A/N Thank you to RobotRainstorm for the prompt ... and the nagging.
Bruised, Not Broken
Sleep eluded Rick. Not that he had any desire to sleep. No—not with the remarkable, frustrating and incredibly lovely Kate sprawled out next to him on his bed. He grinned.
"I'm going to be looking at that smug face for weeks, aren't I?" Kate rolled her eyes.
"Yes." Rick tucked his hands behind his head. "And you'll love every moment of it."
"I forgot how egotistical you can be."
"Only when I'm right."
She rolled, slugged him on the arm, then tucked her head into his shoulder. When he settled an arm around her, she sighed and went under.
Kate had been wrong though, all those years ago. You have no idea. Yeah, he kinda did. The sex had been every bit as mind-blowing and fun as he'd anticipated. He'd never expected her to fall easily into his bed. What he didn't know then was how she would tangle his heart up and make him so much more than he'd been before.
I almost died, and all I could think of was you.
He shifted so he could hold her with both arms—and wondered exactly how close she'd come.
By morning, he knew.
"******"
The faint light of morning dancing around the edges of the blackout shades in his bedroom highlighted a story written across Kate's body. Dark marks scored her back and shoulders, shadows in the form of thumbprints on her throat. Skinned knuckles and fingertips added to the unnerving picture. From this angle, he could see her surgery scar—not the neat hole that would forever mark her heart, but the slash along her rib cage that still radiated an angry red.
His imagination ran askew.
Inadvertently, he tightened his grip as the myriad of possibilities flickered in his head. Kate squeaked. Not the good kind of squeak. She came awake all at once then pressed a hand to her ribcage over her scar.
"Castle," she moaned. That one wasn't the good kind either.
"Kate. You're hurting."
She nodded. "I need … oh—" A tear tracked down her cheek.
"What do you need?" he urged.
"Pain meds. In my jacket."
The jacket was conveniently on the floor, and water only a few steps away in the bathroom. With the shades open while Kate drank down the pills, Rick could see the full extent of the damage she'd taken—including the bruise darkening on her chest.
After that, all Rick could do was hold her while the medication kicked in. When it did, her whole body unknotted.
"Damn it, Kate. What happened?"
She drifted a little on the haze, but mostly focused with a sad smile. "Javi and I caught up the guy. We found Montgomery's papers. While we were looking through them for clues, the bad guy got the drop on us. Took out Javi and the hotel manager. I chased him to the roof."
"He kicked my ass, Castle, and I—we fought, I tumbled to the edge of the roof. He left me there. Hanging by my fingertips nine stories in the air." She shuddered as she turned her hands over to look at the raw marks. "I should have died. I thought I heard you calling for me. But it was Ryan. He went to Gates, brought in a backup team. They must have been right behind us because he caught me as I fell."
The image scared the bejesus out of Castle. "Gates must have been pissed."
"Yeah, you could say that. She put Javi on administrative leave."
"What'd she do to you?"
"She tried to do the same, but …"
"But what?"
"I resigned."
Since 'duh' and 'huh, what' were too stupid to say out loud, Rick quipped, "Now how am I supposed to write the next Nikki Heat novel if my muse changes jobs?"
She laughed. "I don't know, Castle, be creative."
"Why, Kate? Why now?" She heaved a sigh as she sat up—a very pretty heave that served as major distraction. He had to force himself to concentrate on something other than her breasts.
With a finger stroke to his cheek—concentrate, Castle—she said, "I've lived my whole adult life for my mother. She's not my future. You are."
He got it. "So you resigned. And maybe you'll go back. But maybe you won't. Whatever you do now—is for you."
Kate smiled. God, she was beautiful, all lit up with wonder and brilliance. "You do get it."
"Always. Now answer a question for me."
"Okay."
"How in the hell did we have mind-altering sex last night when you can't hold your arm over your head today?"
"I was distracted?"
"Apparently." His gaze wandered downward again. "And so am I."
"Good."
The warmth that was Kate Beckett rose up, surrounded him, infused him, and loved him. You have no idea.
Perhaps not then. But he does now.