Beckett sat quietly, back against the wall of the industrial freezer and cold seeping in from the floor below. Somewhere in the corner, the motor hummed, lulling her into a false sense of relaxation. She shivered against the frigid metal, her leather jacket and hoodie now void of any warmth.
The icy air meandered around the room, carrying with it the fog and snowflakes which would cause her demise. Her fingers were frail and her exposed fists unfeeling. Shallow breathing caused thin clouds of condensation to swirl about the air. She wondered idly why she couldn't see her partner's.
Struggling against her fate seemed useless now. She knew how this was going to end- and it was going to hurt.
The process had begun hours ago. First, her toes and fingertips. Then, her feet and hands. It had started with the sharp pain, tiny pinpricks reminding her that she still had hope. Next, had come the burn, causing her flesh to redden and eventually itch. Last, but not least was the numbness. It turned her skin a pale blue, and then all feeling had ceased.
All over her body, she was going numb. Inch by inch, it was seeping into her, and she was being consumed. She pulled her shins closer to herself in an attempt to preserve the little heat she had. It was futile, she knew, but she had to try.
Emotionally, Beckett was all but numb. Her heart was in turmoil- her once black and white view of Castle was now unrecognizable, random hues on some unknown canvas. Her heart's battle with itself was slowly killing her, draining her of the already dwindling sensations that she once felt.
Love and hate were using her heart as a battle arena and forcing her to watch. Every few minutes, a new winner would take the podium and promptly be defeated. She was forced to sit back and watch as the crowd began to cheer; only mocking her suffering. Somewhere, her courage was in hiding.
By this point, everything hurt, escalating from a dull ache to an eternal flame. Frigid air burnt her lungs, but her mind refused to give up. She almost wished it would.
The dramatic temperature kept her still, and her rigid muscles stung despite lack of use. Sitting caused sharp pains to shoot up her spine, but even then, she remained motionless.
Castle probably felt the same way, but she couldn't be sure. They had long given up talking, the freezing conditions requiring too much effort. Pushing back against his still frame, she felt nothing. He was probably conserving energy, the detective reasoned.
When she was younger and put on that badge for the first time, she had been full of so much pride. She remembered the day vividly. He father stood over her shoulder, tears in his eyes as he looked upon her in her uniform. For the first time in years, she had seen genuine hope. This was not how she wanted this to end.
She always thought she would die of a bullet wound or, maybe Derrick Storm was getting to her, torture. A bullet was quick, extremely painful, but quick. Death in disguise, her dad had called it.
Torture, well even that had to end eventually. Even since the influence of Castle, she had never considered freezing to death. It was a crude way to die- agonizing and slow.
Resisting a painful yawn, she felt her eyes begin to close. Staying conscious was a challenge. Every breath made her wince in pain. It hurt to live, but she something kept her hanging on. A voice in the back at her screamed at her that help was coming, that she wasn't alone. She hoped to God it was right.
Flashbacks filled her slowing mind- laughter, tears, and smiles. Every criminal and grieving family danced across her thoughts, like a reader scanning a treasured novel. Images seemed to come alive- visions of her past and dreams of her future.
The people they would find justice for, her mother, her father, Castle.
The darkness which had been slowly sneaking up on her and was now, finally, closing in. In the realm of the unconscious she tried to stay alive.