Castle and Ryan had yet to return from relaying the news of Marcus Gates' return to prison to Jerry Tyson, and even with Montgomery's reassurances that they had likely just gone out for a drink, she still felt the worry like a cold knot of dread in the middle of her chest alive and beating. Castle had been pestering her about grabbing dinner, a real dinner, when he came back – calling it their second first date despite the fierce glares she kept giving him and the fact that they had been sharing meals frequently throughout the last two weeks – and he would never just skip out without telling her first.
She was in her car, on her way home when she finally decided to call him.
"Hello?"
Her heart slowed at the sound of his voice.
"Castle," she breathed his name in relief. "Are you still with Ryan?"
"Yeah," he answered, but his voice was rough, strained and unusual, and the relief was gone. Kate pressed harder on the accelerator. Just in case. "We're heading to grab a drink at a bar, the Treasure Cove."
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles blanching.
"Want me to come meet you guys?"
"No, Kate. You go home. You've had a long day."
She swallowed thickly, wishing she could go faster. Something was wrong and she had a feeling she already knew what it was.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," she said slowly, the longer she could keep him on the better, but Castle was already bidding her farewell.
"Hope so, Beckett. I love you."
"Love you too," she murmured, clenching her fingers too tightly around the plastic case of her phone. She called Esposito as soon as Castle clicked off, had him inform backup to meet them at the hotel where they had secured Tyson immediately.
Beckett slammed on the breaks as soon as she made it into the parking lot, tires squealing, the red and blue lights of her vehicle illuminating the building in front of her. She barely remembered to put her cruiser in park before flinging the door open and racing up the stairs to the second floor, straight to room 47.
"Castle!" she called his name into the dark room as soon as she kicked the door open, her voice on the verge of cracking. He had to be okay, he had to-
"It's clear," Castle informed her, wincing under the shine of her flashlight as it swept over him. "He's gone. I'm fine. Ryan needs an ambulance."
"No I don't," Ryan groaned from a few feet away as Esposito hustled across the room to his partner.
"Castle," she breathed, lurching across the space between him and the doorway. "I'm so glad that you're okay."
"He's the Triple Killer. Tyson. He set Gates up to be a copycat."
"I know," she said quietly as she went to work on untying the ripped phone cords from his wrists, smoothing her thumbs into the bones before releasing him and moving to stand in front of his sitting figure once more. "I did the math when you and Ryan didn't come back from talking to Jerry. And then when I called-"
"I knew you would understand," he sighed, relieved, but so drained and so very defeated.
"You hate the Treasure Cove," she smiled softly, tenderly sliding her palm up his cheek, and he nodded, leaned into her touch before taking the hand she offered to haul him upwards.
Her fingers swept over his wrists, feathering over the angry redness that braceleted his skin in concern, but Castle turned his palms up, caught her unsteady fingers.
"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered, biting her lip when it started to quiver.
"You said that already, Beckett," he teased lightly, his hands lifting to her shoulders and rubbing small circles into her skin with his thumbs to soothe her.
"Can't say it enough."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder and inhaled the fading scent of his aftershave. She knew Ryan and Esposito were still in the room and that CSU would arrive within minutes, but all she needed was a moment of reassurance, a moment of him in her embrace reminding her he truly was okay. "I thought I lost you," she confessed and Castle locked his arms securely around her waist, held her until the image of finding him dead in Tyson's hotel room finally dissipated.
"Never," he promised into the skin of her cheek, dusting a chaste kiss there before straightening and allowing his arms to slip from around her frame.
She found him out by the pool after he finished giving his statement to one of the other officers on the scene, the glare of the bright blue water reflecting upwards and painting shimmering shadows across his skin.
"Hey," she murmured, holding out the coffee from the gas station down the street to him.
He tried to force a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Not even close. "Thanks."
She took a seat on the bench beside him, close enough to press her thigh to his, and he glanced down to her curiously.
"Tell me something, Castle," she murmured, hesitant but needing to know. "Why did he let you live?"
He pursed his lips, lowered his gaze to the flimsy plastic cup in his hands.
"To punish me. Make me pay for ruining his plan. Now he's going to kill again all because I couldn't stop him. And I feel so..."
The ache in his voice chiseled at her heart, the anguish of responsibilities he had no right to be burdened with making her selfishly wish he had never shadowed her in the first place. He knew the world was a cruel, brutal place, he'd known that before he had ever met her, but now he had experienced it firsthand and it was not something she would wish upon anyone. Especially not him.
She slid her hand onto his knee, squeezed lightly. "I know the feeling," she stated softly.
His hand covered hers, laced their fingers.
"I know you do," he sighed quietly, pressing his cheek to the top of her head when it fell to rest on his shoulder.
Her eyes pricked with tears, unwanted salty moisture burning at her vision that she immediately blinked away. She had missed this. He made her feel safe and she only wanted the same for him, to wrap him in an identical blanket of security and reassurance, and in moments like these, she almost believed she could.
"Castle?" she said after a few minutes.
"Hmm?" he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair, pushing her onwards.
"About what you said on the phone, I-"
His lips left her hair, his entire upper body suddenly leaning away, shutting her out.
"I know, Kate. You said what you had to, it's fine," he assured her quickly, already withdrawing his hand and preparing to leave her.
"I wasn't-"
"Can we just drop it?" he huffed and she tried not to let it bother her, the fact that he was brushing off something so important, but he had been through a lot tonight. She couldn't hold it against him.
So she rose from the bench instead. "Come on, I'll drive you home."
"I'll get a cab, it's -"
"Castle."
He sighed in defeat and took her hand when she offered it to him again, followed her across the lot to her Crown Vic grudgingly.
"You going to be okay?" she asked while walking him to his door, her fingers loosely tangled with his again. He had been silent the entire ride over, staring out the passenger window thoughtfully. She hadn't wanted to disturb him, but she was worried. She knew what this kind of guilt could do to a person and she didn't want to watch him suffocate under it.
"I'll be fine," he assured her, but if she heard the word 'fine' from his lips one more time she would throttle him. "You want to come in for a bit though?"
She was surprised by the invitation. He had been cold since she had mentioned the words exchanged during the phone call that led her to him, she had assumed he would want to be rid of her as quickly as possible.
"Sure."
He hadn't expected her to say yes, and for some reason, the surprise on his face made her feel worse.
The loft was dimmed and quiet, Alexis and Martha already asleep and blissfully unaware of what they had been through only a couple of hours before.
"Drink?" he asked politely as he headed towards his kitchen, but she hoisted herself onto one of the barstools and shook her head while he poured himself a glass of water. "You sure, Beckett? I still remember how to make your favorite blend of hot chocolate," he grinned, and she couldn't help it, didn't mean to let it happen, but she was forced to bury her face in her hands to hide the pointless tears overwhelming her eyes once again.
She heard him set his glass down, followed by the quick shuffling of his feet around the bar, until she could feel the warmth emanating from him right in front of her.
He hesitated, but only for a moment, and then he was turning her on the barstool, coaxing her into his chest.
"Don't cry, Kate. Please," he murmured into her hair, running his fingers through it as he spoke. "I'm right here, love. I'm impossible to get rid of, remember?"
She choked on a small laugh, felt him exhale in relief, and she fastened her arms around his waist.
"If something happened to you-"
"Nothing will happen to me," he insisted, but that was a promise no person could make.
Kate shuddered and turned her face into his neck, pressed her lips to his skin out of instinct, but Castle froze at the action.
"Beckett."
At her last name, she drew back. He looked lost and unsure and hopeful, and she shouldn't play with him like this, especially not tonight, but she had almost lost him, pictured all the ways he could have been killed in the too long drive to the hotel. And as the images swarmed her mind once more, she tilted forward a little too urgently, needing his mouth on hers.
Castle didn't pull back, didn't push her away or protest. His fingers clenched in her hair and his breathing stuttered, his lips unmoving against hers - the entire exchange so tentative and uncertain.
Kate lifted her fingers to his cheek, brushed the tips of her nails down his skin as she tipped her forehead into his.
"Want to stick around, reaffirm life?" he joked softly, but she was serious as she leant forward to kiss him again, deliberately slanting her mouth over his and pushing her tongue past the weak barricade of his lips. No longer the least bit uncertain in what she wanted.
"Please," she breathed, like it was the magic word, and for him, it was, because his hand rose to cradle her face, angling her to his liking so he could kiss her deeper, hold her closer.
Her legs folded around his waist, hands dove into his hair. Her spine arched, pressing her chest to his, moaning gratefully when his hands slithered down her sides and curled at her thighs, lifted her into his arms and started towards the bedroom.
One of her hands left his hair, went to work at divesting his shirt of buttons as he strode through his office, into his bedroom, slamming the door closed with a kick of his foot. They both went down when he lowered her to the bed, his body heavy and right atop hers and she couldn't even be bothered by the realization that she was breaking her own rules, falling back into bed with the man who had broken her heart. Instead, she arched upwards, let him tug the black turtleneck and then her bra up and off before he lifted on his knees to shrug the unbuttoned dress shirt from his shoulders.
But then he was moving from the bed, out of her line of sight and she bit back the frustrated whine lodged in her throat, too desperate for games. The next thing she knew his hands were on her waist, dragging her down to the edge of the mattress and sliding her slacks down her legs, tossing them towards the closet with her heels.
"Castle, no," she gasped when she felt his lips coasting along her inner thighs and his fingers hooking around her underwear, slipping the plain black cotton down her long legs. His hand curled around her ankle, positioning her heel at his shoulder and her head began to shake at its own volition. They were just supposed to be having sex, reaffirming life just like he said. Not this, not-
Her hips rocketed from the bed when his mouth touched her, his tongue gliding through her folds while his knowing fingers teased along her entrance. Kate grabbed at the sheets, but found little purchase, so she reached for his hair, her nails scoring at his scalp, and he groaned quietly, the vibrations of sound shooting up her spine and sending her teeth into her bottom lip to suppress sounds of her own. But when his fingers slipped inside her, she couldn't help the moan that escaped.
Her other leg ended up over his opposite shoulder, the muscles of her thighs clenching as his mouth sucked on her clit and his fingers moved in and out of her, curling and coaxing her closer to the edge. She hated how well he knew her body, how he knew exactly where to touch and what to do, how he had her coming undone in so little time.
She focused on catching her breath as the shattered pieces of her slowly came back together, on calming the rabbiting beat of her heart while he gently untangled her legs from his shoulders, dropping his lips to every piece of skin he found.
She watched as he stood up, finally stepped out of his pants, and helped position her in the middle of the bed again. It was pointless to protest when he started dropping his mouth to her ribs, her stomach, her shoulder – sucking and nipping at her sensitive skin, marking all the places he knew she could cover up.
"Castle, please," she exhaled, her voice too unsteady to make a proper demand, and Rick slid his hand behind one of her knees, spreading her and she closed her hand around his length, stroked him once before guiding him in.
Her legs wrapped around his thighs, her arms around his neck, sighing at the intimate press of his skin burning against hers.
She had really missed this.
He started to move, unhurried and too gentle, and she undulated her hips sharply, brought his slow rhythm to a stutter. He grunted and stole one of her hands, pinned it above their heads and laced their fingers, driving his hips into hers and sending her nails into his knuckles.
Her head thumped back into the pillow, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes slamming closed because she was already close and they were just so good at this, too good, and why had she thought this would be a good idea?
"Kate," he choked into her jaw and she turned her head, kissed him hard, curling her free hand around his neck to keep his mouth against hers.
"I know," she murmured, her nose clashing with his as he thrust harder and deeper than before, and her control unraveled, her body coming undone with a harsh jerk upwards and a broken sob in her throat.
He followed her over the edge in seconds, her name on his lips, and she dropped a breathless kiss to his temple, trailed her fingers over his ear and listened to his breathing slow in time with hers.
Castle brushed his lips over her brow, her nose, her cheek before he rolled off of her, onto his back, his chest still heaving, and Kate allowed her body to follow, melting into his side. He waited until the sweat had dried and her skin had cooled to lace his arms around her. His fingers danced up and down her spine in that soothing way he knew put her to sleep, but she couldn't doze off here. She craned her neck forward, caught his lips, kissed him deep and long and slow, making sure he could taste the thank god you're alive she painted across his tongue.
She returned her head to his chest, listened to the beautiful rhythm of his heartbeat, forcing her eyes to stay partially opened despite the tempting calls of sleep she found so easily here. She waited until she was sure he was out to ease out of the bed, pressing an impulsive kiss to his forehead before quickly gathering her clothes and escaping into the night back to her apartment.
She showered as soon as she was in the safety of her own home, deposited her clothing into the laundry hamper and stepped into the steaming spray of hot water in hopes of washing away the evidence of the mistake she had made. She scrubbed furiously at her hair, working the shampoo through the strands he had tangled, and pressing her fingers roughly into her scalp to quiet the voice telling her the mistake had not been sleeping with Castle, it had been leaving him to wake alone.
The water and her sweet scented body wash managed to wipe away the scent of his cologne, but the smears of darkening purple marks from his mouth remained present on her skin for days.