A/N: I haven't written anything in a loooonnggg time, but I had a little moment on the train so i wrote this. i just felt like it. i know its sad and depressing. you guys probably HATE me for not updating the little things, but i really havent had an inkling of time and im at peace with where it is. :) enjoy. ~alice p.s. i wrote this in literally 10 minutes so there are going to be a lot of errors. forgive meeee!
The cameras flashed, the reporters shouted, and Kate Beckett could slowly feel every bit of privacy she ever had fall away. The headlines emerged the next day. It was everything she didn't want. It was all over the metro, New York's daily free newspaper that EVERYONE read. It was everywhere she looked. In the precinct, on the street, even in her own home.
"NYPD DETECTIVE KATHERINE BECKETT SAVES NEW YORK CITY AFTER FIVE MONTHS OF SERIAL MISERY" the headline read.
At first it had been a triumph. Now it was a constant murmuring that followed her everywhere. She was the hero, the face, the covergirl of homicide. The girl who saved a city, all alone. It's not like she couldn't handle it, she could, she remained stoic and perfect when the cameras were on. Even when they were off she has the same air of invincibility. It was only in that little moment when she first opened the door into their empty home that she felt like a scared little girl, up against big bad men and she had no idea how to be anything. The feeling always went away after a second, but for some reason tonight, as she lay there in their bed staring at the ceiling in the soft light coming from the chaos that was the city outside their windows that she couldn't handle it. She just couldn't. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to keep it all inside. Tonight, though, her insides refused. They rebelled.
She felt everything she'd repressing come flooding back. He was gone, he was never coming back. Never. Sobs wracked her body, her heart seemed to literally stop as she remembered him. Now that she had started she could not stop. The memories came flooding back, all at once. The nights they'd lie tangled in each others arms, reveling in the feeling of each other. He'd taken apart her wall with such delicacy and finesse she'd never even noticed it was gone until that night. That night. The night they'd emerged from the precinct only to find it pouring. That night she hadn't cared she was getting soaked to the bone. They'd walked aimlessly through the streets, laughing about past suspects until their sides hurt so much they had to stop. The night he'd wordlessly picked her up on the street corner in the dim light of dawn, spun her around, and kissed her. Kissed her was a poor description of what he'd done. The way his lips had crashed down on hers, full of so much fear yet so much hope at the same time. Not a single coherent thought passed through Kate's mind that night. She just clung to him as if he was life itself, burying herself in him. He felt her press herself closer to him and all the fear of rejection washed away. They must've stood there for 10 minutes, just feeling the pain and joy of four years pass between them over and over again. It was everything they'd ever wanted, and when they finally broke apart their faces contained the same expression. It was as though all the emotions they'd ever felt had been twisted into one moment of ecstasy. The shock of perfect took them over. They were still blocks away from his apartment, and they walked and kissed at the same time, tripping over their own feet. Two solitary figures seemingly permanently meshed together. Both felt they could never let go. That night, they didn't.
They tumbled out of the elevator, spinning around until they crashed into his door. They almost forgot they weren't inside his apartment until a neighbor coughed extremely loudly returning with laundry from the basement. They were both feeling to much to be embarrassed, and they tumbled inside his apartment. He kicked the door closed with his foot, and they crashed around his apartment before finally making it to his bedroom. The way they'd felt that night. It was like a treasure had been revealed to them for just a second, but now they needed it every moment for the rest of their lives. The feeling of-
Kate stopped herself. What was she doing? The sobs overtook her again as the memory faded and reality came crashing back. Through blurry tear filled eyes she punched their headboard. She vaguely heard her pinky snap but she felt nothing. Only the pain of his absence. Why did he have to be gone? Why? She'd loved him more than life itself, but she'd been left with life, not him. It wasn't fair. Why? Why did the serial killer have to be a serial killer? Why did he have to go after him? Laughter tumbled out. Sobs and laughter became one as she thought about the fact that his death is what caused her "victory." He would've teased her about her correct use of irony. She would've laughed. He would be here. He would be there. He couldn't be gone. It was impossible. She stumbled to the bathroom and saw only a single toothbrush in the cup. There should be two. Right there. The twin ones they always laughed about. She sank to the floor. She remained there until morning, where she once again forced all the memories away. To all she was fine. The warrior that was Detective Beckett was still intact. When she returned home that night and she felt the pain threaten to beat her again, she turned on her heel and walked out the door. The bartender looked at her with a special kind of pity.
"What's 'is name swee'eart?" Kate looked up with empty eyes.
"Rick. His name was Rick."
I was gonna write something fluffy, but this came out. PLEASE tell me what you think. I adore reviews more than ice cream. that's saying a lot. :)