Well what the fuck another chapter. For those of you read this story before a certain time, I'm no longer going to be rewriting this for reasons that are my own. So I'm going to finish this one. I don't know how long it will take or when I'll next update but that's what is happening.
Castle: Between the Lines
Chapter 14:
- The Cold and the Knife -
By NRZWolf 13
It was raining a fine mist as Rick's feet finally carried him out of the hospital and into the night air. How he managed to avoid the hospital staff he didn't know and frankly he didn't care. Still wrestling with his sweatshirt because somehow he managed to turn it inside-out in his haste to pull it on, Rick vaguely realised he didn't care about the moisture falling from the dark sky. The gloomy weather suited his mood.
The night air was actually surprisingly chilling compared to the oppressive warmth of the building he had just escaped, and a cool breeze coming from the direction of the river quickly raised goose bumps on his exposed arms. He couldn't stop shivering, although he would have much preferred to blame it on the cold rather than the way his heart was slamming wildly in his chest, spurred by pain and guilt-based adrenaline.
Honestly, Rick had no idea where he was going but he didn't care as long as he kept moving. It felt like the whole world would crumble around him if he stopped, and although he couldn't escape the thoughts swirling relentlessly around his head, at least it felt like he was going somewhere if his feet were moving. Maybe it would have been better to simply let the doctors put him back to sleep, but as soon as the thought crossed Rick's mind he knew that wasn't true. It was far better out on the open streets where he was surrounded by space and the open air and less likely to bump into some well-meaning doctor who knew what had happened to his sister and would look at him with pity and guilt-filled eyes.
That was what really annoyed Rick. What the hell did these people have to feel sorry about? This whole damn mess was his fault anyway. It felt like his entire life had just been made up of one shit decision after another, starting with his refusal to tell anyone what Anthony did to him for so many years and ending with sending his little sister out to get a glass of water for Kate when he knew their crazy bitch of a step-mother was lying in wait to-
'You should be glad you weren't killed in the apartment. Kate's safe too, isn't she? Both of you could've been stabbed just as easily as she was'
Which was entirely true but Rick still had to do everything in his power to stop himself banging his head off the nearest wall for a couple of hours. No matter what thought crossed his mind, he would never stop blaming himself.
It wasn't like he asked for this to happen though, right? Just like he never asked for his father to hit him. Or for his mother to die. Or did his mother leave? The teen bit his lip and shook his head distractedly as he walked. As much as he would like to sort out the whole farce with his mother, a small part of him knew all too well he just wasn't ready for that. It was slightly stupid and pathetic, he realised, that after sixteen years he could barely even think about his mother let alone consider she was alive.
That didn't matter right now anyway and Rick had always hated talking about things that didn't need to be said, which was probably why he was such a mess in the first place if he was honest with himself.
'People tried to help you, but you didn't listen, and look where you've ended up. You should have done some actual protecting like you promised your little sister- promised her- promised Ale-'
Rick stumbled on an uneven part of the sidewalk that he didn't even notice because he was momentarily blinded by tears. It hurt like hell because he stubbed several toes and for the first time it dawned on him that he had forgotten his trainers and was travelling the streets barefoot, but he was far too caught up in his thoughts to care.
If he'd just swallowed his goddamned pride and simply asked someone for help. If he'd spent less time worrying about Kate, who was obviously safe at the time, and focussed on the rest of the apartment. If he had been there when his little sister needed it most instead of passed out in a coma because of his stupid hand.
If he hadn't just watched while Michelle stabbed his little sister in the chest, moving only to get stabbed in the hand while she lay on the floor, her blood spreading out around her…
Michelle was gone. There was no way she didn't get arrested for what happened in the apartment, especially with Kate there as a coherent witness to tell the police what happened. But while his step-mother was gone, she sure as hell wasn't forgotten and while his initial concern for his little sister kept most of his feelings tightly rolled up in a ball and thrown to some obscure corner of his mind, now Rick just felt cold and empty and haunted.
As he was passing dark windows in what was obviously a more residential area of New York, his eyes caught sight of the unexpected and unwelcome view of a child being held by its mother through one of the few windows with a light on. The sight startled Rick so badly he almost ploughed face-first into the streetlight he was passing, eyes focussed on the woman gently rocking the child. While the remorse and sadness was fully expected, he was caught completely off-guard by the pang of pure longing that lanced through his chest, shortening his breath and sending his stomach into cart-wheeling nausea.
Before he was aware he was even moving he was stumbling towards a nearby alley, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle as he dropped to his knees and vomited bile onto the ground, his abdominal muscles straining forcefully enough to make him continue retching even when he had nothing left to throw up.
'Urgh… at least it's the middle of the night' He mused weakly, gasping for air and shuddering when every movement, no matter how miniscule, sent another wave of nausea rolling through him. 'There's nobody around to watch you puke your guts out in the middle of the street'
Granted, even if someone was watching from a window or a doorway nearby, they'd probably just have mistaken him for some dumb bastard who couldn't hold his alcohol. But he wasn't drunk, although he was starting wish he was.
'Don't even think about that. You know first-hand just how much more violent alcohol can make people. Do you really want to be running around like that?'
There was a fountain nearby, a ridiculous ornamental piece with mermaids and water babies springing out of the middle, but all Rick really cared about was the running water. He limped his way over to splash some on his face and rinse the foul taste from his mouth, a spasm shuddering through him from the cold.
Standing there with his eyes closed, clutching the edge of the bowl and struggling to catch his breath, Rick suddenly realised from where he stood now, he was no longer within sight of that stupid woman and her kid. At the same moment, he became rather acutely aware that the circulating water sounded like babbling laughter. Whose? He didn't know. One moment his disconnected mind mistook it for children giggling hastily murmured secrets and the next he swore it sounded like a woman's teasing voice. Either way, he was dry heaving again a moment later and clamping down on the rim of the fountain so forcefully it felt like his fingers might break. Instead, they slipped on the wet stone and before he could stop himself he fell face first into the basin. Water sprayed into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. When he finally staggered upright again, pawing sluggishly at his face, he was face-to-face with one of those god-awful stone mermaids.
The thing was all flowing hair and full, pouting lips and as a woman's high, insane laugh echoed through his ears, Rick reacted without thinking and slammed his fist into its leering smile.
He found out a moment later the stone was actually incredibly hard. The mermaid's face remained as it was, but Rick was forced to bite his tongue to hold back a strangled cry of pain and dismay. He'd punched the fountain with his right hand, his injured hand, and the impact had jarred it so much it started throbbing as badly as it did when it had been infected.
Fortunately, the pain also helped drive off the confusion in his head. It was just a stupid fountain, nothing more. Slightly dazed, Rick finally manoeuvred himself out of the basin, clutching his aching hand all the while. The skin on his knuckles had broken and the damaged skin looked black and somewhat surreal, but the pain assured him he wasn't dreaming.
'You aren't in a coma anymore. You're standing in the middle of New York somewhere and you just tried to kill a public fountain'
A small noise escaped his throat that sounded suspiciously like a giggle and he bit his tongue hard enough to taste copper, reining in his hysteria before it could burst out of him in peals of neurotic laughter.
'Get a grip, idiot, before you crack up and wake up the whole neighbourhood! If you didn't already, that is'
He needed to start moving.
Again, Rick realised he still didn't actually know where he was going. A small part of him was beginning to forget why he was out there in the first place as his mind twisted in endless circles. As he thought about his life, it didn't really surprise him to discover he didn't have a clue where he belonged anymore. The only thing he'd ever returned to was his little sister. His mind continued down this track of thought and before long he had also realised that he had begun to hope a little while ago that Kate and his little sister's presence would salvage the little bit of sanity he had left. It would give him something concrete to hold on to while he picked up the scattered fragments of his heart, but his step-mother had effectively put an end to that and Rick had never felt so alone. Always it had been other people before him.
For days – weeks and months and years even – he'd been skirting around the issue, but tonight he finally found the reason he'd kept quiet all these years about the abuse he suffered at home.
'I really am beyond help'
Rick sat on a low wall he had been passing and it took a moment before he realised where he was: the park right next to the red-bricked building. He closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. It was strange to admit to himself how truly, for want of a better phrase, fucked up he was, but at the same time it was almost a relief. He didn't have to pretend to everyone, even himself anymore.
He opened his eyes as the sound of drunken yelling and laughing entered his ears and he watched silently, unnoticed, as a group of teens only a couple years older than him staggered past. Would that have been him in a little while if he'd been brought up like a normal kid? What if his mother had stuck around? What would he be like then? He continued to watch as the teens walked off out of his sight, his mind spinning once again.
'You don't have to stay here anymore, do you? It'd be so easy to leave. Just go up to 7A one last time, grab your stuff and then hitchhike to wherever you want to go. Start over somewhere else, where you don't have to search through the crowds constantly for one last glimpse of your little sister'
So easy… he could do it tonight.
'Yeah right' A sarcastic voice came from the back of his head and Rick frowned. He'd never talked to himself in his life in case he really did lose his mind but then again… did it really matter at this point? There was no-one he could confide in now. He was truly and utterly alone. 'Where do you think you're gonna go?'
'Anywhere. Anywhere but here. I don't care as long as it's somewhere I don't have to think about-' Rick bit his lip and shook his head. 'Somewhere I don't have to think about what's happened'
'So what, you'll just leave Kate too?'
'I'll work something out okay!' Rick retorted angrily.
'You do know you're having an argument with yourself right now, right?'
"Well, duh," he muttered. "I'd like to think I'm not that far gone."
'Except now you're talking to yourself out loud, kiddo'
"Whatever. It's less confusing that way."
'Suit yourself. Anyway, do you really think you could leave Kate behind just like that?'
"She could come with me, couldn't she?"
'She has a life too y'know'
"I'm not stupid."
'Never said you were' the voice told him soothingly. 'And I know it's not much of a life, but it's still a life and people will miss Kate if she's gone, despite what she believes. Not to mention you're confused and hurting right now so you aren't exactly thinking straight. I'm just glad you're not thinking throwing yourself off a building or something'
"Can't say the thought never crossed my mind, but it's…" Rick frowned slightly as he tried to find the right words. "It'd be too easy, offing myself and making Kate deal with losing me too. Besides wherever A-Alexis is going I'm sure as hell not following."
Speaking his little sister's name, even to himself, hurt far more than Rick expected.
'She's gonna lose you anyway if you don't pull yourself together. Why don't you just go back to the hospital and-'
"Fuck that! I'm not- I can't-" Rick abandoned his seat in favour of moving again, running both his hands through his hair as he did so.
'Okay, NOW you're being stupid. I know you're pretty messed up right now but you're still sick. Besides, Kate visited you every day while you were in hospital so if you want to find her, just wait a while. Or do you think she's gonna run away screaming when she finds out you're insane-'
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
'Alright, alright, settle down before you give yourself an aneurysm. Look, I won't talk about Kate or Alexis-'
In desperation, Rick slammed the heel of one hand into the side of his head to silence the voice… then froze, suddenly aware that he just crossed a very distinct line. No voice, inward or otherwise, responded to this and for a few moments Rick found himself debating whether this was a good thing or not.
For the first time since he had arrived, Rick looked at the red-bricked building. Was Kate in there? If she was then… what? What would he do? Would he do anything?
He didn't know.
०౦ംഠ०҆''҅०ം◦∙ ം०҆''҅०౦ംഠ०
Kate Beckett woke up.
For a moment her eyes registered nothing but a deep darkness. Panic gripped her before a sudden epiphany reminded her where she was. Then she just felt empty.
Slowly the room came into focus, aided by the light of her bedside clock which glowed slightly in the dark. Silently, the face told her that it was 3:15am.
Tentatively, the teen sat up. Her body screamed in protest, fiery pain shooting through her, and her head felt heavy, swollen and foggy, throbbing every time she moved it. She forced herself to stand all the same, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Quickly, she leaned against the wall and turned on the light. Pushed by desperation, Kate went over to her closet and pulled out a towel. Then she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Misty steam quickly filled up the small room, and Kate slowly, carefully peeled off her clothes. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror before it misted over. Her face had turned purple and blue, her nose and cheek were swollen, and there was a small cut on her burst lip. Her back and body itself were covered in small bruises from where she'd been thrown into various things and the floor, and a large flowering bruise had appeared on her stomach. She touched it gently, tracing the outside. It hurt even to breathe. Now she knew why.
The mist in the mirror finally took over, making her reflection an indistinct blur, so Kate turned towards the shower, steeling herself as she stepped into its heat. The water stung as it hit her back and face, but Kate gritted her teeth and washed herself as thoroughly as she could, scrubbing especially at her thighs, but unable to go much higher as the pain increased. As soon as she had finished, weakness crashed down on her and she lowered herself gingerly into a sitting position. The way she sat, manoeuvring herself so that the weight was taken on her hip rather than her backside, felt strangely good. It was nice to have the water hitting her bruised back and running down her face. She leaned her head against the white shower wall, eyes closed and face drawn.
She felt empty and exhausted. A fire she'd never been aware existed within her was gone and it felt… well it didn't feel like anything. It was just nothing. It had been since a couple of days ago, since she'd snuck out to go to the hospital, since she'd found out that Alexis…
Kate didn't know how long she sat in the shower, staring at the back of her eyelids. All she knew was that she didn't want to leave. Leaving meant moving, moving meant thinking and the teenager wasn't sure she wanted to do that yet. It was much better to simply sit there suspended in time, no feeling, no good and no bad. She was so tired…
A floorboard creaked.
Kate's eyes snapped open and she pressed herself in to the corner of the shower, straining to catch any shadow of movement beyond the shower curtain that would announce Alex's arrival. For a moment that lasted eternity, she sat like a trapped animal, barely breathing, watching, waiting for the inevitable. But no other sounds followed and eventually the teen relaxed as much as her body would allow. The fear had shot adrenaline into her system and the tiredness was gone to be replaced by trembling and what was soon to be another sleepless night.
Alex had not been pleased when Kate had returned to him.
Murderous was probably a better term.
It had always been bad, but the abuse had been at least durable. She could survive it and wait for the day she could leave this hell hole. Now she wasn't sure if she would last the night. He refused to let her leave the apartment, even for school. He took her at any time. He got off on her screams of pain, penetrating her completely dry.
How was anything supposed to make sense when her dreams were safety and waking up was entering the nightmare?
Slowly she stood, the water feeling like falling needles and unseen dirt still clinging to every pore. Not even thinking about her actions, she turned the shower off, wrapped herself in her towel and returned to her room. She made no noise as she moved through the apartment, just another shadow stealing through the night. No-one would notice if she disappeared forever.
A moment of actual thought made her carefully dry off then pull on a pair of sweatpants and an old hoodie. They were slightly too big for her, baggy and shapeless, but she could curl up in them and not feel so aware of her aching body.
Rick had never made her feel bad about her body.
Kate had to hold back a sob as an image of the boy she loved appeared in her mind. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved him, and it made the one in her mind even more torturous to imagine: cerulean eyes bright and warm, hair soft and wavy, smiling her favourite crooked smile as she envisioned his arms around her with such clarity she could practically feel them.
She missed him so much.
And she was never going to see him again.
०౦ംഠ०҆''҅०ം◦∙ ം०҆''҅०౦ംഠ०
Rick stood outside apartment 6A.
He wasn't entirely sure how he'd arrived there. One minute he'd been thinking about Alex hurting Kate and the next thing he knew he was on his feet and walking without any conscious decision to do so. Now he was here and, to be perfectly honest with himself, he had no idea what he was going to do.
The incident with the knife had shown well enough that Rick wasn't capable of saving anyone, so why was he standing outside Kate's apartment? He was no knight in shining armour. Even if the hospital stay had left him feeling stronger and healthier than he had in weeks, he was still a small teenager in all dimensions and had no hope of fighting off a full grown man. Then there was the much more obvious problem staring him in the face.
A locked door.
Groaning quietly, the leant his head against the door and wondered what time it was. Wondered what would happen if he knocked on the door and asked to see Kate. Wondered if Kate was even in there. Something told him that she was but that was ridiculous. It wasn't like he could sense her or something. That was something you'd find in a book—
"Are you alright, lad?"
Rick spun round so fast he nearly fell over. Standing there was the old man from reception, a genuinely worried expression in his tired eyes. Rick felt his face heating up and he made a quick show of looking awkward while desperately trying to come up with an excuse for being here.
"I saw you come in. It's awfully late isn't it?"
"Uh… I uh… I forgot my key," Where the hell was he going with this? "I was… out with friends and I thought I had it but I don't and now I'm locked out."
The old man gave him a funny look. "I thought the lock was broken?"
"Uh…"
"I haven't seen Mr Beckett leave for a few days," The man continued in his Scottish accent. Rick clenched his jaw and fists so tightly it hurt. He knew exactly what Alex was doing. It made him feel sick. "What does he even do in there all day anyway? I hardly ever see him leave your apartment. Does he have a job?"
"He said he'd gotten it fixed," Rick almost-but-not-quite snapped as, in a moment of recklessness, he reached out and turned the handle to apartment 6A. It opened. Rick turned back to the man. "I guess he's a liar."
Then, before the man could ask any more questions and before he could lose his nerve, Rick entered the apartment.
Holding his breath, he stood in the darkness, hardly believing what he had just done, what he was currently doing. He knew he was insane but he wasn't so insane that he'd do this was he? Evidently he was.
Besides, what did he have to lose?
The thought gave him courage just as the lights were turned on and Rick found himself staring at a rather dishevelled Alex Beckett who had obviously just gotten out of bed. The man was looking at him in shock which quickly turned to rage as Alex snarled at him.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?"
०౦ംഠ०҆''҅०ം◦∙ ം०҆''҅०౦ംഠ०
Kate woke up to the sound of voices without realising she'd even been asleep.
Blearily she looked around her dark room and tried to put a source to the sounds, panic rising up her throat as shadows of Alex hovered on the edge of her vision at every turn. Eventually her sleepy mind realised that the voices were not, in fact, coming from anywhere nearby, but from somewhere else in the apartment.
Curiosity filled her as she heard the voices begin to get louder as the two people talking began to shout. She still couldn't make out what they were saying. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed to her door. She hesitated before it, her hand on the knob and she berated herself for being too afraid to even open her door. She was stronger than this. She was.
Her teeth nearly tore through her lip as she bit it and violently shook her head. No, she wasn't. She was a coward. So she put her ear against the door and instantly flinched away as a familiar yell tore through the night.
"You aren't hurting her ever again!"
Kate's eyes widened. Her breath quickened. Her heart thudded in her ears. Her entire body began to vibrate. For a few precious seconds she stood there, trying desperately to process what she had just heard. It couldn't be…
Fear thoroughly pushed down underneath hope, she threw open the door and ran down the short hallway to the sitting room, sliding to a stop as the lamp light illuminated the scene before her. One word escaped her mouth before she could stop it, filled with a hundred different emotions she could never name and her favourite sound in the world.
"Rick!"
There he was. In her apartment, standing there, facing Alex, eyes wild, hair flattened to his head by rain, skin pale, hand still bandaged and in that hand was a knife.
Kate's eyes widened as the stainless steel edge glinted in the low light, winking at her as Rick's grip tightened around it, pointing it at Alex.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, kid?" Alex spun round to look at Kate and she instinctively took a step back. "This is him, isn't it? This is the bastard the tainted you!"
"Shut up!" Rick snarled before Kate could stutter out a reply. "She's not tainted. You're the one who keeps hurting her!"
Alex laughed and shook his head. He was only wearing boxers and an old t-shirt, but somehow he still looked threatening. He was the tallest person in the room and the shadows seemed to reach out around him, threatening to drag anyone in to his darkness if they got too close. But that wasn't why Kate was terrified.
Because the teenager standing there holding a knife didn't look like Rick. With his hair hanging across his eyes, his dishevelled clothes making him look bulkier, the way he was standing with that knife still stretched out in front of him and his eyes… his eyes… They weren't Rick's. They were Anthony's.
And for the first time Kate was afraid, truly afraid, of Rick Castle.
"Rick…?" She choked out, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Alex's eyes flicked to her but he didn't move, obviously wary of the weapon and unsure of what Rick might do. Rick swallowed heavily and slowly turned his head to take in Kate. She heard his small intake of breath, saw his hand tightened around the knife.
"You bastard!" He roared and started towards Alex. Alex backed away but Kate did the opposite. She ran to Rick before she even processed what she was doing. All she knew was that she had to stop him. Not for Alex's sake. Never for Alex's sake. But she knew Rick would never live with himself if he ever hurt someone the way he had been hurt, regardless of what they might have done.
"Rick!" She was crying now. She felt the tears as she reached him and grabbed onto his arm holding out the knife. His furious gaze turned on her and Kate fought not to look away. The image of Anthony flashed into her mind but she shoved it away. This was Rick. There was no reason to be afraid. There never had been and there never would be.
"Kate, he—" Rick was trembling. Her own body was shaking as she interrupted.
"No. Please," she shook her head, the jerking motions looking more like spasms. "This… this isn't you. You aren't like them. You don't hurt people."
Rick's trembling got worse. The knife shuddered in his hand as he did and for the first time Kate realised he had been crying. "It doesn't matter anymore," he whispered, broken and alone.
"Of course it matters." She glanced at Alex but he hadn't moved. He was simply watching the scene with unconcealed confusion and wariness.
"No," he replied quietly. "She's d-dead Kate. I don't have anything." His hand once again tightened on the knife and he straightened at Alex who took a step back. "But I can make sure he never hurts you ever again."
Kate flinched at the hatred in his tone. "You have me." She whispered and Rick nodded before taking in a shaky breath.
"Not while he's alive." He snarled.
Kate didn't know what to do. Her tears flowed freely as sobs began to rack her chest. As Rick made to move towards Alex, she did the only thing she could: she threw her arms around the teen, crying heavily into his shoulder as she gripped his sopping wet sweatshirt and pleaded with him, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth.
"Stop it please, this isn't you, you're scaring me, stop it, he deserves it but you can't it's not right, please Rick, don't do this, come back to me, please…"
She didn't know how long this went on for. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, an eternity. But, finally, she heard the sound of something clattering to the hardwood floor and both of Rick's arms wrapped around her as he whispered non-stop apologies into her ear.
When she pulled away, she laughed in relief (although it sounded more like a strangled sob). Rick was staring back at her, her Rick, the one who had kissed her, the one who had ripped up her notebook, the one who had told her it wasn't her fault.
But their eye contact only lasted a second as once again Rick glared at Alex. The man still hadn't moved and Kate wondered what was going through her step-father's mind. His face was unreadable.
"We're leaving now," Rick voice was quiet but firm. "And we're not coming back. If you ever go near Kate again…"
The threat was left hanging in the air as Rick steered Kate towards the door. Kate didn't resist. She couldn't believe what was happening. She half expected to wake up and find herself still in her bed. This all had to be some sort of strange dream.
But she didn't wake up as Rick opened the door. She didn't wake up as Alex stood there, still unmoving, not saying a word. She didn't wake up as she took one last look at the apartment that had been her hell for so long.
She didn't wake up as the door closed, shutting out apartment 6A for ever.
०౦ംഠ०҆''҅०ം◦∙ ം०҆''҅०౦ംഠ०
Two teenagers stood outside the doors to the 12th precinct of the NYPD, gazing up at it with strange expressions on their faces. Both of them had clearly been crying. One wore a haunted look and one hand was gently fingering the white bandage on his hand. The other looked calmer, as though she had accepted what was about to happen and was ready for it.
"Are you ready?" The boy asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be." The girl replied.
They gave each other one last look before walking over the threshold together, hand in hand, preparing themselves for whatever might come.