Diving in Deep
Spoiler Alert: This is a one-shot based on the end scene from 4x15 "Pandora", when Kate and Castle's car is run off the road at Pier 32 into the Hudson. (At least I think it was the Hudson…might have been the East River.)
The black Escalade appears from nowhere, skidding round the corner, with a scream of rubber. Kate is taken by surprise, but she manages to gun the engine, propelling them forward while she tries to keep a grip on the asphalt, which is slick with diesel. But she overcompensates on the steering, and the car weaves from side to side, while she frantically tries to correct her mistake.
Castle is uncharacteristically quiet beside her, swiveling round in his seat to get a better view of the car behind. Fear has pressed the mute button on his running commentary, and Kate realizes this can't be a good sign. In fact it means that the SUV is getting nearer.
Not good at all.
When she looks in the rearview mirror, the Escalade is now so close that if fills the entire frame. She can see the vague outline of two male faces through the windshield. But the detail is blurred by the reflection of clouds and grey sky bouncing off the toughened glass.
"Beckett," says Castle finally, an edge of warning to his voice.
"Just hold on," Kate instructs, trying to tamp down the panic rising in her throat.
The low-rise dockyard buildings flash by on either side, abandoned and rotting in the damp, misty air. They speed forward and suddenly the Hudson stretches out before them; a steely grey expanse of silted, muddy water, cold and dangerous and racing towards them at over 50mph.
Kate's mind is freezing up in absolute panic, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The only words that form in her brain are prophetic and dangerous. A quote from Captain 'Sully' Sullenberger swims into her mind, "We can't do it. We're gonna be in the Hudson."
She hopes they're about to have their own Miracle escape, because that's the only place they're headed now, as the Escalade surges forward and collides with their rear fender, propelling the Crown Vic towards the edge of the seawall, launching the car up into the air.
"Hold on, Castle!" yells Kate in abject terror, as they take off, solid ground disappearing from beneath the car's tires, wheels spinning against empty space…and deep, dark, roiling water.
They hang in mid-air for what seems like minutes, each fraction of a second elongating with the quality of an action scene shot in slow Mo.
Kate's neck is jarred by the impact, and she feels as if her brain has just ricocheted against the front of her skull, momentarily stunning her. But then they're landing, hard. The car hits the water, tipping forward, the hood disappearing first, waves lapping at navy blue metal. The airbags explode, white ghosts looming in front of their eyes, striking Kate's face violently, throwing her brain backwards this time, to strike the rear of her skull.
They float briefly, both too stunned to move, and then time starts running out.
Water, icy cold and clouded with mud, begins to rush in through gaps in the doors and windows. They start to sink like a stone. The cold is rushing up around their knees before they're jolted into action. It's circling their waists by the time they scramble to free themselves from this watery tomb.
Air rushes out through the top of the car as Castle unbuckles his seatbelt and works to force open his door. The water pressure from outside prevents him from opening it fully, and the thudding panic in his chest is debilitating him even further. He works to lower the window, hands shaking, adrenalin surging, only succeeding in lowering it halfway before the power gives out. Water swamps the electrics, rendering them useless.
Kate's fingers won't work. Her vision is blurred and the pain in her head is blinding her. A curl of red stains the water around her, blood trickling down from her nose to spread spidery, inky tentacles through the light-shot river.
Castle has managed to free himself and he turns to check on Kate as the car lurches downward once more. The water is past Kate's chest and she's still fiddling helplessly with her seatbelt, trapped between the steering wheel and the bobbing airbag, panic widening her dark eyes, a bright, red streak of blood marring her pale, beautiful face.
"Kate," says Castle, his fingers touching the painful damage to her nose, gently washing away the blood, like Nero fiddling while Rome burns.
"Castle! Can't get out. My belt is stuck. Go. Get out now," orders Kate, her voice weak and shaking as the cold water rushes up around her neck.
"I'm not leaving you here," he insists, acid burning his throat, leaving a cold metallic taste. He wants to be sick. But she needs him now.
He tugs on the seat belt, but the catch won't budge and he can't get nearer to her with the airbag in the way.
"Please," she whimpers, the cold slowing her down, dulling her senses even more. "Alexis. Rick, go. Please?" she begs, her voice echoing in the rapidly sinking tin can that their car has become.
He takes in their predicament. Realizes that the only way to save Kate is to save himself first. Fights the urge to curse at God, at something, for doing this to them again.
"I'll be right back, Kate. I promise," he says, trying to communicate more with his eyes than anything these brief words can say. "Just stay with me, okay. Try not to panic."
He braces himself against the console, rams his feet against the partially open door, succeeding in forcing it all the way open. More water floods in, and the car tilts with the weight of it and Castle's higher body mass balanced all down one side.
He reaches back, squeezes her arm, trying to comfort her. A promise.
The blue tinge to her lips squeezes at his chest, forcing him on. So, he takes a deep breath, sucking in the last of the air that's trapped like a giant bubble against the roof of the car. Then he ducks under the doorframe and kicks off, swimming towards the surface, towards the light.
When he emerges in a rush of bubbles, breaking the oily surface, the black Escalade is gone. He looks around frantically for anyone who might help them. But there's no one there. He kicks his feet, sculling the water with his hands as he tries to stay afloat. His waterlogged clothes are a dead weight, so he shrugs off his jacket, and watches it float away.
He's never been a boy scout, but he carries a penknife on his key ring. The most action it's seen lately is the peeling of an orange, and now it's time to press this Swiss Army, badboy into service, to see what it can really do. He fishes it out of his pocket, grips it firmly, and refills his lungs with air, gasping several times, before plunging back down into the depths.
The car is where he left it, though it's slipped a little deeper. He swims down below the surface, oil stinging his eyes as he searches for the open passenger door; his way back to Kate.
She's still trapped behind the wheel, the water now lapping at her nose. The lower half of her face is a ghostly pale yellow and she's stopped moving. Her eyes are closed.
Castle lungs are burning when he reenters the car, his weight forcing it to sink further. The water rises to cover all of Kate's face, and her hair floats freely around her head, curls loosening, drifting, like seaweed.
He cups her chin with his free hand, presses his mouth against hers, parting her pale lips to feed her the little oxygen he can spare, then he gets to work on the airbag. He slashes the white fabric and stale bubbles rush out. Kate's body floats forward a little, rising out of her seat, now restrained only by the faulty seatbelt.
Castle grips the knife once more. The blade cuts into his fingers as he grasps the woven fabric of the harness that's tying Kate down. He saws at each strand frantically, bubbles rising from his nose with each little exertion, until the belt comes free.
Fighting down the panic of a man on the verge of drowning, he grasps Kate under her arms and pulls her against his chest. His feet kick furiously until they begin to float out of the car, rising rapidly towards the surface, silvery clouds of air bubbles accompanying them on their fast ascent.
When he bursts through the surface of the river, Kate is hanging limply in his arms. He sucks in oxygen with loud, rasping gasps. His lungs are on fire, his throat raw, eyes streaming. He looks down at the lifeless body of his beautiful Kate, floating in his embrace, and he cups her head gently, whilst his legs kick with all the energy he has left, keeping them both afloat.
Once more he places his mouth over hers, breathing for her, hoping for a miracle. He tries again. The kiss of life never meaning more than it does right now.
Then he paddles them over to the wooden pilings that mark the seawall, pockmarked with sharp grey oyster shells and slimy with dark green, velvety moss. There's no way to get himself out of the river, let alone both of them. The pier is a couple of meters up and there's nothing to grip onto.
He's holding Kate's head up against his shoulder, keeping it out of the water. Her body floats out in front of him, her back against his chest, but he's tiring. The cold water is slowing him too. His energy is draining away. They don't have long left.
In the distance he hears a siren. Cocks his ear to listen. He tightens his grip on Kate's slim torso, kisses her pale, bloodstained cheek and whispers to her.
"Kate, stay with me. Hold on, love. I'm going to get us out of this. Just hang in there."
He's not sure if she can hear him. She's terribly cold and barely breathing. His heart is pounding, not from exertion, but from the creeping fear that this is how they might finally be parted. He has to fight hard to push the darkest of these thoughts away.
Suddenly blue and red lights are bouncing everywhere. Sirens are screaming above him, an EMS truck skidding to a halt just beyond his line of vision. Then men are running, peering over the edge. A line is thrown down to him and he grabs ahold on the first attempt, juggling Kate in his arms. Words of encouragement, and promises of more help to come drift down to him, as he grasps on tight. For them. To her.
A coast guard boat skids into view, bouncing across the moderate chop of the river, riding up on plane, bow wave curling out behind, it's siren echoing through the air. The boat slows, sinks lower in the water as the captain brings her gently alongside. Then hands are reaching over the side, grasping for Kate, and Castle in his confusion is fighting the help, desperate not to let her go.
A barked order brings him to his senses, and he releases Kate to the care of the crew, accepting the hands that reach back over the side to help him aboard after her. The cold air chills him to the bone. His wet clothes stick to his wrinkled skin, and he starts to shiver uncontrollably.
Someone wraps a blanket round his shoulders, though he's not sure who, because his gaze never leaves his partner, lying pale and lifeless in the bottom of the boat.
They wrap her up in blankets, and Castle throws himself onto his knees beside her, his ear to her open mouth, listening for sounds of life, until strong hands pull him away.
The trained first-responder begins chest compressions and Castle holds his breath. When Kate coughs, a splutter of river water escaping her throat, he thinks it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. He shakes free of the hands that hold him back to kneel down at her side, cradling her head softly in his lap.
Her face is so pale, her lips tinged an unhealthy blue, but her eyes are opening; brief blinks as she slowly resurfaces, miniscule water droplets coating her long, dark lashes, glinting like tiny diamonds in the daylight.
Her eyes gain focus, finding his face instantly, with a certainty that shakes him deep inside. Her lips and cheeks are pinking up, oxygen reentering her bloodstream, her heart mercifully still beating.
They stare at one another as the boat nears the jetty. He's holding her hand, clasping it to his chest, thinks he might never be able to let go. And then she smiles weakly at him, squeezes to let him know she's going to be okay. They've made it out again, this indestructible couple.
"Kate," he breathes, his heart constricting in his chest, emotion overpowering him. His tears land on her hair, mingling with the water from the Hudson. Adrenalin drains away, making room for overwhelming exhaustion, and a bone shaking fear that will take hours to dissolve.
"Thank you," she whispers, her throat raw. "My hero," she murmurs, with a small, grateful smile.
"Always," he replies, the word whipped away by the wind as the EMS techs lift Kate gently onto a stretcher, carrying her onto the jetty still clutching firmly to his hand.
"Always."
FIN
A/N I hope you enjoyed that. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
I'm not sure if others have said this already, but I'm wondering if we can take hope for Caskett from the titles of this two-parter.
Pandora = Pandora's Box: the secret of Castle's first muse is now out in the open, throwing Kate's choices/decisions into sharp relief against this new information about her partner. He might be waiting for her, but now she may have competition.
Linchpin = the turning point, the crux of the matter - one that serves to hold together parts or elements that exist or function as a unit. Will this be the transition to a new relationship for Caskett when they realize they are bound to one another? Is Sofia that linchpin? The incitement to more.
The ILY is already out there. If Kate decides to move on romantically in her life without Castle, after finding out about Sofia, then the whole series would collapse, because he wouldn't follow her around if she's with someone else. Not anymore. So the writers can't take that route.
Therefore, I'm concluding that Linchpin may be the start of a turnaround in Caskett's fortunes.
Any thoughts on my little theory? Care to share?