DAMAGED GOODS

CHAPTER FOUR

…

With a sigh she dropped her bag on the coffee table and shed herself of her black, leather jacket.

It had been a long day, exhausting day, with little to no progress.

They'd talked to Emily some more, and Ryan and Esposito went to Allison's old friend's house, only to come back with no answers, because the girl; Rebecca, kept saying that she hadn't seen Allison in more than a year, which was conflicting, since Allison's parents were convinced the two of them hung out regularly.

That could be a lead, but since no one else knew what Allison did when she pretended to be at Rebecca's they couldn't investigate any further until they at least had one other lead.

Mr. and Mrs. Jakeman had given them three more addresses, and they would go and visit them tomorrow.

After a quick debate she headed towards the shower, stripped off her clothes and turned on the hot water tap.

No candles, wine or book today.

When the tub was half full she stepped in, slowly, letting her skin adjust to the hot temperature of the water.

As soon as she sat down she sighed. She closed eyes and waited; she felt the water rise and slowly surround her body, slowly made her feel weightless and slightly lightheaded from the hot air that she breathed in.

Then when it was finally filled she turned off the tab, not noticing how slowly she was falling into a dark haze.

…

Half an hour later she was startled awake by a firm knock on the door.

She lifted her hand from the water and looked at her wrinkled fingers, realizing she must've fallen asleep.

Again, someone knocked on the door. She got up and stepped out of the bath tub, quickly drying her hair with a towel, for as far that was possible, and drying her body with it afterwards.

Then, on her way towards the door, she grabbed a fluffy, soft robe from her bedroom and threw it on.

She checked her face in the mirror and scrunched up her face. Her face was blank from makeup and her usual brown hair seemed almost black, hanging around her face in thick, wet threads.

Whatever, it wouldn't be anyone important anyways, she told herself before opening the door, revealing her partner standing there with a cheesy smile on his face.

Adorable though.

Woah, where did that come from?

''Uh, hey?'' She said, slightly confused by her own thoughts.

''Hey, I figured you didn't eat yet so I brought some take out.'' He said, making her stomach turn. ''Did I… interrupt something?'' He said, partly awkwardly, partly smug while eyeing her appearance.

Suddenly she felt self-conscious all over again, wishing she'd had time to put on some makeup and proper clothes before opening the door.

''No…'' She said slowly, unsure of herself and the situation.

He obviously took that as an invitation because he entered her apartment and put the bag of takeout he had in his hands on the coffee table, next to where her bag still sat.

She softly groaned and balled her fists, still facing her door.

''So I brought some Chinese, you like that right?'' He asked, while turning around.

''Uh, yeah. I don't know… I'm… I'm gonna go and get dressed if you don't mind.'' She stuttered while padding towards her bedroom.

''You don't have to on my acount.'' He said with that smug, arrogant but yet so adorable smile of his.

She ignored him and closed her bedroom door. After double checking that it was actually closed she dropped the robe and threw on a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra.

Then she grabbed a white camisole, a pair of jeans that she –after a while of debating- threw back into her closet and replaced for a pair of sweatpants, and a way too big sweatshirt.

She left her feet bare.

It wasn't sexy or even remotely close to proper, but she was tired, no scratch that, exhausted. Mentally and physically, and if Castle came here knocking on her door he'd have to deal with her looking like a mess; this was her apartment.

She picked up her hairbrush and combed through her still damp hair and put it in a messy bun; not caring about how messy it would look when it would dry. She'd straighten it later.

But after she'd distracted herself with focusing on dressing, she started worrying about the man in the next room. Well, maybe not so much, more about the food in the next room, and the combination of Castle and food.

She didn't want him to see her like this; at her weakest.

She should be over this. She had been over this for more than ten years!

''Hey, are you okay in there?'' His voice then sounded through the walls of her bedroom.

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it.

''Yes.'' She called out before opening the door and walking up to him. ''Do you want a drink?'' She then asked as she entered the living room, trying to create a light mood.

''Yeah, please.'' He smiled.

''Wine?''

He nodded and she grabbed a bottle, then skillfully opened it and poured him a glass. For a moment she doubted before filling and turning on the kettle to make herself some tea.

He frowned as she put the glass in front of him.

''You're not drinking?'' He asked, and she couldn't decide whether he was being surprised or suspicious.

She shook her head and shrugged.

''Not really up to it.''

He opened the bag and took out a few boxes.

''I got you noodles with chicken and some kind of spice-y sauce. That okay?'' He asked as he handed her a box and chopsticks.

She nodded.

She was hungry. She hadn't eating all day, unless you'd count the three bites of bearclaw she'd had that morning.

After a few minutes she decided it was okay. Slowly she took a bite.

….

With a soft thump she set the still mostly full box of noodles on the table and gulped down the last of her tea.

They'd chatted their way through dinner. She'd been oddly quiet, and she could see he started to worry.

Every few minutes she'd wake up from her own thoughts and try to act a little more normal, but she constantly fell back into the haze.

'''Hey.'' He suddenly softly spoke.

She noticed he was much closer than he was a moment before, their thighs almost touching.

''Are you sure you're fine?''

''Castle will you please, please stop asking that? I'm fine.'' She snapped. She regretted it as soon as it happened, but she didn't want him to worry about her; to lie awake at night wondering what was going on. Something she'd done way too many times in her life.

He didn't reply, just nodded and turned his face away from her. Not in anger or even annoyance; just because he wanted to give her a little space, show her it was okay.

How could he put up with her? Why did he stay, no matter how far and how often she pushed him away? He was way too good for her.

''Listen Castle, I'm sorry.'' She spoke, a little later. ''I sh-''

He interrupted her, lifting his hand as a gesture.

''No it's okay.'' He said, his eyes warm.

She shook her head. She didn't want him to be like this; not because she didn't like it –because she did, maybe even a little too much- but because she knew, that if he kept doing this; the whole being patient and sweet, and understanding – thing, she would hurt him.

Unintentionally, but still.

She would hurt him, because he kept coming back. She pushed him away and every time he would come running right back to catch her when she fell, hurting himself in the process.

He might not be affected by his wounds and scars right now, but he would, eventually.

And she didn't want him to.

One part of her wanted to start a fight with him. Not because she wanted to fight with him, because she didn't –she didn't want him to be mad at her, or angry, or hurt- but because she wanted him to see the demon inside of her, to see how evil she could be, intentional or not. to let him see that he would get hurt; that she wasn't worth it.

But the other, bigger part of her, wanted to just hold him and let him hold her; tell her it would all be okay.

But how could he, if he didn't know she's allow him to put his arms around her. How could he comfort her if he didn't know what the problem was.

How could he comfort her, when he didn't know there was a problem…?

''No it's not.'' She shook her head. ''I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just…-'' confused, broken, terrified, devastated, clueless of what to do, self-destructive, ''-…tired.'' She said, a hit of a sigh in her voice as she spoke with a slight, almost invisible smile on her lips.

A broken smile. A confused, scared one.

He nodded understandingly. As if he understood. Well, at least he tried. At least he cared.

''I guess I better go then.'' He said, his expression mimicking hers. He stood up from the couch and grabbed the empty or used boxes and chopsticks, together with the glasses and walked up to the kitchen; disposing the boxes in the container and the glasses in the sink.

She nodded, although not convinced of herself.

Slowly she rose from the comfortable chair she'd been seated in with her legs tucked under her body and her arms and upper body drowning in the oversized sweatshirt.

''Hm, leave it. I'll clean it up.'' She said, smiling weakly.

''I…-'' he started, but she laid her hand on his arm, showing him he didn't have to. She grabbed his wineglass with the other one, and put it carefully in the sink.

He looked like he was about to say something; protest, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and made his way to the door.

She grabbed his coat from the peg in the hallway and handed it to him.

''See you tomorrow?'' She said.

He nodded.

''See you tomorrow.''

With that he closed the door behind him. She'd already walked back into the room, for some reason not wanting to see him go.

She felt like she'd let him down, although the rational part of her knew she didn't.

She fumbled with the hem of her sweatshirt and feels the oh so familiar need growing in her stomach.

She hasn't felt like that in so long. Well, not really.

Old habits had returned after the shooting, possibly due to the PTSD. Possibly, because she didn't know. She couldn't ask Dr. Burke; he would surely want to talk about it.

Pf, talking about it. Like that would help.

But even though the habits, the want was back, it hadn't went that far yet. She hadn't done anything yet; just thought about it, fantasized about how it would feel to do it again; how good it would feel to be empty, weightless for just a while.

She couldn't. Right? She couldn't do this to her father, Rick, the boys, Lanie.

(Wait, did she just call him Rick? What is wrong with her?)

Or maybe she could. Could she? They would never know. They didn't even know there was a problem in the first place, never knew.

So she could… right?

Suddenly she found herself tugging off her shirt and sitting on her knees in front of her toilet.

''What the hell are you doing Kate?''

''C'mon, just once! You haven't done this in years, once won't hurt!''

''You know you won't be able to stop.''

''But just remember the feeling? Would you rather be full?''

She groaned, trying to make the voices stop. She didn't even know which one was her own anymore; who was her, what was her opinion, what were her needs and wants?

She didn't know.

''Kate, c'mon!''

She groaned, loudly this time. She put the palm of her hands on her forehead and pushed hard, as if to put everything back in. The thoughts, the inner battle, everything.

But she knew that these thoughts were not the worst. The worst would follow shortly.

''Kate, stay with me, stay with me Kate. Please.''

Suddenly she found herself holding a spare toothbrush, tears streaming down her face; she couldn't do this.

This? As in what? The thoughts, the purging, the living?

That, she didn't know either. All of it, or maybe nothing.

''I love you, I love you Kate.''

His bright blue eyes, just as bright as the sky above him. Pain in her chest, heart, but she wasn't sure if it was caused by the bullet or his confession.

She should be happy, right? Having somebody who loves you should be a good thing right? Well, then why did it feel like he just told her he was going to die?

She knew why.

And that was the last straw. She shoved the toothbrush down her throat, far enough to make her gag.

Once, twice, until she was vomiting out the just consumed food.

She kept going as the thoughts kept reeling through her mind.

It hurt. But it didn't matter. It hurt in a good way.

Her insides were screaming at her to stop this, but some other force just kept her going.

Keep going until you can't anymore.

''Keep going until you're puking, fainting or dying?'' Bullshit. ''Keep puking until you're fainting or dying.''

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew, that she was talking shit, talking herself into this, that she was causing it herself. But she didn't care. Kept on going.

That was, until suddenly somebody spoke.

''Beckett, are you okay?'' His worried voice sounded faintly from the living room.

Too real, almost….

As if he was…-

-here.

God. He was here.

Whoops, cliffhanger!

Next chapter should be up soon, I've already finished most of it.

If you think this is too triggering, despite the warnings and the rating, I'd really appreciate it if you would let me know, since I'm kinda nervous about this. I don't want people to get triggered by my stories and hurt themselves. So please don't!

Reviews make me write a lot faster *wink wink*