Summary: Post Knockout Oneshot based on the song "A Kiss On the Lips" by Julie Miller.
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or this lovely Julie Miller song.
AN: I've never written a oneshot before. I just couldn't resist this song, I love it so much. I recommend looking it up on youtube or somewhere because the tone of the song is kind of the tone of this fic. And it's a great song.
EDIT *I've gone through and edited a few things a couple of years later. I'm not OCD for nuthin.
xxxx
When the lie comes down like a kiss on the lips,
it's a fragile wire the memory trips
The taste is sweet, but the kiss is unkind,
There's a crawlspace in my head that I find
Fire burns hot, the river runs wild,
and the wind sounds like the cries of a child.
xxxx
He held her hand through it all. Even when her world stuttered and faded to black, she knew he was there. She could taste him, that unique scent of laundry detergent, mint, and pine that was ultimately Castle. He was right next to her the entire time, holding her hand and telling her it would be okay.
It almost killed him, watching her life slip from her green eyes. He could feel her blood pumping beneath his hands from her tired heart, even though he wasn't holding her body together anymore; he was simply holding her hand.
He told her he loved her. And he did. He loved her so much that he would jump in front of a bullet for her. He had tried to do that, but it had been too late.
As the paramedics worked on her in the tiny ambulance, he clutched her hand as if it were his lifeline. He could feel the life running down the veins in her hands, and so he squeezed it tighter.
"It'll be okay," he whispered, to her and to himself. "We'll both be okay."
xxxx
When she awoke, she called his name.
"I'm here," he assured her, and rubbed the back on her hand with his thumbs.
"I know," she said softly. She'd known all along.
xxxx
He knew it was late, but he couldn't get her out of his mind. He needed to know she was all right. He needed her.
The door was unlocked. He opened it cautiously and took a few timid steps inside.
"Kate?" he called, to no answer. It was then that he heard it, the soft cries of a child. But it wasn't a child; she hadn't been a child in years.
He found her sitting on the floor tiles of the shower, her knees curled to her chest and her wet hair plastered to her face. He almost asked her if she was all right, but then kicked himself. Instead of words, which had always held such power for him, he sank to the floor and took her in his arms as the water ran through his cotton shirt and down his back.
"It's okay," he said again. "You'll be okay." And she believed him.
xxxx
She asked him to stay.
"I don't want to be alone," she said shyly. He could never refuse her.
"You're beautiful," he mused sincerely, and ran his hand down her cheek. She took his hand and trailed it down her neck. He let his fingers trace her delicate collarbone, but then he stopped when he touched her scar. He took a deep, steadying breath and looked into her eyes.
"Does it hurt?" he asked. She looked away from his penetrating gaze.
"Only when I let it." He lowered his head and gently kissed the scar. He trailed his kisses up to her neck, and finally to her lips.
"I love you," he said.
"I know."
xxxx
He found himself back there again, staring at the headstones. She could have been one of those headstones, he knew, but he didn't allow himself to acknowledge it.
He walked over the cold grass, breathing out puffs of air. When he reached the spot where it happened, he stopped for a second. Kneeling to the ground, he finally allowed himself to grieve. It could be her in the ground, he knew, but it wasn't.
The wind picked up his cries and carried them away.
xxxx
He knew it was late, but he couldn't get the image of her lying there, bleeding beneath his hands and words of love out of his mind. He needed to know she was okay. He needed her.
The door was unlocked again. He walked inside, calling her name. Instead of an answer, he got a face. Josh.
"What are you doing here?" the doctor asked him, and he frowned.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. He walked out the door.
She caught him.
"Castle!" she called, and took his hand. He looked down at their enjoined fingers.
"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. He reached up with his free hand to cup her face.
"I know," he said, and brought his lips to hers. "Goodbye, Kate."
xxxx
She could still taste him. It had been days since he had been in the precinct. It had been nights since he had been to her apartment. It had been too long since she last kissed him.
She needed him.
xxxx
He sat in his study, looking out his window into the night. It was black outside, and dark inside the apartment. He couldn't bring himself to call her. He was trying to distance himself. He couldn't take the hurt anymore, the knowledge that she would never choose him.
He couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't go to work at the precinct and pretend they were just partners. He told her he loved her. But she didn't love him back.
He only knew of one thing he could do, if not to save her, then to save his heart.
xxxx
"Where are you going?" she met him at the door.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, effectively avoiding the question.
"I… I needed to see you." I need you.
"Well you saw me." She squirmed under his gaze.
"I'm not good at this," she told him.
"I know."
"I don't like sharing my feelings," she continued.
"I know." She paused then, really looking at him. He held her gaze and tried to convey what words could not.
"I would hurt you," she said timidly, rocking back on her heels. He sighed then.
"You already have, Kate." He almost missed the look of panic she gave him before it was gone, hidden beneath her mask.
"How do I make it better?" she asked him then. He took her hands in his. Slowly and carefully, she leaned into him.
"A kiss on the lips?" He could feel her soft lips quivering against his. He brought his tongue out, running it along the contours of her bottom lip to sooth her.
"How do I know it's not a lie?" he asked then. She froze. He was afraid she'd run, but she just squeezed his hands tighter.
"You held my hand… the whole time," she said. He was silent.
"I knew you were there because you were holding my hand." She raised their hands up then, and pressed her lips against his fingers.
"I'm here, Rick, I promise." She then pulled his head down to hers and kissed him, running her fingers through his hair.
"I love you," she told him earnestly. He smiled.
"It's going to be okay," he said sincerely. "We're going to be okay."
She believed him.