Let it Burn
AN: The song referenced in this is Currents by Dashboard Confessional. It's a pretty beautiful song if you have a chance to listen to it. It inspired this little one shot. Hope you enjoy, please let me know!
The air was heavy, laden with smoke. Castle coughed, fighting back the urge to splutter uncontrollably. This couldn't be it. The end was not nigh. Not when they were so happy. Always didn't culminate in disaster like this. Always meant a white dress, late nights and babies crying, it meant grey hair and innumerable anniversaries. A life together. They deserved their forever. That didn't stop the fire burning. The raging inferno already licking at the door, the walls, a sheen of sweat coating his body…
"If it is born in flames,
then we should let it burn,
burn as brightly as it can,
and if it's going to end,
then let it end in flames.
Let it burn.
If it's going to end.
Let it burn.
If this is ever meant to end,
then I hope it ends how it began,
so hot with love it burn our hands"
He couldn't watch her burn to death, but he couldn't be apart from her either. She didn't get to die alone. He didn't get to die alone. If this was all the always that they were going to get then he needed her in his arms. That thought alone forced him to part his lips and draw a shaky, sullen breath.
"Beckett," he gasped, throatily, his voice lost in the crackle of orange and red consuming the walls around him. It didn't matter that he was too quiet, she had found her voice –
"Castle, Castle, Cas…" he heard a little ways before him, the next room he assumed. She was close. So close. He could get to her. He could hold her. There was hope. The shudder and creak of the building as the beams behind him collapsed, effectively severing the only option for escape. Diminished hope it would have to be.
"Beckett," he tried again, louder now in the face of reality. So close. He stumbled forwards, doubled over, trying to draw breaths that weren't encompassed in smoke. The air was thick with it – there wasn't any clear air left. Crawling was pointless, it just would slow his pursuit of Beckett.
He stumbled through what was left of the doorway and found her. She was on her knees, canting her body towards him, but not really moving, her delicate frame wracked with shaky coughs.
"Kate," he breathed, his tone coloured with a strange mixture of relief and devastation. He didn't want her to die. He didn't want to die alone. An impasse. He fell to his knees at her side, clutched her body to his. She came willingly. It was so hot. Body heat barely made a difference. He could feel the burn of her skin under his fingertips. They needed fresh air, the cool brush of wind from standing in the street. They needed to live. He needed her.
The flames surrounding them did nothing to diminish the fire inside, the burning need that never decreased. He wanted her. He needed her. She had set a consuming fire within him years ago, even now, in the face of their imminent death, nothing possessed more of an intensity. He searched for the words to tell her. His mind was hazy, the smoke overpowering and taking hold. It seemed he didn't need to speak, she felt it too.
Her eyes on his, a look laced with longing and angst. Her lips on his, hungry and utterly devastating. It didn't matter that their world was ending. This, this they could do. This was a fire that they could willingly give themselves to. The burn of desire still stronger than anything else.
He pushed her back, still close enough for her to rest her forehead on his, as he tugged the buttons loose on her blouse. He traced the swell of her breast, a familiar path, yet he committed to memory afresh. If this was going to be his last memory, his last moment, he needed it to count. It was still immortalised in his mind if he died. When. It was only a matter of time.
He lifted his gaze from her chest, met her eyes so close to his once again. He brushed the single tear tracking its way through the soot and grime on her cheek, pressing his lips softly to hers, a soothing gesture. The lust tampered down under the weight of his love. She tugged his shirt over his shoulders, casting it strategically over the warm floor as she pushed him back onto it, rising above him. Her fingers unsteadily popping the button of his pants and drawing the fly open. She shucked her own pants and he lost himself for a moment in the heat of her core, wet over him. The only heat that mattered. The only heat in his world. Let it burn.
He surrendered himself to her, their movements were slow, impinged by the oppressive heat and short, unsteady intake of air. Let it burn.
They climaxed together, the sweat joining their bodies as she collapsed onto him, sated and barely breathing. He forced her eyes to his with a gentle hand at her chin. There were no words left. Nothing worth saying. Nothing that they couldn't say with the love shining in their eyes. Still, Castle wasn't one for silence, or the brevity of coming death.
"I should never have named her Nikki Heat," he murmured, pushing a lock of hair behind Beckett's ear, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow.
"God, Castle," she groaned. "Just more proof that you should listen to me," she added wryly. He chuckled, it was strangled. "I don't want you to die," she choked out after a moment.
"I don't want to live without you," he breathed, tugging her lips to his once again.
"Touché," she whispered, unable to prevent the steady stream of tears spilling from her eyes.
"I don't want us to die," he added. "I love you."
"Don't. Don't say goodbye. Just… I love you too. So much," her voice was choked, too tired to reign in her emotions.
"You're right. No goodbyes. We'll just pretend we're in a sauna. Soon, we're going to drift off to sleep. It'll be okay. It'll be okay," he soothed.
"Castle, it's not okay," she sighed. "We're dying. We're dying and we still haven't gotten to really live. I want to marry you. I want to raise our children together. I want so much for us, Castle. So much…" she tried not to sob. She tried. It hurt. Her lungs hurt. Her heart hurt. Her head pounded. Not enough oxygen. Not enough oxygen. They weren't going to make it. Let it burn.
"Marry me," he asserted after a moment of silence. "Marry me." He tugged the ring from her neck, ignoring the welt beneath it, the metal already too warm against her skin. "I don't want you to die without giving you as much of the future that you want that I can."
"I…yes," she smiled through her tears. "I Katherine Beckett, take you Richard Castle to be my husband. Always."
"Always," he echoed, sliding the ring onto her finger. "Time to kiss the bride," he winked. She kissed him, tender and slow. Married. She slid back onto him, joining their bodies once again. Not thrusting, not moving, just a connection. Linked. Joined in life. Joined in death. For better or worse. She listened as his breathing grew shallower. Tried to ignore that hers was doing the same. The end was upon them, oppressive and undeniable. She slipped away. No conscious thought left to guide her, just oblivion and darkness. Let it burn.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Esposito hurried the fire fighters through the door, his partner at his heels.
"Find them, now," he barked out. The professionals were slow and methodical before him. Their movements practised and precise but nowhere near fast enough.
"Move," Ryan grunted, demanding.
"You two need to get out until we've cleared the building," the nearest fire fighter hissed at them.
"Like hell. You move faster. You find them. Or so help me, I will run into this damn burning building of my own accord," Esposito ground out through gritted teeth.
"Bro, we've got to find them," Ryan spat at his partner.
"You don't think I know that," Esposito groaned. Ryan flicked a thumb over his shoulder at the fire truck, sirens blazing, flashing lights contrasting with the smoke darkened night sky. Esposito nodded and the pair sprinted to the open truck, pulling heavy jackets from the cabin. "Let's do this," he nudged his partner back through the door, ignoring the firemen nearest to them, pulling the jacket tightly around his chest.
"The vics apartment was on the second floor," Ryan nodded at the charred staircase.
"One at a time, it'll hold," Esposito assessed gruffly, starting up the stairs, sticking close to the wall. Ryan followed him up, albeit slightly more tentatively. They found the apartment, the door locked and burning before them. Esposito nudged it with the heel of his boot, the wood splintering to the floor in ashes before him. Let it burn.
Everything was blackened. The walls, the floor. All coated by a heavy layer of soot. Nothing discernible, only black, mangled objects melted in place. Esposito cursed. Ryan an echo of him.
They edged their way into the next room. Oh god.
Castle and Beckett's bare skin a stark white to the black of destruction. Skin. Pale, sooty skin. They still had skin. Sure, it was red and welted. But it was skin. They were more than a pile of ash. They had skin… Ryan let loose an unsteady breath.
"Are they alive?" he choked as his partner drew a hand to each of their necks, desperately seeking a pulse. Esposito fixed him with a strained smile, a brisk nod –
"More to the point. Why the hell are they naked?" he chuckled in relief.
"Oh, c'mon, that's a given," Ryan groaned, a slight grin. "Let's get them out of here," he added as the building creaked precariously beneath his feet.
"Yeah," Esposito agreed in all seriousness. Ryan tugged Beckett's unconscious form into his arms, draping Castle's shirt over her body. Esposito strained under Castle's weight but managed to grasp him nonetheless.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Beckett woke slowly, everything cloudy. She blinked unsteadily. The room was bright. So much white. So much light. She found a flash of blue. Castle. So much love. Burn as brightly as it can.
"Hey," he murmured. "We made it. Esposito and Ryan pulled as out. Apparently we have to pay for their trauma counselling. I don't know why they're complaining. Your naked body is insanely hot," he teased gently.
"We made it," she grinned, her throat burning as she spoke, a dry ache, still lined with soot. "We get our life, Castle…"
"We do," he beamed, pressing a kissto her mother's ring on her finger. "I can get you a new ring, if you like?"
"We can have an actual ceremony, if you like," she teased gently, ignoring the wince of pain that jolted through her cracked lips.
"I like. I like a lot," he smiled. "Is tomorrow too soon?" Beckett shrugged.
"I'm starting to think we ought to make the most of our time while we still can…" she admitted gently, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She adjusted her mother's ring, tried to pull it from her finger. It didn't come. The burnt flesh surrounding it sticking it to her skin. "Guess I'm keeping this ring," she added wryly. Castle kissed it once again. So hot with love it burn our hands.
"It seems fitting. It's a big part of what brought us together. Your mother's case. Justice," Castle reasoned softly.
"I suppose so," Beckett gazed affectionately at the ring before fixing her eyes on Castle's. "We've got a lot of living left to do."
"We've got always," Castle agreed, rising to capture her lips with his.
If it is born in flames,
then we should let it burn,
burn as brightly as it can.