For those of you waiting on my CSI:NY story, don't worry, I haven't given up on it. I just needed to get this one out there!
Sleep never came easily for her.
Katherine Beckett was lying alone in bed, eyes closed and body relaxed. She was asleep, for all intents and purposes, but her senses continued to remain highly tuned to the night time sounds around her – an inevitable result of her profession as an NYPD homicide detective. She had seen too much of the gray shades of humanity and gotten herself into too much danger over a course of a relatively short period of time to willfully let her guard down. Perhaps it was for this reason – or possibly it was because of an intuition inside of her, something that invoked her irrational sleeping schedules that all cops obtain – that her instinct raised its hackles and her stomach knotted before she even heard the almost inaudible click of her front door unlocking.
Her hazel eyes shot open in the darkness and she registered everything in an instant: the careful creak as her front door was pried open, the thumping footsteps belonging to a person who was moving quickly and quietly, the whispers of cautious breathing of her intruder as he or she advanced past her kitchen and into her living room.
The wood of her bedside drawer slid soundlessly as she drew out a gleaming .9 millimeter Glock, the standard weapon issued to all NYPD detectives. Sheets were pulled back as she ghosted out of her bedroom, her hand wrapped firmly around the handle of her gun, resting by her side. Leaning her back against the cool, beige colored wall of the hallway, she felt the cold from leaving her bed tingle her spine and bare shoulders, making her slightly shiver as the drafts from the air conditioning wormed its way through her tank top and sweatpants.
She could see her intruder now. A dark silhouette juxtaposed against the dim outlines of her living room furniture. He was standing straight in the middle of the room, glancing around with a confident, almost cocky air. If it wasn't for the sudden, ringing strike of the hammer clicking against the barrel, he would never have noticed her presence. He whipped around; his back muscles tensed and arms raised above his head in a surrendering motion.
"Don't shoot! It's me!" implored a voice that she recognized immediately – a voice that managed to unhinge her in seconds. It was only voice that could verbally spar with her and win.
"Castle!"
In an instant, she had put aside her weapon and flew into his arms, twining her arms around his neck like climbing ivy and pulling him tightly towards her. She was hugging him so forcefully he couldn't breathe. Not that he was complaining – he was embracing her just as tightly. Castle closed his eyes and crushed her against him, breathing in the drugging smell of her cherry scented shampoo, relishing the feel of her body pressed up against his.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Phoenix!" she exclaimed, drawing back slightly to hold him at arm's length, her hands wrapped around his biceps.
"I just got back an hour ago." Castle gave her that charming, boyish grin that would stop half the female population in their tracks, hoping that, for the first time, it would work its magic on her. Kate merely lifted up an elegant eyebrow.
"I wanted to surprise you." He shrugged, causing his partner to cross her arms reproachfully and tilt her head in amusement.
"You do realize it's two in the morning," she mentioned.
He lifted his arms in a weak attempt at a theatrical flourish. "Surprise!"
She rolled her hazel eyes in vexation but a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "I gave you that key for emergencies."
"This is an emergency," he said solemnly, sobering up. "I wanted to see you."
She softened, her body language signaling a soft gentleness rather than am exasperated annoyance. "I wanted to see you, too," she said, sincerity shining through her words.
This time it was Castle who leaned forward and embraced her, folding her into his arms as easily as if their bodies had grown used to each other. She fitting her head in the crook of his neck, smelling the airport spritz of cologne on his blue button-down. She's missed him. More than she wants to admit.
"How're the others?" Castle asked, both of them pulling back from each other but still relatively close.
"They're all doing fine," she reassured him. "What about you?" She has noticed the shadows brushing under his eyes like currents and the way his words dripped with lethargy.
"Fine. Jetlagged, but fine." He sat down on her couch and fought the way his head leaned toward the plush arm of the furniture, attempting to ignore try how restful it would feel to have the supple support of a pillow snug against his head.
Kate began walking toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee?"
"Do you have any beer?"
She smiled and pulled out two beers from her nearly empty fridge. She was absolutely hopeless on stocking her fridge with the necessary fruits and vegetables for a healthy meal but since she was used to eating a quick bear claw and protein bar as a lunch, she had given up on the idyllic concept of three home-made meals a day long ago. She did, however, ensure that she had at least some kind of drink stashed, no matter how deserted her fridge was. A bad habit but a necessary one.
"Here you go," Kate sat next to him, legs crossed, as she handed over a Samuel Adams. They both popped the cap and she watched as he took a long swig from the green tinted bottle.
"How was the book tour?"
Castle leaned back and propped up his legs on her coffee table. "Tiring. St. Louis was humid so I was sweating all day. Phoenix was miserable. The thermometer was set to 'hell' the whole time," he joked, eliciting a laugh from Beckett.
She studied him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he was struggling to contain a yawn and look alert at the same time, how he was trying to rub the sleep off his face for the sake of having a conversation with her. She set down her drink and beckoned him over, patting her lap. "Come here."
Castle crawled towards her and laid down his head on her lap, his muscular frame too tall for her couch, making his feet dangle at the end. She brushed a strand of dark hair away from his eyes, her fingers sleeking over his skin like waterfalls.
"You're being awfully accommodating." Castle murmured, his breath leaving his body in a soft whoosh.
"Thought I'd cut you a break," she smirked, bending over his head so close that the ends of her chestnut curls brushed his skin.
He skimmed open an eyelid, gazing at her with such contentment she almost looked away. She didn't deserve him but, damn it, if she wasn't willing to keep him.
"Anything happen while I was away?" Castle asked casually. "Get into any trouble?"
She hesitated. If he had been more alert, perhaps more awake, he would've noticed how her arms suddenly stiffened, how her back became tense, and how she took more time than necessary to answer his question. She opened her mouth but her throat seemed stuffed with cotton balls, unexpectedly dry and parched. How could she answer this seemingly innocent question without raising Castle's concern? How could she answer at all?
Three weeks ago
The wound was deep, spurting blood that stained her fingers and clothes a deep crimson. Placing a hand over it, she tried to quench the flow but it did no good to help the gaping tear in her abdomen. Blood dripped onto the carpet – thank god the color was a midnight blue, therefore undetectable once the blood set – as she used the walls of the apartment building to support her doubled over frame.
Her limbs felt leaden, almost paralyzed with shock and blood loss. Already, she could feel herself growing faint, losing control of her motor skills. It was taking all her effort to not collapse right there. The edges of her vision were tinged with red and her head was feeling light headed like she was under anesthesia.
But she was almost there. Almost. She stumbled past the wood painted doors of the units until she finally came to her own. It took her four tries to insert the key into the lock because the ridged appliance kept slipping out of her fingers due to the blood matting them. Finally, she pushed through the door and crumpled onto the couch, breathing shallow and uncontrollable breaths because her lungs felt like they were disintegrating. With trembling fingers, she picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Lanie?" She rasped out. Thank god she was on speed dial, she didn't think she could've handled dialing a ten digit number with her shaking hands.
"Kate, is that you?" Lanie's voice sounded excessively loud to her ears, so much so that she closed her eyes and could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"Come. Please." She croaked. "I'm bleeding... stabbed…"
Lanie didn't waste a second. Within minutes, the ME was barging in through her door, wild eyed and looking worse for the wear from running the last five blocks in slippers. Although Lanie had come here as fast as she could, it had been an eternity to Kate. It seemed like forever until she heard the quick rhythm of footsteps stop outside her door.
"Jesus," Lanie gasped, shocked from seeing one of her strongest friends bleeding like this. Her almond shaped eyes swept over her broken figure, the crimson blood pulsing through her fingers, her chest heaving from the struggle of breathing, her limbs quivering from pure exertion, the pallor marking her face. "What… how…?"
"No… hospital…" Kate choked out, anticipating Lanie's next comment. "I… won't make…it…"
"Kate, what do you want me to do?" Lanie cried dubiously, the shock of seeing her best friend like this setting in. She would bet her medical license that her friend was right; that Kate wouldn't make ten minutes into the car ride – she was bleeding out too fast – but that didn't mean she could save Kate's life right here. "Without proper treatment, you're going to bleed out –"
"Sewing kit," Kate interrupted, inhaling a shaky breath before closing her eyes. "Get a sewing kit. Some rubbing alcohol, too."
"Kate," her voice was hushed with realization that she might have to give stitches, perhaps even perform surgery right here, right now. "Are you sure –"
"Go!"
It took Lanie only seconds to find what she needed before organizing her measly tools on the coffee table next to her. Then she gently pried Kate's hands off the wound and peeled back the blood soaked shirt. She gasped. The wound was deep, a puckered gash with an outline of dried blood around it. So much blood.
"What happened?"
This was the part she hated. The lying part. But she had to. Maddox had threatened to take out her friends if she told anyone and she wasn't going to let them die for her sake.
"Mugged. I-I got mugged." A simple lie that didn't come naturally to her. She had never lied to Lanie, her best friend. Maybe withheld the truth from her on some occasions but never outright lied. "I was… on my way to my car when… someone came and stabbed me. He-he took my wallet."
"Are you going to file charges?" The concern in Lanie's voice rang purely like church bells.
"No." Her cheek twitched as she realized the irony of her chosen lie. A cop getting mugged. Geez, Castle would have a field day with that one. "I just want this to be over."
Lanie nodded in understanding, noticing for the first time the dark shadow on her friend's cheek that guaranteed a nice bruise in the morning once the tissue had time to bleed, the shallow cut that lined her from the edge of her jaw to her chin, the blood from a scalp laceration matting her hair. Lanie hid a smile. Kate had never been one to go down without a fight.
"Hold on. This is going to hurt." Lanie poured the contents of a bottle containing rubbing alcohol onto her wound. Kate choked back the scream the rose in a torrent to her lips as the cavity in her torso seared like a branding iron.
"Do it quick." Kate used as few words as possible to preserve her energy, the white-hot pain in her side blistering as her sense of urgency doubled. "Make it quick."
"Hold on, then." Lanie lit a match and passed a needle through it several times, sterilizing it. "You've got nine lives, girl. The knife missed any major organs."
She said nothing but instead watched as the ME threaded the needle and held it inches away from her wound with one hand. With the other, she handed Kate a throw pillow to bite down on. "Knife wound," Lanie murmured. "Did you fight him? The mugger, I mean."
"Yeah…" Kate gripped the edge of the cushion in pain. "But I couldn't… hold him off… haven't slept in three days… living on fumes…" That part was true, she really had been living off of coffee and granola bars because of the mass influx of cases that always accompanied the holidays. It was three weeks till Thanksgiving but already the number of murders was steadily rising. She had stayed behind after the others to finish off some paperwork. A nearly fatal mistake, she realized now.
"Make sure to go to the hospital after this," Lanie reminded her. The ME plunged the needle in and Kate gasped as a knife hot pain gutted her from the inside out. "Didn't Gates tell you to go home?"
"Just wanted to wrap up a case," Kate wheezed out. She could feel Lanie probing the wound and it hurt like a bitch. She added for good measure, "Castle was right."
Lanie washed out the wound with more alcohol and warm water and inquired, "Do you want me to call Castle? I'm sure he would cut his tour short –"
"No!" she cried out, a single word that hung in the air between them like a ghostly fingerprint. "It's not his fault… got mugged… my fault…" She stared up at the ceiling, already feeling her strength waning. "I'm not gonna… ruin his tour… I'm fine, anyway. Really…"
Lanie gazed at her best friend, sympathy and understand evident in her warm brown eyes. "Castle would take care of you. He would do anything for you."
Kate looked at her, eyes so full of pain and hurt. If she told anyone the truth of her attack, Maddox would kill them. She knew that as a fact. "Don't you think I know that?"
Kate took a slow sip from her beer and then lowered it, feeling the weight of her words burn up her throat and tumble out of her mouth. "Nothing. Nothing happened at all."