The loft is eerily quiet. She's never stepped through this door and felt this haunting feeling bear down on her like it is now. She used to get this feeling in her own apartment when she wasn't able to leave a case at the door, when compartmentalizing her life just wasn't possible. The feeling like the home she's made for herself to be her safe haven is being invaded and violated by trespassers, it's followed her here now.
Kate is standing at the entrance to the loft and just shut the door behind her, now leaning on the deadbolt as she feels her balance drain. She draws in a long, ragged breath and feels her scars want to pull at her, a familiar yet dull pain that she's scared she's going to have to learn to live with. The loft is dark except for the light shining in from the street and the lights mounted above the counter along the wall in the kitchen. She lets the breath out and can physically feel the shadows taunt her, daring her to caution a step forward. The pads of her fingers dig in angrily to her clutch purse that holds nothing more than her phone, a debit card, and twenty dollars in cash as the frustration quickly boils over.
She's stronger than this.
Shutting the door on her emotions, Kate spaces out her eyes, sure not to focus on any one point as she turns to head up the stairs to her bedroom. Her mind is muted, a forceful effort to keep it that way, while hearing only the snapping click of her heels on the hardwood floor of the upstairs hallway. In one single motion, she pushes open the door to her bedroom and flicks on the light, making her way quickly over to the dresser and tossing her small black clutch purse down on top.
When she quickly steps over to her bed and pulls open her duffle bag to change, a thought sneaks through the barrier of her mind. She's pulling out a pair of jeans when it hits down to her heart. She wasn't supposed to be getting undressed this way. She tries to shake it away as she pulls her cotton white cardigan from her shoulders but she knows it won't work. As she undoes the snaps on her open-toed heels, she feels a snake start to coil itself around her heart.
She had her heart completely set on him undressing her. She could visualize it all in her mind's eye, the way he'd pull her cardigan off over her shoulders and use it to pull her against him while his lips devoured her. It was supposed to be a magical night. They were making so much progress. They were prying themselves open to each other. She's never had anyone expose that much vulnerability to her before, never had anyone trust her on that level. She can still remember pushing her body against him and moving her arms around him securely when he told her about his first time learning how to shave.
Kate bats at her eyes as she finishes getting dressed in a pair of jeans, thin black t-shirt, and ankle socks.
He told her not to investigate, but the consequence of possible danger has never been enough to make her waiver or falter. They went after the man she loves. She can't sit idly by and just wait for things to correct themselves. She hardens herself as much as she can and moves out of her bedroom, pouncing down the stairs with as much determination as she can muster up, but the thoughts keep sneaking around her wall the further into the open space of the loft she gets. Martha told her that her and Alexis would be out for the night just so they could have the loft to themselves. He could have hoisted her up in his arms right as they got through the door and carried her to bed if he'd wanted.
Kate grits her teeth angrily and pushes open the door to his office and makes her way over to his desk, grabbing a stack of blank notecards off the corner and pulling the black clip off the top and a pen that's laying next to his closed laptop. She has to organize things if she's ever going to make sense of any of this. She has no access to the case files, she has no power of the badge, she has no access to the crime scene, the body, the ballistics, the evidence, none of it. But she knows this case better than anyone. She didn't make it her life and make no progress.
That thought sours the foundation of her already compromised wall over her heart.
She shakes her head in a small motion as she yanks the cap off the pen and begins to write in large letters, why frame Castle, and then leans over against his desk with her palms pressing into the wood, one clenched in a fist around the black clip that held the notecards together.
Why go after him? Why frame him instead of just kill him? What does his father have to do with any of this? Why didn't he just explain all of this? Would he have even been able to? Why is all of this happening now? Why can't they just leave her alone? Why can't they just let her walk away and be happy? Why do they have to take away the man she loves instead of just killing her? Is Castle's father the one behind everything, all the way back to her mother's murder? Is that why he's framing his own son? Or... or is Castle really lying?
Her nails scrape into the surface of his desk angrily as the darkness encompassing the loft seems to thicken like a blanket of fog. She can feel her scars want to pull at her, seeming like they're just waiting for the chance to cause her pain as soon as she decides to move out of turn. After a moment of the darkness taunting her, she lets her eyes drift shut as she focuses her mind on a single thought.
Putting herself back in that cemetery on that hot, humid, windy day three months ago, uncomfortable in her dress uniform and nervous in front of the crowd of mourners as she delivers her speech, feeling his eyes on her and seeing his emotional turmoil painted plainly on his face when she looked over to him, her heart tugs. She can hear the gunshot in her mind and the instant it's relived, her body tightens at the memory of her body trembling with helplessness from the intense, scolding heat of the bullet entering her chest cavity.
She can feel his arms on her, feel his body over her, flashes of light and blurs of sunlight shining in her mind's eye. She can hear his voice in the noisy background of her ringing ears, her body still warping and twisting in on itself from the pain. Kate's nails dig deeper into the wood of his desk, leaving small impressions of crescent moons as his ruggedly handsome features, soured by the expression of sorrow and worry, become clear in the memory the more she focuses on it. The instant she meets his eyes in the memory, she can feel the pain become unbearable.
Her eyes pop open and the knows now why she told him to look her in the eye and tell her the truth. He loves her.
Kate weakens as her legs become unfaithful. She turns and leans back against the edge of his desk and feels her neck crane on itself. How can he be so sure about a good ending to all this? Her eyes burn as they water and begin to spill over and with tears running down her cheeks, she looks up through the open door to his loft and our over the open expanse of the loft. She doesn't even have anywhere she could go if there was anywhere else. She has nothing to go on.
She's stuck here. Castle, the man who stole her heart without her even noticing, the man she loves wholeheartedly, is stuck in a jail cell for something he didn't do... and the only reason she knows that is because she saw it in his eyes, if that even means anything now. Why is she questioning all of this now? What if he really did kill that guy behind her shooting and is just lying to her?
It's when she draws in a congested breath and cranes her neck that the corner of her eye catches something through the open door to his bedroom. She turns her head to see Sherlock sitting upright in the crease made by the pillows on the bed, staring right at her. Mindlessly, she pushes off his desk, fiddling with the plastic clip with her fingers in one hand and moves into the bedroom, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him onto her lap as she sits down on the edge of the bed, facing out toward the door to the foyer.
She smiles as her fingers pet themselves against the soft, light brown fuzz on Sherlock's sides, his tiny plastic black eyes bringing her the same comfort, safety, and love that they brought her from the moment she pulled him out of that purple gift bag at the hospital. It's the same safety that shielded her as she clutched up to her chest that night at her dad's cabin when a wild beast tried to claw its way into her bedroom from outside. It's the same love she felt that morning in her apartment after quitting her job when she decided to stop lying to herself and accept the truth.
That's what this bear has become to her; a symbol of undeniable truth.
"How do I... wait, like now? Check one, is it... hello?" Sherlock says as he lays in her hands. Kate smiles a watery smile and struggles a belt of laughter.
Why the hell would I risk all that for something as petty as revenge? Sherlock asks her, the same obvious tone Castle used just an hour before in holding becoming audible in her ear.
She knows the man she fell in love with. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't risk a new life with her for something like that. And as her eyes start to wander over his bedroom, she gets lost in a dream.
She likes it here, but she's always felt that she'd want a place when she got married to call their own. A place with no memories attached to it. A place that's brand new to both of them. Just like her mother told her to do that summer she spent just before she went off to Stanford. Now that her job isn't keeping her trapped in the city, maybe she can talk him into moving out somewhere, somewhere where they could raise a family without the noise and pollution. She's always wanted to have her kids grow up with a dog, like she always wanted growing up. Her dad is probably ready to retire soon and he'd probably love to have grandchildren to spoil.
She breathes out a hollow, emotional chuckle as she thinks that there's no real point pretending that's not where they want to head in their relationship. They're in love, after all this is over, they've got nothing standing in their way from diving head first into it. She doesn't want to waste any time in starting to explore who they are as a couple, how good the chemistry will be between them, how in love they will become. Maybe that's what she wants out of her life now. Maybe that's what she wasn't willing to sacrifice for her case and her job. Her future with him.
Her heart feels incredibly heavy as Sherlock sits in her hands, staring up at her.
"I finally accept the truth and you just won't let me have it, will you?" She says to the darkness in the room.
Kate sits in complete silence, listening to her own congested breathing until a rattle sounds through the loft. Her eyes immediately turn toward the closed door separating the bedroom and the foyer when she hears the distinct jiggle of a door handle. When the sound, cautious rattle turns to a violent thud against the door, Kate's breath catches harshly in her throat and her body freezes.
But it only lasts a few seconds before the sound of the door being pounded against and she's up to her feet, panicking for only another split second. When the door finally bursts open, Kate squeezes Sherlock in her hands and gets an idea as she hears the clack of footsteps come through the door. Taking the plastic clip still in one hand, she pulls back the bedsheets as quietly yet quickly as possible, moves the pillows to form a line down the middle of the bed, putting the covers over them, and placing Sherlock at the top of the bed. She takes the plastic clip from the notecards and clips it down against Sherlock's button, and Castle's voice sounds through the speaker.
"How do I... wait, like, now? Check one, is it... hello?" Sherlock says as Kate replaces the covers over him.
As stealthily as she can, Kate moves to the door leading into the office, hiding on the door jam until she can hear the door to the foyer being opened. With her heart slamming against her chest and her lungs straining for a fresh breath of air, she moves through his office on the soft balls of her feet. She's careful to listen for the footsteps go through Castle's office and she can still hear Sherlock sound off from underneath the covers. When she hears the footsteps increase in speed, she moves through the living room as quickly as she can, grabbing the clear glass vase from the center of the coffee table.
She can do this, she thinks as she listens for Sherlock. "How do I... wait, like, now? Check one, is it... hello?"
Sherlock's voicebox makes her heart clench when she can't feel the joy and comfort his voicebox is supposed to bring. When Kate hears the covers being ripped back, she moves around the corner and peers into the open door to his bedroom and can see a uniformed officer standing at the edge of his bed. Her breath stops in her throat and within seconds, she's suffocating.
"How do I... wait, like now? Check one, is it... hello?" Sherlock says more clearly as the officer lowers his gun and grabs for the bear.
Kate moves as quick as she can with the vase in her hands toward the officer, but when a creak in the floorboards echos through the bedroom and the officer turns with his gun raised, her body locks and she can feel the memory come back to her in full.
"Stay with me," he pleads, begging her, "Stay with me, okay?"
The vase crashes to the floor, making a loud explosion reverberate through the loft and Kate's body is reacting by jumping out of the way and scattering across the floor with the broken glass in terror as she tries her hardest to escape from the gun's aim. Her legs flailing and her socks sliding across the hardwood floor, she frantically runs to her feet toward the open door of the loft. When she hears the distinct sound of the fabric of his jacket scraping as he moves his arm up to aim at her again, it's then that another body appears in front of her.
Kate gasps loudly as all she can see is the dark green fabric of a worn army jacket and all she can hear is the sound of two gunshots booming and popping across the loft. She loses herself and falls, grabbing onto the railing of the stairs to keep from falling on the floor and focuses everything she has on regaining her bearings of the situation lost to her from the moment she lost control of it.
All she sees is a man, Castle's build and Castle's height, just as he described, clutching his right side as he aims into the bedroom, firing off two shots in rapid succession, then another single shot. The next thing she can hear is the metallic clatter of the gun dropping to the floor just before she hears the body drop.
"How do I... wait, like, now? Check one, is it... hello? How do I..." Sherlock continues to sound off from the bedroom as the man in front of him, still clutching his side, lowers his gun down to his side with a heavy breath.
After a moment of catching his breath, he looks over to her as she clings to the railing of the stairs. It's then that he seems to smile and he chuckles, "That's alright, I wouldn't thank me either." He says in a rough, gravelly voice.
Kate climbs to her feet, her legs feeling like unmolded jello and her eyes glued to the man in front of her with his arm wrapped around his stomach. "You're... Castle's..."
He's still slow to catch his breath and moves on ahead of her in the conversation as he looks through to his bedroom and nods his head. "He probably used a wire transfer for the payment. Chances are," He continues as Kate moves around him to look into the bedroom, "he probably had some debt he needed paid off."
The officer is splayed out on the floor next to his bed with a small hole perfectly placed in between his eyes, Sherlock resting in front of him, still sounding off his voicebox. Kate quickly moves into the bedroom and snatches Sherlock up in her hands, pulling the clip off his button and petting his side. She pushes out a hard breath and starts speaking as she turns.
"Thank you, but just who..."
The words fall when all she sees is the foyer empty.
A/N: Let me know if this chapter is a bit of a word salad. Had to jump around a bit more than I was expecting.