A/N: All mistakes are mine.

"Wow, Beckett, you look…" Castle stares, amazed by the vision that greets him when the door swings open.

He sees her freezing up for a moment, looking down to her feet and swiping at imaginary wrinkles. There is a tinge of uncertainty to her voice when she speaks, the barest hint of a tremble and a slight lilt in her tone that clues him in on her anxiety.

"It's not too…"

"Beckett, you look gorgeous," he cuts in, reassuring her despite not understanding where her doubts stemmed from. She's wearing a black, floor-length halter dress, devoid of any embellishments except for the row of sparkly jewels around her neck. Simple yet elegant, she looks truly beautiful in the dress.

Her eyes cut up to meet his and a second later the faintest kiss of pink dusts along her cheeks. She quickly turns away, murmuring something about grabbing her purse but one glimpse is all Castle needs to store that image of Kate Beckett blushing in the recesses of his mind.

He waits patiently as she locks the door, offering her the crook of his elbow on a whim.

"Castle, I-"

"Humor me?" He smiles, going with the feeling in his gut. His heart flutters rapidly, like that of a hummingbird.

Castle is about to rescind his offer, give her an out - maybe his gut is toying with his heart - and he almost open his mouth to speak, but-

Beckett rolls her eyes at him, and, to his surprise, relents by tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow. He doesn't comment on the small grin that graces her face. After all, a matching one is plastered on his as well.

Beckett worries the jewels on her dress, staring out the window. She's not wearing her mother's ring tonight, and she's bothered by how much its absence is bothering her. Castle is on the phone with his publicist, who seems to be giving him a briefing on the evening. They are currently in Castle's town car, heading for the NYPD Widows' and Children's Benefit Fundraiser.

They had closed a case just hours earlier, and Beckett hadn't even planned to attend the fundraiser but Captain Gates told her "Mr. Castle's friend, Bob, the Mayor, has kindly requested your attendance this evening. I'm sure it would be Mr. Castle's pleasure to escort you there. Pose for pictures and give interviews together, it'll be great for the NYPD's public perception." Beckett could practically feel the new captain rolling her eyes and she barely refrained from doing so herself.

Sometimes, she finds her association with Castle an annoyance. Irrationally, she blames him for forcing her out of her comfort zone. Barely two hours ago, she nearly suffered from a total breakdown because she couldn't find anything appropriate to wear.

She's still recovering from her shooting and while there has been a vast improvement from merely months ago, she is still far too thin. Her collarbones are too prominent, her shoulder blades protrude too much, none of her clothes fit well, but most importantly, the garish pink scar on her chest stares angrily back at her in the mirror no matter what she wore.

She had cried for a full five minutes after putting on the black halter dress. Beckett still doesn't know if it was from the pent up frustration or absolute loathing of her own body or even the sheer relief of finally finding something to wear, but something just shattered inside her and the tears came pouring out.

Beckett shakes her head to clear her thoughts. She still feels… fragile and it doesn't do well to dwell on such thoughts.

Turning her head slightly, she sees Castle's profile in the edge of her vision. She's got to admit, he cleans up nice. Not so much ruggedly handsome anymore, she'd never admit to missing the scruff from his wilder days, but the polished look he's currently sporting suits him well.

He hangs up and Beckett quickly looks ahead, trying to act nonchalant and not at all like she has just been sneaking glances at him.

"Hey, so Paula says it's more of a photo op line up with only one or two reporters that might want to interview us," Castle tells her.

"Interview us? Don't you mean you? Castle, I'm not some arm candy for some puff piece or blurb Paula wants you to do." She doesn't know what made her say that to Castle.

She can still see the hurt in his eyes as he quickly back pedals.

"No, of course not. I mean, if anyone asks I'll tell them we're attending as partners and then segue into talking about the Widows' and Children's Benefit. It'll be nice if someone asks you a question and you can talk about your side of things as someone who actually serves and protect our city."

Beckett hesitates. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Paula says there's only one or two interviews, I promise. And any time you feel uncomfortable I can just… find a way for you to excuse yourself. I've got your back, partner."

"Alright Castle, thanks," she says gratefully.

He gives her a soft smile, too much and not enough all at once.

"Always."

From the moment the car doors open, Castle and Beckett are faced with an onslaught of flashing bulbs going off. Cameras click furiously away and Castle tries to escort Beckett to the line of people heading indoors.

"Castle I can't- how are you not blinded by this?" She mutters behind him.

An aide tells them where to stand and pose for the first round of photos. "Why do you think I played up the ruggedly handsome image? Sunglasses were a lifesaver," he whispers, before turning to give the photographers a smile.

They pose for a few seconds and then move down the line, giving a brief interview together.

Castle is used to the routine, posing easily for photos and charming the reporters while giving witty, PR type answers. Nonetheless, he still remembers how overwhelming it can feel and subtly checks on his partner to see how she is faring.

Beckett has gone stiff beside him. The tension in her shoulders and stance seem to roll off in ever increasing volumes with each passing moment. He notices the slight crease between her eyebrows, how she's squinting ahead and blinking frequently, tensing up each time another flash goes off in their periphery.

There's a row of interviews going on further down the line before the second photographer's box comes up, but the first photographer's box is to their left and they are still busily taking pictures of the new arrivals. Castle subtly tries to angle his body and shield Beckett from the distracting lights. It works for a while and Castle quickly wraps up the interview.

He places a hand on her back and gently guides her down the line, asking softly, "How are you holding up Kate? We can just skip the second interview and photos, head straight in if you want."

Her body is humming with energy, practically vibrating from the tension. Castle almost makes up his mind right then and there, but she finally answers his question.

"No, it's okay. You're good with interviews, your words help."

Help?

Help what? Tonight's benefit? Help her?

"One more interview, then we go in."

He can tell she's being stubborn for the sake of not showing any weakness. Beckett has been more adamant to protect her pride and prove something – prove what? That she is still the best? – after she returned from her shooting.

He will not call her out right away, he knows it will only make matters worse, but Castle is ready to step in at any moment if it gets too much. They arrive in front of the second reporter and Castle pastes on his smile and starts going through the motions once more.

Castle realizes too late his mistake when Beckett begins taking more rapid, shallow breaths. He still has his hand on her back so he picks up on the change immediately.

Castle is still standing to her left, which leaves the right side of her view wide open… to the flashes coming from the second photographer's box.

He quickly finishes his answer, continuing before the reporter can ask the next question, "I'm terribly sorry to cut the interview short here, but I've just remembered we're supposed to check in with Detective Beckett's team with something regarding a case. It's quite time sensitive, so if you'll kindly excuse us, we're going to do just that."

They leave the reporter and Castle hurries her past the line of guests having their pictures taken.

"Kate, you with me? Kate, just breathe, okay? Deep breaths, in and out."

"Can't- Castle I can't- Cas-" she breaks off on a shallow gasp, still having trouble breathing.

"You're safe, Kate. It's over, just- breathe, Kate."

They finally make it indoors and Castle leads her into a corridor away from the foyer and the few staff standing around.

"Bright. Castle, can't see- why?" Her face is pale with absolute terror and she is shaking against him, he feels her sweat stained back through her dress.

Castle pulls her into his chest, tucking her head down in an attempt to shield her from the lights. She's showing all the signs of a panic attack.

"Kate, you're safe. It's okay, it's over now, just try to focus on breathing. Can you hear me Kate? Just try to match your breathing with mine." Castle's voice reaches her but they sound muffled, like she is being held underwater.

She can't really hear him, neither can she breathe properly, but thankfully the blinding lights are now gone. She buries her face deeper against his chest as her heart gallops and trips, feeling as though it is going to burst at any moment.

She feels Castle exaggerating his breathing, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath in and out. She tries to match his breathing, but she stutters and falters all too often.

Frustration battles with the clawing panic within her chest. Why? Why must her body betray her so? She hears sniffling, realizing belatedly it's coming from herself. She's crying but can't do anything about it. Trying to breathe as her throat seizes up is already taking up all her effort.

After a while, she finally feels like she's beginning to gain control over her labored breaths. Castle murmurs words of encouragement the whole time, guiding her to breathe normally once again.

Eventually she is able to hear his exaggerated inhales and exhales. The pounding in her chest diminishes and she stops shaking.

Castle continues talking to her until finally she takes a long drag of clean air, followed by another. And another.

She feels safe here, tucked into his embrace. His voice in her ear, the rumblings from his chest matching the cadence of his speech, his scent surrounding her.

Now that her ordeal is over, Beckett feels the flood of embarrassment rushing in to replace the absolute fear that had crippled her just moments ago.

Beckett slowly pushes off his chest, swiping at the tear tracks under her eyes. "Castle, god, sorry, I didn't know where that… Oh no, I've ruined your suit. I'm so sorry for every-"

"Here," he cuts her off softly, holding up a handkerchief. Satin. Clean. Stark against his fingers.

A strangled laughter bubbles up and breaks free. Of course he'd have a handkerchief on him. She thanks him and uses the handkerchief to dab at her face.

She tucks it into her purse when she is done, saying, "I'll return it after I clean it. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he tells her. "Kate... I don't mean to intrude, but has this… has this happened to you before? It's just… you might want- you can get- it's okay to get help if it's a recurring thing." His words trip out, one in rapid succession after the other, and she can tell he's worried he's crossed a line.

"I know," she tells him quickly. "I've never… I mean, you saw me… freeze up on the first case we worked after I returned, but I didn't realize my…" Kate clears her throat and continues. "I… there was something similar when I was recovering at the cabin. We had glass wind chimes and sometimes the sun hits it just right but the glint catches me unprepared and- well, dad took it down after the second day. But I got better and had him hang it back up by the end of the month. It's never happened since. Tonight I… I thought I was just unprepared for all the flashes, you know, but then it-"

She cuts herself off.

It reminded her of the feeling of being under attack. She was brought back to her own shooting. The subsequent nightmares of an unknown sniper taking out her loved ones instead.

But how does she explain that feeling of absolute terror when she's told Castle she doesn't remember anything after getting shot? How does she explain the panic over hearing his confession as she bled out, unable to do anything as she slowly died?

Great, now she has an additional issue to bring up with Dr. Burke at their sessions. She really didn't need to add the return of her panic attacks to her list of baggage, but she knows it must be done. Her progress is slow, painstakingly so, but she knows it will be worth it in the end.

Castle finally breaks the silence. "Well, like I said earlier, I've got your back."

"Thanks, Castle. Really. You're- I'm lucky to have you in my life," she admits, trying to convey her sincerity and gratitude. She looks him in the eye, giving her first real smile all evening. "And, well, I've got your back too. Partners."

A/N: So after 8 years, our beloved show has come to an end. Caskett will live on in fanfics and in my heart. Always. Thank you for letting me be a part of the Castle fandom.