Go Out Fighting 3: Never
It was a near thing, but he managed to swallow another pill, and then, of course, he made her do the same. She knew it had to be psychosomatic, but she felt the effects immediately, the letdown of her whole body into heavy bliss.
She was so tired.
Castle kept a hand at her waist and leaned down, touched his nose to the side of her face in greeting and good night both. She brushed her fingers over the right side of his jaw, where she knew he could still feel it, then turned back to her room.
So today would be a waste. They'd both slept from just before lunch until five, and now here they were about to crash again. But he needed to take the muscle relaxtant or else his jaw wouldn't loosen enough to let him eat in the morning, let alone finish dinner. She knew it frustrated him to no end, knew that he seriously hated going to bed hungry, but she didn't know what else they could do about it.
Kate changed into shorts and a tshirt, pulling it on over her head so slowly. She brushed her teeth and remembered she'd left the milkshake out on the counter. She went back for it, put it in the fridge with the hope that he'd be able to drink it later. Maybe even tonight, if that pill worked fast enough, if he woke hungry sometime in the middle of the night.
She stood swaying at the counter, the thick feeling swamping her senses, tried to figure out what to do next. Something about Castle. Oh. No. Bed. Sleep. She needed sleep.
Kate headed back for the bedroom, stumbled at the edge of her doorway, her shoulder glancing off the wood frame. She winced but made it to the bed, leaned over in that awkward maneuver that kept her wound from stretching, and got partway under the covers before she just didn't have the strength to do more.
She laid there. Half in and half out of the covers, cold in the air-conditioning. The light was still on; the lamp cast a circle of quiet around the index card, burning steady and unwavering before her. She reached out and grabbed it, curled her fingers around the soft, smooth edges, brought it to her chest.
She was so tired. She just-
But she got up, sat on the edge of the bed with her eyes closed for a moment to gather the last of her consciousness around her like a blanket.
And then she stood up slowly, her body loose and dangerously liquid, made her way to his bedroom. His door was open as if he'd been waiting on her and she was suddenly so very glad she'd made it.
Castle was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, already asleep, and she longed to follow.
She made her way to his side, crawled up next to him, and curled on one side, her back warm against his ribs, her head pillowed on his outflung arm. He made a noise and she closed her eyes, brought her arms up to keep warm, dug her toes into the sheets so she could slide her legs under.
Castle grunted and curled around her, a sudden move that left her draped in him, his arm thick and strong against her sternum, holding her together.
And then it was easy to fall asleep.
When he woke, his stomach growling in hunger, it was still mostly dark. The faint tinge of pale-yellow lit the outward edges of the window, but it was nowhere near time to get up.
It was-
Kate was here.
It took him a moment to comprehend the tousle of dark hair spread along his palm, the head resting on his arm, the lithe body against his chest, the legs tangled with his. Kate.
She was warm and long and alive and breathing next to him. He was coming out of the fog of medicine but it was still too early to wake, and so he stayed close, his arm wrapped at her waist, his nose at the back of her neck. She smelled like sleep and chocolate milk; she smelled like skin.
He didn't want to move from here. He wanted her to always be the one he woke to, sleeping next to him. Even weary and a little broken, even struggling, she was beautiful and strong and alluring.
He pressed his mouth so very lightly to the skin at her spine, barely felt it, and then nestled his forehead against her to breathe again. Long breaths, slow breaths, happy.
His knees came up slowly, curled behind her legs, the warmth of her weight on his thighs. He could feel her ribs moving in and out with her breathing, that even, deep rhythm. She'd never fallen asleep with him and stayed. But here she was, and he didn't even remember her coming-
Was she sick? Maybe she hadn't felt good. Maybe a dream or-
He curled his arm up to bring her close and hovered over her. His forearm was braced against her chest with both her hands cradling his, as if to keep him there. He felt something with rough edges against the back of his hand and peered closer, trying not to wake her, slowly turning his palm until he could see what she had.
She was holding his I love you in her hand.
When she woke, it was like she was being pulled by a string in her gut slowly and inexorably upward. Her eyelids were heavy but she was surfacing in the warm lake of awareness; she felt him behind her, strong, and she could hear him breathing.
She was still so tired. The pain medicine was good, it did the job, she already could sense that her body was more fluid, more easily managed now. It wouldn't last long, and today was a physical therapy session at ten that was sure to ruin her, but at the moment, she felt -
pretty good. Heavy with the temptation to sleep, but though she ached, it was bearable.
She could stay here. Relax in it.
Kate wasn't good at relaxing, but she did slowly roll over within the circle of Castle's arm, bringing them face to face. He was asleep. His mouth was open as he breathed.
His mouth was open.
She lifted her head to look at him, brushed her fingers over his jaw softly, not wanting to wake him and ruin it, not wanting him to know that he apparently had no trouble when he was asleep. It was beautiful, the open jaw and the view of his teeth, his tongue, the dark cavern of his mouth. She couldn't believe she was so ridiculously joyful about seeing him drooling on the pillow, but-
Well. With healing came the chance to-
do more.
Kate leaned in and pressed a kiss to his jaw, so softly, so lightly, trying not to hurt him, not to wake him. She smoothed the tips of her fingers along the scar at the left side of his face, his ear so pink and shiny, reconstructed expertly of course. Only the best. He deserved the best for his cool police scars, as he'd called them.
His hair stood up in spikes and she couldn't resist scratching his scalp, leaning up to kiss his forehead, the warm skin and the heat of sleep under her lips.
And then she wanted - she was warm and her scar didn't pull - she wanted to kiss him on the mouth, slide her tongue inside and touch his. Her heart pounded with it, her palms suddenly damp, her body too warm.
She stared at him, the slack jaw of sleep, wanting so much, and for the first time not sure he could give it to her, not even now.
Kate put her head back down on his arm, her body pulsing with her own heartbeat, and closed her eyes, tried to will it away.
Her neck suddenly itched and she reached back, felt the corner of something hard in Castle's hand where his arm curled up to hold her. This thing was poking her skin, uncomfortable. She twisted a little in his embrace, slipped two fingers into the space between her neck and his hand, pulled out an index card.
I love you.
Her heart flipped.
She'd brought it with her last night - she didn't remember doing that, not exactly, but she had been clutching it to her chest when she fell asleep lately, and so she must have brought it in.
She pressed the worn, fading letters to her mouth and closed her eyes, then turned her head back to him. She reached out, the card in her palm, and pressed it against the hollow at the base of his throat, felt the heat of his skin even through the paper.
She leaned in, breathing his breath, her head pounding, her heart dizzy, and then touched his bottom lip with her mouth, tentative and yielding. When he didn't stir, didn't startle in pain or jump away, she slid her tongue along the right corner of his mouth and then sealed her lips to his, hoping this time to wake him up.
He woke with her tongue in his mouth.
Castle's eyes opened, stunned, confused, and then he came to senses and kissed her back.
Hard.
He felt the pop of his jaw as he opened his mouth wider to her, exaltation and arousal both in the noise he made as her tongue devastated him. Her body was moving, seeking him, and he held her tighter, tried to still that dangerous and compelling rhythm.
She wasn't aggressive - she was exploratory. Her mouth investigated his, drew confessions from his body he wasn't sure she was ready to hear. But she didn't stop, didn't move away, kept hearing them, recording them with the play of her tongue against his.
The effort of his hands at her skin, the smooth slope of her back, stood witness to the shudder that passed through her body. He pressed her tighter to him, leaning heavy against her, pushing her back into the bed even as he tried to draw her hips up.
She unfurled under him, lifted her head for more, her breath a moan.
How did this happen? And so fast?
"Kate," he grit out, used his teeth to numb her bottom lip with the force of all the things he'd held back. He groaned when her hand slid under his shirt, slid upwards.
She sucked in a breath that he could taste. "Castle. Your jaw?"
"Ignoring it," he said, sucked on a spot at her neck, used his tongue to bathe it.
"This okay?" She spoke into his temple, her teeth at the ridge of his eyebrow, her fingers brushing over his stomach. He jerked in response.
"Best medicine." He was moving to the collar of her tshirt, trailing his lips, when something cut against his neck. He jerked back in surprise, released her hip to clutch at whatever it was, laughed when he felt the index card.
He quirked his eyebrow at her, pulled it out from between them. She was smirking up at him, so he tapped her forehead with it, his eyes a question.
She shrugged at him, lifted her head to claim his mouth again, her tongue liquid gold, quicksilver, mercurial all. He claimed the kiss aggressively, grunted as his jaw cracked too wide, locked, the hinged bone freezing up, stiff and aching, and she dropped her head back, breathless, a wordless and inarticulate little cry.
Damn it.
But her hands stroked lightly along his jaw even as he winced, stroked over and over. He ducked his head to lie in the crook of her neck as he slowly worked his jaw closed, millimeter by agonizing millimeter. Kate's mouth at his temple burned, soothed, her fingers holding him to her, feather light but tethers to everything there was between them.
"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured. "Soon, Castle."
Something brushed his cheek and he turned his head, saw the card in her fingers, saw its words reflected again in her eyes.
I love you.