Eight
"This is Detective Kate Beckett requesting emergency response!" Her voice was breathless and frantic. Her hands, slick with sticky crimson, could barely grip onto the radio. A fresh tremor of terror shot through her as she watched the body of the man before her shudder into shock. "We have an officer down; I repeat we have an officer down!"
Six Hours Earlier
The day began as ordinary as any other. Better than ordinary as far as Richard Castle was concerned. That day, he had the noon-to-midnight shift. It was certainly far from his favorite but it came with two main benefits. First, he did not have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Second, it afforded him the opportunity of eating breakfast with his daughter.
That morning she was particular chatty, excited about getting to see her grandmother after school. Due to his shift, Castle needed someone to meet his daughter when she came home, feed her dinner, and make sure she completed her homework (though the last one was the least necessary of the three, as he had never once in her twelve years had to remind her to do her homework.) Typically, this task fell onto one of the several babysitters he kept on his rolodex. That night, however, fresh off yet another failed play, his mother had agreed to the task. Since her rate was significantly cheaper (namely: free), he agreed easily.
After sending her off to school excited for her spelling test (how she ever got that in her DNA, he would never know), Castle ran to the corner bodega to pick up groceries for that night's dinner. He made his way to the precinct just before eleven to get his workout in before his shift started. Promptly at noon, he arrived at his desk and greeted his partner with a hello. She echoed his sentiments.
Nearly a month had passed since they declared their truce and things were almost back to normal between them. They were, as Castle liked to think of it, their new, post-kiss normal. They still argued, but had yet to have a knock-down-drag-out like they had the day of Montgomery's scolding. They still finished each other's sentences. They still interrogated in an uncanny, dance-like manner. But things had still changed.
Now, every look, every innocent brush of their hands together was fraught with double-meaning. Did she mean to touch his arm in the car? Oh, no; she was just reaching for her coffee cup. Did he mean to lean in closer to her as they stood by the murder board so he could smell the cherry-vanilla scent in her hair? Of course not. (Except absolutely yes.)
Castle hoped that after another month went by they would be able to look back and laugh about it. Well, maybe not laugh about it, but smile, roll their eyes and know they were better off. Partners; just partners.
By mid-afternoon Castle had finished all the paperwork from the prior day's arrest and was contemplating some sort of snack when he received a call from McCreary requesting backup on an arrest he and his partner, Anderson, were making. Castle challenged Kate to rock-paper-scissors for driving rights; he lost and fifteen minutes later they were on their way towards southern Manhattan.
It was during their drive that they heard the call on the radio. All available units were requested to respond to the exact address McCreary had dispatched them to. "What the hell is going on?" Castle asked his partner rhetorically. She shrugged and stepped on the gas a bit harder.
On the corner of a non-descript street near Battery Park, pandemonium ran rampant. Three cruisers plus Anderson and McCreary's detective car formed a barrier between the street and a building, which housed suspects who evidently possessed an armory larger than some small nations. Castle and Beckett pulled on their vests and joined their fellow detectives from the twelfth in the firefight. They didn't even get a chance to ask what was going on; they simply had to join in and attempt to end the shooting.
Kate wedged herself in the V formed between the open driver's door and the windshield of a cruiser while Anderson, the taller of the two, gauntleted his fists together atop the roof of the navy blue sedan. Though it felt like hours, she knew probably only a few minutes had passed before she emptied her clip and needed to refill. With so many officers firing, she felt she could take a few minutes to observe what she could and be a little more conservative with her bullets. She searched the boarded up windows and openings to the building in front of them until she spotted movement. Training her gaze, she put three succinct shots into the gap. As the enemy fire seemed to lessen, she felt she had dropped one of the suspects.
Just as she began searching for her next target, Kate heard a sickening series of sounds from behind her: a squish, a slap, and a gurgle. Dropping into a crouch, she turned around to see Anderson stumbling backwards, his left hand pressed to his neck, crimson fluid flowing between his digits.
"No," Kate uttered a strangled gasp of horror. She dropped her weapon and duck-walked towards him, clamping her hand down overtop his. "Officer down! Officer down!" she shouted, though her voice wasn't heard above the sound of gunfire.
"You're going to be okay, John," she assured him. He stared up at her, his eyes wide and full of terror. "You're going to be okay, just take slow, deep breaths."
Kate looked down and noticed she could no longer see the contrast of her pale skin against his dark; both their flesh was almost completely obscured by blood. "Keep the pressure on, okay? Keep the pressure. I just need to…"
She turned and dove into the squad car, keeping low to conceal herself from the bullets coming through the now shattered windshield. She grasped for the radio, but it fell from her hand. On the second try, she got it and held the transmitter to her lips.
"This is Detective Kate Beckett requesting emergency response!" Her voice was breathless and frantic. Her hands, slick with sticky crimson, could barely grip onto the radio. A fresh tremor of terror shot through her as she watched the body of the man before her shudder into shock. "We have an officer down; I repeat we have an officer down!"
Tossing the radio across the car, Kate returned to Anderson's side. She clamped her hand tightly around the wound, but it didn't matter; she couldn't help him. His body trembled and jerked and his eyes rolled back into his head. He managed a few more rattling breaths before going completely still.
When she felt his pulse disappear from beneath her fingertips, a single tear escaped Kate's eye. She had watched others die before, though all of them had been suspects; none had been a fellow officer. Another horrifying first for her was actually feeling the life bleed out of someone; it was a feeling she hoped never to repeat.
Though she knew it was fruitless, Kate's hand remained on Anderson's neck wound for several moments. Soon, the shooting died down, but she didn't take much notice; she couldn't take her eyes off the now placid body of her long-time colleague. It was only the voice of her partner that managed to rouse her.
"Beckett? Beckett! Kate!"
"Here," she called out hoarsely, letting her hand slide off the body as she stood slowly. Above the top of the car she saw her partner hurrying to her. When he rounded the back corner of the vehicle horror exploded across his face.
"Oh god Kate…the blood! What-"
"'s not mine," she told him with a sniff.
At her words, he turned his eyes towards the ground and took a step back. "Anderson, oh god is he-"
"He's gone," she confirmed with a nod.
"What's going—holy shit," McCreary proclaimed when he saw the scene on the other side of his cruiser. "What the fuck happened?"
"He was shot, you idiot!" she spat at him. "What the hell were you guys doing here? What was going on?"
"They…they ambushed us. We had no idea they'd be armed. I mean, we thought that-"
"Well you were wrong," Kate spat at the younger detective.
"Okay, Kate; okay. C'mon." Castle reached out his hand and grabbed onto her sleeve. He gently guided her around Anderson's body and back towards their vehicle. By the time they arrived, her whole body was shaking. He sat her down on the passenger side of the car and crouched down so he could look at her face. "Are you okay Kate? I mean, are you injured?"
She shook her head as a few more tears spilled. She instinctually brought her right hand up to brush them away, but then recoiled in horror when she discovered the maroon encrusted substance. Castle stepped in and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. "Just sit here, okay?" he told her gently. "I'm going to get you cleaned up."
Castle had never lost a colleague in the line of duty before. He'd heard of cops dying, of course; there was a wall memorializing them at every precinct, but no on-duty officer had died at the ninth during his tenure there. Thus, when they returned to the homicide floor of the twelfth, he wasn't sure how to act.
Traditionally, in times of stress, humor became his coping mechanism, but he understood that in certain situations most people found humor offensive. Death of a coworker was one of those situations. Thus, he busied himself by writing up an incident report and tending to his partner, who hadn't spoken a word since the incident.
The day progressed with a somber cloud above it. Shortly after five, Castle offered to go and get Kate something to eat for dinner, but she refused; saying she wasn't hungry. Refusing to let her starve, he retrieved her favorite granola bar from the vending machine and put it in front of her with a bottle of water.
As they had been involved in the shooting, Montgomery relieved them both from the rest of their shift at six p.m., telling them to go home, get some rest, and come back the next day. Several of the men, McCreary included, decided to go to Brady's and toast a drink in Anderson's honor. The bar was, after all, the late man's favorite. Castle decided to tag along and, much to his surprise, Beckett did as well, though she did so silently.
At the bar, most men ordered beers and wings. Castle managed to talk his partner into sharing an order of mild ones. She ate three before giving up, but he considered that a win; at least she'd eaten a little bit.
The men continued to toast their fallen comrade, trading stories about great arrests he'd made or funny things he'd done. In truth, Castle enjoyed the celebration; he could only hope that one day he would receive similar treatment. However, as the eight o'clock hour neared he could tell his partner was over the event.
"C'mon," he said, nudging her arm with his elbow. "I'll walk you home."
They made the three block trek silently. When she unlocked the door into her apartment building's lobby, he followed her inside, not really sure what he was doing, but not wanting her to be alone. Hell, after everything, he didn't want to be alone. True, his mother and daughter were at his apartment, but he didn't want to face them yet. He couldn't worry Alexis by telling her a detective had died in the line of duty and he knew his mother wasn't exactly a fan of the dangerous aspect of his job. Even if they could accept that, they could never understand what it was like; not the way she could.
When she still hadn't spoken by the time they arrived at the door to her actual apartment, he asked her gently, "Are you okay?"
She gave him a look over her shoulder that clear indicated she and "okay" weren't even in the same galaxy.
"Yeah, I know but…do you want to talk about it?"
"No. Yeah. I don't know."
She unlocked her apartment, dropped her keys onto the table nearest the door and kicked off her shoes. She turned to face him just as he shut the door behind them. "It's just…I know the risks with what we do. I get it, I really do. We face dangerous situations every day. But you don't think…you figure hey, I did everything right today. I followed safety protocols. I wore my vest, I called for backup; I'll be fine. But…Anderson had backup. He had his vest on, but that didn't matter."
She shook her head bitterly. "He was shot, and he died and…and he…he was standing r-right be-beside m-me."
"Hey, hey," Castle sighed as her body was overtaken by sobs. He stepped forward and gathered her up in his arms. He pulled her face into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. "It's okay, Kate; you're okay."
She slid her arms around him until her hands met behind his back. She grasped both wrists and pulled her body in line with his. Normally, tears would make her run and hide, shy away from anyone who could see her weakness, but with him she didn't care. She felt better with his arms around her, so she stayed and clung to him tighter as he whispered gentle things to her.
Castle's hands skimmed across her back for the better part of five minutes before her sobs quieted. When her breathing became more even, she lifted her head so that her chin landed in the crook of his neck and she could give him a proper hug. As she pulled her head back their cheeks brushed together and she stalled; they were close, so very close.
Slowly, testing the waters, she pressed her lips against his jaw, feeling the stubble of his beard beginning to return. She moved her head back another inch and pressed her lips against the center of his cheek. Then, with another inch, the corner of his mouth.
She could feel his breath, hot against her lips. His fingertips, curled tightly in the center of her back. His nose brushing against hers. She wanted him. So much. Much more than she ever thought she could.
Her hand sliding up to rest on his shoulders, she pressed her mouth against his. He didn't pull away. Instead, he drew her in—all the way in.
They had been here before—literally in almost that exact spot, but this time was different. Neither was intoxicated; they were both fully aware of what they were doing. In that moment they weren't partners. They weren't coworkers. They were two grieving people seeking comfort, together.
Castle brought his hands up to skim beneath her jaw as their kiss deepened. His mouth was hard and wet against hers and she couldn't get enough. She wanted to feel his lips on her throat, her breasts—every inch of her skin.
Her hand still atop his shoulders, she turned him a hundred and eighty degrees so she could guide the way back to her bedroom. They bumped into a table and the edge of her sofa, but neither seemed to notice; they were far too occupied with each other's lips.
By the time they crossed the threshold of her bedroom both their shirts were half unbuttoned. Kate flicked on the light switch by the door on instinct and pushed Castle into the room. He stumbled at the force of her move and caught the edge of the bed to right himself. Locking eyes with her, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Then, he reached out and did the same with hers.
When she stood in just her bra, the smile she gave him was almost shy; he loved it. She reached out behind her and turned the light off. Not a moment later he stepped around her and flicked the light back on. She eyed him curiously, but his gaze remained steady.
Oh. He wanted the light on. Well, she was okay with that.
After giving him an imperceptible nod, Kate reached out and grabbed his t-shirt, dragging him into her. Their lips collided just a moment before they tumbled on to the bed—together.
A/N: Well, after that-ahem-climax I'm going to make you guys wait an extra day for the update - Sunday, May 10th. I will be at comic con on Saturday, though sadly Nathan Fillion just canceled his appearance there, but that's ok-there are others I want to see.