Dark story alert! This is a very different kind of scene for me to write so please be kind. And I promise to move onto lighter stuff again, like ASAP!
This is three Tumblr prompts in one story. I'll put the prompts at the end because *spoilers* and even though this is just a short one I still don't want to give it away, you know? haha.
RATED M FOR MUUURDEERRRRR! And torture. This scene is a very bad time for our favourites.
Before we get started, meet Thorne; a good guy with a *fractured* heart of gold and an affinity for gambling. His luck went south and the wrong people bailed him out; now, they own him. Scared for his family's safety, he becomes his own worst nightmare. (yes, I did create a whole ass backstory for him that is not at all addressed in this scene!) The thing to keep in mind is that he really has no idea what he's doing, he just wants to go home to his wife and kids and that is why he's really not that great at this. (also because I googled 'how to torture someone' but was too scared to click on any of the websites out of fear of ending up on some sort of watch list haha)
I didn't really have a time frame in mind while I wrote this so you can slot it in wherever you think it would fit best. However, since re-reading (for my rushed version of 'editing' it) I'm just really getting season 4, pre-Caskett vibes, ya know? It's very "that's the love of my life, we just don't acknowledge that right now". Like... what a moment. IDK, I'll stop rambling now, you'll *hopefully* see what I mean once you read it.
I feel like I've given you plenty of time to decide whether or not you want to continue so don't say you weren't warned if you're particularly sensitive to this kind of thing (it's really not that bad but you know what I'm like with my warnings, guys).
Anyways, enjoy.
Battlefield.
There was an absence of familiarity, an absence of city; no streetlights or traffic noise polluting the air, just deafening silence and the soft glow of moonlight that cast ominous shadows and made trees look like monsters.
Blood dripped from her brow; blazed a path down the side of her face, warm and wet as it mingled with her tears.
The steady thud of her heart in perfect sync with the pain that pounded through her head. Rope that bound her wrists burned with each slight movement that caused friction against her skin.
The man in front of her was not a career criminal. Not a trained killer nor a psychopath with no humanity. Just a man who had found himself in far too deep with the wrong kind of people. Castle had tried to reach out to the man, to appeal to the good that he once was, that they all knew was still there somewhere. He had pleaded endlessly with Thorne: you don't have to kill us, we can help you. But the man was too far gone, too filled with fear. Her name and a regretful apology were the last words on Castle's lips as Thorne put a bullet in him.
Thorne grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and led her away before she could see if Castle had survived the shot. Her chest burned with each laboured breath she drew in as he dragged her deeper into the woodland. When they cleared the thick shrubbery and entered a clearing, he pushed her to her knees and held his gun to the back of her head.
"I'm sorry about your friend," Thorne told her, his voice hushed and shaky. "I really am."
"Why'd you bring me out here? Why not just kill me in there with him?"
"Because I'm not going to kill you, yet." The press of metal against her skull eased as Thorne walked to stand in front of her. "You have information that I need."
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know anything."
She could see by the look on his face, that wasn't the answer he needed.
"Detective, please don't make this harder than it has to be," he begged. "I brought you out here so that you didn't have to watch your friend die."
She closed her eyes. If she could just focus her mind on anything but the pain - so intense as it seared through every part of her - maybe she could find a way out of this, find a way to get back to Castle. But the pin prickling sensation behind her eyes, the throbbing headache, the fatigue that burned in her legs and pulled in her ribcage - it was all too much.
She had nothing left to give; no arsenal in which to fight with. And certainly no information to give him.
"I'm really not a very good shot, so he's probably bleeding out very slowly," he taunted her, switching up tactics to use the only thing he had for leverage. "Tell me what you know and I might even be able to save him."
She hung her head low as the tears she could no longer hold back washed over her face. The thought of Castle in pain and bleeding out slowly made her stomach turn.
Thorne stepped closer, invading her space until his face was just inches from hers. Thick fingers tangled in the hair at the back of her head and her eyes shot open as he pulled roughly, forcing her to face him.
"Do you want him to die?" he yelled.
"You're not gonna to let him live," she whispered through her tears.
Even if Castle was still alive, she knew better than to believe Thorne would do anything to save him.
He had his orders to carry out; neither of them were getting out of here alive.
Thorne nodded slowly, his own emotions rising dangerously.
"You're right," he admitted, softening his voice. "But right now, he's in a lot of pain. Tell me what you know and I promise I'll put him out of his misery."
"I told you, I don't know anything," she pleaded, have mercy.
Using the grip he had on her hair, he pushed her to the ground.
"I don't want to do this!" Thorne screamed as he kicked the dirt between them.
Dust shrouded her face as the assault of grit and gravel mottled her skin. She opened her eyes just in time to see Thorne holster his gun.
"On your knees," he ordered.
She made no attempt to move; too weary and weak.
Thorne grabbed her hair again. "I said on your knees!"
Her body obeyed, if only to ease the splitting pain that radiated from her skull.
"You leave me no choice."
He released her, took a step back and reached behind his back to pull something from under his jacket. When he slowly brought his hand back to his side, he was holding a large hunting knife.
Fear sparked in every nerve ending; tingling down her spine and stuttering in her breath.
"You don't have to go through this," he told her. "Save yourself the torment of a slow death."
She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. Did he really think that she was going to ease his guilty conscience?
He rushed closer to her and grabbed her chin, squeezing his fingers and thumb on either side of her jaw. He pressed the sharp edge of the knife to her cheek and her body stiffened. She knew that with just the slightest movement the knife would slice deep into her flesh.
"Please?" he whispered his plea once more.
She focussed on steadying the shake of each breath as the sting of metal scratching through the first layers of skin brought even more tears to her eyes.
This wasn't how it was going to end; it couldn't be. She wouldn't let it be.
"Kate!" She heard Castle's voice echo through the trees.
Thorne turned in search of the man he thought he had left for dead.
Adrenaline coursed through Kate's veins and she seized the opportunity that arose, pulling herself to her feet. Thorne turned back and lunged forward, blade first. Kate side-stepped, using the rope that bound her wrists to her full advantage, capturing and securing his forearm. She used his weight against him as she pulled him forward and thrust her knee into his gut.
With a pained groan, he dropped to his knees and she was able to pull the knife from his hands.
She stumbled backward just a few short steps as she tried to orient herself; her head spinning from exertion. Her eyes began to blur as dark spots danced in her periphery and the world around her began to spin. She blinked rapidly and tried to focus her eyes on the man in front of her as he rose to his feet. She watched as he reached into his jacket and the memory of gun metal pressed to her skull felt all too real.
She had to act fast.
She mustered the last scraps of energy she had and - as Thorne pulled the weapon from it's holster - threw herself forward and thrust the blade into him. His eyes - wide and dark - locked to hers as she stared, slack-jawed and unable to move.
He dropped the gun and wrapped his hands around hers. They both held the knife as he staggered closer. He pulled the knife from his gut and dropped his hands from hers.
She let out a sharp huff of air, horrified as his dark eyes began to water and lose focus. The knife dropped to the ground with a clink as it hit a stone and she wiped her bloodied hands on her thighs.
He dropped to his knees and she instinctively kicked both weapons away, out of reach, before he fell face first to the ground.
"Kate!"
She tore her eyes away from Thorne's body. Castle emerged from the shadows, hobbling toward her as fast as he could manage.
Just the sight of him was enough to break her completely. She took a shaky breath and began to sob as she moved toward him.
As soon as he was close enough he reached out and cupped her face, careful to avoid the gashes on her cheek and forehead. His eyes scanned her face, taking in every inch, every detail.
She couldn't believe that he was here, that he had made his way back to her.
"You're hurt." Her hands roamed his body - chest, shoulders, torso - in search of the bullet wound she knew was there somewhere.
He winced as her palm pressed to his shoulder. His black shirt was wet to the touch and when she pulled her hand back, it was coated in blood.
"I- I thought-"
Dead. She thought he was dead. That she would never see him again, never hold him close.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, gently touched his face as if to make sure he wasn't a mirage, trailed her fingertips along his jaw.
Her touch lingered, soaking in the warmth that radiated from his body. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to brush her lips to his, to celebrate life and victory with the taste of him, with love and tenderness.
She closed the distance between them, claiming his lips with her own, desperate for connection.
He held his palm to the back of her head, keeping her close as he deepened their kiss.
Their urgency was soothed by the wave of relief that washed over them. Soft and slow, they savoured this moment.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered once she pulled away.
"No," he assured her with the emphatic shake of his head. "Never. I'm right here."
Prompt: kissing on the battlefield. + Dialogue prompt: "I don't want to do this!" + Request: can you write a story where Beckett thinks Castle is dead but he's not?
I shared a prompt list of "places for kissing" and have been sent requests for almost every single one of them! So be ready for lots of Caskett kisses to come. I've already shared 2 on Tumblr (I'll post them right now!) and I have a few more that are almost finished!