TELL ME YOU NEED ME
A 4X07 POST-EP
"I do, by the way."
Castle looks up from the sink at his partner's words, finds her with her gaze intently on the dish that she's drying. He'd tried to get her to sit and relax when he'd begun cleaning from dinner, but she'd refused, had picked up a dish towel and informed him that she was going to help, and he couldn't stop her. So they've been working in relative silence, Kate drying and putting away the dishes - knowing where most of them go, he'd noticed - while he washes.
His brows furrow in confusion. It sounds like she's continuing a conversation, but he can't think of what comment of his that she's responding to. "You do what?"
Her gaze lifts to his for a moment before lowering again, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. "Never mind," she mumbles, draping the towel over her shoulder and bending to put the pan in its designated cabinet.
He almost shrugs and lets it go, but something tells him that he shouldn't, that he needs to know what she's talking about. "No, not 'never mind.' What did you mean?"
She sighs, grabs the next pan, starts to dry it. "When you called this morning, you said 'Tell me that you need me.'" She pauses at his sharp inhale, but quickly continues, as if she'll lose her nerve if she stops. "And I didn't say anything because it threw me off guard, then the rest of the day happened. But I do need you." She looks up at him again her eyes bright, and nervous flecks of gold shimmering amongst the green. "I just...you deserve to know," she adds, a finality to her voice that tells him she doesn't have anything else to say.
But he wants to say something. After his heart resumes its normal pace, he switches off the water and takes the pan from her hands. He has a hunch as to what brought this on, that her sudden confession could be directly related to his near death experience just a few short hours ago. The smile she'd given him upon seeing him in the vault, dusty and tired but alive, will stick with him for a long time, give him comfort when he jerks awake in bed, sweaty and trembling from a nightmare where she didn't survive her gunshot.
He wants to tell her again that he loves her, when he knows that she'll hear him and remember. That when he saw her come into the bank, dressed in the paramedic's uniform, he breathed a sigh of relief because he knew that she'd get them out unharmed. That she'd do anything to keep his daughter from suffering the violent loss of a parent. And when he heard her call his name after the explosion, the panic and fear obvious, he'd almost burst into tears, had almost kissed her, spectators and metaphorical walls be damned.
He won't tell her all of that today. She's still working on her walls, still vulnerable, still recovering from her physical and emotional trauma, as he'd seen in the sniper case just a few short weeks before. He's letting her take the lead on their relationship, letting her set the pace.
"I need you too, Kate," he finally admits softly, propping his hip against the counter.
She lifts her gaze to his again, and the hope he sees in her eyes encourages him. Makes him brave.
He reaches his hand out, and after a glance at his extended palm, she draws her bottom lip between her teeth and slips her palm into his. Her fingers curl around his and tug, but he doesn't move, simply watches as she shifts closer to him. She moves almost in slow motion, one arm curling around his neck, fitting her body to his in a tight hug. She lets go of his hand and circles her arm around his waist, and his own arms envelop her, pull her tighter to him.
He doesn't let himself think about how perfect she is in his arms, forces himself to ignore the quiet sigh he feels against his neck. Instead, he simply closes his eyes, allows himself a slow exhale, his own sigh of relief.
"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispers, her voice shaky, her breath hot on his neck.
He gives her a squeeze, presses his cheek against her hair. And then, he has no idea what compels him to do it, but he brushes a kiss to her temple.
As soon as his lips touch her skin he freezes, afraid that if he moves too fast, she'll run. She stiffens in his arms, but after just a moment she relaxes against him, tightens her arms around him. He feels her turn her head to bury her face in his neck, and he feels his heart clench when he feels her tears on his skin.
"I'm okay," he whispers, his thumb rubbing a circle against the small of her back. He doesn't pull her closer, but she shifts in his arms, and his breath catches in his throat when her whole body presses up against his, her body a perfect fit to his. "I'm okay, Kate," he repeats, fingers clenching against the soft cashmere of her sweater, itching to slip below her shirt, to press his reassuring touch directly to her skin..
"If I'd lost you…"
"Hey," he says more forcefully, taking a step back, his heart protesting the loss of contact although his hands don't leave her waist. But he needs go see her, to look in her eyes. Needs her to see what he can't say out loud. "You didn't. I'm not going anywhere, Kate."
She sniffles, wipes her thumb under her eye. "You almost didn't have a choice."
He hesitates just a moment before reaching up to cover her hand with his. "The universe itself couldn't tear me from you, Kate," he whispers, fingers clenching around her palm.
Kate lifts her gaze to his, gold flecks shimmering amongst the green, and later he isn't sure what exactly prompts him to dip his head. But the moment his lips touch hers, how her breath catches when they part, has him bending down to kiss her again.
He cups her jaw, his thumb brushing along her cheek, and when her mouth opens on a sigh he can't help himself, slips his tongue past her lips to taste her once again.
It's been months since they'd kissed, under the guise of two drunk lovers to sneak their way past a guard. But he's thought about it every day since, every night, every time he wakes in the middle of the night with her moan in his ears and the taste of her on his lips.
He doesn't know what will happen after tonight, after the close call with death that he'd had. But even if they don't speak of this kiss like they don't speak of the last one, just the fleeting moments of ecstasy he feels now is worth every moment of potential future confusion.
Her hands grip his collar as she surges into him, her tongue slicking against his, and he grunts at the collide of her body against his, the counter that catches him when he stumbles back.
"Kate," he gasps, tearing his mouth from hers, lungs desperate for air, head spinning with arousal and the confirmation of what he'd realized months ago: that he doesn't want to feel like this with anyone else. That he doesn't want to kiss anyone else, ever again, that she's it for him. "Wait."
She lets out a faint whimper when he takes a step back, a noise that almost has him diving back into her embrace, leading her to his bedroom where he can show her with his body just how much he loves her.
But instead he moves from her, takes a second step back when she lifts her mouth to his once more. Because their conversation on the swings just weeks before is still fresh in his mind, a conversation about her walls, and her need to tear them down before she can have the kind of relationship that she wants.
He hopes she means a relationship with him. And he'll be damned if he ruins it, if he negates any progress she's made thus far, by moving too fast tonight.
"Wait," he repeats, his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle yet firm. "We shouldn't…" His voice trails off, his throat suddenly dry, and he clears it, tries to ignore the arousal in her darkened eyes. "Your walls."
She lifts a brow. "My walls?"
"Yeah. You know, the walls you built after your mom...you know. I just don't want to move too fast."
It sounds pathetic as soon as it's out of his mouth, maybe even arrogant, like he's assuming that she'd been talking about him that day, about them. But by the way she smirks, he can tell that he isn't being arrogant, that his assumption was right.
"I know what I said on the swings, about needing time." Her hands migrate from his collar to cup his jaw, the other playing with the short hairs at his nape. "But the thing is, I was wrong. I don't need the walls to come down to be with you."
He lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.
The corners of her mouth twitch before spreading into a grin. "You're already inside them. You have been for a long time, Rick. It just took me until today to realize that."
He stares at her for several long moments before breathing her name and bending to kiss her once again.
"I love you," she whispers once they part, her voice breathless and soft. When their eyes meet he sees something he didn't expect to see after hearing those three words: regret. "But I need to tell you something."
"Okay."
Her next words break his heart in two.
"I heard you in the cemetery. And I remember it. I've remembered all along." Her fingers gently caress the back of his neck, oddly soothing despite the turmoil in his heart. "And I'm so sorry I lied. You didn't deserve that."
"Why?" he finally manages to ask.
She sighs. "I wasn't in a good place, Rick. Emotionally, physically, or mentally."
She continues to explain, how she had to escape to her dad's cabin in the middle of the woods just to get the ringing of a sniper rifle from her ears. How she didn't want him to see her so weak, helpless, hardly able to move her arms or torso for the first few weeks. How for weeks, even after returning to the city, she saw the hangar every time she closed her eyes. How it hasn't been until recently that she can finally walk through the streets without feeling like there's a target on her back. And how now, and only now, after almost losing him in a bank robbery, does she know without a doubt that she doesn't need him to break down her walls.
By the time she's finished talking they've migrated to the couch, sitting on opposite sides. She'd sat facing him, one leg tucked beneath her, while he'd faced forward, his forehead eventually finding its way to his palms.
"Jesus, Kate," he finally says on a sigh, when she's finished explaining and apologizing and has fallen silent. He's not mad at her, not anymore, can't be when she's explained herself, when she's just opened her heart to him in a way that she never has before. "I'm so sorry."
She leans forward and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."
"Wasn't it?" He shifts his gaze to her. "I brought up your mom's case again. I pushed you back into it."
He's thought about this a lot, especially over the summer. He can't help but feel responsible; after all, he looked at the file against her wishes, he'd shown it to her. If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have put the murder board back up in her apartment, hadn't gotten shot.
"Rick."
The tone in her voice stops him from continuing, from apologizing further. He hasn't heard her this stern in awhile, at least not directed towards him.
She squeezes his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault," she repeats. "Whether the file had been in my possession or in storage, I would have probably still encountered Coonan, Raglan still would have called me." She shifts closer to him, her knees brushing against his thigh. "All this shit would have still happened, Rick, whether you'd dragged up the case or not."
His fingers twitch at her proximity, and he reaches out to cup her knee, grateful that she doesn't pull away from him at his touch. "I'm still sorry you've had to deal with it."
It sounds pathetic to his ears, but she gives him a small smile and drops her hand on top of his. "Well," she says in a soft voice, "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Kate," he breathes a moment before she leans into him, her mouth pressing into his, fingers curling around his ears as her tongue slips into his open mouth. He tugs her knee in encouragement, lets out a low moan when she straddles his legs and sinks onto his lap. Her hips roll against his, and he leans into her kiss, hand splayed at her back, holding her to him.
She slides her fingers through the fine hairs at his nape, nails lightly scratching before she pulls back, their mouths parting. "I should go," she husks, forehead resting against his, brushing a final kiss to his mouth before leaning back. "I'm on call tomorrow."
He tightens his grip when she starts to climb off of him, and he opens his eyes to find her staring at him, lust and longing evident in her gaze. "Stay here," he suggests, pulling her close once again. "Stay with me."
She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and she smiles, tugs at his collar. "Okay."
He wakes when the mattress shifts at his back, and he turns over, sweeps his hand across the space that Kate's just vacated. "You okay?" he mumbles in the direction of her silhouette across the room.
The silhouette moves closer to him, and she finishes tugging her sweater on as she perches on the edge of the mattress next to him. "I got a call, didn't want to wake you."
"Give me five minutes, I'll come with you." He sits up, and when she stands and starts to walk away, he grabs her hand, tugs her to stand between his legs. "Hey, wait a sec, come here."
She perches on his thigh and threads her fingers through his.
He clears his throat, thumb circling across the back of her hand. "I just-I want us to be on the same page with this."
"Ah." She nods, and even in the dim light he can see the flush creep across her cheeks. "Well, we were definitely on the same page last night," she teases with a smirk.
He smirks back. "Yeah we were," he agrees in a low voice, his other hand sliding up her bare thigh. "But that's not what I mean. Well, not just what I mean." When she just lifts a brow, he gives in. presses a brief kiss to her mouth. "I just want it to be clear, that this? Us?" He motions between them. "It's not a one time thing for me."
Kate's face softens, and she cups her palm to his jaw, her gaze traveling across his features. "Me neither," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I meant what I said last night, Rick. I love you. I want to be with you."
Castle feels his smile grow at the repetition of their conversation a short time before, of hushed whispers and middle-of-the-night declarations of their feelings for each other. "Good."
"Good," she echoes. She leans in and kisses him, long and slow, her arms tightening around his back. "Now," she continues when she pulls away, "are you coming with me, or what?"
-FIN-