Florida Heat

A Castle Fan Fiction Story

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle; ABC and Andrew Marlowe do. But even if I did, I wouldn't change a thing, because, after all, there IS nothing sexier than swordplay. ;)

A/N: I understand that chapter one may be a little confusing, but stick with it and trust me everything will be explained in time. Feedback (good and constructive) is more than welcome- I look forward to hearing what you think. :)

Chapter 1

The first thing she saw when she awoke was a rainbow of color dancing in a blinding white light. There was a damp, cold surface beneath her aching body and her hand felt like it was on fire as she attempted to bring it up to rub her pounding forehead. Her fingers were stiff and they were covered by small burning bumps. She involuntarily let out a whimper as she attempted to bend her inflamed knuckles. Her eyes snapped back shut, overwhelmed by the stabbing pain and dancing lights. The only thought she could comprehend was that something was terribly wrong as the burning began to travel up her arm.

She forced her eyes back open as the burning sensation working its way across her body became too much to bare. Her eyelids felt like sand paper and she could feel welts beginning to form on them. Something was crawling over her face and she reached her aching hands up to brush it off, feeling tiny bumps forming as she did. A strangled scream left her throat as her eyes finally focused on the army of fire ants swarming over her body, and her body vaulted off of the ground seemingly of its own accord as adrenaline pumped through her. The pain she had been feeling a moment ago was suddenly gone as she scrambled to slap the small biting creatures off of her red inflamed skin. In a fluid motion she pulled her shirt over her head and wiggled out of her pants to finish brushing the ants off of her. Flipping her head over she ran her hands through her hair wildly.

Once she was sure there were no insects left on her body she flipped her head back up and slowly turned in a circle to take in her surroundings as her breathing returned to normal and the steady ache and burning pain returned to her body. She was on the side of a road and the sun beating down on her skin was overwhelming. She could see the waves of heat radiating off of the faded pavement and forced herself to squint into the distance; there were no cars in either direction as far as she could see. Glancing back down at the road she noted the lack of lines and the oversized potholes that connected the cracks in the surface. Not many people had been traveling this route. Her hand reached up to idly itch one of the bumps that dotted her stomach and realized that she was still holding her clothing, or what was left of it in her other hand.

Looking at the scraps of fabric, she questioned how useful they really would be, but any protection against the pounding sun would be better than nothing. Looking down she took inventory of her body as she slowly pulled her clothing back on; her feet were bare and had a layer of mud caked over an assortment of cuts and bruises, her legs were painted with black, blue, purple, green and yellow welts and her entire body was peppered with small red and white pustules from the fire ants. She probably looked like hell. The shirt was torn from the neck, leaving her left breast exposed after she pulled in on, and the jeans were torn down the side of the hip on her right side forcing her to hold the fabric together with her right hand.

As the final traces of adrenaline left her system she could feel her knees begin to give out from pain. She turned in another circle, forcing her legs to hold her up while she attempted to make a plan. Which way to go? She was standing in a shallow ditch, facing a dense line of trees and shrubbery. She could faintly see a fence passing through the brush, but something in the mind screamed at her to stay away from the single sign of life in the seemingly deserted area. Bad, was the only conscious thought that made its way to her brain. She shouldn't go that way. She glanced down at her torn pants and the scratches on her palms; chances are she had already climbed that fence once. She used her free hand to shade her aching eyes as she continued to turn and glanced both ways down the vacant road. With a sigh she began to walk.

It hadn't been a choice of which way to go- left or right- her body had merely began to stumble in a direction, her bruised and broken feet moving by shear will power and a want to get away from that fence. Her right hand throbbed as it remained clutched at her side but she doubted she could straighten out her fingers even if she wanted too. Her mouth was gummy as she worked her dry tongue out to moisten her cracked lips. She could feel the hot humid air filling her throat and coating her lungs as she gasped for breath and the world began to spin around her. Her next step stumbled and she could feel the ground moving closer and closer before the world, once again, went black.

Lights. More lights. Unrelenting, florescent lights that made her eyeballs want to pop straight out of her head. She shut her eyes again, tightly, in an attempt to keep her eyes where they were. The throbbing in her head turned into a pulsing in her ears as the pain radiated throughout her skull. She tried to call out, to make them take the lights away, but her tongue was stuck to the sand paper in her mouth.

"Shh, miss, its okay, try to stay calm. You are safe now; you are in a hospital. Try to nod if you can understand me."

Stay calm? Nod? How was she supposed to do either of those things with the sound and light show going on in her brain?

"Miss? Miss, can you hear me?"

He wasn't going to shut up until she said something, was he?

Slowly she forced her eyes back open and attempted to blink away the pain. Where was she? He had said something she was supposed to do. She tried to bring her hand up to her face, why did it feel so stiff? She couldn't bend her elbow or her wrist. What the hell? What was going on? Where was she? A tear slipped from her left eye and left a wet trail down her temple before it dropped to the soft pillow under her head.

"Miss? Miss, I need you to nod if you can understand me."

The voice was persistent, and she forced her eyes to focus on the form standing next to her. He was saying something.

"Nod if you can hear me."

Oh, okay, nod. She could do that. She forced her head to move up and down and winced at the pain. That bastard, didn't he understand that it hurt.

She moaned as he smiled in relief, but forced herself to listen as he continued to talk. Dr. Collins. Hospital. Arms wrapped. Infected bites. Okay.

Her eyes burned and she let them drop closed again as someone wiggled a straw between her lips and told her to drink. She sucked some of the ice water into her mouth and coughed as it hit her throat. Assholes.

Her throat and lungs screamed as she continued to cough and attempted to talk for the first time. She wanted to tell them to leave her alone, to stop torturing her; making her nod her head and drink water. She wanted to cuss them out. All she was able to manage was a sputtering moan. Finally forcing words out, it felt like she was yelling, but barely a strangled whisper made it past her lips.

"What," She forced past the raw skin lining her throat. "What happened?"

The doctor and nurse exchanged a glance somewhere between pity and worry. "We were hoping you could tell us. A farmer found you along the side of a back road and called 911," the nurse said softly and slowly, like she was talking to a frightened child.

Her brain, which had been sluggish a moment ago, suddenly shifted into overdrive. Where was she? What had happened? How long had she been gone? Ants, she remembered thousands of tiny little devil ants. She remembered the burning and the cuts on her palm, and the bad fence. She remembered the hot breeze blowing through her tattered clothing. She remembered a damp dark room with a single flimsy mattress that smelled like mold. She remembered yelling and pain.

She felt the anxiety swelling in her chest and the beeping on the monitor started to go faster as her breaths began to get shorter. She remembered blue eyes that were smiling and crinkled at the corners. She remembered brown hair and an impish grin. Him, she remembered him. They had to call him. He would make everything better. The beeping on the monitor began to slow and her breathing began to even out.

"I need you to call him," she wheezed out. "He'll make everything better."

The doctor and nurse exchanged a confused glance as the woman stared past them at the far wall. The nurse reached out to stroke her hair in an attempt to calm the shaken woman.

"Who do you want us to call?" She asked quietly.

"He will make everything better, he needs to be here."

The doctor took in a breath, "Is the man you want us to call the same man that hurt you?"

What?

"What?"

"Is your husband, boyfriend, the man you want us to call; is he the same man that hurt you?"

She could feel the anger bubbling inside her as she pinned the doctor down with a glare.

"Of course not," she replied through clenched teeth, her brain finally catching up to the conversation. He would never hurt her, how could they even think that? "He would never hurt me, I would never even let him get close if he wanted to."

"Okay," The doctor sighed again, bringing a hand up to rub his brow. "What is his name?"

The woman looked at him, squinted and flickered her eyes from the doctor's face to look at the far wall her forehead scrunched in concentration.

"I, um, I don't remember," It was not a statement as much as it was a question.

Oh, God, she couldn't remember.