you can hear it in the silence

The cold lingers, a phantom chill that sends shudders up her spine, makes her hands quiver even though they're clenched around layers of blankets. They're wrapped around her, draped over her shoulders and folded over her lap, hers fingers curled tightly around them and keeping them at her neck, making sure they still cover her toes.

And she tosses and turns. Exhaustion laps at the edges of her thoughts, but the images of the previous days flash behind her eyes every time she lets them drift shut.

I just want you to know…

Her hands curl tighter around her blankets, drawing them even higher as she shudders again, at the lingering cold, at the memory.

At the words she didn't say. But almost did.

Her eyes close, and then open again when it's back, blue walls and cold fog and his arms wrapped around her, his hand curled tight around her numbing body. The way her body had shaken uncontrollably, locked in his embrace, until the cold was too much and it stopped, and everything stopped.

And she woke up to her boyfriend back from Africa, but her heart begged not for Josh, but for him, for the man who had held her for as long as she could remember, until her world faded to black even as she tried to cling to consciousness. To him.

The cold lingers, but so does his touch, as phantom as the wisps of chilly air that drift across her neck.

She rolls onto her side, curls towards her nightstand, knees drawing up to her chest as she reaches for her phone. Her hands are quivering, fingers clumsy as she clutches at the device and draws it towards her. She fumbles with it, shaking and shaken and so, so stupid.

Because she asked to be alone, but being alone is now the last thing she wants, leaves her free to wallow in memories and think words she shouldn't be thinking about a man she shouldn't be thinking about. She pushed her boyfriend away, asked for a night to recover, alone, but now she's calling him on speaker and hoping she'll be able to hide the chatter of her teeth when she speaks.

But it's not her boyfriend she's calling for comfort in the middle of a cold, lonely night.

"Kate?"

It's Castle.

She sucks in a breath, feels it stutter in her chest as she forces herself to speak. "Did I…wake you?"

He hums, the sound heavy and sad and she knows the answer before he says it. "No." He sighs. "I…couldn't sleep."

It's quiet. It has her grip on her blankets loosening, the tension starting to leave her shoulders, selfish relief joining the guilt that wells in her chest, steals her breath, whatever words she had intended to say. And the silence drags on between them, heavy over the line as her fingers clutch at the phone, still quivering from a freezer she left long ago.

"Kate?" he says again, her name a shaking whisper, laced with worry, "How are you?"

Her chest heaves with a sigh, heavy with everything she can't find the words to say. Everything she knows he could read if he was here, if he could look her in the eyes and see the shaking of her body and her desperate grip on the phone.

On him.

"I can't sleep, either," she says. Because it's the only thing to say, the only thing she trusts herself to say while her heart is racing and her mind is spinning. The day still weighs heavy on her body, but it lifts the cage from around her heart, makes her feel brave, free.

Like she could do something stupid.

His laugh comes through the phone, silences the thoughts that spin endlessly in her brain with its dark rumble, lacking the amusement she wishes she could cling to. The light that usually radiates from him slips through the gaps between her ribs, past the wall around her heart to heal the darkened wounds that make her weak, make her hesitancy blossom into fear.

"Do you want a bedtime story, Beckett?" He asks it like he's teasing, but his voice betrays him, heavy with promise and memories of the day. It's laced with sincerity that makes her heart pound, a promise that if she wanted it, he would provide it, give her whatever her heart desires.

And oh, that desire curls around her heart, weighed by the heaviness of his voice that makes her breath stutter. She knows she could fall asleep to it, the rumble of his voice telling her a story meant for her ears only, a slip into forbidden intimacy that would haunt her dreams, steal her mind until she made it a reality.

But she denies herself, with a pang of loss in her chest and a shake her head that she knows he won't hear, but saves her a few seconds without saying the words. "No, thank you," she whispers. "Just…stay on the line?"

There's a rustle of fabric, a nod. "Of course."

And the silence returns, leaving her alone with her thoughts, her memories, the fading quiver of her muscles and the ghost of a freezer that keeps her chilly and on edge. Leaves her with the knowledge that he can hear her breathe, has his phone pressed against the side of his face or sitting in bed next to him.

Has her in bed next to him, in the most abstract and comforting way. The same way she lets herself cling to him for long minutes, lets herself steal comfort from the steady sound of his breathing. His life.

It curls within her, warming her from the inside out, blowing away the cold and replacing it with that heat that only he can provide. That familiar comfort she clings to on nights when tears burn at her eyes and a ring is clutched between her fingers and all she remembers are long nights with stuttering breath and the scent of alcohol heavy in the room.

The warmth she dreams of on nights when she's nestled in her bed with another man—the wrong man—pressed against her back.

The man she yearns for, even though she shouldn't.

In the silence, the tendrils of desire, of that unspoken feeling that she leaves unnamed for the sake of her own sanity, wrap around her heart, curling loosely around the broken pieces he's managed to put back together. And she knows with startling certainty that's it's only a matter of time before they clamp down around her heart, make wanting him, needing him, become a part of her, a driving force and a source of strength and everything she knows it could be.

In the silence, she knows it's only a matter of time until she can't hold it back.

Her fingers loosen around her phone, the tightness of her muscles dissipating along with the shivers, as she sinks into the blankets, into the silence and lets herself revel in the knowledge that he's on the other end of the line, holding onto her as she holds onto him.

And for a moment, she feels the tendrils tighten in her chest, curl more securely around her heart, and despite the fear that wells in her stomach, that flickers through her mind, she doesn't have the desire to hold them back.

you can feel it on the way home

She clutches the letter in long after she's folded it back up and pinched it between her fingers and tried to forget the words that will haunt her until there's no longer a possibility of them coming true. They're pressed against her thigh, her head pressed back against her seat, neck arched back to let past the sigh that escapes her chest.

The honesty of it all, the truth in the words of a man who hadn't seen her in years before he'd betrayed her, barely knew him, and yet captured them so clearly. He's captured this budding thing between them, but a twinge of doubt stops her from leaning over to smear her lips against his, shatter the possibility of if only becoming a reality.

But she doesn't.

Guilt floods her chest, certainty of what could be weighs heavy on her thoughts, darkens the joyous images that flash in her mind every time she closes her eyes.

Royce knew.

It stutters through her chest, steals her breath as her eyes fall shut and the images return, but she doesn't have the power to push them away. Not as her nails press hard against the paper, trying to cut through it as though that will slash at the words and the fact that they are so truly grounded in reality.

Like it will eliminate the fact that she has something real with one man, one who doesn't even know about how easily he can send her heart racing, but there's another waiting for her back in New York.

Another man who probably knows just as well as Royce does that want she truly wants, who she truly wants is the man sleeping next to her.

And she lets her gaze cut to him, lets herself admire the line of his jaw and the broadness of his chest, the splay of his fingers across his own thigh. Her eyes trace the faded crinkles at the corners of his eyes, smoothed with sleep. His face an image of peace that she wishes she could reach, that would silence the pounding in her chest if it wasn't caused by him.

By her feelings for him.

By the fact that her stomach clenches with longing for him, that hers hand curl into fists against her thighs to keep her from reaching for him and letting herself nestle her body against his. Let herself feel the warmth she's desired for weeks, the band of his arm around her and the press of his chest to her face. Let herself hear the beating of his heart, allow the steadiness of it to calm the erratic race of her own.

Her fingers clench tighter around the page, until the small rectangle is distorted by her grip and she has to look away from him to keep herself from doing something stupid.

From hurting the man waiting in New York. The one that she can hurt but doesn't have enough of her heart to have the same power.

And it escapes her on a stutter, a broken breath that gets carried away and lost in the sound on the plane, but burns in her chest even after it's gone. The knowledge that she has all this power. Over Josh, over Castle, over herself, and all she's using it for is to hurt one man, deny another the wishes she so clearly sees in his eyes, and hold herself back from the one thing that has the power to make her happy, to make her shine.

In that way she only sees reflected back at her in Castle's eyes, bright and beautiful and like nothing she's ever seen in her own reflection.

Another one of those things that makes her heart clench and her chest grow warm with blossoms of affection that are blooming without her permission, growing into something she's not sure she has the power to hold back.

But for the flight, she does. She clutches the piece of paper in her hand, ignoring the way Royce's words are echoed in the unsteady beat of her heart. And lets herself sneak one last glance at the man sitting next to her, allows herself to wish that she could just reach over and give into the yearning that she's tampered down for so long.

That she must keep tampering down. For her sake, and for his.

So she turns away. Forces herself to twist in her seat and stare out the window, at the sea of clouds below and the endless blue above. And she pretends that, with all the power she does hold, part of it can quell the ache for him that lingers in her chest.

The spark of affection…of that word she dare not speak, nor think, that lights in her chest and risks lighting a fire she'll never be able to extinguish.

you can see it with the lights out

It burns, ripping through her chest light wildfire and she can barely process it. Can barely wrap her mind around the fact that there's a bullet in her chest. Ripping through her. She can barely…can't…can't…

"Kate."

It's a breath, has her eyes snapping open, the pain spreading across her body fading just for a moment. Just as her eyes lock on him. On the pain in his eyes. The regret. The…the love.

Her arms curl upwards. Muscles tensing from the pain that makes tears spring to her eyes and her throat constrict. And his eyes are locked on her face, his hands curled around her body, her arms, fingers drifting and gripping and tightening around her as he holds her there, holds her with him.

Holds her eyes with his. Bright and shining with fear. With love.

Her lips part, her breath a painful stutter that sends her head spinning, the world spinning around her, around them. The fear laces up her spine, catches the painful beat of her heart, makes it skip and stop and stutter and ache. The tears well, clouding her vision, stealing her breath in the worst of ways.

She almost coughs. But she can't. Her lips stay parted around silent, shallow breaths, and he keeps staring at her, shushing her even though she can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.

Can't.

"Kate. Stay with me, Kate," he says, just loud enough for her to catch it. Despite everything, she catches it. Holds onto it and forces her eyes open.

Tears roll down her temples because she can't muster the energy, the strength, to hold them back. Tears of fear, of sadness and pain and regret, and she tries to reach for him. She tries, but her arms are shaking and weak and her head is spinning, her world off kilter. Held steady by him and him alone.

And she blinks, focuses her gaze just enough to see the well of tears in his eyes for a split second. To see the pain spread across his face before it disappears into a blur again. Until her vision is going black around the edges and she can't see straight and she wants to reach for him but she's trapped in a body that's giving out. Bleeding out.

"Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay?" he begs.

She cries more. For him, for herself, from everything between them that will never be, because she tried to keeps these feelings at bay, forced them back to avoid the pain but this…this is worse than she imagined.

This is–

"Kate, I love you."

Her breath catches, stills. Her already tense body going frozen and her heart leaping even though it hurts. Even though all she can think of is all the times she almost said the words but didn't. All the times she would have said the words but won't.

"I love you, Kate."

And she's dying. She knows it now. Feels the pain fading along with the world, the black edges of her vision growing. The world fading. Her mind drifting. Her body going limp.

She's dying.

But she smiles. Can't help it. Not when she can't see the pain etched across his face or the terror in his eyes and all she hears are his words echoing in her ears. And the rest of her is failing, sinking into the grass that's stained with her blood and her mind is going blank and all she can grasp is the echo of his words.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

And her hands try to reach for him, try to reassure him without words. But they go limp instead, her fingertips numb and her palms tingling and her elbows giving out and her hands fall even as his tighten around her, try to hold her there with him even as she's fading…drifting…

I love you.

The world goes dark. The blurred image of his face disappears. But the words linger, echo in her mind until she's sinking, into the grass, into the dark.

Into her death.

She coughs out a breath. A stutter that makes no sound and he shushes her again, holding her close and trying to keep her with him even though they both know she's dying. She knows. He must know. He must.

Because her eyes fall shut and her body gives out and her mind is left racing, acutely aware and yet caught on one thing. A memory. A sentence. A handful of words.

I love you.

She can't see a thing, couldn't if she tried. But behind her eyes lingers images of his face, his smile, that light she clings to in her darkest moments. In the darkness. In her death.

And that affection she worked so hard to keep at bay, the love she fought so hard to hide, to pretend didn't exist even though it blossomed and bloomed in her chest no matter what she did. Now, as blood seeps from her bullet wound, that love seeps it through the hole in her heart. It curls around her and tumbles from her lips on a final stuttering breath, silent but echoing loudly in her head.

It keeps her warm as the world goes black and silent and her body goes numb. Until she dies with two voices in her head, saying the same words and making the same promise and trapped in the limbo between something and nothing as she gets trapped between life and death.

Because his hands are the last thing she feels. And his eyes are the last thing she sees. And his words are the last thing she hears.

And then there's nothing at all.

you are in love

She waits a year. Spends twelve long months with a stuttering heart and butterflies in her stomach and words on the tip of her tongue. A year later, and nausea churns in her stomach, burns up her throat as she sways back and forth, hands clutched around cold metal chains that remind her so much of the ones she'd locked around her heart so many years before.

The ones he's torn away, leaving her bare and vulnerable and free, open to pain and wounds. It floods her chest, seeps heavy into her breath as the rain pours down around her, on her and drips down her face, camouflages her tears.

And her breath comes in pants, in sobs, ripped from her throat like she words she never spoke. The ones that have wrapped around her heart, strengthened and healed it, and almost tumbled from her lips more times than she can remember.

At his tears. At his smiles. At the love in his eyes when he looks at her.

I love you.

It wells, burns, aches. The feeling so big, so strong, that it steals her breath and leaves her gasping and stilling on the swing, her heels digging into the ground beneath her feet. Has her forcing them to escape because she can't swallow them back anymore, even though he isn't here to hear them.

"I love you."

It's heavy on her tongue, but light in the air. Caught in a raindrop and carried away with the wind, lost in the rumble of the downpour but ringing loudly in her ears. Echoing over and over again in the steady beat of her heart, the certainty that has her standing on shaky legs and pushing herself forward. Towards him.

The bruises are starting to ache. Injuries surely turning black and blue beneath the drenched layers of fabric that cover them. Her fingers are still weak for holding onto the roof for so long. She's cold from the rain, and yet warmth blooms in her chest.

And her steps are strong, powered by the certainty that drives her forward, stops the quivering of her hands. The breaths that should escape erratic and shaky come out heavy and sure, lifted with words she has to tell him.

He hates her. He loves her and he hates her because he doesn't see how much she loves him. How much she wants him. How much she needs him.

He doesn't know that he's become one of the forces that holds her together and keeps her head held high and she can only hope to do the same for him. Can only wish that a year of heavy silence, weighed down by subtext and misunderstanding and fear, wasn't too much for the light that has always glowed from within him, between the two of them.

So she finds herself at his building. Soaked from the rain and aching from the day and pressing forward with renewed determination, with a flame of passion burning in her chest, as bright as her love for him.

She's tried to extinguish it. Has tried to do so endlessly, for years. Since the day he first sparked interest in her mind, left her wanting for something she forbade herself from having.

Until now.

Now she can have it. Now she needs it. Has stoked the fire of her love so much, so blindly that it has her forgetting about the pain in his eyes when they last said goodbye. Has her remembering the passion with which he said the words that had remained silent for so long.

Silent in her mind. A whisper within her heart. A promise as she laid on the grass that day. A final beacon of hope as she had held onto the roof earlier, held onto the possibility of a future.

With him.

I love you.

And so she finds herself at his door, staring at it until her eyes burn and she's blinking away tears she cannot shed, weakness that loosens the tight knot of conviction in her chest and leaves her doubtful. Just for a moment. Until she pulls it tight again, her fists clenched at her side and heart pounding with a steady beat of three unspoken words.

Her hand lifts. Strong and sure and doubt unfurls in her stomach, fades the minute her knuckles hit the door.

The minute she sees his face when he opens it.

Because the anger is still so evident, a stony wall hiding the love that was once so bright. And yet she can still see it shining through, realizes with halting certainly that he can't hold it back any more than she can. That he's as powerless in the face of this all-consuming, beautiful, but oh so painful love as she is.

And her lips part, around the words, around a promise that she should have told him long ago. In the freezer. In Los Angeles. In her hospital bed after that same promise saved her life, kept her tethered to him even as her heart tried to give out.

Earlier this week, when he all but begged her for it and she left him shattered by pain, left herself falling apart under the weight of regret.

She opens her mouth, but he's the first to speak.

"Beckett, what do you want?"

And it's there, curled around the tip of her tongue, words unspoken for far too long, beautiful and yet terrifying in their honesty, in their power to change both his life and hers.

But only the last one tumbles from her lips.

"You."

His eyes flicker with the force of it. A single word, a single syllable that pushes the anger from his eyes and leaves him staring at her, his love for her shining bright, for just a moment. And she can only hope that by knocking down the wall around her heart, she's let him see the same beautiful thing, bright and beautiful and shining back at him from her own eyes.

This wonderful, terrifyingly powerful thing that burns between them and locks their gaze and draws her forward. Towards him. Reaching for him. Her hands curling around his neck.

And she kisses him.

true love.

Happy Castle Fanfic Monday, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this and all the other lovely fics being posted today. And, as always, a huge thanks goes out to Lindsey for beta'ing this for me. (Also, if you enjoyed this, you should all go follow her because we might have a few other one-shots based on this song in the works.)