A/n. Thank you for the reviews and alerts, warms my heart. And thank you again to my lovely editor Miss PoT. This is my first ever fan fic and I am having a blast. But I guess I have to thank the writers and fantastic actors for making me live with and feel the story and characters, so much so that the ideas floating in my head just had to get out.
Red.
Chapter 3.
She drove. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel in the tightest manner possible. So tight that it felt like the imprint of her palms will be forever etched into the steel and leather of it. Her palms were sweaty. Her body felt so attuned to the vibrations and hum of the powerful motor roaring behind the shiny red hood. The city zooming rapidly past her made her feel like she was in a tunnel isolating her from the surrounding environment. She seemed to be one with the motion. She felt like she had fused with the almost forceful roar of the machinery she somehow was capable of controlling. But herself?
No, she could not for the life of her control the out of control energy that had taken over her whole being. Fire, blazing inside. Kate Beckett almost could not recognize herself. Her fury had taken over her sensible, closed-off self. The rational side of her no longer drove her. No. This feeling made her feel reckless. God, she probably was melting the road under the car at the speed she was going. Her foot didn't seem to want to lessen the amount of pressure she was putting on the gas pedal. It was somehow exhilarating. Being reckless. Letting go. Turning on one of the most basic feelings there is – rage. Truthfully, it somehow made her feel free. This letting go of her buttoned-up persona. The stoic one. The one who did not let emotions show.
She could barely make out other cars, the traffic lights, pedestrians, she just saw the road ahead. It didn't matter where it was taking her. She just needed to feel the inferno. The red. To live it. Damn, it felt good. She was focusing on the anger and the road. She was not aware of anything else. Just her anger. The feeling of freedom it gave her. The speed.
"Stop."
It seemed to caress the very edges of her consciousness. Like a feather touching the ground. Barely there. So soft.
"Stop."
That sound started to resonate in her head. A little bit more forcefully. Like a bell you started hearing somewhere in the distance. But as it neared closer and closer, the ding to amplified.
"Stop."
Thunder in the distance. Counting the seconds when the lightning strikes. One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six …
"Stop the car, Kate."
The lightning struck straight through her being.
She jerked forward. Be it fate, or luck, who knew. When she hit the brakes, the street was deserted, there were no other cars, no other people. Just the night – so dark. The city illuminating the darkness. The screech of the tires, piercing the relative quiet of the night time hustle like a whistle. It was like she had been dosed with ice cold water. The voice, the jerk, the sudden complete stop. The man. God, him. She came back to awareness.
She inhaled.
His chest still hurt where the seat belt had cut into his flesh with the sudden freeze of the car. He was sure that the bruise from the sudden pressure will be spectacular. The surrounding skin and muscle stung. He felt like he had been whipped.
From going a mile a minute to complete standstill.
She had heard him.
He felt dazed. Another shock. It seemed to be a night plentiful with those. The shocks. Might as well taser him. It would be the same thing.
He tried to take a breath, but even that was difficult. His body did not want to cooperate. His limbs felt numb, his heart was thumping erratically. Even though the car had stopped. The storm inside him just multiplied. Another attempt at breathing. But his lungs would just not cooperate. The air burned. Caught in his throat.
She had heard him.
He inhaled.
Whoosh. They exhaled. Even at a moment like this, they somehow managed to be in sync. Their bodies mirrored each others. Gazes straight ahead, muscles tense. Both shocked. Both stunned by the flash. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. In. Out. Just a few more to let their poor, overwhelmed hearts and minds fuse with the silence that felt deafening now.
In. Out. And then they turned towards each other. Gazes locked. And held. No more evading. No more hiding and running. Just this moment in time, where two people who have gone to hell and back, held each others gaze and seemingly for the first time ever decided that this is it. The moment of truth.
"You are hurting me," one female and one male voice met in the middle and collided.
Communication is key. To be continued ...