Castle fic: Undercurrent 1/1
Title: Undercurrent
Characters: Kate Beckett, Rick Castle, others
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13 for language, concepts
Length: 536 words
Spoilers: Everything aired so far
Summary: "One look into those familiar blue eyes and Kate was hit by the most overwhelming feeling of homecoming".
AN: Takes place after 3.24. Huge thanks to rosie_spleen for the beta!
She'd had this dream before.
Countless times. Same beginning, middle and end. Every time. Same exhilarating feeling of relief, hope, happiness.
There you are.
Finally.
Only this time she knew it was different. Felt it with every inch of her being. This was no dream. No definite logic behind her assertion, just the most powerful sense of conviction.
This is it.
This is real.
One look into those familiar blue eyes and Kate was hit by the most overwhelming feeling of homecoming.
She sank into the warm embrace, returning it with a fierce hug of her own.
Finally.
The faint smell of perfume blended with the scent of her skin, as unique as the fingerprints Kate worked with each day. The way the smaller frame fit perfectly into her embrace, as familiar as her own reflection in the mirror.
The unmistakable feel of her mother's arms, elusive for what had felt like eternity, now engulfing her fully. Her presence akin to that first gulp of fresh water waiting at the finish line of her own personal, one-woman marathon through hell. The mother of all rewards for a job well done. Except... had it been?
This can't be real...
'I've missed you...so much'.
Regardless, she whispered the words into her mother's hair, clinging desperately to the intoxicating comfort that was already starting to slip away.
Not yet. Just a little bit longer. PLEASE.
Tears streamed down Kate's cheeks as her mother began to pull back, slowly walking away from her. Yet again. And as she always did in her recurring dream, Johanna Beckett wore that smile, all wisdom and love and serenity... except this time the sight of it hurt like being stabbed in the stomach with a double-edged sword.
Don't go. Not again, Goddamn it! WHY?
'Stay safe, sweetheart. Please...Kate!',
At the mention of those last words, Johanna's face contorted into sudden anguish. The familiar smile evaporated the second before she disappeared into nothingness.
Before loneliness could swallow Kate whole, a blinding pain shot through her belly, her chest, her throat, her head.
'Kate!'
Bright lights, bloodstained gloved hands and plastic tubing rushing in front of her. Above her?
What the hell?
'We got a pulse'
Pulls, pokes, prods! She couldn't fight them off.
Stop!
'Kate, stay with me!'
A deafening cacophony of voice and metal invading her ears.
I don't wanna be here...
'Sir, you need to back off. Now. Sir!'
Darkness hovered at the periphery of her vision, amidst yells of 'O2 stats' and 'liters of O-neg', and, God, that voice. His voice. It reflected every ounce of anguish she'd just seen in her mother's face, heard in her last words. How is this happening?? Why is this happening?
It hardly mattered anymore. She'd let herself be carried by this ripping tide. She'd do her best to keep her head above water for as long as she could, because that's what she was supposed to do. Right? And she'd do her best to ignore the overwhelming temptation to find that slick undercurrent with her feet and let it suck her in again.
Maybe next time, unless she could find a reliable raft on which to stand and fight.
Characters: Kate Beckett, Rick Castle, others
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13 for language, concepts
Length: 536 words
Spoilers: Everything aired so far
Summary: "One look into those familiar blue eyes and Kate was hit by the most overwhelming feeling of homecoming".
AN: Takes place after 3.24. Huge thanks to rosie_spleen for the beta!
She'd had this dream before.
Countless times. Same beginning, middle and end. Every time. Same exhilarating feeling of relief, hope, happiness.
There you are.
Finally.
Only this time she knew it was different. Felt it with every inch of her being. This was no dream. No definite logic behind her assertion, just the most powerful sense of conviction.
This is it.
This is real.
One look into those familiar blue eyes and Kate was hit by the most overwhelming feeling of homecoming.
She sank into the warm embrace, returning it with a fierce hug of her own.
Finally.
The faint smell of perfume blended with the scent of her skin, as unique as the fingerprints Kate worked with each day. The way the smaller frame fit perfectly into her embrace, as familiar as her own reflection in the mirror.
The unmistakable feel of her mother's arms, elusive for what had felt like eternity, now engulfing her fully. Her presence akin to that first gulp of fresh water waiting at the finish line of her own personal, one-woman marathon through hell. The mother of all rewards for a job well done. Except... had it been?
This can't be real...
'I've missed you...so much'.
Regardless, she whispered the words into her mother's hair, clinging desperately to the intoxicating comfort that was already starting to slip away.
Not yet. Just a little bit longer. PLEASE.
Tears streamed down Kate's cheeks as her mother began to pull back, slowly walking away from her. Yet again. And as she always did in her recurring dream, Johanna Beckett wore that smile, all wisdom and love and serenity... except this time the sight of it hurt like being stabbed in the stomach with a double-edged sword.
Don't go. Not again, Goddamn it! WHY?
'Stay safe, sweetheart. Please...Kate!',
At the mention of those last words, Johanna's face contorted into sudden anguish. The familiar smile evaporated the second before she disappeared into nothingness.
Before loneliness could swallow Kate whole, a blinding pain shot through her belly, her chest, her throat, her head.
'Kate!'
Bright lights, bloodstained gloved hands and plastic tubing rushing in front of her. Above her?
What the hell?
'We got a pulse'
Pulls, pokes, prods! She couldn't fight them off.
Stop!
'Kate, stay with me!'
A deafening cacophony of voice and metal invading her ears.
I don't wanna be here...
'Sir, you need to back off. Now. Sir!'
Darkness hovered at the periphery of her vision, amidst yells of 'O2 stats' and 'liters of O-neg', and, God, that voice. His voice. It reflected every ounce of anguish she'd just seen in her mother's face, heard in her last words. How is this happening?? Why is this happening?
It hardly mattered anymore. She'd let herself be carried by this ripping tide. She'd do her best to keep her head above water for as long as she could, because that's what she was supposed to do. Right? And she'd do her best to ignore the overwhelming temptation to find that slick undercurrent with her feet and let it suck her in again.
Maybe next time, unless she could find a reliable raft on which to stand and fight.