Chapter 1

September 2011

For all the thought Castle had put into the apocalypse, he had never expected this.

The day had started well, great even, and he'd leaped out of bed with a smile on his face, his energy renewed after yesterday's… encounter at the book store. Another entire summer with no contact had been heart-breaking. He didn't expect he'd understand Beckett - Kate's - motivation for ensconcing herself away anytime soon, but things were back on track. They were back on track.

Or they had been.

Since he'd seen her, he thought that short term, their biggest hurdle was going to be his return to the precinct and getting Gates onside. Long term, he was already looking ahead intent on taking a battering ram to Beckett's wall.

So no, he hadn't expected an apocalypse, not today. And most definitely not like this. Had he seen the end of the world coming, he would have anticipated something else entirely.

Something big, that was for sure. The idea of the undead roaming the streets of Manhattan, their faces clawed off, their skin rotting, held a little appeal. If he was completely honest with himself, he would have expected a little vampire action too. Maybe werewolves as well, the complete supernatural host breaking into the city's mainstream.

But this wasn't zombies, so he could never have predicted it.

Castle had never expected robots.

The metallic clang that accompanied the squadrons as they made their way through the streets, their pace steady, was the creepiest sound he'd ever heard. It was all the worse for the fact they didn't even walk quickly. They patrolled as if they had all the time in the world; anyone hiding couldn't hide for long, and anyone running wouldn't be able to run forever.

And Richard Castle, making his way from the subway exit along the wide, exposed streets to the Twelfth Precinct for the first time since the beginning of summer, stopping into get Beckett's coffee before joining her at the precinct, was screwed.

July 2011

A book launch party used to be something guaranteed to put Rick in a good mood. This time, however, it was a weighted burden. Not too many years ago he'd seen every event as an opportunity, as man of the hour, to hook up with a beautiful blond. Or brunette, or red-head. He hadn't been fussy.

Today, the lights shone a little dimmer, and the champagne bubbled and fizzed out in the heat wave. This rooftop bar lacked the pizazz of the party at which he'd farewelled Derrick Storm, and if anything felt like going through the motions, this was it.

I'll call you, okay?

Yeah. That had been over two months ago, and tonight he was lonely. Really lonely. For everyone else here, it was just another party. Well, for almost everyone. Alexis had begged off, claiming she needed to research colleges, and Martha had informed him, with her usual bluntness that, "she knew he'd be mopey, and if he wanted to sulk he could, but she'd find a better party with her theater group." A better party, in this case, meant flying to Los Angeles for a week.

Traitors, the both of them.

He didn't blame them.

He'd gone as far as to ask both Paula and Gina to cancel the launch, then begged them to make it as low-key as possible, but neither was willing to budge. And since Castle wasn't willing to tell them the truth, he'd shrugged it off rather than argue the point any further.

But this book was for Roy, and without Kate - Beckett - by his side to honor the man, the night was falling flat. Even Ryan and Esposito had been unable to attend, both on cases. The strangers, however, were having a good time, helped in part by the free flowing booze, and Castle pasted a smile onto his face as he was flanked by his ex-wife publisher, as well as his publicist.

"Good to see you."

"Thanks for coming."

The words dropped like lead balloons as he spoke them, greeting his guests.

"Thank you for coming by."

Hand-shake.

"Lovely of you to make it."

Cheek-kiss.

Paula poked an elbow into his ribs and he grimaced, opening his mouth and forcing his smile wide.

"Can't wait to read your next one," he lied to one of Black Pawn's young upstarts, and he felt, rather than saw, as Gina pursed her lips. The guy - young, sexy, in his twenties, everything Rick had once been and could no longer stand - beamed back at him, apparently unable to hear the lie in the empty words.

"Thanks," he said, his fingers wrapping around Rick's right hand and pumping it up and down with vigor. Castle blinked, resisting the urge to break the man's hand. "I loved this one. Just- the depth. I really feel your characters, you know?"

Castle started to shrug, but, off Paula's look, nodded. "Thanks, yeah. They're pretty real to me, too."

Castle. Get her out of here.

Too real.

Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate.

"Yeah, I'd love to meet the real Nikki Heat someday," the guy continued, and Castle swallowed, the lump in his throat making it impossible to form a response. Would he see her again?

Stay with me, Kate.

She wasn't dead.

Don't leave me, please.

No, she was just... gone.

I'll call you, okay?

He didn't believe it anymore.

She was torturing herself. There was no other word for it. She was making her own life miserable, and she was helpless to stop herself.

Coming up to the cabin had been an attempt to get away from it all; the city, memories of her shooting... and Castle.

Beckett ran the cursor over his name again, selecting the text before exhaling and clicking the mouse elsewhere on the screen.

She was failing.

Failing at healing, failing at getting Castle the hell out of her mind.

Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate.

She shook her head, slamming the laptop shut, but the information from the fan site page remained imprinted on her eyelids. She should be there, at his book launch party. She should be there in a fabulous dress, rendering Castle speechless as she entered the room. Instead, she was here - middle of god-forsaken nowhere.

She was lonely; she missed him, and she missed her old life.

Nothing made sense anymore, nothing, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying - in vain - to quell the tears that were hot against her eyelids. Why was running her modus operandus? Why had she been unable to face Castle when he'd walked into her hospital room, his face lit up with hope?

Words had failed her then, and she was failing herself now.

I love you, too.

She'd whispered it after him, but he was long gone by the time the words left her lips. She'd been left with a heavy sense of shame that had filled her veins as she cried into her pillow, trying to stifle her sobs in an ill-formed attempt to avoid racking her body and ripping her stitches. Josh had come back shortly afterward, and she'd allowed him to change her dressings; she'd lain there immobile and silent as he'd done so, and as he'd brushed a kiss against her forehead she'd managed the only honesty that was left to her.

It's over.

He hadn't tried to argue, hadn't done anything, and all she could think, as she watched his retreating form leave her side, was that the slump in his step was nothing like the weight that had emanated from Castle as he'd walked away.

And now she was paying her penance.

Alone, her father back in the city since last week, Kate sighed and leaned back against the sofa, her head heavy.

Much as she wanted to be back in the city, attending Castle's book launch and begging him for an advanced copy, she needed to stay here. Wobbling steps to get all the way down the steep hill to the lake - three hundred feet away - still meant a rest at the shoreline before she could even think about returning to the cabin. Standing too quickly was still likely to give her a head spin, and moving at anything more than a snail's pace pulled at the scar that burned across her side. Beckett hated to admit it, but she couldn't handle a party right now, any more than she could handle walking across the bullpen in heels.

She swallowed, angry at herself for her self-pitying jaunt.

This wasn't healing. This wasn't what she needed.

Time.

Patience.

Tenacity.

One step at a time, she would get better. She would increase her strength, and become the person she needed to be. She could already walk a steady pace around the lake, where the ground was even.

Worthy of Castle, she would be a cop again, even if that day wasn't today.

And maybe, just maybe, next year she'd be in attendance at the Nikki Heat launch party as more than Nikki's alter ego.

Castle took another sip of his drink as Gina urged him toward the front of the room. She beamed at the crowd as she took the microphone, her usual speech at the ready. "Murder, mystery, macabre..."

He zoned out as she spoke, introducing his novel. "Based on his real life experiences shadowing detectives at the Twelfth Precinct, the characters come alive off the pages-"

At that, he blinked. Alive? Not everyone was alive.

Montgomery would never read this book, and Beckett… if only she would call. Just once. He wanted to know she was okay, just wanted to know that-

He shook his head, unable to lie to himself.

More than know she was okay, he wanted to see her. Hear her. Touch her and taste her, if he was completely honest with himself, and his heart pounded as he heard his own confession again in his head.

Kate, I love you.

He ran a hand through his hair as Gina continued her lines. He needed to chill out. He needed to be in the moment, get through tonight, and then he needed to sleep for about twenty-four hours. He was no good to himself, his family, or to the guys at the Twelfth like this. When it came down to it, he wasn't any help to Kate like this. The book was complete now, finished and appropriately tweaked to pay homage to Roy, and he would throw himself back into the investigation again.

Heat Rises would be released officially in another two weeks, and he'd have an assortment of book signings to attend, but he'd talked Paula down from twenty cities to eight, so the summer lay before him. Hell, maybe he and the boys would break the case, give him a reason to call Beckett, and-

"The man of the hour!" Gina gestured to him, her smile wide, "Richard Castle!"

And the air exploded as a whir of gunshots filled the air.

He blinked as he assessed the situation, trying to locate the source of the sound. He found it soon enough, the expressionless face of the gunman mask-like in its composure. The man shot another lazy round of bullets into the crowd, but if Castle wasn't mistaken, the man was searching for something specific. Someone?

Rick dove down behind the closest table, pulling Gina with him. She didn't stick around, scrambling across the ground in the opposite direction. But there was more cover closer to him so he didn't follow her; searching for some semblance of structure, safety, he could see a door five feet away that offered refuge.

He reached up, trying the handle and finding it locked. Damn. Okay. Breathe. The main exit was here somewhere, if he could just force his brain into action. Since when did a single glass of champagne and a crazed gunman affect his ability to just think his way through a crisis? The screams that filled the air rocked through his veins as the sounds all collided; shrieks, gunfire, falling furniture, the sound of people diving for cover behind the planters and beneath the tables.

Around the corner. The main door was around the corner, and he scooted forward, crawling toward the exit, inching closer to absolution. He crouched now, ready to make a run for it once it was in sight, when a sharp whisper caught his attention and he whirled around, his eyes wide at the sight before him.

There was no way she could look less like a gunshot victim who was supposedly recovering from life threatening injuries.

Leather clad, a gun in her hand, she was standing in the doorway, the previously locked door flung off its hinges, shards of wood showing him exactly how forcefully it had been kicked open. Long hair, longer than he'd ever seen on her, and lighter than it had been in May…

"Castle," she hissed again, and he frowned, still trying to make sense of the woman before him.

"Beckett?" he asked, as he struggled to put two and two together. How was she here? Why? She was an angel, he decided, his brain suddenly fuzzy. He'd been shot, and she was an angel, and-

"Castle, now!" Her arm was outstretched, her fingers beckoning as she extended her hand, offering it to him as she cast a look in the direction of the gunman. "Come with me if you want to live."

A/N: So, here we are… another fic at long last. As usual, Kylie and Jamie were my partners in crime for the beta, and I love them for it. Mistakes are, of course, mine. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.