Stay With Me

By Dana Keylits

Castle had never killed anyone before. He'd never even come close, at least not purposefully. And, although he still believed 3XK was alive, it was the idea of being responsible for the death of another that weighed heavily on his mind. He was justified, would have been justified, so was Kate, and he wasn't about to shed any tears for the man, but it's an awesome responsibility to take another life. One he had no idea he would wrestle with so completely. He didn't know how Kate dealt with it. Because she has killed people, she's watched the lights go out right in front of her, knowing that she was the one who pulled the trigger, who ended that life. That's a lot for one person to carry around with them, but to look at her, she carried it well, for certainly, she'd laid to rest years ago the kind of soul searching he was doing now. She had to have. How could she be a cop with that kind of agony swirling around in her head?

Agony was an apt description for the past 72 hours. After being cleared at the precinct to go home, he and Kate headed here, to his loft. He'd already had security teams sweep the place for listening devices, cameras and the like. They'd found one. In his office, facing his bedroom. He shuddered again with the knowledge that Tyson had watched them together, had watched them making love. How many times had he seen them in bed together? What else had he seen? Had he been in the apartment when they were both here? Did he stand over them as they slept, smugly observing them, perhaps resisting the urge to reach out and strangle them in their sleep? How did they not know they were occupying the same space as a monster?

Castle was again seized by the rage that he'd tempered earlier, for her sake, for their sake, but now, it came unbidden, sweeping over him, consuming him. He balled up his fists involuntarily. Kate must have sensed it, because she reached across the space between them and gently patted his hand.

They were flat on their backs on the bed, fully clothed, except for their shoes, on top of the covers, both of them staring at the ceiling, silent, pensive, wanting to just be. They hadn't said a word since laying down beside one another, both of them, wandering around in their own dark thoughts, aware of the other, needing each other, but not ready to talk.

Alexis and Martha had flown at them when they came through the door, their tear streaked faces an indication of the agony that they, too, had been through. But, Alexis was unusually cold towards Kate, and after they'd explained the events of the night, she'd exploded, directing all of her anger, her fear, her helplessness at Kate. It stunned them all, including Alexis, who had blinked several times after the admonishment came roaring past her lips.

"Alexis, I never believed your dad was a murderer, or a chea..." Kate tried to explain, confused.

Alexis pounced. "I don't care. This is still all your fault." She was standing over them, her hands balled up in tight little fists, her knuckles white with the effort, tears falling freely down her cheeks.

Castle stood up. "Honey..."

"No. Dad, you wouldn't have even been in this situation if it weren't for her! If you hadn't been following her around all this time, you would have never crossed paths with him, and you would have never been a target! You'd have been safe."

"Whoa, okay, time out," He said, forming a T with his hands. "This is not Kate's fault. I'm the one who decided to play cop, okay?"

"She should have stopped you!" Alexis said, turning her eyes to glare at Kate, who was still rooted to her spot on the couch as though involuntarily affixed to the leather cushion. "YOU know better," Alexis said, "You're a cop, and public safety is your job, and you shouldn't have let him!"

"Okay, that's enough, Alexis." Castle declared, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her towards the stairs.

Kate put her head in her hands, stunned by the girls words, but certainly not begrudging Alexis her outrage. Martha sympathetically patted her knee, then stood up.

"Leave me alone!" Alexis yelled, shrugging her father off of her. "I love you, Daddy. But, I, I can't do this." She grabbed her jacket and stormed out the front door.

Martha reached for her coat and purse, "I'll go after her, Richard. She's just very upset. It'll be okay." She held up a palm towards Kate, "It will all be okay."

Kate stood up, hugging her body, pacing back and forth in front of the long windows, not noticing that the morning had already settled into afternoon. "She's not wrong, you know," She said, nibbling on her thumbnail as she side glanced at Castle. "I do know better. I never should have allowed it." She shook her head.

He crossed to her in two long strides and gathered her in his arms. "You tried to stop me, don't you remember? Many times."

She smiled against his chest. She remembered.

He tipped her chin towards him with the tips of his fingers, "I am an adult, Kate. I knew what I was getting into. Alexis knows that, too. She's just scared right now. She'll come around."

Kate circled both arms around his middle and held on. "I hope so."

She could feel his anger, his tension, the fear that still lingered after his ordeal with 3XK, their ordeal with 3XK. She didn't have to look at him to know what was playing through his mind. She reached out and patted his hand after feeling him ball it up into an angry fist. Wanting to calm him, reassure him – reassure herself. But she knew this was going to take time. They had both been injured, and she wasn't referring to the cuts on their faces from the force of the car crash. This was going to hurt inside of them both for a very long time, it was going to visit them in their dreams, haunt them every time one of them had an insecurity about the other. They had come through the worst of it, but Kate was desperately hoping it wouldn't fester inside of them, laying in wait before, when their guard was down, infecting them like a deadly virus, destroying what they've built. She was determined to not let it, but some things were out of her control.

Like Tyson - 3XK. He was out of her control. She needed him to be dead. She hoped he was dead, but Castle's doubts about that lingered in her, too. She refused to verbalize it, not wanting to give it life, but she knew Castle was probably right, that he had slipped away unnoticed and was probably making his way to a new city, a new place where no one would suspect the cherub-faced monster was a killer, and that he would be killing them.

She was going to be looking for him, though. He wasn't going to be able to hide forever. And, when she did, when she hunted him down like the savage animal he was, she was going to put him in the ground for good.

She heard Castle's breathing settle down, and she glanced over at him to observe the measured rise and fall of his chest. He had one arm thrown over his eyes, shielding them from the early afternoon light that was peeking in through the gaps between the blinds and the window, his mouth was slightly open, his face relaxed. Good, she thought. Now that he was asleep, she could let herself fall, too, temporarily relieved of her self-imposed duty to watch over him. She drifted away, the fingers of her right hand lightly resting against the back of his left hand, wanting her space, but needing to feel him, too. She exhaled, trying to force this day and it's trouble from her lungs, so that she could, at the last, just – breathe.

The movement of the bed pulled her from her sleep. At first she thought they were in the middle of a small earthquake, but soon realized the tremors were coming from Castle. His eyes hidden in the crook of his right arm, he was sobbing, weeping. She could see a thin trail of his tears as they made a meandering path down the side of his face and into his ear. His choked sobs echoing off the walls of his darkened bedroom. What time was it? Kate glanced around and noticed that it was already dark outside, it must be close to dinner time, they'd been sleeping for several hours.

She'd never seen him cry before, she'd seen him get misty eyed, impassioned, but never like this. She rolled onto her side, propping her head in her hand, and gently placed the palm of her left hand on his chest. He lifted his arm and looked at her, his eyes raw and red, rimmed with salty tears. He shook his head and shifted his eyes to stare at the ceiling, wiping his nose and mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve. She placed her hand on his face, tenderly wiping the tears from under his eyes with her thumb, first his left, then his right. Then she traced the outline of his lips with the pad of her forefinger. Tears welled up in her own eyes at his vulnerability. There was that look again, that frightened little boy look. It tugged at her heart, she couldn't bear it.

She scooted closer to him, pressing her body against his, wishing the warmth of her could comfort him, provide him with the solace he so desperately needed. He placed his hand over hers as it lay on his chest, then he lifted it to his lips and gently kissed the inside of her wrist. A strangled sob emanating from his throat.

This was killing her, his pain, it was killing her and she wanted to make it go away. She couldn't find any words, though. Even if she'd wanted to say something, the lump in her throat would have prevented it.

He shifted towards her, meeting her eyes, then leaned in and cautiously placed his lips on hers as she ran her fingers through his hair. They kissed, long and slow, their tongues lazily courting, shifting from her mouth to his. He curled his hand behind her neck and pulled, crushing her to him, the deliberate cadence of their kiss not changing, as though keeping time with some unheard metronome, the salt and wet of their tears mingling with their lips, their tongues.

A runaway sob tumbled past Kate's lips and Castle responded by moving his body to lay on top of hers, never allowing their lips to break contact.

She thought her heart might leap out of her chest, so abiding was her love for him, so overwhelmed by their pain, the depth of their collective need for healing and solace.

He tucked his hands beneath her shoulders, their mouths still engaged in a slow, anguished kiss. Then, realizing they needed air, they parted, but only barely. He reached down and tugged at the hem of her black sweater, inching it up, exposing the warm soft skin of her abdomen. She raised herself slightly off the bed so he could pull the sweater up and over her head, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She unclasped her bra and he hooked his fingers beneath the straps, pulling it away from her body. As she reclined against the pillows, he used his mouth to tease one breast, massaging the other with the palm of his hand.

Her eyes fluttered shut as her body responded to his silent touch. Then she made short work of his shirt, nimbly relieving the buttons from their captivity, tossing the shirt to the floor as he pressed his bare chest to hers. They kissed again, languidly, lovingly, their lips and tongues in perfect sync with one another.

They still hadn't spoken a word, neither of them wanting to break the hushed spell that had descended upon them like fog rolling in from the ether. They spoke with their bodies, their eyes, their lips, their hands. This wasn't about sexual release, it wasn't about pleasure, it was about need, about healing, their bodies acting as a restorative balm, soothing their wounds, restoring their health.

He slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her pants, cupping her between the legs, feeling her heat, her need. Their mouths met again, chafed, red, throbbing from the unrelenting friction of their kisses.

With trembling fingers, she unbuckled his belt, then lowered the zipper of his jeans. He pulled her pants down over her hips, past her thighs, knees, ankles, running the palm of his hand over her charged skin on his way down. They both wriggled out of their remaining garments and came together again, raw, wanting, needing, every inch of him covering every inch of her. He planted soft kisses on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, then back to her lips. She reached for him and a long slow sigh spilled from his lips.

And then he was in her, slowly, deliberately, taking his time, his hips moving languidly, his eyes locked with hers, his hands framing her head as their lips continued their gentle dance.

It wasn't even about reaching their biological destinies, they could have stayed this way all night, yoked together, healing each other. But, he wanted to satisfy her, wanted to feel her pleasure, even as they were both still in so much pain, or perhaps because of it.

The first time a word had been uttered since laying their heads wearily on their pillows hours before, was when Kate cried out in perfect release. Moments later, he followed.

And then it was done. The anguish and pain, so present and tormenting hours before, had been relegated to the far, dark corners of their minds, chased there by the open, willing, honest intimacy they had just shared with each other.

They slipped beneath the covers, their bodies tangled together, sweaty, complete, faithful, and then they spoke of everything they'd wanted to say before, but couldn't. In hushed voices they shared every fear, every worry, every authentic emotion, and when they had no more words, they came together again in a gentle, whispery kiss.

Finally, feeling the pull of her empty stomach, Kate raised herself up and suggested they get some food.

"Or, maybe I should go home." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, "You should probably square things with Alexis. Besides, I need a shower and fresh..." She stopped, suddenly aware of the panicked look on his face.

"No. Please, don't go. Stay with me," He pleaded.

Oh, you look so much like a little boy.

She gingerly touched the side of his face with her fingertips, "Okay." She paused. "Okay, I'll stay with you, Castle."

He smiled. For the first time all day, he smiled at her. And she smiled back at him.

They were going to be okay.

For now.

The End.