heart so helpless
Thank you for all your kind reviews, I honestly can't put into words how much they encourage me. Unfortunately, for the rest of the week the updates for this fic may be a little slow since I have 2 exams and they need to take priority over this fic. However by next week I should be able to go back to my regular 2-3 day updates.
Castle's hands don't stop shaking no matter what he does.
He balls them in fists by his sides; drums them against the leather of the chair; shoves them into the pockets of his jacket. Nothing works.
Kate keeps glancing in the rear view mirror of the car, just occasional flickers that warrant no need to panic. At least, he doesn't think he should panic. Her expression is composed, no trace of fear to be found, so he supposes that is a good sign. That they're safe. However, she may just have the best poker face to ever exist. After all, she had tricked him once before. She's tricked a countless amount of people.
This isn't a trick though, is it? This isn't her trying to get him alone, this isn't her trying to murder him- This is her trying to protect him.
His mind can't process it, but then again it can't process the past the moment Kate knocked him out and he awoke to find himself in a dangerous situation. It's just completely bizarre. This stuff only ever happens in movies, TV shows, his books. This isn't real life. How can somebody live like this, so in danger?
Involuntarily, his eyes flicker to Kate, finds her glancing behind them once again as she makes a left turn.
Is this how she lives?
Something clogs in his throat and stays there, stuck. His story for her had been so wrong, originally. She's an assassin, she's not the good person, and she's not there for the well being of all. But she's here for him. For some reason- some insane, far-fetched reason- Kate is here to help him. Kate is here for his well being. Putting her life on the line in the process instead of killing him outright.
It must be the parent thing. It must be.
It's the only logical guess he could make. That mysterious cloak around her had caught his eye and glimmered with grief. If it were a husband or a sibling who'd been lost to her, then her parents would be there to prevent her from getting into this kind of world. Right? Because she just looks so- so beautiful and intelligent and thrumming with all this trapped perfection that he knows this kind of world wasn't one she was born into, and it wasn't one she happily joined, and it wasn't one that she belonged within.
So, no parent there for her, all alone. And somehow she turns to murder?
He can relate to that, if only a little.
The lump in his throat comes unstuck for a moment, and his voice is ragged when he asks, "Where are we going?"
Kate hums, and the sound has him teetering on some weird edge of fear and desire. "Finally got your voice back, I see, Castle. I thought you were going into shock."
"Would you blame me?"
Briefly, Kate studies him in the corner of her eye, lip twisting into a small smile. "No, I wouldn't."
She parks before an abandoned building, windows boarded up and glass sprinkled across the floor. He stares at the building for a moment, silently wondering if this is where she expects him to live for a week or two, as well as feeling slightly uneasy about the whole thing. Perhaps she really has tricked him once again and now she's lured him into her trap and, like the fool he is, he's happily walked right into this one.
A small laugh breaks his thoughts, and he turns to find Kate smiling widely at him, eyes dancing with amusement. Oh, God, she's gorgeous. So gorgeous and he doesn't understand anything about the world anymore, because how is she here, how is she involved in things like this? And how can she be so gorgeous, with all that blood on her hands?
"Relax, Castle, I'm not expecting you to stay here. No, I have another place for us to hide out." Kate tells him. "But I need to grab my own stuff, I- Well- This was kind of unplanned."
"Unplanned?" He repeats, confused.
Kate worries her lower lip with her teeth, and damn, if this situation weren't so serious and she wasn't so out of his league, he wouldn't hesitate to lean down and kiss those teeth marks away, smooth his tongue-
"It was just this morning that I realized I underestimated the man who put me up to kill you. So I made the split decision to help you, and now I haven't got any of my stuff. But we'll just be here a sec, I promise."
Castle nods enthusiastically, impatient for this trip to the dodgy looking neighborhood to be over as soon as possible. So when Kate climbs from the car he follows willingly, dodging shards of glass and constantly glancing over his shoulder as he follows her towards the abandoned building.
"Where are we, anyway?"
"Well- We're back where I first took you."
"You live here?"
The surprise in his voice is unmanageable and flows freely, so he's not surprised when Kate turns to him with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised. He swallows and tries to ignore the sweat gathering on the back of his neck under the intensity of her gaze. Castle's fairly certain that she could get anyone to confess to anything under that gaze, even the most hardened and well-protected of criminals.
"Castle, I am an assassin. I need somewhere to be secretive about what I do. I don't think I'd be the best of neighbours."
Oh, well that makes sense, now that he thinks logically about it.
Yet still Kate stands with her hands on her hips before him, staring him down with his fierce green eyes of hers. He shifts nervously from foot to foot before allowing a meek "Okay" to slip from his mouth.
"And, in response to your earlier question? We're in the Bronx."
Castle splutters, "The Bronx? Jesus, Kate, you must stick out like a sore thumb."
Kate ignores his outburst and turns away, to a boarded window of the building, glancing about surreptitiously before nudging it with her shoulder. It loosens immediately and she manages to shove it aside enough to make room for the pair of them to climb through.
She wiggles through gracefully, landing on both feet inside and turning to him expectantly. He's less than graceful. His shoulder catches on the wooden board, and then his foot gets caught on the ledge, but after Kate rolling her eyes and pulling him through he falls on his face on the inside of the building. He hears Kate stifle a laugh at that and, despite the situation, finds himself smothering his own smile.
The first few rooms they travel through are empty, save from graffiti on the walls, empty cans laying forgotten on the ground. Soon after though they pass a room that he's certain is the one she had held him captive in- it's small, a box room with the one lightbulb- and then she's leading him into a room that's oddly furnished. A bed that looks much more uncomfortable than the floor, a few tables that hold clutter as well as manila folders, as well as a large whiteboard hidden behind a black curtain.
This isn't what he'd expected.
Somehow, despite the fact this was in the Bronx and a place she didn't own, he'd suspected that she would live comfortably. But none of this seems comfortable. It doesn't seem like a home.
It just seems lonely.
"I'm just gonna grab my things," Kate says, gesturing to a room that leads off of the one they're currently standing in, "I'll be right back."
"Sure."
He allows himself to roam about the room, inspecting. He finds a laptop hidden away beneath her bed, as well as an empty box of Chinese takeout, and he's just heading towards the hidden whiteboard when her voice stops him in his tracks.
"Don't touch that."
Castle startles, swivels to find her clutching a large bag and eyes wide with barely repressed anger.
Curiosity sparks within him, but something about the way she's holding herself up at the moment, and the sadness of this room, makes him resist the urge to pry. It's a first for him. He prides himself in the details, in knowing everything, and that's what makes his writing better than most. But with her the details go hazy, and it doesn't seem to change a thing.
"I'm sorry. I'm just…" Castle doesn't finish the sentence, too distracted by the way her knuckles are white as she all but clings to the bag. "How long have you lived here?" He asks before he can stop himself.
He thinks he sees a layer of tears in her eyes, but when she blinks they're gone. Castle supposes it had been a trick of the light.
"5 years." Kate answers, too quietly for his liking.
"All alone?"
There's a pause, and he's certain that he's pushed too far, that she'll find a way to hurt him for the questions-
But then, softly, she confirms his suspicions. "All alone."
The atmosphere between them is so intimate now that he can't resist anymore, drinking in this information with a renewed fire burning in his veins, stepping closer and closer towards her until they're just an arms-length apart.
"Why do you do this? Why are you an assassin?"
A kaleidoscope of emotions play in her eyes for a moment, but then they fall flat, shutting him out.
"It's a long story." She tells him tiredly.
He'll accept that. For now. Though if she believes that he's not going to try and wear her down over the time that they're going to be spending together, then she's incredibly wrong. There isn't going to be one moment, he thinks, that his mind isn't writing a story for her, creating her with his words and his imagination, trying to explain her beauty and her mystery and the inherent fragility in her eyes.
"Is it worth it?"
Kate sighs. "It will be."
Castle's eyes turn to one of the boarded windows beside them, studies the plain of land that stretches out before the abandoned building- the place in which she lives- and wonders if this is how she feels every day. Alone, cut-off from the rest of society because of the story she reminds herself every time the darkness comes creeping in at the night time, trying to fill the silence and emptiness that haunts her.
He wonders if she feels abandoned.
"Let's go, Castle."
He doesn't argue.
The radio fills the silence of the car as he stares out of the window, away from her, as her eyes remain fixed on the road ahead of them. Because he's turned away, he's missing the flex of her fingers on the car wheel, the white of her knuckles, the clench of her jaw. The fight she's having inside, deliberating whether to let him in or not.
But there's- There's so much- No. She can't think like this. Why is she thinking like this? As though this man were any different to every other human being on this planet, as though he meant anything else to her.
No, she's just doing this because she doesn't want an innocent man to die, right?
Yet she misses the feel of his lips on hers, wonders what all that skin would feel like if she aligned her body with his, feels a warm flare in the pit of her stomach.
Right. Well. There's some lust there, then. Which is fine. She's still a human being, after all, she's allowed to feel this way.
But he makes her feel something other than ice cold when he looks at her, makes her feel safe as the secrets spill free from her lips, makes her feel something strange that's unwelcome and totally wonderful at the same time.
"Kate."
Kate turns to him, surprised by the desperation in his tone, but when she sees what it is that caught his eye she simply sighs.
There's his daughter, sitting inside a small café with her head buried in a biology textbook next to a young girl that Kate doesn't recognise but assumes is Alexis's friend.
There's his daughter that he has to leave behind.
Kate watches the play of emotions on his face, the utter desperation, the heart-breaking sadness, and wonders what's going through his mind. What is it that you think, really, when you see the person you hold dearest for what quite possibly is the last time? What words would you say, what actions would you take?
"Castle, you're protecting her." She points out softly.
His hand presses against the glass of the window as he stares, head falling forwards in defeat. "I know."
The light before her turns green and she speeds away before he dares thinks about jumping out to say goodbye to his daughter.
His betrayed glare burns into her skin, but she just ignores it, like she ignores most matters of the heart.
