Title: Choices
Summary: Following a PTSD episode, Kate has a choice to make.
Rating: M - Heavy angst, character death, adult situation(s).
Disclaimer: The usual. Sadly. Also, there are spoilers contained herein for Rise, Cops & Robbers and Kill Shot, at the very least.
Author's Note: Okay, so first off: my sincerest apologies to all of you who are still following both Layers and/or Demons' Run. I've been swamped in my personal life, and haven't had the energy to tackle the latest chapters of either of those. I will be updating them both soon, I promise. Writing this one has helped me deal with a few things that I needed to work through. Originally intended as a one-shot, this one just got too big and unwieldy and has been split into 2 chapters (or maybe 3, depending on how much Beckett rambles on). My heartfelt thanks go to my beta and muse, Manuxinhace, for going over this one for me, even though I know she's not a fan of heavy angst. Apparently,t he fluff in the following chapters is worth it... :-P Anyhoo, your thought are, as always, much appreciated.
Cheers,
NevynR
Beckett closed the door to her apartment behind her quickly, locking it immediately. Dropping her bag carelessly to the floor, she headed straight to the windows, her eyes darting across the rooftops outlined against the cloudy night sky. Keeping her silhouette out of view, she twitched the curtains closed. Her breath coming faster, she did a quick circuit of the rest of the apartment, checking the windows were locked, the curtains drawn.
Anxiously, she went back to the front door again, checking the locks were in place, one hand resting on her service pistol. A frown crossed her face as a thought occurred to her. Reaching out, she flicked the light switch, plunging the entry into darkness. Pulling out her cell phone with one hand, she unlocked it, and used it's light to navigate by as she meticulously turned off every light.
The darkness providing some measure of comfort, she found herself in the kitchen, back pressed hard against the cool surface of her cupboard doors, her knees drawn up in front of her as she sat of the floor, pistol clenched in one hand so tight her knuckles were starting to ache. Long minutes passed, and the only sound she could hear was the harsh noise of her own breathing, loud in her ears. Her heart thudding painfully, she let the phone slip from her fingers, clattering against the tiles as her fingers reached up to brush the scar between her breasts. Tentatively grazing the raised flesh, her fingers traced upwards, feeling the fluttering of her pulse, the act of noticing it causing her throat to tighten.
Drawing a shaky breath, she tried to calm herself, closing her eyes for a second. It shouldn't have mattered, in the pitch blackness, but somehow the instant her eyelids slid closed she was assaulted by memories of earlier that day. The way her heart had leaped as the squad car next to her flicked it's siren on, the sudden loss of control as her legs refused to hold her upright when the door slammed closed, the overwhelming cacophony of noises, the press of people at the precinct, everything rushed back with startling clarity. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Becket tried to force the images, the feelings from her mind. For a moment, she thought she would be able to tough it out, to regain control as the sensations dimmed, but her hope was short-lived.
A shocked gasp tore from her throat as her chest constricted, the memory of the bullet ripping through her catching her off-guard. Fingers still tracing the scar, she could almost feel the warm, slippery blood between her fingers, that creeping coldness teasing at the edges of her vision once more. In her mind, the crisp, perfect blue of the sky was again replaced by the equally perfect blue eyes of her partner, filled with concern as he begged her to stay.
Now, as on that horrible day, it was his words which pulled her back form the abyss.
I love you, Kate.
Knowing how he felt had brought the faintest of smiles to her lips, even as she lay dying. Not being able to tell him how she felt kept her heart beating, even when it should have stopped, gave it the courage to beat again when she flatlined. Betrayed by her walls when it counted, she had stupidly held her tongue when he came to see her once she woke. Now, her heart thundering so hard she thought it might break a rib, her breath coming in short pants and starting to feel the effects of hyperventialtion, Kate gave in. The fear that gripped her as the sniper kept killing merged seamlessly with her own fears of the shooting, intensified beyond anything she thought she knew, she felt her walls start to give, even as she let go of coherent thought. Operating on auto-pilot, her left hand searched blindly across the cool tiles for her dropped phone.
Fingers grasping it, her eyes still shut tight, Beckett unlocked it, not needing to look to know what she was doing. On instinct, she hit speed dial #2, the phone pressed hard against her ear.
Barely three rings later, she let out a terrified breath as she heard the call get answered.
"Beckett?" The sound of his voice loosened the knot in her chest slightly, a small noise slipping out a she clenched her teeth, trying to pull herself together. "Kate? Are you okay?" The alarm clear in his tone, Beckett knew he was only seconds from dropping everything and coming over as fast as he could. Barely audible, she replied, her voice scratchy.
"I need you..." Echoing his request from the bank incident, Kate did the only thing that made any sense to her. Everything was better when Castle was around. He'd promised he would be there for her, and she needed him now. She was adrift in a sea of bad memories, and the only thing that she knew of that could anchor her was Castle, her rock, her friend, her partner. She could hear the sounds of him moving around the loft for a moment, before the distinctive jangle of keys let her know that he was on his way.
"Beckett? Where are you?" The slight puffing over the phone told her that Castle was jogging, already on his way to the elevator. Breathing past the terror gripping her throat, she managed to reply.
"Home." Her response was cut off as a car backfired in the street, the echo slamming into her like a kick to the chest. Dropping the phone, she surged to her feet and ran for the bedroom in a blind panic. Her sense of space disturbed by the flood of memories racing through her mind, she misjudged the location of the doorway, her hip slamming into the frame. Barely noting the searing pain, she stumbled, her foot catching on the edge of the rug. Spinning as she fell, Beckett didn't even have time to brace herself as the back of her head hit the table, and everything went black.
Puffing, Castle knocked on the door to Beckett's apartment. Holding his breath for several seconds, he waited for a response. Silence was all he heard form inside. Dialling her phone for the tenth time since her call was cut off, he listened. The sounds of the phone ringing could be heard inside, but nothing from the detective.
His worry spiking even higher, Castle fished his keys out of his pocket, slipping the spare that Kate had given him into the lock and turning it. A sigh of relief slipped out as he recalled her handing it to him the day they had all helped her move in. Ryan and Esposito had stayed for the beer and pizza with which Beckett had nominally bribed them, and Castle had covered the cost of the supplies. Both gone almost an hour, the two of them had just flopped on the couch and quietly finished their drinks, and another bottle each. Checking the time, the author had made his apologies and was heading to the door, when her hand on his shoulder brought him to a halt. Turning, he'd looked at her quizzically. Glancing towards her hands, a soft smile formed as she handed him a single silver key.
"In case something happens, Castle, so you don't have to kick the door down again."
Silently thanking whomever might be listening for her forethought, he stepped inside. Stopping abruptly in the darkness, he reached out in the faint illumination from the hall light. Flicking the switch, he cast his eyes rapidly around the room.
Not seeing signs of a struggle, he headed for the kitchen, calling out for her as he went. He paused when he saw the phone, lying face down in the middle of the kitchen floor. Frowning, he glanced around, seeing no blood or any indication why it would be there, carelessly dropped.
Still moving, he glimpsed her lower leg on the bedroom floor. His gut churning, he almost ran down the hall, skidding to a halt as soon as he made it through the door.
"Oh, god, Kate!" He exclaimed, seeing the spreading pool of blood forming behind her head, staining the rug. Kneeling beside her, he gently took her pulse with one hand, the other feeling the back of her skull for breaks. Nothing but a large lump and still-warm blood met his fingers. Her pulse rapid and strong, he breathed a small sigh of relief, even as he dialled 911 with the hand not covered in blood.
Not again... He thought, his own mind snapping back to the last time he had felt his fingers coated with her blood. Please, wake up...
Castle sat in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room, his head in his hands. Only moments later, he was pulled from his torment by the unmistakable sounds of Esposito's arrival.
"Bro! What's going on? Is Beckett okay?" Letting out a tired sigh, Castle replied, shaking his head.
"They are checking her out still."
"What happened?" Lanie demanded. Castle jerked, startled to see the ME arrive with the detective. Running his hand through his hair, the author gave them the brief summary, starting with the phone call, and ending with the ambulance ride.
Before any more questions could be asked, his phone rang again. Glancing at the caller ID, he winced, standing up and walking away form the others before he hit the answer button.
"Hey..." He paused. "No, they are still checking her out. How far away are you?" Nodding, even though he knew the caller couldn't see him, he went on. "See you soon."
He slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket and walked back to where Esposito stood. His expression a little more relaxed, he spoke.
"That was Jim, he'll be here in five."
"You called him already?" Lanie asked, her expression clearly saying she felt for Kate's father, having to wait in the hospital again for news on his daughter.
"Yeah," He replied. "I called him as soon as we got here. I didn't want to call him while we were still en route... It was bad enough I was calling him to let him know that Kate was hurt again. He didn't need the sound of the sirens on top of that." Rick drew a shaky breath and let it out slowly. Sinking back into the chair, he tried to force himself to relax. Despite the situation, he couldn't help the small twitching of his lips as he noted that Esposito's hand was firmly clasped in Lanie's, her head resting on his shoulder as they sat in silence, waiting for news.
The minutes passed in near silence, the ticking of the clock irritating in it's casual marking of the passage of time. The sound of rapid footsteps on the hard floor attracting his attention, Rick looked down the hall and saw Jim almost jogging towards them. Standing, he moved forward.
Extending his hand, Jim squeezed briefly, his face anxious. His free hand gripped Castle's shoulder.
"Thanks, Rick. If you hadn't found her..." He trailed off, noting the expressions of the group, continuing. "Still nothing?" Before Castle had a chance to answer, the doors swung open, and a doctor walked though.
"Family of Kate Beckett?" He asked. Jim turned and nodded. "She's stable. She hit her head pretty hard, and lost a lot of blood. She's stable now, but..." He paused, looking at the group. His gaze fixed on Jim, he went on. "She hasn't regained consciousness. Nothing is showing up on the MRI, so we are just keeping her comfortable for the moment. She should wake up by herself soon."
They all relaxed at the news Beckett would live. Jim let out a sigh of relief, asking,
"When can we see her?"
"Right away." The doctor replied. "No more than two at a time though."
Needing no discussion, Esposito nodded at Castle and sat back down next to Lanie. As much as they wanted to go in, Castle and Jim had first dibs. Following the doctor, Castle held the door open for Jim, letting it swing closed behind them.
Jim reached out, brushing the hair from his daughter's forehead before placing a gentle kiss against her pallid skin. His voice broken, he spoke softly to her.
"Oh Katie... You had us all so worried again." He smoothed her hair tenderly, tears running down his cheeks. A small sound behind him caught his attention, only to find that Castle had moved a chair into place for him to rest on. A silent nod of acknowledgement was all it took, and the author walked quietly around to the other side of the bed, taking his partner's hand in his own. Hooking his foot behind the leg of another chair, he slid it towards himself and sat, mirroring Jim's position.
Unable to form words capable of expressing how he was feeling, Castle contented himself with holding her hand, his thumb tracing absent circles on the back of it as he watched the pulse flicker on the side of her neck, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest reassuring him that she was still alive. Now, all they had to do was wait...
Beckett opened her eyes slowly, the absence of her panic attack confusing her. The last thing she remembered was being on the phone to Castle, and freaking out and then... this. Looking around her, she saw that she stood on a barren plain, stretching emptily as far as the eye could see. Shifting her feet, she wondered why her heels didn't seem to sink into the dark grey, almost silvery sand beneath her feet.
There was an absence of air movement, and no traces of noise. Unable to even hear her own heartbeat, Beckett grappled with what her senses were telling her. There was no scent, it wasn't cold or hot, dry or muggy, it just... was. She just... was.
Spinning around in place, she almost fell over when she saw two full-length, free-standing mirrors behind her. They weren't there seconds before, she was sure of it. Reaching out, she ran her fingertips over the dark mahogany of the frame, half expecting her hand to pass right through.
She heard a whisper, and spun around once more. Unable to pinpoint the source of the noise, she froze when it came again. Not sure if the whispering was in her mind or not, she listened as best she could.
The sounds growing in strength, she was soon able to make out words, the same words, repeated over and over:
"You have a choice, Katherine Beckett. Nothing is fixed, but choose you must." The moment she clearly heard the words, they ceased, leaving nothing but fading echoes in her mind. Confused, she turned back to face the only things she could see: the mirrors.
Frowning, she stepped closer to them, waving one hand up and down in front of them. The reflections did not move at all, frozen in place. Looking closer, she realised they weren't exactly reflections, more like images of herself, frozen behind the glass. In each, there were minute differences: one wore her hair up, the other down, one had heels on, the other wore flats, little things, but taken together showed two totally different versions of herself.
Reaching out, she touched the glass of the mirror on the left. The moment her fingers brushed the cool surface of the glass, they stuck. Unable to tug herself free, Beckett gripped the frame of the mirror itself and pushed, hoping to knock the stand over.
As soon as her other hand touched the frame, the image rippled, the glass billowing outwards like a curtain in the breeze. Flowing over her fingers like quicksilver, the silvery glass rapidly covered her, slipping under her clothes and closing over her face. Blinded, she dimly realised that the coolness of the glass molding itself to her skin was the first sensation she had felt since waking up on the plain. Unable to hold her breath any longer, she let out the air in her lungs, and in that instant everything changed.
Gasping, she sat upright, her hands flying to her face, feeling, searching. Finding her skin untouched by the strange glass, she let out a sigh of relief. Her reprieve lasting only a moment, she continued to explore her face, finding it... different. Glancing around the room, she found herself in the lounge room of her apartment. There too, things were not what she expected. She had more books, and less artwork on her walls. Unusually tidy, the room felt... stale, almost as if she hadn't been there in some time, but the dishes in the sink belied that assumption. Catching sight of her own reflection, she gasped.
Her hair was cut short again, as short as it had been when she first met Castle. The dark circles under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and too many hours at the precinct, the traces of grey hair at her temples and the lines on her face testified to the years which had passed.
The thoughts of the precinct and her partner sent her mind spinning, filling her with memories, sensations, experiences of the years that had passed.
Once again, she sat at the swings and spoke to her partner, explaining about her walls, and how she wasn't able to be in the kind of relationship she wanted until her mother's murder was put behind her. Not simply watching the events unfold, she was there, speaking to him, her palms sweaty as her fingers fidgeted, hoping, praying that he would understand. The feeling of relief that swept through her as he responded to her felt as sweet as it had the first time.
She felt the passage of time, and months of experience were dumped into her memory: the frantic search for answers, the almost manic drive to catch the bastard that killed her mother and tried to do the same to her. She could replay every moment of those horrible months, able to see from her semi- detached perspective just how far down the rabbit hole she was falling.
Castle was there, holding her back. No, she realised, he was just trying to get her to take it slower, to stop her headlong rush towards a final confrontation. She could see her increasing irritation with him, could feel the tension rising between them as their careful dance slowly morphed from light-hearted flirting and banter into something more, a twisted parody of their former relationship. He still brought her coffee every morning, but her responses to him became shorter, sharper. Every time she felt the flickers of affection for him within her, she buried them, forcing herself to keep those feeling hidden, at least until the wall was down.
Then, She felt herself think. And only then can I even think about it.
To her increasing frustration, the wall remained firmly in place, and she threw herself into the case harder and harder. She stopped listening to Castle when he told her to go home and rest, stopped eating, even when he brought takeout to her desk and placed it in front of her, and finally, she stopped answering the phone when he called.
Time passed, and still she fell further into the hole. Ryan and Esposito withdrew from her as did Lanie. No, she remembered, she'd driven them away, because they all wanted her to stop, to look at what it was doing to her. Didn't they know how much it meant to her?
More time passed, and it seemed as though all she did was work cases during the day, and her mothers case, her case, when darkness fell.
Months passed, and she had to go to the doctor for sleeping tablets, to block out the nightmares. Drug-induced blackness was better than the nights full of endless horrors that paraded around in her mind whenever she closed her eyes, at least that was what she told herself.
Not long after that, she went back to the doctor for anti-depressants after she lost her temper in the interrogation room, and broke a suspect's nose. Three weeks forced leave later, she returned to the precinct calmer, more relaxed. At least on the outside, that was. Inside, she needed the anti-depressants to face the day, and the sleeping tablets to face the night.
That was her routine for the next few years, she realised, startled at just how much time passed as she still threw herself into the case with everything she had. Never carrying much spare weight, she realised one night just how gaunt she had become as she stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom, drying herself off. Able to see every rib clearly, she noted in an absent way that the bones of her hips were more prominent too. Making a mental note to try to eat more often, she honestly meant to, but then she found another lead in the case, and her newfound resolve was quickly forgotten.
Three weeks later, when the lead turned out to be nothing more than a red herring, she stopped by a bottle shop on the way to her apartment from the precinct. Hours later, she lay on the couch, comfortably numb for the first time that she could remember.
Waking up still on the couch, her cheek stuck to the leather by her sweat from the night before was less horrific than she'd thought it would be, and the headache seemed to fade with alarming rapidity when she washed her morning pills down with two stiff cups of instant coffee. Barely even shuddering at the taste, she remembered the last time she'd had real coffee: the day Castle had stopped coming to the precinct. His final words to her as he looked at her, tears in his eyes were
"Beckett, when I said always, I meant it, but you need to meet me halfway. You're losing it, losing yourself to it. Please, put it down, even for a week, just get out and live life a little... I'll be here for you, just call me when you are ready to try, please..."
That had been two months ago, and true to his word, he'd waited. Not one call, not even a text message, and she couldn't bring herself to care. She was so close, what if the next lead was just around the corner? How could she solve the case if she was taking time off...? Didn't he realise that the only way they could be together was if she solved her mother's murder first?
She blinked back the stinging of tears in her eyes as she recalled with startling clarity now just how many nights after that she'd come home to her empty apartment and drank her dinner, the sleeping pills being chased by more booze. Steadily, stealthily, she saw that she was drinking more. One bottle used to last her a week, soon it became two a week, and after a year, it had become one a night.
The memories finally stopped unwinding through her, and she looked down, tears falling freely. Gasping, she saw the broken glass scattered across the floor, glittering shards hiding amongst the empty bottles that littered her floor.
The pain in her wrists drew her attention next, followed by the spreading pool of blood beneath her. Shaking, she raised her hands, inspecting the wounds. The wrong placement and shape for accidentally tripping and landing on the sharp edges, the only way they could have been made was... Her thoughts were interrupted as she noticed the blood welling from shallower cuts on her fingers as well.
A fresh series of sobs broke out as she felt the wave of despair washing through her again, the emptiness of her loft, her life, her heart, all echoing inside like the tolling of some monstrous bell. She remembered taking the largest piece of glass in her fingers, the edges biting into her soft skin, blood seeping around it already as she placed the edge against her wrist and dragged. Through the whiskey and sleeping tablets, she realised that it didn't hurt as much as she'd thought after all. Before the glass grew too slippery to hold, she had transferred it to the other hand and repeated the actions on the other wrist, the dull throb as she bled was somehow comforting.
Wiping her bloody fingers on her pants, she reached for her phone with trembling hands. A steady patter of blood hitting the floor boards, the impact sent tiny spatters out. Unlocking the phone, she dialled Castle's number without hesitation, despite the fact that it had been ages since she'd rung him, or even spoken to him. Ignoring the bloody fingerprints on the screen, she hit the call connect button and raised it.
Holding it to her ear, she felt the warm stickiness of the blood flowing from her wrist soaking the neck of her shirt, but she was beyond caring any more. He answered on the third ring, catching her by surprise. Somehow, she'd thought he would ignore the call, after all, wasn't that what she'd been doing since the shooting, ignoring him?
"Kate?" He asked, confusion and worry evident in his voice. The sound of him, even over the phone after so long broke something inside her, and all she could do was sob. "Kate? Are you at your apartment? What's wrong?"
Swallowing her tears, she managed to reply.
"Castle, I'm so sorry..."
"Hold on, Beckett, I'll be there as soon as I can..." Worry blossoming in his tone, he knew something bad had happened. If he was worried before, her next words slammed into him like a punch to the gut.
"I failed her... and I'm sorry for hurting you, Rick. I just... wanted you to know I love you before..." She fell silent, and all his begging couldn't rouse a word from her after that.
Less than ten minutes later, she lay on the polished floor, phone still active next to her ear, covered by the fan of her hair. The door slamming open as he kicked it in, Castle barely paused as he saw her. Rushing to her side, he cradled her head in his lap, fingers brushing the hair from her forehead as he frantically felt for a pulse with his free hand. Slow and faint, it was there, just.
The moving of her head pulling her back into consciousness, she opened her eyes and saw him above her, and the memory of the last time they had been in this position merged with the current reality. Always, he had said, and again he proved it. Here he was, her gentle, caring angel, come to bear her away at the end. Tears falling from her in a steady rain, she felt a bittersweet smile cross her features as she gazed up at him, the words she'd fought so long to hide from herself easing their way past her traitorous lips once more.
"Rick... I love you Rick..."
"Kate, stay with me, the ambulance is on it's way..."
"Please, forgive me, Rick, for hurting you, for wasting so much time..."
"Just stay with me Kate, please. I love you Kate, I never stopped. I can't lose you again." Her eyes slid closed and the heartbeat beneath his fingers slowed as she let out a soft sigh, her words faint.
"Love you... sorry..." Her lips stilled, and from inside the prison of her mind, Beckett felt the wall around her heart rise up above her, impossibly high. Awestruck, she could see every brick in it, and remembered as she placed every single one. The labour of her life had been this wall, built to protect her heart from harm, and here it stood, massive and monstrous. Cutting off the light, it towered over her and trembled for an instant, before crashing down, the wave of blackness sweeping over her, taking her down with it even as she heard the heartbroken howl of the man beside her, the breaking of his own heart as audible to her as the crashing of the bricks from her damned wall.
Blackness swallowed her, final and absolute.
Terrified and gasping, Beckett's eyes slammed open, searching, wondering. She'd felt her life slip away, the chill of the grave sucking her down.
Why am I still here? She thought, startled to even be thinking at all.
Finally registering what she saw, she staggered, her legs giving way beneath her. The silvery sand beneath her was harder than it looked, and she paused as she went to rub her thighs absently. Looking down at her wrists, she was surprised to see them whole, the skin unbroken. Everything had seemed so real to her before, but now she could feel the weight of the memories in her head, but removed. They were there, but somehow not hers, not entirely.
Turning her eyes to the mirror she had touched, she saw that it was shattered, shards of glass still clinging to the edges of the ruined frame. Glancing at the ground underneath, she was only a little surprised when she failed to find any broken glass on the strange sand.
"Choose..." The voice from before sounded in her mind again, echoing around inside her, growing in volume until she was sure her teeth were vibrating with the feeling.
Drawing a shaky breath, she faced the second mirror, her heart hammering as she braced herself for the experiences she knew she was about to live through.
A/N: Chapter 2 will be a lot less angsty, I promise! :-) remember folks, feedback = love!