dying stars

A series of events inspired by several six-word stories by writingsforwinter. Potential season 6 spoilers, but I'm completely spoiler free, so maybe not. Please don't leave any spoilers in reviews. I'm spoiler-free.

Disclaimer: Is Andrew Marlowe currently on the verge of tears because he gets his AS-Level results tomorrow? No? Then I'm not him.

Our mouths met like dying stars.

From the roof of his building, there's a beautiful view of the sky.

Sometimes when he's sleeping and her mind is racing she'll slip from the sheets and climb up the stairs and she holds her breath and her heart thumps harder in her chest until finally there it is and the view is astounding and amazing and she can. Breathe. Remember that even if water is beautiful and it flows, sometimes she needs a break. She is only human. Nobody expects her to be anything more than that. Only herself.

He never notices. When she's sifting through his closet for her ballet flats, his nose will scrunch, his palm reaching out. But never once does he wake. She doesn't know what that says about them. She's not sure if she wants to know.

Kate breathes out, slowly, quietly. Places her face in her hands and just. Exists.

"Hey."

She startles, turning to find him standing in the doorway to the rooftop. Hair still mussed from sleep and her hands and his eyes a little sharper than they ought to be.

"Hey. What're you doing up?"

"Shouldn't that be my line?" He counters, not making an attempt to move closer.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, nerves fraying slightly. How can she possibly explain to him that her mind is racing and it's all his fault? How can she possibly explain to him that sometimes she can't sleep at night because she's terrified of the day she doesn't come home to him and breaks him until he'll never be whole again?

"Hey. You wanna talk?"

Kate opens her eyes without having realised that she'd ever closed them. He's closer now, almost close enough to touch, and oh, how she aches for that. Skin on skin. To make her forget. To make things slow down. To place a blissful void between the things that hurt her and him.

"It's 3am, Kate."

Her eyes flick back to the stars. Dull. Her place of solitude, of simply existing, of space. Gone now.

He's everywhere. All at once. In her home and her heart and now even in her stars.

Sometimes she resents him for it and sometimes she hates herself for resenting him for it.

"C'mere, Castle." She speaks softly, and he moves forwards without question.

Her arms are around his neck in an instant, lifting on her toes eagerly as her mouth meets his in a tangled oxymoron. Soft and tender but bubbling with heat and rage. His hands settle on her hips even as she feels his hands tremble, his anger at her solitude strengthening. Why does he have to be a part of everything? He already has her, is that not enough? Has she ever been enough? How much can he possibly want? How much can she possible give?

"Hey." His hands are suddenly soft and gentle when they pull away, capturing the stars in her tears. "Talk to me. Kate. Please."

How can she possibly tell him how terrified she is of never being enough?

"Just. Hold me." She manages to get out, and he does.

The stars in the sky are dull as she looks up. And, what used to shine so bright to her on a silver wedding band, is just another chain.

She turns to him and kisses him once more as though she can possibly change a lifetime of habits simply by loving him.

We were always alone, even together.

Kate's curled up on the sofa with a copy of the latest Patterson novel in her hands when he arrives home. Her mouth parted softly in sleep, the softest snore leaking out that she refuses to accept that she makes, her eyelashes chasing the shadows on her cheekbones.

He stands at the end of the couch for a moment, content to watch her, even with his suit jacket still draped over one arm and his tie only half-undone. She's beautiful. She's everything. She's enough. Even if she can't give everything, even if sometimes it feels like this whole relationship is one-sided, she's enough. She always has been.

He moves on into his loft, changing in their room before going back to her. Heart heavy when he notices that her favourite mug is in the wrong place, and that her toothbrush was left on the counter instead of placed in the holder with his, and that the latest edition of Nikki Heat is buried beneath all of her summer reading, even though she'd told him she couldn't get enough of it. Even though she'd told him she loved him more and more each day when she saw the dedication. Even though she'd laid in bed with him that night and they'd mapped out their future in whispers, pinpointing events like constellations they're both ready to dive into.

"Hey." He whispers softly, stroking her hair lightly as he crouches down to her level.

Her lashes flutter, one bleary eye peeking open to stare at him. "Castle. Hey. You're home." She says, voice hoarse. "I thought your flight wasn't 'till tomorrow."

"I grabbed an early flight. Thought I'd surprise you."

Kate's lips twitch. "Good to have you home, Castle." She says, even as she's leaning her head back down on the couch.

"Yeah." He murmurs, watching the way her features slacken as she falls asleep. "Yeah, good to be home."

She protests when he tries to carry her to their bed, and he tries not to think too much about the fact that their bed is unmade, as though it hadn't been touched since he'd left.

It's not the first night he's slept alone under the same roof as her.

The saddest word in English: Stay.

"I love you."

They're standing in her apartment, amongst the overstuffed cardboard boxes that all of her things had been stuffed into. Her hair is pulled back into a scruffy bun, one stray strand clinging to her skin, her cheeks flushed from exertion. There's a van waiting outside to be filled with all of these boxes, all of her things, her trinkets, her furniture, all the parts of her he'd come to know. And there's a plane ticket in her pocket to Washington DC for a future he's still not quite sure includes him.

She stares at him, so he says it again, in the middle of her apartment like it always is.

"I love you."

She smiles, a slow and unsteady thing that threatens to make her eyes give away what she's really feeling. Then she picks up one of the boxes and heads towards the door, kissing him fleetingly as she passes. Already gone.

He holds her hand all the way to the airport as her Dad drives them. He studies how her hair falls over her shoulders, tumbles in curls and captures the light he's not sure they have anymore. And how her hazel eyes absorb the landscapes they pass, the people, eager to learn more, excited for this new job. And he is excited for her. And he is proud of her. He is. This is the kind of work she was made for, this is who she is and he loves her no matter the choice she makes, no matter if that choice leaves them miles apart with nothing but the memories to keep their hearts alive.

He just knows that's he's going to miss her a Hell of a lot more than he's letting on. He's going to miss bringing her coffee at work and flirting over a dead body with her and watching her joke with the boys. He's going to miss the way they finish each other's sentences like some kind of lovesick teenagers and the sparkle she gets in her eyes when she has a new idea and the way she breaks apart their suspect to confession. He's going to miss the way she laughs and the way she sounds when she whispers his name when his tongue roams her skin and he's going to miss the way that she loves him, the way that she shows it every day, the way he won't see anymore.

He's going to miss seeing that ring on her hand and knowing he put that there. That she wants them as much as he does.

Once her luggage is sorted out and she has a boarding pass in her hands, she turns to her Dad and gives him a huge hug. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, Katie." He hears the pride in Jim's voice as he lets his daughter go. "Call me as soon as you're all sorted out."

"I will." She says, and then she turns to Castle.

He stands, uselessly, for a moment, before she's stepping closer and she's around him and everywhere all at once with her face buried in his neck and her body moulded into his. She is always. Everywhere.

"I love you." He breathes into her skin. Maybe if he says it enough she won't go.

"I love you too, Castle." She whispers quietly, pulling away to stand in the circle of his arms and stare up at his face. Remembering everything about this moment.

"I'm gonna miss you, Kate." He barely says the words, his throat suddenly tight.

Her own bobs, her eyes suddenly a lot more tearful than he'd expected them to be. "Yeah." She says, voice husky. "I'm gonna miss you too."

She meets him halfway in their kiss, gentle and undeserving of everything they should be. His heart clatters against his ribs. It can't break free.

"I'll call you." She whispers against his lips, looking up at him. "Okay?"

He nods, but he doesn't feel it. It feels like someone's turned down the sound as her lips move, as crowds bustle about them, as her Dad warns her she's pushed for time. Her hands move to cup his cheeks, her eyes watering, before she presses a lingering kiss against his lips one last time.

"I love you." He chokes out as she pulls away, not the words he really wants to say, watching as she tries to smile at him reassuringly but it falls flat.

He watches as she falls into the crowd, the extraordinary Kate Beckett, until he can't see her anymore.

She exhaled her darkness like constellations.

Every inch of Washington is pressed suits and straight faces. And she's been here for all of four hours.

She crashes on the couch, feet laid out in front of her, sighing softly. Her new apartment is a mess. A beautiful, promising mess of cardboard boxes and new memories. Her old apartment was warm. Open. She can picture something more here. Something better.

From her position on the couch she can stare out of the window on the opposite wall, she can see the stars, only slightly. They peek around the corner of an office building, trying to find their way back to her.

She pads over to the window, opening it slightly and smiling at the feel of the city air rolling over her. Breathe.

Her phone is heavy in her hands, and she stares at it for a moment before slipping it back into her pocket. She had called her Dad during the cab ride to her apartment. She had text Lanie on her way up the stairs. Castle was the only one left. But the trouble was, she didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry'? No. Because she's not. This is her job, her career, and she loves it. She'll never apologise for doing her job. 'I miss you already'? No. Far too generic. She wants her own words for him. Not other people's lonely souls.

'I love you'?

She holds her left hand up against the night sky, squinting. An extra star joins the darkness.

Guilt seeps into her heart as quickly as it dissipates.

She'd never said that she would be good at this.

TBC

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