A/N: Set in season 4, not long after Cops and Robbers. Not really related to 8x01, just stealing an idea from it.
Beckett scowls at her desk, frustrated with the chaos of a case that she's not even allowed to know details about. They don't know their killer's real name or what her team's agenda is, but they've arrested Susan Emory, which is at least a contribution to this case. It was taken over by the Attorney General's office, out of their jurisdiction, but Beckett hadn't been able to let it go and had followed it through until they had one member of this group caught.
Susan's not talking though, claims that if she spills her secrets it will be much worse than prison. Anger had rolled through Beckett during the interrogation, but there was nothing she could do, so now she simmers in her seat as she prepares for the paperwork. At least she can rest easier now that one of killers is in custody, knowing that she helped even if she couldn't get a confession.
The paperwork is piled on her desk, and she picks up a pen to begin filling out as much as she can before she leaves. The scar on her side itches as she leans forward and she runs her hand over it in an attempt to soothe the raised skin. The take down today had pulled it, an ever present reminder that she has definitely not healed yet.
She so desperately wants to be better, wishes the nightmares would stop, aches to gain back her confidence around guns that she had before the bullet pierced her heart.
Castle sits opposite her, deciding not to leave just yet and watch her do paperwork instead, help with the details, he had said. It's an excuse to stay, she knows, but she's tense and annoyed, and he can probably sense that from her. His presence helps, it hasn't been long since the explosion at the bank and having him close makes her muscles loose and her heart giddy. She flicks her eyes up, sneaking a glance at him as he plays on his phone, and her lips turn up as he furrows his brow at the screen.
She begins writing the date when she hears a commotion across the bullpen that draws her attention away. Before she can even register what is happening, Susan has disarmed two officers and begins spraying bullets across the room.
Beckett freezes.
Her pulse takes over, heavy and loud in her head, and she struggles to breath over the flashbacks flickering in her mind. Her brain registers seeing LT go down, but her throat is tight and she can't focus, can't hear anything over the sound of the gunshots, deafening as it reminds her all too well of being taken down by the sniper.
Move, Beckett.
"I can't-" she cries to herself, and her hand is pressed hard against her scar between her breasts, as if protecting that area will make everything okay. She's seeing glints of light, green grass and Castle hovering over her, and she reaches out, her hand fumbling on her desk in failed attempt to do something to shield herself. She coughs, chokes, trying to gain oxygen as her throat closes up and her blood rushes through her skull.
Oh god, she's going to get shot again. A strangled cry escapes her mouth, anticipating something that never comes because she's pulled down onto the ground and brought tight against something- someone.
Castle.
Of course. She shouldn't be surprised, but the gunfire is still blasting across the bullpen and she can't seem to notice anything other than bullets and Castle's chest, warm and safe as he gathers her to him.
She hides her head against him, his arms are wrapped tight around her as he burrows his head against her neck. Bending her knees across his thighs, she makes herself as small as possible, as if she can curl up in his embrace and hide there forever.
Her eyes squeeze shut, her heartbeat pounding, brain foggy and swirling with memories of the cemetery. She still can't seem to catch her breath, wants fresh air, needs to move, but if she does she'll be shot, again, and god, she feels phantom pain spread through her. She hears muffled shouting from Ryan and Espo, controlling the situation like she should be doing, and somewhere amongst the panic her gut twinges with guilt.
A bullet whizzes close to their heads and she cries out again on instinct, tears swimming in her eyes and soaking into Castle's shirt. Stupid, she thinks, but her breathing is erratic and Castle is gripping her tighter and she just needs it to be over.
"Castle," she rasps, curling her hand into his shirt and pressing her forehead hard against his sternum as she attempts to control her breathing.
"I've got you," Castle says into her ear, and it makes her huddle deeper, needing him close despite the boundaries she's set for herself. "I've got you this time," he murmurs, so quiet that if it wasn't in her ear she wouldn't have heard.
Oh, Castle. She knows it kills him that he couldn't save her, and she wishes he wouldn't carry the guilt for something that wasn't his fault.
She can feel herself coming to now, his words and his warmth helping as her pulse slows.
More gunfire, but she recognizes it as her team's, fighting back, loud, but then it stops, and the bullpen is silent as the dust settles.
She whimpers as she regains focus and Castle brings a hand up to brush hair away that has stuck to her face with tears and sweat. He cradles the back of her head, leaves his hand there, anchoring her and she can breathe again. His fingers sift through her hair, and her skin prickles at his touch, so very aware now of how close they are.
"Kate," he whispers, worried eyes locking with hers, as he studies her face. "It's over."
She pulls back, sits up, and releases her hand from the tight grip she has on his shirt. They're close still, thighs touching, the heat seeping through into her skin, though she can't bring herself to pull away any further. Her hands are shaking, her stomach churning, but she manages to lift her fingers to swipe the wetness from her cheeks.
"You okay?" he asks, and she nods, but shame and embarrassment crawl through her.
She turns her head to do a quick check of the situation. Ryan and Espo are okay, thank God, and Espo gives her a nod which she returns with a smile. She knows Espo has been through similar, he won't fault her for a second.
The precinct is smashed up, splinters of wood everywhere, desks ruined. So much cleaning will be needed - but it could be worse.
She doesn't think she can stand just yet, her muscles quaking, so she swallows, turns her head back to Castle.
His attention is all on her, heavy and focused as their faces remain so close together. It makes her heart a little lighter, the proximity, but she feels weak from what just happened. She never wanted him to see this side of her, the one who struggled to hold herself together over the summer, the side she's working so hard to leave behind so she can be ready for him.
She's definitely not there yet.
He's waiting for her to speak, or move, but instead she lists into him, drops her forehead in the junction between his neck and his shoulder and inhales deep. Her hand creeps up to his waist, squeezes his side before rubbing her thumb gently back and forth.
He brings his hand around to her back, making similar motions along her spine, and she closes her eyes, feels her eyelashes dust the collar of his shirt. It calms her, finding solace in the broad expanse of his chest
"Thank you, Castle," she murmurs, and he nods in return. Her body is jostled when he takes a rattling breath in - he has to have been panicking as well, but he held it together for her. She shivers in his arms, she needs to pull herself together before she confesses things she's been holding in so well.
"I'm just- glad you're okay, Kate."
She can feel tears heavy in her eyes - how much he cares about her is hitting her right in the heart. She clenches her jaw, wills them not to fall again; she must look like such a mess already she doesn't need to make it worse.
Pulling her head away from the comfort of his skin, she looks up to his face, skims her hand up to his shoulder and rests it there.
Taking a risk she reaches up and presses her lips softly to the corner of his mouth. Her eyes slam shut, the small connection making her heart bang against her ribs, a taste of what she hopes is to come. It's a whisper of a kiss, but he startles beneath her and his hand scrambles to grip onto her back. She dusts her hand over his temple as she draws back and Castle exhales as they come apart. It was a thank you, and a promise, and she hopes he can yet again understand her subtext as she smiles at him.
She begins to stand, her knees are shaky and she falters, but he's there in an instant, holding her elbow as she gains her footing. By her side, as always.
"Let's start helping with the clean up?"
"Yeah, of course," he agrees, and they both look around to survey the damage properly. No casualties - besides the shooter. LT rests on the floor with a cop pressing bandages firmly on his shoulder as they wait for paramedics. The guilt of not helping washes through her again and she runs her hand through the mess of her hair as she begins to walk around the bullpen, eager to make up for what she couldn't do before.
"Hey, Kate?"
"Hmm?"
"You'll get there," he says, and her breath hitches. "And I'll- uh- I'll be there... here- I'll be here. When you're ready."
She smiles, ducks her head, her lips still buzzed from where they swept across his skin. She'll be ready soon.
A/N: Thanks to the wonderful girls who beta'd for me :)
Thank you for reading :) Oh and the title is from a song by Josh Pyke
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