Always
A Castle Fanfiction
Author's Note: Okay, so I fell in love with Castle over the past few weeks, and when I watched "Countdown", I knew I had to write a tag for it. I'm a newbie in this fandom, so I hope it's not too bad.
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle, or any of the dialogue (except the last line). Just Castle's thoughts.
He never really pictured that this would be the way he'd finally die. Not at all, actually. He was a writer. Writers don't die locked inside of freezers, huddled with a police detective in what he mentally referred to as 'death cuddling'.
Death cuddling: Cuddling with someone that you've really, really wanted to cuddle with, but the only reason you are now is because you're both going to die. So yeah. Not how he pictured dying, and not how he pictured him and Beckett finally getting up close and personal.
He held her close to him, as tight as he could without hurting her, hoping in vain to try and give her some warmth. However, as the time passed, he knew he had no warmth left to give. His fingertips turned blue, like Beckett, he began to lose all feeling in most of his body.
Their conversation goes from quiet and mildly fearful, with him trying to cheer her up with a wise crack or two, to being painful and made up of stilted phrases. After all, it's kind of hard to talk when they were both shaking so bad that their voices trembled violently. Every time she went silent, he leaned his head against hers, just reminding himself that she was still there.
Hell, maybe that was the silver lining of all of this. They weren't going to die alone... they were going to die together. He decided then, that if he had to die, dying with Kate Beckett huddled to his chest wasn't the worst way to go. However, he would have much rather lived with her in his arms than died with her in his arms.
It was tragic, romantic even - something he would've put in one of his books. He realized that though his novels look fantastic in print (always the humble one) in real life, well, they kind of sucked. He sighed, surprised his throat hasn't frozen shut yet.
"Castle? Are you there?" Beckett asked, her voice so weak and faint it terrified him. Maybe it was the obvious undertone of confusion that scared him the most. She's fading faster than I am. Why?
"Yeah, I'm right - I'm right - I'm right here." he couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice. God, everything hurt. Cold wasn't supposed to hurt, it was just supposed to be cold.
"I can't feel anything... huh. I always thought, being a c-cop, I'd take a bullet. Never thought I'd f-freeze to death." So, Beckett was thinking the same thing he was. He leaned his face into her hair, feeling his eyes stinging. He was afraid that if he cried, the tears would freeze his eyes shut. Is that even possible? he wondered.
"Hey w-we're not d-dead yet." he replied, squeezing her arms. She shifted just a little bit against them, and he was relieved that she can still move.
"I just wish this was one of your books and you could rewrite the ending." she told him sadly, her hazel eyes hazy and forlorn. God, I wish it was too, Kate. I really wish it was.
"I'm s- I'm sorry." he whispered, because he is, for so many goddamned things. For the fact that he got them into this, for all the hell she's had to put up with from him, the way he's always been such a smartass, for the fact that he was too much a coward to ever tell her how he really felt. I'm sorry it's too late.
"For what?"
"F-for being me, going rogue. Getting you into - into this. If we hadn't gone rogue..." he stammered, wishing he could keep his voice steady, but he's long past that point. Is it him, or are the edges of his vision starting to fade to black?
"Shh, Castle, no, okay? Shh... you were right. We found the bomb. We were just too late, okay?" This didn't make sense. He should be the one reassuring her, not the other way around. "Castle..." she whispered his name, curling tighter to his chest. "Thank you... for being there."
He looks at her, auburn hair splayed out with bits of ice in it, hazel eyes half open, her eyelashes frosted by the freezing air in the box that was going to become their coffin. Even when she was dying, she was still beautiful.
"Always." he replied, trying to tell his fingers to trace a comforting circle on her slim arm, but his body refused to respond. She surprised him with a finger barely glancing his chin as her eyes, looking more distant than he'd ever seen them, met his.
He wished he could have felt her touch, but he is far too cold.
"I just want you to know how much I lo-" her eyes rolled back, cutting off the end of her sentence. She sagged, her head lolling to the side.
"Hey, Kate." he shook her, desperately hoping to keep her from slipping into unconsciousness. "Stay with me, Kate." he begged her, even though she was long past being able to hear him. "Kate. Stay with me!"
It was too late. Her eyes were closed. The only thing that assured him that she was alive was the almost unnoticeable rise and fall of her chest.
He felt panic rising in his chest. No, this isn't happening. I can't watch her die. I won't watch her die.
Was this some ultimate punishment for not doing greater deeds in his life? Should he have been a missionary or something instead of a writer? What did he do to deserve this kind of torture, watching the woman he loved freeze to death, watching the life fade from her?
The darkness crept further into his vision, giving him tunnel vision. He just wanted to sleep, even though he knew that this time, he wouldn't be waking up. Using his last bit of strength, he hugged Beckett, placing a numb kiss on the side of her head before letting his head fall forward, his face buried in her hair and his chin resting on her shoulder.
"I love you, Kate." he whispered to the silent room before finally giving into the cold that dominated his body. The last thing he remembered was the faint smell of her perfume before the darkness swallowed him.
A/N: Well, how was my first Castle fic guys? Please review!