A/N: This is the start of what I hope will become a collection of one-shots all centered around the same thing: four letters.
This first one, Burn, comes from the title word given to me by two people: tellmeyouneedme and allusiontoanillusion.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing of Castle.
The fire was pretty. The flames tickled the top of the stove, caressing the black iron as they danced.
She paused her motions long enough to watch the yellows and reds weave together. She was sitting cross-legged in front of the little standalone wood stove in the kitchen, the one she only turned on when it was freezing or when she wanted the comfort of the crackling of wood. Tonight, it had a different purpose.
The pile of papers next to her was chaotic. It had started as a neat stack, everything in its place when she sat down. Now, after almost an hour of activity, the sheets and cards and photos were scattered across the kitchen floor. Dates, times, locations, and faces stared at her as she worked, slowly now that some of the adrenaline had moved through her system.
The knock at the door drew her out of the trace of repeated motions. Leaving the fire crackling in the kitchen, she padded over to the door, checking the peephole out of habit though she knew it could only be one person.
He was bundled up against the cold, snowflakes melting on the dark wool of his peacoat and dampening his hair.
"Hey," he said, his teeth chattering a little.
Kate was blocking the door, refusing him entry even as he moved to go inside. "It's not a good time right now, Castle." Her voice sounded detached even to her own ears.
But he could read her like one of his books. Even as she tried to hide like some elusive symbol in the pages of the novel, he knew exactly how to tease her out, to prod until he found her. "Come on, Kate." He didn't touch her but made his intention to get into her apartment clear.
She shifted, shaking her head. "Seriously. Forget it."
"No." She looked up in surprise. "You don't need to be alone tonight. Let me in."
She shivered, wanting to take him up on the offer, not only for the night but forever. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, trying to glare through the exhaustion. "Castle…"
"At least let me warm up before I brave Snowmageddon out there again."
The plea snuck through a crack in her shell and she let a small smile creep onto her face at the name the news was giving the snowstorm. The first smile on the one day only he could make her smile.
"Hot chocolate or coffee?" she offered, trailing behind him to the kitchen, heading to the Keurig machine she had splurged on for her birthday last year. The little bowl of grounds and chocolate powder and tea leaves were easier than waiting for coffee to brew or water to boil. She pulled down two mugs, turning to face him when he didn't answer. "Castle?"
He had frozen in the middle of the kitchen. And she only realized her mistake when she followed his line of sight.
"Shit…"
"Kate. What is this?" His eyes were flicking from the pieces of paper up to her face as he spoke.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Kate set the mugs on the counter and walked over to him, staying a few paces behind his body. "My mom's case."
The fire gave a violent snap and Kate flinched.
"What are you…?" he trailed off, leaving the question unfinished. He hadn't turned to look back at her, a fact Kate was eternally grateful for; she didn't think she could stand to see whatever emotion would be in his eyes.
Kate forced her voice to sound as nonchalant as possible, certain she was failing. "Burning it."
He whirled around, the sudden motion making her dizzy. "What?"
"I'm letting go." She met his eyes even though the normally teasing blue depths were confused and a little hurt. "It's not going to define me anymore."
"But this?" he said with a wave of his hand at the stove, the pile of notes and pictures next to it. "This isn't the right way, Kate."
The softness of his voice set her on edge instead of comforting her. She crossed her arms, shrugging. "It's working for me."
He took a step forward. She held her ground, his chest brushing her arms. "Really? Burning the case is working for you, is helping you get over it?"
"Yes."
"Kate, they're just piece of paper."
She moved from in front of him, going to stand next to the chair in the living room, her back to him. Her hands held her elbows, crossing her body. It was a futile attempt to keep herself together in while he was here. "Which is why it isn't a big deal."
His shoulder bumped hers as he circled around her. "Not a big deal? I've known you for four years and this has been your one constant. Why choose now to cast free?"
"Maybe I found a new constant." Her eyes were trained on the ground, refusing to look at him. Hoping that he understood what she wasn't saying out loud.
He tilted her chin up and was immediately struck at the emotion her eyes held, wondering how those little green circles could contain it all without letting it spill out. "You know I'll always be here for you. But as much as you think you can set that case aside, you need that closure. The same closure you bring the other victims. And now you can't because it's all ashes."
The disappointment and sadness in his voice sounded so genuine that Kate had to fight back tears. "That's not entirely true." She walked into the office, leaned against the frame as he followed her in.
There, taped up on the pane and the wooden frame, was her mother's case. Just as it had always been since she had started the faux murder board a year ago. Some of the notes were faded from sunlight, others newly taped up with recent information and breaks.
"How…?"
Kate smiled, reaching her hand out to take his fingers. The contact surprised him so he didn't move his hand to wrap around her slim fingers. "Coping mechanism I worked out with my therapist back before I met you. When it gets to be too much, I make copies of everything and burn it. Lets me feel free of it for a few days. I don't look at the board or any of the papers. I forget about it. Just for a while, long enough to get my feet under me again."
"And it has worked in the past?"
"Yeah. Especially on this night."
January 9th. The anniversary. The reason he was here in the first place having found the single cab still out on the streets and begged the driver to get him to her apartment. So she wouldn't be alone, left thinking about what had happened since then.
He tugged his hand from hers. "That hot chocolate offer still stand?"
"Of course."
They returned to the kitchen and she started up the machine, popping the little cup of cocoa powder in and hitting a button. The smell of chocolate filled the apartment instantly, a comforting scent mixed with the smoke from the fire. He stopped in front of the stove again. Now that the flames had died down, a chill settled on the floor. A grin pulled at his lips when the old saying filled his mind. Heat rises.
A glance over at the woman in the kitchen, taking down the little jar of marshmallow crème and scooping a spoonful out to place in their cocoa told him the saying remained true, in real life as in fiction.
"So, we can burn the rest of this?" he asked, taking the mug from her, the heat from the liquid burning his fingertips as he rotated the mug to hold the handle.
Kate nodded, sipping at the hot chocolate. "Definitely. It's getting chilly." She leaned over, picking up a little handful of notecards and tossed them into the fire. The flames took the offering, rising up to curl on the top of the stove.
For the night, at least, that part of her was able to be burned away, leaving her cleansed.
A/N: So, first installment - done. Special thanks to thejetsetgirl of tumblr - she spent time creating a floorplan of Kate's apartment and was helpful in answering my questions about the stove in the apartment. As a writer, getting the details is important to me and she was a great help!
I've got a huge list from people on tumblr and from the chatroom post-Kill Shot. I'm writing which ever words speak to me when I sit down. You have a word for me (remember - only four letters!), send it to me in a review.
Speaking of reviews, give me some to read on the drive back home for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Please?