a/n: post 8x07. No spoilers for any upcoming episodes.

Deliverance

'The wise man in the storm prays God, not for safety from danger, but for deliverance from fear.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson

There was no stopping, after that first time.

The dam had broken, and the waves were crashing over them, sweeping them away with their limbs flailing and the ground lost under their feet, breathless with need.

They were the unstoppable force, and once would never be enough.

She'd been naive to think otherwise.

"Time in," he growled, her office door slamming closed behind him so that the plastic shades rattled against the window panes as he strode toward her with purpose, coming for her. Before she had even fully sat up on the couch, before she got a word out his mouth was slanted over hers, his palms cupping her face, dragging her up against him. His name on her lips turned into a moan dragged up from deep within her ribcage, ragged and desperate when his tongue curled into her mouth, his body pressed against hers, broad and warm and overwhelming. She clung to him, lost and desolate with missing him, her leg rising up to hike over his hip and her body meeting the straining heat of his. His fingers gripped into her hair, angling her head as his mouth forged a path along her jawline, the sharp caress of his teeth against her skin making her knees buckle.

"No- not-" she gasped despite herself, her eye catching the yawning emptiness of the bullpen beyond her office windows, lying dark and abandoned in the late evening hours. "Not here."

Castle dragged his mouth from her neck, his fingers clasping her as he stared at her, held her against him, pinpricks of pressure around the balls of her shoulders. The fierce, decisive darkness of his eyes made her toes curl, her stomach flare with heat that unfurled through her blood, claimed her senses with ferocity.

She grabbed his lapels, dragged him all the way into the supply closet with its stale air and antiseptic stench and her back pressed against the cold, raw wall and it didn't matter, none of it mattered except his body pressed against hers, his hips spreading hers wide and her skirt hiked up to her waist. He fumbled with fabric until his fingertips met the slickness between her legs and she cried out, her voice tangling with the dark moan he pressed into her mouth.

Kate found his belt, his zipper, slid her hand beneath the layers of cotton to curl her fingers around his length. He jerked against her and bit her bottom lip, sucking the abused flesh between his lips in rhythm with the stroke of her fingertips.

"Please," he murmured, his fingers teasing in small, hard circles and she guided him inside. He sank deep, and stilled. She wanted to weep with the way he felt around her, inside her, the way he filled her, solid, strong, familiar; so perfect, the way they fit together. His forehead sank against hers and she brushed her fingers along the shell of his ear, his earlobe, trailing her fingertips across the line of his jaw and over the point of his pulse that throbbed hard and rapid beneath his skin.

"I love you," she whispered, and he shuddered against her, his hips jerking. Her body clenched tight in response and he slid all the way out, then surged back in, fast and hard and deep and she cried out, her hands clawing his shoulder, his hip, her head falling back, rubbing raw against the rough sand-papery wall. His lips sucking at her neck he thrust, setting a fast desperate rhythm and I miss you, the words repeated in her mind with every surge of him inside her, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you until she broke apart, lost herself in oblivion, lost herself in him.

They barely made it two days before she had to pull over when he sat next to her in her car, his presence bold beside her, his scent overwhelming her senses. She parked in a dark alley, abandoning every moral code of her job and every rule she'd ever set for herself when she slid across the seat and into his lap. His hands instantly curved around her waist, holding her tightly against him, his eyes blazing in the dark womb of the car.

"Time in?" She whispered the question, sounded unsure even to her own ears. His answer was to kiss her with abandon, and she rode him with her skirt hiked high and her blouse unbuttoned, her breast in his mouth and his fingers rubbing hard where they were joined, and the windows fogging with their combined, damp breaths.

"I miss you, Kate." He pressed the words into her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple as he spoke. "Damn it, Kate." He nipped at the hard, rosy flesh and she jerked, her body squeezing his. "I miss you."

She cried out as she came, white-hot heat tearing through her, scorching her from the inside out and she buried her face against his shoulder, hiding the rivulets of tears that wouldn't stop running down her cheeks.

It all came falling apart around her when she couldn't stay away. When she snuck into the loft, their home, late at night or early morning, she could hardly tell. She toed off her shoes and dropped her coat to the floor, and then she kneeled by the side of the bed and watched him sleep. Her fingers careful at his temple, she brushed her thumb across the tender skin, swept her fingertips through the flops of hair.

What was she doing? She barely knew anymore. She missed him so much that the pain was like razor blades all over her skin, a raw biting burn that made her want to claw at herself, shed herself of her own shell. She tried to stay away from him, fear gnawing at her every minute, the reasons for leaving just as valid as when she set this thing in motion but as the weeks dragged on with no resolution she could hardly bear it, and worse, she hated to see the sadness in his eyes, the slouch of his shoulders as he carried the weight of her choices. Guilt was churning in her gut, making her stomach sour, a poisonous ulcer that slowly ate her alive.

But he missed her too, needed her just as desperately, had told her only this afternoon when he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her back into the seclusion of the stairwell. His arms had come around her the moment the heavy metal door clanged shut, and she'd melted into his embrace, her arms wrapping around the width of his rib cage, hands spanning wide across his back so that she could feel the depth of each of his breaths, in and out and in. Her reasons felt empty, her conscience warring day and night with every conflicting emotion and thought rattling her brain until these moments when she felt him breathe and knew he was alive, would stay alive if only she made it, if only she saw this through and kept him safe, kept him away from it, away from her.

Kate swallowed past the lump in her throat that was choking her, blinked against the onset of tears. She knew she had to leave. She shouldn't have come at all, was only endangering him further and it was stupid and selfish but she hadn't seen him sleep in so long and she couldn't tear her gaze away, she just needed to see that he was okay, that he was still there, that he was alive.

His eyes flickered open just as she was about to rise. She wasn't surprised, she should've just expected it. Destiny, fate or magic, it didn't matter what they called it, it only mattered that it existed between them, brought them back to each other time and again.

Neither one said it, this time. There were no declarations of beginnings or ends, ins or outs, no loopholes to arrangements, just the press of his mouth to her lips and his hands at her waist, tugging her down, rolling her beneath him in their bed. She sank into the plush pillows, the familiar sheets, his warmth and scent still lingering in the fabric and his body pressing her into the mattress and she felt cocooned and warm, hadn't felt this warm in months.

He peeled off her sweater, her pants, her socks, his mouth exploring the length of her calf, her knee, the inside of her thigh. His tongue teased at the crease of her leg and she almost wept with relief when he pressed his open mouth to her underwear, his breath hot through the barrier of fabric. His nails limned the waistline of her panties, her skin jumping beneath his touch, before he tugged them down, sliding them off her legs. She let her thighs fall open, splayed wide before him, her muscles tense in breathless anticipation, in almost-agony. She rose up on her elbows, and their eyes met across her naked body in the moonlit dark of their bedroom.

"I love you."

She crashed back into the pillows, felt cleaved by his words and the yearning in his dark piercing eyes, by the heat of his tongue sliding through her folds and flicking against her nerves, by his lips sucking her into his mouth. His fingers explored her heated flesh, sliding deep and curling just so and she mewled and whimpered, clawed at the sheets, her hips surging for him, undulating into his touch until every one of her muscles tightened and the world flared bright-white behind her eyelids.

She tried to hold on, hold back as long as she could, didn't want it to end when his weight was pressing her into the mattress and his length buried inside her, filling her, deep and almost too tender. She was shaking, her muscles quivery and her blood pounding through her, throbbing in her lips and ears and between her thighs. He kissed her forehead, her cheekbone, bent her thigh back further so that the angle of his thrusts deepened and she whimpered, her fingers clawing into his ass at the flare of sensation starbursting from her midsection. His rhythm faltered as the tension rattled through him, his hips pistoning faster, sharper.

"Come with me. Kate," he groaned, pleaded, his body taut, muscles tight like guitar strings, thrumming beneath her fingertips. "Come w-"

"I can't." She sobbed, shook her head, her body so tense, so on edge that it almost hurt.

He stilled inside her, head lifting to find her in the dark, curved his palm around the side of her face.

"You can." His voice sounded raw, his gaze blazing with trust, with all his belief and it was cleaving her heart. "You can do anything."

She sobbed, helpless against the sheen of tears that were welling in her eyes, and he slid his other hand under her hips, angled her pelvis up, thrusting short and sharp and deep.

"With me." It was demand and request, all his hope and need and endless love in two simple words and she quivered, fingers scrabbling at his skin, hips jolting in helpless demand.

"With you," she promised, and her voice broke with the force of her orgasm as it shattered her, back arched and hips jolting and her muscles clamping, claiming his release with hers. He groaned and clung to her, shook seemingly endlessly before he collapsed weakly against her, just barely managed to roll them over.

"I should go," she mumbled a long while later, lying slumped across his chest with her limbs weak and her senses barely returning and her lips against his skin as she spoke.

"No." His arm tightened around her, his voice brooking no argument and she wanted to protest, felt like she should because this wasn't safe for him, staying was a risk she shouldn't take with his safety, his life and yet she was weak, lost in the warm comfort of his embrace. She was afraid and worried, and lonely and weak without him, and so exhausted.

"No," he repeated, tugged her in tighter against him, his fingers splayed over the side of her ribs and her eyes were blinking, losing their fight with fatigue.

So she gave up. Gave in. She closed her eyes, and she stayed.

She woke to the pale morning sunlight tickling her nose and familiar sheets wrapped around her skin. Kate jerked upright, reality dousing her like a frigid shower. She swiped her hair off her face and rubbed her eyes, swung her legs off the bed, her toes curling against the chilled hardwood floor. "I have to go."

"No."

She turned around, found Castle sitting on his side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He must've been up for a while, waiting for her to rise. He was cradling a cup of coffee, and she found another cup sitting on her nightstand, steam rising off the fragrant surface.

"I think you should stay." He was calm, collected, but there was a darker determination in his eyes when he looked at her. Her heart started pounding, her breathing losing its even rhythm as the sense of panic crawled through her limbs.

"I have to go to work," she tried to deflect, to control the anxiety that made her limbs jittery, her breathing rapid.

"Not what I mean, and you know it." He put down his mug, still so calm, so serious that she felt herself deflating, all her energy and determination zapped until there was nothing left of her but the hungry beast of worry mauling her stomach.

He was coming for her and she couldn't move, just stood there with her eyes wide and the fire of his gaze scorching her.

"What could you possibly work out that we haven't already?" He took her by the shoulders, held her in place, his eyes narrowing. "What aren't you telling me?"

That knot tightened in her stomach and nausea climbed up her throat. His eyes were so dark, a piercing midnight blue that seemed to see right through her and she knew, she just knew that he knew something. What had he seen, found out? Oh god was he already on their radar, already in danger despite everything? She curled an arm around her stomach, a pitiful attempt at holding herself upright, at keeping her breathing steady. "Why are you pushing this right now?"

"Because-" He raked a hand through his hair, gripped at the strands. "Damn it, Kate, because we're married and we're sneaking around as if we're having an affair!"

She wrapped her other arm around her stomach to join the first, like a vice around her midsection, her fingers digging in between the rungs of her ribs. She turned away from him to hide the surge of tears that rushed to her eyes, to hide the flush of gnawing guilt and wretched worry. He was right, and all she'd done was endanger him more. Her mere presence here, back at home; the ways she couldn't stay away from him were risks she never should've taken.

"It's time you told me." He guided her by the elbow and she slumped down against the side of the bed, wrapped her arms around legs, burying her face against her thighs. She felt Castle sit down beside her, the side of his body smudged tightly against hers, and his warmth so soothing that she just wanted to close her eyes, stay like that forever. He ran a hand up and down her spine, murmuring soothing words.

"Whatever it is, we can deal with it. We'll handle it. Together."

She shook her head. "Not this time. You can't-" She choked around the knot in her throat. "They'd find you."

"Who's 'they'? What's going on?"

"It's because of me. Any association with me puts you at risk. That's why-"

"...You left me?" He finished for her, his voice incredulous and she looked over at him, found the raw hurt in his eyes, the pain edged into his features. It was like her heart was being torn from her chest. She sought his hand, folded hers into his, her fingers digging into the flesh of his palm.

"I can't lose you, Rick. I can't. At least this way I know you'll stay alive."

"And you think this is better? Having to live like this? Without you?" He paused, squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. "Don't you get it, Kate? This is killing me, anyway. It's killing us."

A sob was rattling from her mouth, a wretched, hiccuped sound she couldn't keep inside.

"I'm scared," she admitted, sounded meek and lost and unsure to her own ears. She'd thought she could just handle it, finish it and keep him safe from all harm, but with every passing week, every dried-up lead she just felt drained and weakened, felt like her life, their lives were stolen by a still-unknown force; she saw it disappearing, fading right before her eyes, never to get back. She wanted to believe - she just wanted to come home. To him.

"Kate. Look at me." She lifted her eyes to his, hadn't realized she'd squeezed them closed so tightly that she was seeing stars.

"I know you'd do everything you could to protect me, to keep me safe. I know that. But don't you see? We've always been better together. Always! We took down Bracken, together! What makes you think either one of us would be safer without the other?" He cradled her jaw in his palm and she leaned her face into his touch, felt like weeping at the familiar comfort, the tenderness of his fingertips against her skin.

"Partners. In crime and in life, remember?"

She nodded, recalled the amazing man before her in a sharp suit haloed by the beautiful, almost surreal Hamptons sunset and happiness sparkling in his eyes when he made his promises, when she'd vowed the same in return.

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course." She nodded, brushed her thumb across his knuckles. "I meant every word."

"Good." He nodded, facing her, determination tinting his eyes a dark, penetrating blue. "Then talk."

Kate looked at him, her heart beating a ragged rhythm in her chest. She splayed her hand across his sternum, felt the strong, steady rhythm of his. It felt like courage. So Kate took a deep breath, swallowed past the apprehension, pushed back at the churning fear in her gut. And then she talked.

END