in her hair. "I know it can hurt, Kate. But this is how we know it's real… This is love…, love in its most pure and raw form."

I really, really hope you liked it. Thank you very much for reading :)