Hi. Okay, I know as far as my other stories go I'm being a first class pain, but one-shot are soooo much easier to finish than anything else. However, I am working on it so there should be updates soon. All that's left for me to say is enjoy and that I do not ownthe television show Castle or any of the characters therein *sob*.
Wake-up Call.
Beep-beep-beep.
Beep-beep-beep.
Beep-beep-SLAM.
My hand comes down on the snooze button on the alarm clock. Four a.m. Your alarm. I groan a little and roll over, hoping to find you there, warm and solid and simply there, ready for an early morning cuddle. My arms reach out . . . into emptiness. I open my eyes a little widen, searching for you with all my senses, only to find that you're not there, holding me so close that your soft breathing tickles my ear. My first, groggy thought is, are you in the shower or the kitchen making coffee?
Then the events of the previous evening come rushing back to me, an unwelcome assault on my memory. The fight. The words we said to each other. About each other. Shouting. I told you to get out, that I never wanted to see you again. I made you leave the bed. I presumed you went to sleep on the sofa. I drag myself out of bed and trudge into the living room, secretly hoping to see you lying there, curled uncomfortably under the old threadbare rug that usually lies flung across the back of the ancient, sagging sofa. I want to make up, to say sorry for what I said and have you do the same.
But you're not there either. I search the entire apartment, but there's no sign of you anywhere. I check the living room again, though I know it's stupid and there's no way you could have suddenly appeared there, and find . . .
A note. From you. I can tell from the handwriting, long looping script that's almost like chicken scratch. I quickly scan the note, and the more I read, the deeper my heart sinks. It says that you've left, you've had enough, can't take it anymore, won't. No more coming in second place. I've made it clear what I want, so that's it. You're gone.
I sink to the floor, ignoring the sofa, the chairs and even the coffee table, and put my head in my hands. I can't believe it. At first I don't understand, then I think back to what clues may have given you the impression that someone, anyone, could take your place.
Coffee. Jokes and laughter. Long hours sat in front of the 'murder board'. Fighting over M&M's. as I sit, head in my hands, I finally start to piece together what you must have seen, and been tortured by, since the start. Shoulders shaking, I take a shuddering breath and reach for the phone, oblivious to the time. I dial the all-too familiar number and press the phone to my ear, the dialling tone then a muted ringing sounding. Someone picks up the phone, groaning a little.
"Who is it? Do you know what time it is, 'cause evidently . . ."
"Castle?" Ugh. I sound like a small child searching for something, needy and vulnerable. But after my recent revelation, that is exactly how I feel. He stops, faltering, and I'm not sure whether it's cause he heard me or his brain's still too tired to form coherent sentences at its usual speed. I clear my throat and try again.
"Rick?"
"Kate?"
