Two Casualties

Twenty three missed calls.

Really, she didn't mean for it to get to this point. When she woke up this morning, her body aching in a way it hasn't done for a while, she had stumbled bleary-eyed into the shower. Still feeling the virulent spread of his touch all over her.

She dressed quickly, careful to avoid the mirror. So she wouldn't have to see the bloom of purpling bruises at her hips, her stomach. And then she had messaged him, asked him to stay away from the precinct today. Fobbed him off with some half-hashed excuse that she doesn't want him getting dragged down into this case.

And that's true, it is, she wants him to be safe. But more than that she wants not to have to face what they've done. Not now. Rationally, she knows that she'll have to talk it out with him at some point. But she can't do both, can't juggle her mother's case and her relationship - partnership, something – with Castle. She has to let one of those things drop, and they both know it's not going to be her mother.

Even so, he's been calling her all day. She declines his call again, cutting off the abrasive ring of her phone mid-note. She wants to tug the sleeves of her black turtleneck down over her hands, curl up inside it like armour. Instead, she pushes them up to her elbows and returns her attention to the files spread around her.

There are four other chairs pulled up in a circle around her desk with papers spread out over them, every detail of this case surrounding her. Ryan had made a joke about hoping none of their colleagues felt like sitting down today that no one had laughed at, and everyone had carefully avoided mentioning that Castle's chair is empty. As if some subconscious part of her is still hoping that he'll show up to fill it.

The boys are muttering to each other; she sees them both turn to glance at her. She can't find the energy to care that they think she's falling apart. Can't do anything to convince them otherwise. When they stand up she falters, holding her breath as she waits to see if they're coming to talk to her.

They're not. Instead, they head away from the bullpen and Kate releases a long breath, the relief nearly choking her.

Her phone rings again and Kate rolls her eyes, turning back to fish it out from underneath a file. She half wants to answer it, yell at him to stop calling and that they'll talk when this case is done and can he please just leave her alone?

Only it's not Castle calling. It's her captain.

Carrying the woman he loves out of the aircraft hangar and away from their captain, Rick feels his heart cracking open along the fault lines that settled in the first time he saw Kate cry over her mother's case. Their captain, their mentor, their friend. Roy is martyring himself right in front of them, and betrayal slicks hot and metallic through him like blood, something strange and wrong about it.

Having Kate's body pressed up along the lines of his should be a blessing; instead the grief guts him and it's all he can do to stay standing himself. Rick, please, she chokes, but there's no way he's letting her go. Not to run back in there and get herself killed.

He can't save Roy, can't erase the man's terrible history, but he can do this. Make sure that Montgomery's sacrifice is not for nothing. That Kate lives.

She's sobbing in his arms, her ragged desperation spilling out of her mouth and he begs her, backs her up against her car and pleads with her to be quiet. If the men inside the hangar hear her, they are both dead. He covers her mouth with his hand, wrenches it away again almost immediately because even here, even now he cannot bring himself to gag her.

Smoothing her hair back and out of the salt-slick tears that dive for the precipice of her jaw, he cradles her elbows as she sags against him and does his best to hold her. Both up and together.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry he breathes in a litany and, thank God, it quiets her. The raw, unbridled mix of terror and grief seems to weave its threads between them, binding him to her so closely that he knows if she were to move away it would rip him wide open, leave him vulnerable and exposed.

Her hand is at his cheek as if to make sure he's here and he wants to promise her all kinds of things, wants to say he'll never leave her again if only she'll have him. With every gunshot she jerks against him, her keening like a wounded animal and he pushes closer still, tries to let the warmth of his body bleed some strength into her.

It's okay, it's okay, I'm so sorry.

There's a moment of absolute stillness where Kate leans back against the car as if exhausted, her body trembling in his grip. And then a final shot, and she's breaking away from him to run for the hangar. Rick hesitates a moment, but the further she gets from him the less he can bear it.

No choice but to follow. He finds her bent over the body of their fallen captain, her tears soaking into Roy's shirt to mix with the blood. So much blood, the sharp smell of iron jars Castle and he sinks to his knees at Kate's side, curling his fingers around her shoulder.

She comes willingly, falling into his side and choking out a sob into the crease of his neck. Rick manoeuvres so he can gather as much of her as possible against him, carding his fingers through her hair over and over and pressing his mouth to her temple.

As soon as she catches her breath, she calls it in to the precinct, her voice catching on the phrase officer down. After she hangs up she presses her face into his shirt, her hands fisted at his shoulder blades.

"Kate-" he starts, trailing off as he realises there isn't a single thing he could possibly do to help her. Not right now.

Easing away from her just a little, he tries to get a look at her face and she whimpers, clutching at him harder still. "Please don't let go of me. Castle. Please."

"Okay, okay, I'm not. I won't. I'm here. I got you." He murmurs to her, his chin against the crown of her head. She's so small all of a sudden, curled up in his arms and he wants to get her out of here. Right now. "Let's wait outside. We shouldn't contaminate the scene any more than we already have."

He gets to his feet as slowly as his knees will let him, bringing her up with him and holding her close a moment before he has to let her go. Her fingers are cool and slender in his when he takes her hand and he walks with her out of the hangar, stupidly proud of both of them that they're even able to move.

In the distance, sirens wail and then the sickly red and blue wash of the gumball paints the scene and an officer is getting out of the car and heading towards them. Castle moves as if to step away from her, give her room to do her job and she clutches at his sleeve, glancing at him. "Stay."

"Okay."

It happens fast, and for that he's grateful. Tech process the scene; Ryan and Esposito show up and the four of them stand together and watch the body of their captain as he's zippered away from them and wheeled inside the bus.

And then they're allowed to go home.

Castle drives, not at all surprised that Kate barely reacts when he slides into the driver's side of her car. On the way back to her apartment she keeps her face pressed against the window, watching the hum of the city around them. He wants to reach out, take her hand, but she looks so brittle he's afraid he might break her if he tries.

When they make it inside he takes her jacket, hangs it up with his own. She toes out of her boots and steps into his embrace, the height difference between them palpable when he tucks her underneath his chin as if for safekeeping.

"I think I'm in shock." She murmurs, trembling in his grip. "I don't feel anything."

Gratitude washes over him like a sucking tide and he gasps a breath like drowning against her hair. He's so glad that the numbness has set in for her. He feels cataclysmic, as if his whole world is shifting beneath his feet. "What can I do?"

"Will you kiss me?" She asks him, shifting a half step back from him. Her arms stay looped around his waist and she stares up at him, her skin red and dry with the salt. For a moment, he debates the wisdom of doing this now.

But then, they are both desperate to reaffirm their lives. And God knows he needs her, badly. The woman he loves, and he has never been so grateful to have her near. He doesn't answer her question with words; instead he dips down and kisses her.

It's soft and exploratory and careful and everything yesterday wasn't. Castle licks at the ripeness of her bottom lip, asking for permission and she opens her mouth to him. He gets a hand at the curve of her spine, cradling the back of her head in his other palm, and Kate cups his cheek.

They're both still shaking, but now he's not sure if it's shock or the absolutely astonishing tenderness of her mouth against his. He gentles her with a few soft brushes of his lips over hers, settling his forehead against hers and somehow managing a smile for her.

"Come to bed with me." She says quietly, her eyes closed as though she's already preparing herself for the worst. Not that he thinks it could get much worse. Roy is dead.

He just wants to forget. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please." She bites her lip, her eyes wide and imploring on his and he swallows hard, grabs for her hand. Of course. Of course. She doesn't ever have to plead with him, not for this. He needs it just as much as she does.

Neither of them says anything else and Kate uses his grip on her hand to lead him to her bedroom. It all seems so messed up. He's never been to her bedroom but they've had sex. They're not officially together but he's kissing her every chance he gets. He's in love with her but Montgomery is dead.

Once they make it over the threshold, Kate peels her turtleneck up over her head and tosses it onto the armchair near her bed. Her pants are next and then she stands in front of him in just her underwear, folding her arms over her stomach self-consciously.

It's so markedly different from how this was yesterday, when she was totally bare in front of him and completely confident. Castle tugs his clothes off as quickly as he can and strides towards her in just his underwear, banding an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply.

She lifts up into him, rocking her hips, and he cups her over top of her underwear, groaning at the feeling of the soaked fabric. It's reassuring, too. Knowing that she burns for him just as badly as he does for her.

And yes, he hates that their first time was off the back of the worst fight they've ever had and now this, their second time is going to be tarnished with the loss of their captain. But he needs her too much to make them stop.

"You're beautiful." He breathes against her cheek, skimming the back of his hand up her stomach and around to curve behind her neck.

Kate pushes her mouth to his in retaliation, her tongue hot and quick inside of his mouth and he grunts. When she pulls away, she touches two fingers to the bow of his lips and shakes her head, something close to an apology in her eyes. "Don't. I can't. . .not now."

He understands. She doesn't want endearments, can't possibly deal with the terrifying depth of his emotion right now. So he shuts up, kissing her the way he's always wanted to and unhooking the clasp of her bra to peel it off of her.

She palms him through his underwear and he groans, his hips jerking against hers. Obviously, it feels fucking incredible anyway. But the knowledge that it's Beckett like this with him, that they're finally doing this, is enough to bring him to his knees.

Walking her backward over to the bed, Castle lays her down underneath him and sucks her nipple into his mouth, delighting in the scattering of curses she lets out. Her hands fist in his hair and she yanks him upwards, his body settling in the cradle of her thighs as she kisses him.

"Take these off." She grunts, sliding her fingers inside of his underwear. He groans and struggles his way out of them, tossing them somewhere unseen and coming back to peel her own underwear down the sinful length of her gorgeous legs.

She pushes on his shoulder to roll him away from her and he goes willingly, spreading his palms at her ass when she leans over him. Her mouth blazes a scalding trail across his cheek until she meets his ear and then she's laughing at him, this throaty chuckle that makes him absolutely certain that if she doesn't climb into his lap within the next five seconds then he is going to die.

"Sit up."

He complies easily, leaning against her headboard and bending his knees a little, watching her as she devours him with her eyes. And then she slings a knee across his hips and wraps her fingers around him, sinking down before he even gets a chance to choke out her name.

Somehow, impossibly, being inside her is even better the second time around. She feels incredible, tight and hot and perfect and as she rocks in his lap he wraps his arms around her and holds her as close as he dares. Her forehead is settled in the crease of his neck and he cradles the curve of her skull, thrusting his hips up against hers until she moans and catches his skin between her teeth.

It's so slow, so gentle, and when she comes apart it's long and drawn out and she clenches hard around him, lifting her head to push her mouth to his. She keeps moving for him and he spills into her on a groan, trembling with it.

After they catch their breath, Kate reaches down and yanks the sheets up over them, shoving on him until he lies down and she can drape herself over him. He laughs, craning his neck at a ridiculously awkward angle until he can dust his mouth to her cheek. "Comfortable?"

"I can't believe he's gone, Castle." She breathes, a ripple of tension that he feels as acutely as if it were through his own body. "I can't believe. . ."

"I know."

There's nothing else he could possibly offer her and they both know it. Castle shifts so he can smooth one hand over her bicep, doing his best to gentle her. Roy is gone. But at least, he can't help but think. . .at least they have each other.

At least she's not here alone in her apartment, crying into her pillow as her heart splinters in her chest. At least he's not across town, drowning his sorrows and doing his best to avoid his mother's scrutiny. No, they're together, and there is not a chance in hell that he's letting her go.