LOOK GUYS! AN UPDATE! Seriously. I am so sorry for the delay. It is 95% to blame on the fact that a few days after my last update, I got a Tumblr account. (the link is in my profile if you want to check it out..) The other 5% goes to my horse. I've been spending so much time with her. But I'm glad I have been. It's fantastic. :) But let me say this- I promise that it won't take almost a month for another update. Really. Seriously. I am so sorry. You can also blame my sister, who has been hoarding our computer. And I really don't want to write fanfiction on my parents' computer. That's..awkward.
Another quick note- So who's excited for Season Four? I updated just in time for the ComicCon panel on Sunday! WHEE. So happy.
THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed thus far. I did take your opinions into account this chapter! And I think I did something that will please the majority of you in the long run.. Most creative idea goes to Oliver Haley, who suggested that the bullet goes through Castle and into Beckett, and they both end up side by side in recovery. I didn't use that idea, but I really liked the originality!
Okay. This marks the beginning of Part Two. It's titled "Clinch" because a clinch in boxing, I guess, is when the two opponents are leaning on each other and not throwing punches. Ehh? Pretty good, right? So maybe that gives you a hint on how this next part will go.
And just so you guys remember what's going on, here's a refresher from the last chapter: Kate goes into the precinct. She's pissed off. She has an unexpected heart-to-heart with Shaw. She wants to apologize. So they're both at the funeral. Have eye-sex during Beckett's eulogy ("someone to stand with you.."), and then all hell breaks loose when a sniper shoots at Kate. Got it?
Dedicated to AllusionToAnIllusion, who has been waiting for this chapter for a long time. Here ya go, twinsy.
Part Two: Clinch
Now, they had to stand with each other. Lean on each other.
-
Chapter One
-
Kate heard a moan come from Castle as they hit the ground, and the detective, unscathed, rolled over to examine her fallen partner.
"Castle…" she murmured, noticing his hand reflexively drawn to his right side.
There was no blood seeping through his fingers, no blood spilling out underneath him and staining the drying green grass red, just the blood-curling cries he emitted as his left hand came to cover the other.
It wasn't stopping her from worrying.
He grunted in pain again as he tried to sit up, the shouts of Esposito the only clear sound that could permeate the screams of the funeral attendees- some cowering in fear beneath their chairs, their loved ones, anything they could find, and others running blindly through endless rows of marble, all rationality gone from them.
"Castle down! Castle down! Lanie! Lanie! We need you over here."
Kate straddled Castle to give herself leverage to press against his rising torso, gently pushing him back on to the ground. Panting heavily, he fought against the pressure of her hand, crunching his body forward. He was only met with more force.
Pain was coursing through him, and he gasped to catch his breath in an attempt to ease his shock. It took him a moment to remind himself:
I'm not dying. I'm not dying. I'm not dying.
His sea-colored eyes, clouded with confusion, met hers- they were calm, comforting, and a thin smile graced her lips.
"Shh," she cooed, echoing the sound over and over again as her arm reached around his shoulderblades to support him as she laid him flat against the grass, her face inches from his.
He tried to lift himself up once again.
"No it's okay. Don't get up. It's going to be okay, Rick."
The tenderness in her voice relaxed him, and his breathing slowed. And if there hadn't been a sadistic madman in their presence and his two beloved red-headed women weren't struggling against the grasps of federal agents, holding them back from racing to his side, he could have stayed like this forever.
She noticed the slowing of his breathing and reached a hand out to brush his bangs from his forehead.
"Hey, hey, hey…" she kept mumbling, pleading with him to keep his attention on her. "Stay with me."
He wanted to pull her to him, tell her that he wasn't going anywhere. He was fine. He was okay. He hadn't been shot, and everything was going to be okay. That he was going to stand with her no matter what.
Instead, his dazed mind failed him, and rather than stringing together the most heartfelt confession of feelings he could muster, it simply came out, "I'm fine; it's just my wrist."
She cocked her head. Her eyes widened. She leaned back and puffed out a heavy sigh, mouth falling agape.
Her palm clapped over her lips as she thrust her gaze toward the sky, and she let out another sigh of relief.
And then her hand left her mouth, gently making contact with his shoulder.
He cringed as she did so, and his good hand reached across his chest where she struck him.
A smirk crossed his face as she knelt at his side.
"What was that for?"
"You scared the crap out of me, jackass."
A mirthful sound came from her mouth, in spite of herself, and he found himself lightly sniggering along with her.
They were going to be okay.
Beckett turned as she heard Lanie call out to her, and the ME reached the pair just as another round of shots rang out.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"Shots fired. We have shots fired at LI National, West Fifth Drive, Section 2U."
The voice of Agent Shaw jarred her officers into motion. Those in the adjoining sections of the cemetery casually but quickly shuffled down the tiny cemetery streets, hands hovering on their Glock 22s.
Another shot erupted over the top of the gravestone the sniper hid behind, striking an agent nearby Avery in the arm.
"We're blown. All units go hot," this command barked from Avery.
A cavalry of Feds swarmed the area, two separating from the group to take care of their injured comrade, as more screams were drowned out by a third crackling muzzle blast which shot straight into the air. A warning. A dare.
Come get me.
Within seconds, Shaw, Avery, and the SWAT team had formed a perfect semi-circle around the sniper and his post behind the gravestone. Their guns were drawn. They were cool, composed. The epitome of focus.
At the center of the ring was a demoniac man hell-bent on carrying out his order.
It was a compulsion.
Kill. Kate. Beckett.
His lanky form was nothing to be afraid of. He was really rather average-looking. Jet black hair combed neatly. A middle-class caliber business suit. A large bag at his feet, presumably where he had kept his gun.
Nobody would have looked at him twice.
But what sent a chill though Agent Shaw was the ruthless darkness in his eyes, the excited quiver in his hands as he kicked the bipod under the rifle and leapt to his feet. That barbaric, howling laugh he let out when Shaw told him to give it up, that he was surrounded.
It was all fun and games for the cold-blooded killer, even with twenty-three gun barrels staring him down. He was being tested. It was a thrill.
"Give up?"
His voice seemed to slither out of his throat. Hissing. Twisted. Slimy.
"Put the gun down, Held," Shaw said evenly. "Your buddy McAllister sold you out."
"McAllister," he spat. "That fucking weakling could never keep his damn mouth shut for anything."
Shaw's mouth curled into an unnerving smile. And then she did what she did best.
She profiled.
"We know all about your association with him and the Mayor. We know that he played messenger from the Mayor to you right as this all started to go down- that if anything were to happen, you were going to continue the mission. Isn't that right?"
"I did what he told me to do."
"Yes, you did. You always did what he asked. But with each and every hit, every success, you became more and more afraid of a failure. What would that mean for you? How would you be punished? Until it became an uncontrollable urge. Every order you had to carry out. Even once the Mayor was arrested…"
Held's rage boiled over, his voice crackling with anger.
"You don't fucking know me!"
His gun was waving around wildly as he continued.
"He would have wanted me to. Once Montgomery was dead, I knew I had to take the final step. It was left in my hands, and the order was to kill her."
The final two words were punctuated with stabs into the air with the barrel of his rifle.
At this, Avery squared his stance and flicked the safety catch off. The magazine was loaded, the intricate rifle aimed directly at the temple of Nathaniel Held.
Shaw distracted him as her partner readied himself for his one chance at a clear shot. If it was needed.
"You're not going to kill her, Held. Just put the gun down, and this can end. Nobody has to die," Shaw responded calmly.
He took two large, heavy steps forward, clinging to his rifle, now pointed at Shaw's chest.
"Don't. Make. A move," he muttered caustically.
"Last warning, Held."
Held's finger searched for the trigger, and Avery reacted without another thought, a round of .308 caliber bullets striking the criminal just above his ear.
Nathaniel Held's body jolted, stiffened, and then limply fell to the ground, limbs contorting all around.
It was finally over.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Lanie's preliminary diagnosis was that Castle's right wrist was fractured, and as soon as they could, the doting Martha and Alexis had swept in and immediately demanded that he see a doctor.
He arrived at Mount Sinai in the front seat of an ambulance, the injured agent being tended to in the back.
He waited for what seemed like hours, when in all actuality, it was only thirty minutes. His whole hand was immobilized but still throbbing with pain, and throughout the time he waited, he wondered if by some cruel twist of fate, Dr. Crotch Rocket Josh Davidson would just so happen to pass by the radiology department and see him.
But the doctor who greeted him was anything but Adonis. He was short, round, bald, smiley. Like a cherub. A cherub named Dr. Martin.
Castle was led down to the x-ray room, where he was told to sit in a chair underneath a large, bulky machine, which hung from the ceiling. He lifted his right hand onto a table and carefully spread his fingers apart as much as he could while the lab technician laid a lead shield across his lap. (As the technician had teased him, "Wouldn't want to zap your balls off.")
Dr. Martin informed Castle that he would have full results in the next day or so, and for the time being, a wrist brace would be sufficient in keeping the bones still.
The three thanked the orthopedic doctor, and Martha and Alexis ushered Castle outside before he could try to bargain with Dr. Martin to have his x-ray results done quicker.
"You'll be fine," Martha chided as she theatrically threw her hand in the air to hail a cab.
Alexis exchanged an amused glance with her father before asking him, "Is it feeling okay? Are you alright?"
He sighed and wrapped his un-injured arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her ginger hair.
"Fine, pumpkin. I'm fine."
Shortly after, a yellow car pulled to the curb, and the trio climbed inside, Castle seated in the middle of his mother and daughter.
A short silence followed as they situated themselves for the trip downtown, when Martha finally piped up.
"Richard, I just have to say this."
He cocked his head toward her and furrowed his brow.
"How thoughtful of you to give me a warning, Mother."
She grimaced, a hand covering his knee, her blue eyes staring into a reflection of her own.
"I'm so glad you're okay, but what the hell were you thinking? You had Alexis and I worried sick."
Alexis had turned away from them, concentrating on the throngs of people on the sidewalk. But one look at her, and they both knew that there were tears brewing in her eyes. To his daughter, Castle had always seemed invincible. Nothing could possibly take him down. But once he started shadowing Beckett, that had all changed. She worried for his safety daily, even when he first began following the detective around. And after all the times he could have been struck with a bullet, frozen to death, or had been fatally bitten by a man who thought he was a vampire, the intensity of her fear over her father had grown exponentially. Castle cast his eyes down at his splinted hand, then toward his mother again.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Alexis whipped her head toward her father, her pale blue eyes glossy.
"Dad, why did you do that?" she asked in a hushed voice.
Castle peered back down at his wrist and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.
"She's going to get herself killed."
"She's a grown woman," Martha piped up. "She's a homicide detective, for God's sake! It's her job. It's her life."
His head lolled back against the seat, his palm coming to land across his anguished eyes.
"If anything happens to her…" he trailed off.
Alexis and Martha watched and waited for him to continue, but he only rubbed the hand over his stubbled chin and sighed.
"Oh, Richard."
His mother placed a gently hand on his knee.
"Dad," Alexis began. "Why don't you just tell her?"
He frowned at his daughter- not a frown that was based in disapproval or conceit, but rather misery.
"Lex, it's not…"
"Why?" she cut him off, conviction in her voice. "Why is it so complicated?"
"I don't want to ruin what we have," he responded immediately. "I can't bear to lose that. Do you want to see me become a grumpy old man?"
Alexis pushed aside his attempt at adding a light-hearted tone to the conversation.
"Well, what about Ashley and I? We have a great relationship, and if something were to happen, I don't know that we could ever recover and stay friends. And yet, here we are, taking the risk."
"Alexis…" he admonished.
But Martha wouldn't have it, either.
"Richard, the girl has a point."
He shot his mother a harsh look, but she continued.
"You care for that girl more than any woman I've ever seen you with. You wouldn't have taken a bullet for Meredith or Gina. Hell, I don't even know if you would have done that for Kyra."
Castle found comfort in once again staring down at his cock-up splint, the fingers of his free hand poking at the fuzzy Velcro.
Alexis sighed and circled her arm around his bicep, giving it a little squeeze.
"Dad, don't let her slip away."
XxXxXxXxXxX
Kate took a tepid step toward the door of the morgue, debating whether or not it was in her best interest to walk in. She knew that Lanie would bring up the funeral, ask her if she was feeling alright, and then that would inevitably lead to a conversation about Castle, in which Kate would swear up and down that nothing was going on.
It had happened so many times before. Different precursory events, same end result.
But Kate had an odd feeling of loneliness creeping through her, and she found that being amidst a hoard of FBI agents did little to cure that. She could have let the antics of Ryan and Esposito entertain her; they were upstairs with the agents as well, but she found that she wasn't in the mood for their company.
What she needed was girl talk.
So Kate grappled the handle and swung it open, her eyes spotting a quick blur of brown, blue, pink, and silver crashing onto the ground.
Lanie had been carrying a tray of tools and had dropped them in surprise at Kate's entrance.
"Girl, you better be thankful that I work with dead bodies and not live ones! Could have poked someone's eye out with that flying scalpel."
Kate only smirked and replied, "Well, hello to you too."
"Sorry, but you scared me! I told you I don't expect the living after seven."
The detective's smirk curled into a bigger smile.
"It's only five."
Lanie crossed her arms and shot her friend a critical look.
"Yeah," she brushed off the comment and sarcastically remarked, "Well, I think the real question is what brings you down here rather than you going out and getting your freak on with Writer Boy?"
Kate narrowed her eyes and sneered as she watched Lanie turn and perch herself on top of an autopsy table.
"Awfully forward today, Lanie."
She shrugged.
"Not in the mood to be my usual witty self. It's been a hard day."
"My point exactly."
The medical examiner let out a heavy sigh.
"Come on, Kate."
The detective noticed her friend's change in tone. Kate leaned against the door, placing her hands on her hips, staring at the tile floor.
In a muted tone, she said, "Do you know how scared I was that he got shot?"
Lanie's eyes softened, and she gave Kate a sympathetic look, mumbling reassuringly, "But he didn't, honey. He's okay. You're okay."
Kate met Lanie's gaze and grimaced, shaking her head.
She had to be honest with Lanie. She never had been a good liar. Whenever her friend made a comment about her and Castle, she never denied it. She just shot a snide comment back at her ("I think you've been inhaling too many autopsy fluids"). When Castle had called her out on being jealous of Shaw during the Dunn case, she made it clear that she was no jealous… just embarrassed.
And then she had proceeded to spill her guts over the fact that she hated that he was building theory with her.
Verbally, Kate Beckett was terrible at lying.
Inwardly, she had been lying to herself for three years.
Lanie had no idea about their fight, so it seemed, and if Kate was going to find a way to make herself feel better about what had happened, she needed to be open and truthful. And the words leaked out before she had a chance to control it.
"We had a fight. About the files he sent Montgomery…"
Lanie interrupted with an awkward smile and a blush.
"I know. Javi told me that you two seemed a little off."
Kate's eyebrow quirked upward, and she shot Lanie a knowing look.
She rolled he eyes in response.
"I mean, Detective Esposito told me."
Kate grinned and knew that in the coming days, she would definitely have to grill Lanie about the sordid details of her relationship with Esposito.
A short silence followed as Lanie regained her composure, and Kate's mind jumped back to the day's events. She sighed.
"I just couldn't imagine how I would live with myself if something had happened to him today… you know? Trying to save me."
"Well have you talked about it?"
Kate shook her head and mumbled, "I've just been thinking about it a lot lately."
More silence.
Her thoughts ran back to their fight. He called her out on everything. The kiss. The freezer. She remembered L.A. and everything he had told her. How he hadn't left her no matter how hard she tried to get rid of him. How she continuously amazed him. She thought of Conrad. How he wanted her all to himself. Her brain was dancing between all those memories until she could barely see straight. And then the montage suddenly faded when she squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hands over her face.
If only. If only. If only.
Royce's words started to play over and over again in her mind. She couldn't hide from it. He was going to be everywhere she went until she gave in. She had admitted it to herself. She wanted him. She needed him. But she hadn't acted on it.
Lanie's kind voice mercifully brought her introspection to a screeching halt.
"Baby, you need to go talk to him and see what the rest of us see. Honestly. He risked his life for you today. You've saved each other how many times now? And if you can look at me with a straight face with your hand on a stack of Bibles and say that you aren't in love with Richard Castle, then you definitely need to get that pretty little head of yours checked out."
Kate simply stared back at her and pursed her lips.
If only. If only. If only.
Damn it.
"I gotta go."
Lanie gave her friend a knowing look, smiled brightly, and nodded.
"Good luck, Kate."
Sorry. I have never broken a wrist or any bone in my body, so all information was stolen from various medical websites. So if I got it wrong.. whoops.
I tried to make it up to you guys with a long chapter- this puppy is a little over 3,200 words. I really hoped it was satisfactory. I would love to hear your feedback in the reviews!
Because.. I love reviews almost as much as I love Stana Katic. That's a lot.