Submersion - Part 2
Maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe it's the way her heart is racing once again at his proximity, or maybe it's just that his words have always gotten to her, reached her in ways that no one else's can. But her defenses are all totally shot by this point and she finally finds herself cutting him off, agreeing, letting him hold her coat as she slips her arms into it, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary. And before she knows it, he's ushering her into the elevator, his hand warm against the small of her back. This time she does lean into his touch.
Forty minutes later, she's unlocking her door while he crowds her back, hands full of Chinese takeout. He insisted on getting food on the way to her apartment and she loves him all the more for that since she can't remember exactly the last full meal she ate.
She watches as he makes his way around her kitchen, pulling plates from the cabinet and utensils from the drawer. Something about the sight relaxes her, wipes away some of the stress she's felt. It's not like he's even been to her place that many times but the realization that he fits here, fits into her life without even really trying, it leaves her a little breathless. And once again she finds herself having to fight the urge to just let go, jump in.
She shakes her head, tries to snap herself out of her thoughts before he catches her staring, and busies herself by retrieving a couple of wine glasses. She finds a red she bought a few weeks earlier, pours a moderate amount in both of their glasses, and takes them to the coffee table where he's set the food out in front of the couch.
"This okay?" he asks, gesturing to the plates as she approaches.
"Looks great. Thanks for convincing me to leave tonight…and for getting dinner," she adds, as she sinks into the soft cushions of the couch.
"Least I could do. And don't thank me, it was a ploy to get dinner all along," he jokes. "I've been starving since before the car broke down and I'd have been really whiny if you didn't give in."
She rolls her eyes. "When are you not whiny, Castle?"
He shrugs, "When my stomach is full of Kung Pao chicken and fried rice." He waggles his eyebrows at her. She can't help but smile and has to stop herself from sticking her tongue out at him.
She finally picks up a carton of lo mein and just barely manages to hold back a moan as they both dig into their food. It tastes heavenly and she really was starving too. They drift into a comfortable silence as they eat and it's just another one of the other things she's grown to love about him. She'd never have guessed that he was so capable of being quiet in the right moments, of just being there, a calming presence in her life. He always has the words when she needs them but he's also perceptive. He waits patiently, gives her the space she needs to work through things, and he somehow knows her so well. She's never been more grateful for that. And sitting there, amidst cartons of Chinese, the warmth of his presence relaxes away the remainder of the day's stress.
When they finish, he takes the plates back to the kitchen. She refuses to let him do the dishes so he refills their wine instead, flittering back and forth, essentially hovering as she cleans up. It doesn't even annoy her anymore. Okay, sometimes it does, but mostly it's a comfort and they fall into a rhythm of her washing, him drying and putting away the dishes as they dance around her kitchen in an act so domestic that it conjures up memories of her own parents. Her heart contracts at the images playing back in her mind - it's bittersweet, she thinks, but it also reminds her of how much she wants this, deep down, underneath all of the waiting and working to be ready.
She wants these little things, the quiet moments at the end of the day, coming home together. To be able to share the burdens. It's a pleasure she's not allowed herself to have in such a long time, maybe not ever in the way she could. But she knows that if there's anyone she'll share it with, it's him.
Eventually they settle back onto the couch, make quiet conversation about the week and his family with their glasses of wine in hand, and it's not long before she feels her eyes growing heavy. The effects of the case, the sleepless nights, and the alcohol all combine to work against her. She struggles to stay awake until he finally nudges her, gently says that he can leave, let her get some rest.
Her eyelids flutter open. She's suddenly awake enough to know that the last thing she wants is to be left alone and she reaches out, grips his arm, and looks over at him.
"Stay?" she asks softly.
He smiles, clearly surprised, eyes crinkling as he looks over at her and suddenly she's transported back to that couch in Los Angeles. He's looking at her the same way he did that night when she wanted so badly to reach for him. When she was terrified and thrilled and so thrown off by the honesty of his words to her and the realization that she was absolutely, irrevocably, madly in love with this man. And when she did the only thing she knew to do. She ran. She ran because there was Josh. She ran because she was a mess over Royce. Mostly she ran because they didn't confront these feelings, didn't speak so directly, and she was scared. It was either run or go diving headfirst into the deep end. Ironic that now he's the only one keeping her from drowning.
"All you ever have to do is ask," he answers, pulling her over until she's propped against him, her head resting against his shoulder. He covers her with the throw that was folded over the back of the couch and wraps his arm around her. She thinks about protesting because this is far too close again, way past their usual barriers…but she's so tired. And he's so warm and inviting and as her eyes drift shut again she thinks this is exactly what she needs right now. Maybe diving in with him is the safest thing she can do.
"Sleep, Kate."
The last thing she feels before she falls asleep are his lips pressing gently against her hair.
They're sinking again.
The fall is quicker this time. There's some kind of current in the water and just when she manages to break free, to escape through the window of the car, it's pulling at her, dragging her away from him.
She's swimming as hard as she can and getting nowhere. She drags her arms through the brown water over and over again but she's not moving. Only getting pulled further away and it's too muddy, too cloudy to see the car anymore. She wants to scream, has to do something, anything because the last thing she saw was his body trapped in the cruiser and no, he can't die. He can't die. She cannot leave without him. No, Castle, no!
"Kate!"
She hears his voice and she fights even harder, struggles against the current but it feels like her arms are pinned now. She can't move, she can't scream, she can't cry, it's all water and no air and no Castle.
"Kate!"
She feels herself being shaken. She's spinning around and around in the water but she still can't see him. Everything is a dizzying blur of water and darkness. But no, she will not let him die. She won't. She has to find a way to get to him. Castle.
"Kate! Please, wake up!"
Suddenly, her eyes are opening to pitch black and she blinks confusedly, her breath coming in ragged gasps for air as she clutches blindly, hands gripping his shirt.
"Castle," she all but sobs as his arms encircle her, hold her so close that she can hear his heart beating quickly in his chest.
"Hey, you're okay, you're okay," he murmurs softly against her hair. "It was just a dream, Kate, just a dream."
He's running his hands in circles against her lower back, a gesture so tender and loving that she could cry. And damnit, why does she have to be so broken? She loves him so incredibly much that this is what the thought of losing him does to her. It breaks her, rips her apart, leaves her weak and shaking. A complete sobbing mess in his arms.
He pulls back after a few minutes once her breathing settles a bit, and brushes his thumb gently across her cheek, attempts to wipes away her tears, and in the darkness something stirs within her.
Her brain is yelling that it's a bad idea. A terrible idea but now that she's in this moment, she can't seem to stop herself. When is it ever going to be the right time? When is she ever going to be ready? How much longer can she go on half-living with all these secrets and insecurities and regrets? She's terrified of screwing this up but the thought of wasting another minute, another precious second of their time makes her stomach churn, grips her in a panic far worse than anything else.
So she makes a choice.
"I can't do this anymore."
He jerks his hand away like it's been scalded, sinks backward into the couch cushions with a sigh, drops his head down into his hands.
"I'm sorry," he grits out, grimacing. "I…I know it's too much. I just…you were shaking and crying, Kate. I couldn't watch you go through that alone. I couldn't not wake you." She can hear the emotion in his voice, watches as he rubs a hand through his hair in frustration and oh, he thinks she's trying to push him away again.
"No, Castle, no…that's not what I meant." She reaches to capture his hand in hers again, runs her thumb absentmindedly across his skin while she tries to work out the words in her head.
His eyes look wary, dark blue in the night and it hurts her that she's done this to him. Put this cautious fear in his eyes. She longs to ease it away, trace the lines of his face, erase the worry. All she can do is be honest, try to give him her words, and if the words are not enough then, she's determined to showhim.
"I meant I can't do this alone anymore," she corrects her earlier statement.
"What are you saying?" His free hand has returned to her face, has tangled in her hair and his eyes are a little brighter now, a little more hopeful as he asks the question.
"I'm so tired of fighting this," she admits, softly. "I'm so tired of fighting us. Every time we almost die and we don't talk about it, we don't acknowledge just how close we've come to losing each other. And I just can't do it anymore. I can't lose you. You mean too much to me."
He looks stunned. Like this was the last thing he expected her to say. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can she presses a finger to his lips, silencing him.
"Castle, I'm in love with you."
"What?" he asks, a small smile playing at his lips, his eyes crinkling as he continues to stare at her, a little bewildered.
She blushes, rolls her eyes at him in an attempt to distract him from the flush in her cheeks. "Shut up, you heard me," she mumbles, ducking her head.
He reaches to cup her chin, tilts it upward so that she's looking at him again while he strokes his thumb tenderly along the curve of her cheek. The smile he's been fighting finally widens across his face. "You know I love you too, Kate," he says. "You don't have to do this alone."
It feels like a weight has been lifted from her chest, all the days of struggling to acknowledge her feelings, her insecurities, it's all been leading to this moment. And maybe it's not about being ready. Maybe she'll never be as ready as she thinks she needs to be. Maybe instead, it's about being strong enough to recognize the good and to quit running. To choose life and to start living it with him.
"I'm just…I'm sorry I've made you wait so long. I wanted to be whole again. I wanted to be good enough for you."
"You're more than worth the wait. I'll wait as long as you need," he says, continuing to card his hand through her hair as he holds her close.
She pulls her head back again, needs to look him in the eyes. "What if I'm tired of waiting?"
Thoughts?