Whisper of Life, a castle fanfic

A/N: Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. For Castle Halloween Bash 2014

Whisper of Life

He arrived with his eyes haunted, hooded with fear.

She did not ask, did not offer words of comfort. In this world, there was no use for false sympathy. She brought them to the mayor, Victoria Gates, to be evaluated. They had to work, to prove themselves worthy and useful to stay.

She knew him, Richard Castle. She had read his books, before the world fell into a state of chaos and destruction. Her mother was a big fan of his and she had not understand her love for his words, until she died. After her mother died, Kate Beckett finally understood the magic of Richard Castle's words, how his words tugged at her heartstring, how they stirred emotions from the deepest corner of her heart.

In this world, she had found solace in his words.

He was given the task of recording every event's detail. He was good with words and they needed someone to tell their story, in the event their town, their supposedly impregnable town, fell. And hopefully, his words would serve as a warning to the future generation, if there were going to be a future.

He decided, right from the start, that he would be shadowing her.

"The writer and the hunter," he had grinned, his blue eyes twinkling in the bright light.

She had rolled her eyes, slung the rifle across her shoulder and tossed him a gun.

He made friends quickly.

Within the week, he had won Ryan over. Within two, he had won Esposito. Within a month, he had won the head hunter, Montgomery.

Still, he had not won over Kate Beckett.

She was a mystery he could not uncover and she intended to keep it that way.

"Why a hunter?" he had asked, looking at her with curiosity.

"What?"

"Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart, good-looking women become lawyers, not hunters. And yet, here you are. Why?"

She looked up from the sniper rifle.

"This isn't normal circumstances," she said, her words cold and harsh.

"Yes but there are so many jobs, so many other options. You could have chosen to be a medic, a-"

She fired. The bullet ripped through the air, embedding itself deep into the forehead of the undead.

"I don't know Rick, you are the novelist. You tell me." She smirked, daring him.

His smile matched hers. "Well, you're not bridge and tunnel, no trace of the boroughs when you talk. So that means Manhattan that means money. You went to college, probably a pretty good one. You had options, lots of options, better options and yet you still chose this. Something happened. No, not to you. No, you are wounded but you're not that wounded. It was someone you cared about. It was someone you loved. It was the undead."

Her smile faded. Anger coiled in her stomach. No, not anger. Pain, fresh pain that surfaced once more. She remembered her mother, brave and kind, snatched away from her.

Kate was nineteen, only nineteen when the virus fell upon Earth. The details of the "virus" were undisclosed. The people only knew that it spread fast and was deadly. It took only six months to wipe out half the Earth's population. Not wipe out exactly. The infected were technically dead and yet they could still move. They were zombies; the monster that the world once thought only lived in fictional books.

One bit her mother when she tried to save a baby. Kate watched her mother turn, her flesh rotting as her skin turned yellow and black. She heard her mother's agonized screams. Kate heard her yelling for her to run, to escape to the next safe town. She watched as her mother begged her father to kill her before she could harm any of them. She saw their tears, she saw their pain. And she heard her father's sob as the bullet touched her mother's head.

She saw, and she never forgot, never forgave the undead.

She looked at Richard Castle, long and hard. "Cute trick, don't think you know me."

His smile was gentle, almost as if he understood.

She hated him.

She grew to tolerate-like-him. His presence was a much needed distraction, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

He had his own story, she could tell. He carried a burden on his shoulders, one that he hid well. She could see it. They were essentially the same. His eyes reflected the same pain she had. The shadows favoured him, swallowing him in whole when no one was looking. She could see past his smile, his jokes, his happy-go-lucky facade.

But she didn't ask, didn't allow herself to wonder.

She didn't allow herself to succumb to her attraction, didn't allow herself to fall in love.

She had to protect the town, to kill the undead. She had to ensure no one was infected. She had to-

But with him, she forgot. She forgot her obsession; she forgot her need to protect. With him, she let herself relax, she let herself laugh.

He, he was dangerous.

In the world filled with the undead, the living had no right, no way to love, to live.

Roy Montgomery had died, turned by an undead. He was trying to protect her, to save her. It was her fault. It was all her fault.

And she would have had to pull the trigger, if it wasn't for Castle.

Her almost-father, her mentor had died before her eyes. She had to witness someone she loved have his sanity torn away, have his flesh rot, once again. She cried, she yelled, she begged for Castle to let her go as Montgomery changed. She had collapsed next to his corpse, her fingers digging into his shirt, tears dripping down.

Castle held her in his arms, a comforting hug, warm and gentle.

She turned towards him and buried her face into his shirt, allowing herself to hide in his embrace. They sat there, losing track of time. She allowed him to lead her back to her house, allowed him to undress her, to wash her. She was numb, she was unfeeling.

She allowed him to tuck her in bed but she did not allow him to leave.

"Stay," she whispered, barely audible even to herself.

He was shocked but he complied. He crawled into her bed and left a respectable distance between them.

A distance she did not want.

She pulled him close, draping his arms around her. She pressed her nose against his collar, allowing his scent to overwhelm her senses.

She pressed her lips against his, hungry, desperate for his touch. He stopped her, pushing back her fallen hair.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

His scorching lips captured hers. With fumbling hands, they stripped off their clothes, allowing their body to be free of restraints.

His mouth left hers. He kissed her neck, following an invisible trail down to her breasts and down to her heat. He kissed her clit and let his tongue replace his lips. She buckled against his mouth, allowing the pleasure to take over her mind, her body.

She pulled him up and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. He entered her with a thrust and she clutched onto him, her nails digging into his back.

They were drowning and they clutched at each other, held each other, knowing that if they drowned, they had each other.

With his name on her lips, she came, tightening around him.

He came not too long after her, his lips against her skin, murmuring her name.

They swallowed the three words they longed to say, they feared to hear.

Love, in this world, was unheard of.

Love killed.

But listening to their heartbeats, they could hear their love take a life, away from the death and gore, away from the destruction and pain.

Love, was a whisper of life, a shimmer of hope.

She told him her story after the funeral.

He listened, not once did he interrupt, not once did he comment. He held her hand and took in everything she said.

He understood. He understood her pain. He looked at her with empathy, not sympathy. He knew that she had no need for comforting words. She had heard them all. He knew that what she needed was someone to hold her hand and support her.

He was there.

He was always there.

"Castle," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"If… If I were bitten-"

"You won't!"

"If I were bitten, please… Please kill me before I hurt anyone," she breathed.

"You won't be bitten. I won't let you," he growled.

She didn't reply.

They found an undead, a young child no more than ten years of age. Half her face was mauled off and she was missing a limb. She looked like a broken porcelain doll, with her pale skin and red hair, shattered by the gruesome reality. She was still dressed in a beautiful pink dress and matching shoes.

Castle stopped breathing once he saw her.

"Castle!" she shouted.

He was frozen, his eyes brimming with unreadable emotions. He stood there, entranced, staring at the undead.

The child made her way towards him, her teeth barred in preparation to devour her next meal.

She fell as Kate's bullet took her down.

He snapped out from his thoughts. His fists were clenched, his knuckles turned white.

He allowed her to lead him back.

"I had a daughter. Once," he started. "Alexis. She had the most beautiful red hair. She was eight then and was bitten by an undead in school. She came home trembling. She didn't… She understood what was happening to her and she was so brave, too brave. She was burning up inside, the venom eating her heart up. And all she said, all she said was 'Daddy, don't worry. I am not in pain.' I-" he swallowed thickly, willing his tears back.

"I could not help her. I could not save her. She was burning in my arms as her flesh started to rot. She begged me to end it, Kate. She begged me. She told me to kill her before she could hurt me. She was eight. She was eight and she was trying to protect me. And I-I couldn't…"

She enveloped him in a hug, cradling his head.

His tears soaked through her blouse.

She rocked him and stroked his hair, comforting him.

He clutched onto her, his wracking sobs echoing in the room.

There were too many undead and there were only two of them.

There wasn't supposed to be so many of them.

It was a simple hunt. Kill the three undead spotted and that was it. There weren't supposed to fifteen. Twelve undead, ten bullets.

"Shit," he hissed, clutching his gun tight.

"How many bullets you've got left?" she asked, panic in her voice.

"Three. You?"

"Five." She cursed. There was ten undead left, still too many for them.

She knew that there would not be any backup. They could not afford to lose anyone else, not since Royce and Davison were gone.

If they were bitten, if they turned, the rest would hunt them. They wouldn't save them. She knew that. She knew that right from the start. She didn't fear death then but now, staring at death straight in the face, she had a crippling fear coiling in her stomach.

She did not want to die.

She did not want Castle to die.

She fired.

He fired.

Two down, eight undead to go, six more bullets.

The world became a blur. All she knew was that she had to kill those bastards, to put a bullet through their damned head, survive this and kiss the hell out of Castle when it was over.

Kiss him and love him.

Love him.

Lo-

"Kate!"

She heard his voice.

The surrounding was a haze. There was something burning inside of her, snaking through her veins and setting her blood on fire. Her stomach lurched. She saw stars in her eyes. No, not stars, it was claws now. There were claws in her eyes, clawing and scratching their way out. There was a ringing in her ears, a deafening roar breaking through. She was aflame. She was burning. She was-

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see.

"Kate?"

She grasped at the voice, the only thing that felt real, that felt safe.

"Stay with me, Kate."

Castle.

She was turning. She could feel it. The venom. It was tearing her body apart.

She was turning.

She reached for him, for his face.

"C-Castle," she gasped.

"Kate." His touch was warm, gentle, anchoring her down.

"I love you."

"I love you too Kate," his voice cracked.

Something wet was dripping onto her. Tears?

"It's time. D-do it Castle," she commanded, trying to form the words.

Her body was fighting against her mind. She did not know how long she could remain lucid enough to not hurt him.

She could feel the last whisper of life in her dying out.

"K-Kate!"

"P-please."

Fire. Fire was blazing inside of her. Her mind was in a swirl and she craved. She craved for the taste of flesh, for the taste of blood.

It was loud, so loud. She could not think.

She wanted to scream.

Then, there was silence.

Silence.

Richard Castle let her body down.

He walked away.

He returned with his eyes haunted, his eyes hooded with fear.

And there was no whisper of life left.