In Your Darkness I Am Found

AN: I've been on a bit of a self-imposed hiatus from FanFiction in favour of graduating uni. However, all my assessment is done and I'm back with a random little one shot that has been on my mind for months. Please review!

The First Night

Beckett wakes. She's not disorientated so much as shrouded by a sleepy sense of unfamiliarity. There is darkness surrounding her on all sides. The slim light from the moon lost in the bulk of Castle's drapes. She can just make out the dim form of her hand as she extends it above her head in a careful stretch, her joints stiff with use. She can tell it's late – or perhaps early, a matter of perspective that doesn't really matter. Her throat aches. It could be from the tears, the rain, or the strain of shouting out the name of a man who doesn't come. It's probably a combination of the three. Besides, it doesn't matter that Castle didn't come – she came to him and it's about damn time that she did. Nonetheless, the point remains, it's pitch black and she needs to pull herself from Castle's arms – momentarily – in search of water to ease the dryness tugging her away from blissful slumber.

His breathing remains even as she carefully extracts herself. Good. She doesn't want to catch a glimpse of a flicker of fear in his gaze that she won't return to his bed once she leaves it. She's innately concerned that even after this, her coming to him, he will doubt just how much she is in this. She has no intention of running. The time for running ended when her fingertips and the hope that he would come were the only things grounding her to the very surface of the earth. She is here. They are now.

Despite her certainty of her situation, she's blinded by the darkness of the night, literally. She doesn't want to disturb him; she also doesn't want to trip and break her face… or wrist, or ankle… any of the above. Releasing a careful sigh through clenched teeth she runs her hand along the bedside table closest to her, her fingertips stumbling upon a lamp. She internalises a silent apology and flicks the switch.

Castle stirs beside her instantaneously, apparently not the deepest sleeper, or at least not tonight.

"Sorry," she murmurs softly, "I need water." He gestures limply in response –

"Bathroom," he mumbles, eyes still pried shut.

"Thank you," she breathes, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. She doesn't need to see his eyes to know that they match the smile his lips curve into at her touch. Even asleep Castle's joy is infectious, his whole face lighting up with the sheer force of it. Beckett feels herself responding to it unconsciously, the knowledge that she is more than merely content with her lot in life in that very instant. Happiness permeates her soul. With the lamp to guide her steps she effortlessly finds the glass beside Castle's bathroom sink, the cool liquid easing her aching throat. It only takes her moments to find her way back into Castle's arms, switching the lamp out and plunging the pair back into darkness.

The Fourth Night

Beckett isn't one to wake during the night. Her job has trained her to sleep when she can. With early morning body drops she's had to make the most of functioning on interrupted sleep and consequently, as a general rule, she sleeps through any night in its entirety when she has the rare opportunity to. So naturally enough, she's already internally cursing herself when she wakes in Castle's bed in the dead of night. She's been here for a few nights now, she feels more confident in the layout, like she can navigate her way through the darkness.

She knows that the door to the bathroom is basically in the middle of the wall to her right. She knows that their clothes are collectively sprawled on the floor in a lopsided pile near the end of the bed. She's secure in her ability to make it to the bathroom without walking into walls in the darkness. She's totally got this.

Or, at least, she thinks she does until her little toe collides forcefully with the doorframe. She exhales a sharp breath and catches a curse before it rolls off the tip of her tongue. Apparently she hasn't quite got Castle's stupid bedroom mapped out in her head. It almost makes her wish she were in her own bed. She'd have no trouble navigating the darkness in her own room. Still, she's in this. That means that she'll inevitably end up spending more time lost in the black maze that is Castle's domain. She's starting to doubt her night vision abilities. She can't disturb Castle by switching the lamp on every time she needs to get out of bed in the darkness of night. That's not practical for anyone. Besides, the brightness of a light in the dead of night is a little too blinding for her to want to deal with.

As she stumbles again on her way back from the bathroom, she concedes defeat and compromises, using the dim light from her phone to guide her steps. As she slips back between the covers and warmth of Castle's embrace she knows that it's worth the interlude to her night time routine to be with him, even in a less than familiar setting.

The Ninth Night

She's spent more than a week's worth of nights curled up in Castle's arms in his home alone. He's caught her cursing and stumbling around his room in the dead of night. The layout of his bedroom a sharp contrast to the familiar contours of her own. He knows that she's been struggling to navigate in the darkness. He's caught a glimpse of the dull beam from her phone more than once. He could have switched on the light on more than one occasion. He didn't. He wanted her to figure it out. Needed her to feel at home in his bed, his darkness.

A place becomes a home when it can be navigated in absolute darkness.

The ninth night she doesn't need a light.

The ninth night Castle knows without a shadow of a doubt that he won't ever wake to the harsh sunlight of morning without her in his arms. She won't run. She's committed to their relationship. She's made his house her home. She's navigated the darkness, only the brightness of their future remains.