Four A.M. Phone Call
The short rap of knuckles at the door pierced the silence of the lonely, difficult night. Kate, who had been indulging in light reading for an incurable lack of sleep, turned sharply towards the door. The sound of panting could be heard, even through the thick door of her apartment.
She put down her copy of Naked Heat on the couch, and uncrossed her legs carefully, trying not to make a sound. Moving quietly towards the small desk in her living room, she pulled open the drawer, trying still to be as quiet as possible.
Though the panting had quieted a fair bit, another knock startled her into quicker action. She cursed herself for leaving her phone in her room because it required charging. What's the use of handy cell phones if they aren't at hand when you need them? She'd retrieved her back-up piece, the Beretta, and had it ready, clutched tightly in her slightly sweaty palm. But reading the Nikki Heat books had instilled enough paranoia to want her phone, ready to call for back-up if required.
Kate approached the door cautiously, trying to remain behind the concrete walls rather than the more easily penetrable wood of the door, and sneaked a glance through the peep-hole. The hallway looked empty.
If it weren't for the lateness of the hour, she'd have thought it to be one of the building hooligans pulling a prank. If it weren't for the lateness of the hour, she wouldn't be wondering if her tired mind was conjuring up scenes from Naked Heat.
Just as she took a step backwards from the door, she heard another three knocks. Gritting her teeth, she readied her weapon, and threw the door open, ready to shoot.
"Woah! It's just me!" said Castle, while he ducked and covered his face with his forearms.
"Castle! What the hell?" Kate lowered her gun holding arm that felt suddenly limp with relief, and brought her free arm to her chest.
"Kate!" He seemed ridiculously relieved to find her in her house this late at night. Ignoring the gun she still held in her arm, he surged forward to envelop her in a bone crushing hug. "Thank God you're okay," he rasped.
In her state of confusion and shock, Kate's arms lifted up under Castle's and curled around his shoulders, the gun pressing flat against his back. "Castle, what -?"
What was he doing at her apartment in the middle of the night – besides scaring the living daylights out of her? What made him think she wasn't okay? What happened to their boundaries? What was the reason they didn't hug more often?
"You're okay?" he said, pulling back only to frame her face with his hands.
The genuine look of concern both melted her heart and made her reply honestly, rather than the snippy reply that was ready at the tip of her tongue. She caught his hand, bringing it to her side, and pulling him into the apartment. "I'm okay," she said softly, as she closed the door behind them.
"Thank God," he repeated. "I thought they came after you. I thought they got you," he choked out. The bases of his palms dug into closed eyes, as if trying to wipe the scary visions and replace them with darkness.
Brow scrunched, she returned her Beretta to its rightful place, and came to stand in front of him, closer than usual. Whether it gave her more comfort, or him, was debatable. She brought her hands over his, and lowered them so that he'd look at her. See that she was okay.
"What are you talking about?"
"You weren't answering your phone. That's never happened – not at night. I know that Coonan is dead, I know that. But I thought they came back to finish the job – whoever hired him. Maybe they thought Coonan had blabbed. Something. I don't know. You weren't answering," he repeated, looking truly shaken.
"Hey, I'm fine. I promise," she said, closing the distance between them. Her arms went over his shoulder, wrapping around his neck. Her fingers carded through the soft hair at the back of his head, coaxing him to rest his head on her shoulder.
"Why were you up?" he said, turning so she felt his nose against her neck.
"Couldn't sleep." It was unlike her to be that open and honest. Their usual interactions were laced with banter, and teasing, save for those serious moments where Castle always succeeded in surprising her. "Why were you trying to call me in the middle of the night?"
"I was calling you back." His arms around her waist tightened just a bit.
"What?" She hadn't called him.
Castle must have heard the confusion in her voice because he pulled back. Her hands slipped from around him, but remained connected to him over his chest, feeling the still wild thump of his heart. "I got a call from you about half an hour ago, and I heard you crying, and I couldn't – "
He had to swallow the lump in his throat, losing the fight against working himself up again.
" – It took too long. If you were really in trouble," he shook his head, his hair flopping over his forehead. "I took too long."
Kate frowned. "Castle, I didn't call you."
"Yes, you did. See?" He showed her the phone log. Sure enough, he'd received a call from her number.
She shook her head. "I didn't call though."
He paled.
"I was out here on the couch, reading a book." She didn't mention that she was completely absorbed in reading Naked Heat. "At least since the past two hours. My cell is plugged into the wall in my room. It's why I didn't pick up, I didn't hear you calling."
"But –"
"Maybe my phone is on the fritz or something. I've heard power surges can do that."
He nodded, trying to accept her theory, but still looking uncertain. Kate wasn't used to him looking uncertain about anything.
"Come on, Castle. It's almost morning anyway. Have a super early breakfast with me."
At that, Castle cracked a smile for the first time since he came over. His smile widened when she smiled in response. She patted his chest and led the way to the kitchen, knowing that he'd be following behind.
Castle decided that he wouldn't mention how he heard her sobs over the phone. How he was sure they were her because she called out his name. It was her voice. He was sure of it. But here she was, looking tired but otherwise completely alright – even sympathetic over his freak out.
He noticed her face. There were no dried tear-tracks. No puffy eyes, nor red-rimmed lids. Her voice wasn't shaky, and she sounded awake, if a little exhausted.
He wouldn't mention it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to forget it.
No. He would never forget the four a.m. phone call.
A/N: Eh. Sometimes random things don't leave you alone.