Okay, Just about every story I've ever posted on here has been somewhat AU. However, I feel this one definitely takes the cake. For this to work, I've taken a lot of extreme liberties. And slightly altered history, haha. First, for the sake of this story, the Russian Revolution did not happen in the early nineteen hundreds, but the Romanov family continued to rule until it fell in 1991. I'm also severely changing Beckett's background, and while I try to explain away some of the differences, please remember that this is fiction and try to apply you imagination. :) I've had this idea in my head for a while and I'm rather interested to hear your thoughts, so please review. They make me smile. And motivate me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, no matter how much I wish I did.

Prologue

The nightmares were back. Not to say that she wasn't having nightmares already, her recent shooting leaving her more vulnerable than she'd ever admit, but these, these were different. A unique brand of horror on their own, now after mingling with her newest dreams, they morphed into something truly terrifying.

Kate slowly slipped from the bed, untangling herself from the sheets as she did so. Her sweat drenched body demanded a shower and she was happy to oblige. Peeling away her pajamas, Kate paused at her reflection. Her eyes were drawn to her chest and she fingered the bullet scar that rested there. Her gaze then shifted lower down her abdomen, settling on the mark that was present.

This scar was longer, but still pretty small. It was amazing that with new technology, a scar from heart surgery could be so tiny. She didn't stay focused on it too long, though, her mind already drifting to the location of the next one. There, on her right side, just above her hip, was what she was searching for. The horizontal scar that sat there was the longest one, and Kate could still feel the pain of her skin slicing open, even after all these years.

Suddenly the bathroom faded away, darkness closed in before moving out again, leaving her a vision filled with horror. He was there in front of her, a wide piece of glass in his hand. She hurt everywhere, having been thrown one too many times. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe. Soon he was over her, a slight smile on his lips as he plunged the shard of glass into her skin. She cried out, a weak howl was all that was left in her. The glass was yanked out. Laughter poured out of the mouth of the man above her at pathetic attempt at a scream. He repositioned himself, this time aiming higher on her body. She couldn't stop the thought from running through her head, can he just kill me now?

Kate stumbled into the shower, blasting the hot water, hoping it would banish those horrible memories. She squeezed her eyes shut, but he was all she could see. She left them open, but then they began playing tricks on her, giving her glimpse after glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. The water became hotter. Surely if it burned enough, she could focus on that. Surely the memories would pale in comparison to physical pain.

The memories kept coming; someone grabbing her hair, yanking her to the ground. Being slammed into walls, tossed onto glass table tops. Punched, kicked, stabbed, shot at. Everything was chaotic, a horrible mess, a sea of people who wanted her dead and would take great pleasure in killing her. It had taken all of her strength to survive this much, surprising her as much as it surprised those after her. However, her latest attacker had chased her to the far ends of the estate and they were relatively alone. And in the split second she had left, as the glass was rushing towards her heart, the man above her intent on making this the final blow, she decided she wanted to fight back. And seeing an opening, she took it.

Kate sat at the bottom of her shower until the water ran cold. Her visible shakes were the only outward signs of her distress, her tears having combined with the streaming water. Finally calming down enough to move, she stood and shut off the water, before reaching for her towel.

The first thing she did upon entering her kitchen was start a pot of coffee. Sleep wasn't an option anymore, despite the ridiculously early hour, and she hoped the warm, pleasant sensation of the coffee flowing through her would help calm her nerves. Kate was actually surprised she had much coffee in her apartment. She'd gotten so used to relying on Castle for her morning dose.

Grasping the hot cup after she fixed it just the way she liked it, Kate shuffled to her couch, curling into it. She looked around for something to lose herself in, something to erase the awful scenes from her head. One of Castle's book had been placed on her coffee table, and she picked it up. She was eager to flip through the pages, enter the world they offered her. Maybe if she delved far enough, the past would cease to haunt her. Kate let the lives of Heat and Rook surround her, dragging her along on their journeys. And for awhile at least, things were okay.