I'm going to start off by saying this is not my norm, but it was requested, so I thought: why not? I'm not going to ramble, so we will go with five facts and then just kind of launch into it. Yeah?
1. This is centered around the whole 'Set-Up" and "Countdown" plot.
2. If number one wasn't indicative enough, here's your warning: spoiler heavy.
3. This is for dreamer86 from tumblr. I hope this lives up to your expectations.
4. It only really makes sense if you've scene the Titanic. Reference heavy. This should not surprise my returning readers.
5. There is never a number five, I just like the symmetry. The number five...such a pretty, clean cut, divisible number.
Unsinkable
He watched as her breath escape from between her parted lips. The fact that he was close enough to see it floating in front of him, the fact that her breath was mixing with his amid them, the way her mouth was open just barely- it only reminded him how cold it really was.
A violent shudder shook through him and she felt it, responding by pressing herself further, if possible, against his side. He secured her closer with the arm he had draped across her shoulder, hoping that if he held her a little tighter, she wouldn't shiver so much. Still, where her face was practically buried in his neck, he could feel as much as hear her teeth chattering together involuntarily.
Her butt hurt, her back hurt, her head hurt, her jaw hurt from the shivering. She felt like she was soaked in ice cold water, clothes and all. She could feel every bone in her body. She felt the man she was nestled against shift slightly, and her body followed his, unwilling to lose the comfort or the warmth.
He reached for her legs, hooking a hand under her knee and leading both of them across his lap. This allowed her to lean more completely against his chest and draw her knees closer, insulating them a little better. She may as well have been sitting his lap, but neither of them cared. She let her arm snake under his coat and around his waist.
He continued to watch her breathing, the hot puffs of exhalation heavy in the below freezing air, taking a good few seconds to dissipate completely. "It's so cold," he murmured. It was lame and he knew it, but the silence was driving him mad and he was feeling lightheaded.
"And here I am expecting you to make some sort of comment about how hot it just got," she shot back, after a good ten seconds. Her voice was strained and it was obvious that it took a lot of effort to speak.
"If you would rather I-"
"No," there was o pause that time, and he did his best attempts at a chuckle. It was hard to laugh when it felt like there was a 500 pound weight sitting on your chest. After a few minutes of silence and more bated breath, he started laughing again. She craned her head upward, ever so slightly.
"What?" she asked, barely whispering.
"Nothing," he told her, and then after a beat: "It's just there's a Titanic reference just out of reach. I can practically taste it." To his surprise, she shook, this time with laughter.
"Castle," she said, after her laughter had subsided and the moment had grown serious once again.
"Hmm," he hummed, feeling his own jaw starting to shake of its own volition. Once again, she lifted her head, enough to get his attention and his gaze. The warmth in her heart was nearly overwhelming. If only that would transfer to the rest of her, please and thank you.
It did not.
"Tell me a story."
"Hmf," he responded.
"You were hoping I was going to take a page from the steamy car scene and tell you to put your hands on me, weren't you?"
"Maybe."
"In case you haven't noticed, my hands are on you." She used the arm wrapped around his waist to lift the hem of his shirt and planted a freezing hand on the bare skin of his back. He practically leapt in surprise.
"Jesus Christ, Kate!" he yelped, and she chuckled despite herself.
"I'm sorry," she replied, genuinely, completing the sentiment by replacing his shirt and rubbing the same place to create a little bit of friction. She giggled again, gently. The back and forth- it was making this whole 'locked in a freezer' thing a little bit easier.
"Just tell me a story," she asked again, resettling closer and nestling her face into the nook of his neck. Her cold skin sent a shiver down his spine and they both pretended not to notice. He rubbed her arm up and down, gently.
"Once upon a time, there was a pretty princess who lived a top the tallest tower of the biggest castle-" she cut off his fairytale with a light, half-hearted swat to the chest.
"Shut up," she told him, playfully, and then, after a long moment of heavy breathing, "Tell me what Nikki Heat would do."
"In this scenario, is Rook present?" He asked her, hypothetically.
"Would you write it-" there was a brief pause. "Any other way?"
"No," he chuckled, his stomach clutching painfully at the reflex. He winced and thanked god she didn't see it. "Well we can rule out the gun theory, since you did a fine job of disproving the legitimacy of that working," he teased. She poked his side, softly, before his voice dropped an octave, breathing his story into her ear.
"Nikki locked the safety and threw her gun down, defeated. It slid across the icy floor, landing in a corner with her equally abused, and signal-less, cell phone. There was only one thing left to do, Nikki realized. They needed to generate some Heat."
"You think you're too damn clever, don't you?" she interrupted. She was outwardly exasperated but inwardly grateful for his jest- she was thinking less and less about the cold.
"Only when I'm clever," he quipped back. His lungs constricted with every word.
"So not ever, really?"
"Ouch, my ego," if he wasn't busy holding her as close as physics would allow, he would have exaggerated with a hand to his chest wound.
"Your ego seems to be the least of our problems," she whispered, growing solemn again. "No one knows where we are. No one's looking for us. As far as anyone's concerned, we are both curled up in our respective homes, warm and toasty."
"Hey," His tug on her body forced her to look into his eyes. "We're not going to die, okay? We don't have music to drown by," he reasoned.
"I like your creativity with the Titanic reference, but we aren't drowning."
"My point exactly." There was a long, heavy silence. It hurt to breath.
"It's so cold," she finally whispered, and he felt her grip on his body weakening, the time between her breaths growing longer and longer. "I can't feel my body."
"Is this where I tell you to never let go?" he murmurs into her hair, all the strands frozen and sticking together. He's hoping the warmth from his breath will wash over her temple.
"Listen, Castle," she begins her voice hardly even a whisper anymore. Less and less floating breath hangs between them and he watches helplessly as her eyes begin to flutter closed. "I just want you to know how much I lo-" her voice faded until it was nothing.
Less than nothing, it wasn't even the smoke-like breath taking shape in front of her.
Cheesy? Yes.
Review? Please.
