Breathing In Your Melodies
She groans and throws the covers off, pulling her body up and against the headboard of her bed. She glares at the red digits of the clock. Its numbers mock her, taunt her inability to drift off and she can feel her anxiety level rising with each passing hour that sleep evades her. She'd swear she could hear the seconds ticking by, counting down the time until she has to get up, and the image that creates in her mind is all too reminiscent of the many near death experiences she's faced in the last few years. The many times she's wondered if her time was up, was out, over and done. She shudders and grips the comforter a little tighter, willing her breathing to even and settle once more.
She's absolutely exhausted. It's been a terrible week so far. The combination of Castle leaving for a book tour in California and a case that kept her at work for the past forty-eight hours have taken everything out of her. Tonight is the first night she's actually made it to her bed, having only caught naps on the break room couch at the precinct over the last couple of days. Yet, the moment she rested her head against the pillow her mind kicked into overdrive.
It's entirely too late…or early, depending on how you look at it. Either way, this is becoming ridiculous. She's only on call tomorrow (today-she mentally corrects herself) but the odds of a body dropping are always pretty high and it's looking more and more like she's fighting a losing battle here with sleep.
She studiously avoids looking at her phone. She doesn't need to call him. She doesn't need to hear his voice. That's silly…right?
She lets out a sigh as she sinks back down into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut again. She's tried everything. Counting sheep, quiet, music…even that damn relaxing sounds app that Castle loaded on her phone before he left. None of it has helped and she just can't figure it out.
So what if it's the first time in weeks that she's stayed at her place. They've spent nights apart. Okay so maybe more together than apart recently. Come to think of it, she can't remember exactly the last time she did stay here by herself. But that's beside the point. She's an independent, grown woman for goodness sake. She can't possibly be this reliant on him for something so simple as sleeping.
The Kate Beckett of four years ago would laugh in her face if she could she herself now. She buries her face into the pillow and groans again. She's never been one to need a man in her life. She's never been this bad at sleeping alone. She's also never known before what it'd be like to have Rick Castle in her life. Completely in her life, in a relationship, in love. And yes, he still drives her insane, makes her go a little crazy sometimes (a lot of times). But he's also a comfort, her best friend, a partner, and she realizes just how much he's come to mean to her.
Call me if you can't sleep. I'll keep you company in bed.
She can still hear the warmth of his words, the sincerity laced underneath the teasing and the flirtatious sparkle in his eyes as he'd said goodbye to her earlier during their Skype chat. She'd rolled her eyes at him. Ridiculous (sweet) but really, ridiculous man.
Goodnight, Castle.
She decides that somehow this is his fault. He must have jedi tricked her mind into needing him tonight.
Ugh. Jedi mind tricks, Kate? Now she's even thinking like him. She lets out another groan and rolls onto her side, tugging at the covers. Why is it so damn stuffy in her room?
Ten minutes later she's pulling them back over her as she shivers. She's really got to get a grip. She's just about to roll to her other side when she hears her phone buzz on the nightstand. Don't be a body, don't be a body, she silently prays as she reaches out for the device.
Hope this doesn't wake you up. Just so you know, I'm dragging you along for the next tour I do. This bed is too empty without you and California is lame. I don't care if that makes me sound pathetic. I miss you, Kate.
She can't help the smile that stretches wide across her face as she reads his text. Oh, the hell with it, who is she kidding? She's pressing the call button before she can stop herself.
"Kate," she hears him breathe her name across the line. "Did I wake you? I shouldn't have texted you so late. I just thought about the time difference and I was lonely and-" he rambles.
She chuckles, interrupting him, "Castle, it's fine. I just…I couldn't sleep either." She tries to keep the frustration from seeping into her voice. But he hears it anyway. He always does.
"Hey, is everything okay?" he asks, suddenly sounding much more alert. She's continually amazed at how he's so attuned to her. She can hear the concern in his voice, imagines him sitting up in bed, waiting for her response, worry causing his forehead to crinkle in that adorable way that makes her want to reach out and smooth the lines of his face, ease it away.
"Yeah, yeah it's fine," she tries to be reassuring. No use in worrying him. Not like there's anything he can do when he's across the country. For the hundredth time tonight she thinks of how silly she's being. Of how many cases she handled before him without this problem.
"You sure?" he presses. "Because you sound kind of like you want to choke your pillow to death right about now, Beckett," he continues. His voice is teasing but she knows it's his way of not letting her off the hook. And really, she doesn't want him to let her off the hook anymore because even though she doesn't know how he does it, he always seems to make things better, lighter. He finds a way to take the weight of her days and make them manageable.
She sighs. "The bed's too big without you," she grumbles quietly before she realizes what she's just admitted. She doesn't even know what she meant to say but there's no getting out of it now. Damn sleep deprivation.
"Wait…you can't sleep because…you miss me too?"
She can practically hear the awe in his voice, the complete joy she's just given him and somehow, she can't bring herself to deny it, to deny him of this knowledge. Because she does. She really misses him.
"Yeah," she exhales quietly, "I miss you too, Castle."
She snuggles deep under her covers, cradling the phone to her ear as she listens to the sound of Castle's breathing on the other end. She pictures him lying in bed, his laptop discarded on the side where she should be and tries to pretend he's there next to her, instead of on the wrong side of the country.
"Close your eyes, Kate," he says, suddenly.
"How do you know they're not already closed?" she retorts in typical fashion, wondering where this is going.
"Because I can hear you thinking all the way from here, Beckett," he teases. "Just go with it."
"This isn't just some elaborate ploy to get me to have phone sex with you is it, Castle?"
She can hear his surprised laughter ringing through the phone and even though nothing has changed in the last five minutes, she somehow feels more relaxed. Just knowing he's on the other end of the line. Knowing that even apart, he's still here, with her…it helps.
"Not that I wouldn't be up for that anytime you're interested, Beckett…" He pauses and she envisions the way his eyes rake over her body, the slightest flicker of arousal stirring in her before he continues. "My intentions are pure I assure you."
"Mmm, okay," she hums. She presses the speaker button on her phone and sets it on the pillow next to her as she closes her eyes, obliges him.
She listens as he fumbles for something in his room and then, he's back on the line, speaking softly.
The words float quietly through the speaker and with her eyes shut she can almost feel him breathing them next to her. Can almost imagine the warmth of his body lying close between her sheets the way she longs for it to be.
"This is thy hour O soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou loved best, Night, sleep, death and the stars."
Whitman's words roll off his tongue, low and soothing, like a gentle caress and she feels herself sinking deeper into the mattress, the stress of the last few days easing off of her in waves to the steady rise and fall of his voice, the tranquility it creates. The rich cadence sweeps over her as he continues to recite, switching from Whitman to Cummings to Browning and she gradually finds herself sinking onto the edge of sleep, lulled by the peace that he brings to her life.
It's amazing how easily he can give this to her. How he always knows what she needs. And really, she shouldn't be surprised. His words have kept her afloat from the very beginning. Since long before they actually met. They've always had a way of wrapping around her heart, lightening the weight in her chest, setting her free again. If anything, their power has only strengthened. Now that she's surrounded by them, by him, felt the reverberations of his voice against her skin. It's no different tonight, even hundreds of miles apart, and she sighs happily as she drifts further into sleep, her mind finally at rest.
He continues reading until he's sure that she's asleep. The gentle pattern of her breathing calms him, lessens the pangs of loneliness he's felt since leaving. Only then does he find himself relaxing into his own bed, slipping deeper under the covers with the knowledge that he's somehow been able to provide what she needs.
Only then does he find sleep, as well.
Thoughts?