AN: I wanted to play with what could have been going through Kate's mind on her last dunk, when we see her just under water staring off, this is my take on what could have possibly been her thoughts. I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here.
Thanks to JoanaCTeixeira for the amazing cover art!
How simple it is, life, all just a series of seconds, bleeding together, making up the moments of our lives.
Some are more significant than others, the milestones, the markers that define us, the ones that are the most memorable, and some so seemingly benign that they pass by without a thought; their value at the time deemed irrelevant.
They are all inevitably linked to the other, those seconds, pieces of our path, like stepping stones to our future. The importance of each never truly realized until examined individually, for if one single second was to be lost, we would not be where we are now.
In the end, it's those seconds that we cling to, reflect upon. They keep us fighting, the desire and determination to keep our story going; and make us weep with loss, when the possibility that we may never get more looms over us.
Tucking her feet more securely beneath her, Kate pulls the blanket up snuggly under her chin, the cold having seeped into her bones, the icy chill still clinging too heavily; even after so many hours.
Listing back against the headboard, she releases a raspy breath, and closes her eyes. The heavy weight of her torture wraps around her and pulls her back into the darkness; she almost died.
She remembers reading about it once, drowning, at a time when the thought that she would ever experience it, was the furthest thing from her mind.
The stages that the mind goes through, the spiraling levels of fear, the desperation to just hang on, those final moments that flash through your mind; before finally succumbing to death.
His hand grasps the back of her head as she struggles to break free, neck muscles straining, her head vibrating violently in an effort to stop the descent into the water.
The water is cold, piercing; the sound of her heart pounding in her ears is magnified by the silence, her jaw aches with the effort not to scream.
His fingers weave into her hair roughly, holding her under as she thrashes wildly, the pull and tug on her scalp excruciating, but she ignores the pain in the desperation to get free.
She fights against her restraints, the rope digging viciously into her wrists. She opens her mouth to scream, but the water flows in, tearing and burning, as it slides like daggers dragging down her throat.
She's yanked out forcefully, her head breaking the water's surface, as her hair whips back and releases a wet slap; the water cascading off and splashing loudly onto the floor.
Her knees slam into the concrete as he throws her to the ground, her gasps and raspy pants echo off the walls as she struggles to suck in painful lungful's of air.
She can barely hear him over her labored breathing, his questions drowned out by her wheezing shuttered inhales, the dank air of the basement seeps into her lungs, and she doubles over on a hack, her body eager to dispel the cold water pooling in her lungs.
Coughing and spewing, she ignores his threats, her need to breathe her only concern.
She stares helplessly into the tank, the sound of her pants reverberate in her ears; the water still violently waving, the ice bobbing like boats in a storm.
Anger swells up inside of her, the flow of oxygen infusing her with strength, his barrage of questions, berating her, but she has no answers for him; he will get nothing from her.
She stares him down, determined to not show weakness, she won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer.
He's taunting her, she knows, wants to see her fight, and she doesn't miss the perverse pleasure that flashes in his eyes when he mentions her mother.
She rages against him, the arms at her back holding her in place, he's just playing with her, the last bit of her energy expelled with her outburst; as her head is plunged back under the water's surface once more.
His voice has a surreal quality to it as it resonates off the metal, the water like a filter, warbled and dreamlike; if only this was.
Her chest is getting tight, the air trapped in her lungs begging to be let out, but she doesn't want to let it go; it's the only air she has left.
Her heart is hammering in her chest, her knees press against the tank in a desperate attempt to get leverage, push back against the hand holding her under.
She's wrenched up, her back arching severely, only to be slammed back in repeatedly, barely seconds passing in between, before she's submerged again.
Her lungs are on fire, the will to not give up is waning, the desire for air consumes her thoughts, the strength to fight fleeing her and she's not sure how much longer she can do this.
She feels the panic leaving her, as she slips into a feeling of calm and tranquility, the silence soothing.
Her heart slows to a steady beat in her chest, even as her mind begins to race. The icy water is like fire in her throat; her skin feels heated by the numbness.
She focuses on the seconds, something to cling to; desperate to make them mean more than just the time she has left.
She's thinks it's been five seconds under, and she sees them in the alley as his lips meet hers and a flood of emotions wash over her. Their first kiss, and five seconds she imagines was all the time it took for her to realize she wanted him; she had been lying to herself for so long.
She's thinks it's been eight seconds under, and she sees herself standing outside his door, her walls down and the desire to have him overwhelming. She just wants him, and eight seconds she imagines was the all the time it took for her to look into his eyes and finally tell him the truth; she was done denying it.
She thinks it's been twelve seconds under, and she sees herself standing on that bomb as she watched him walk away. She loves him, and twelve seconds she imagines was all the time it took, before she realized if she was never going to see him again, she needed to tell him what was in her heart; she was ready for him to know.
She thinks it's been eighteen seconds under, and she's in the park, her heart breaking when she thought he was going to walk away. He was proposing, and eighteen seconds she imagines was all the time it took for her to realize that more, meant her; they are getting married.
She thinks it's been twenty five seconds under, and she sees herself walking down the aisle. Their wedding, and twenty five seconds she imagines is all the time it will take for her to look into his eyes, flash him a brilliant smile as he slides the ring on to her finger and she says the words she has longed to say, "I do"; she's going to be his wife.
She's barely aware of the hand at the back of her head as she's vehemently jerked out, her body and mind broken, the inevitability of her death weighting heavily on her mind.
As the darkness wraps it unsympathetic arms around her, and hopelessness descends, she sees the seconds for the value they had; for each second, for better or worse, was a lesson learned, a decision made; a piece of the path taken.
The clarity that they were not just the insignificant passing of time, but each second was part of the most important moments of her life.
In life, not a single second should be wasted and she vows that if she gets the chance, somehow survives; she will never take a single second for granted again.
Additional AN: A HUGE thank you to Tshlw once again for all the help, suggestions, beta and for keeping this story out of the virtual trash I wanted to put it in. Also, thanks to KJF3333 (Falshpoint) for the beta and a shout out to JoanaCTeixeira, for reading and passing along your suggestions..fistbump!. If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized, you can follow that at Castleficlets.