Chapter Text
From the moment he turned around and saw the gun in her hand, he knew. Her hand outstretched offering the piece to him shook but there was that determined look in her eyes he had come to know so well. It was the same look she gave him every time he tried to tell her to leave and never look back. He knew he could trust her before, when he was in the hospital, the courtroom. He knew he could trust her when she welcomed him into her apartment even after the event in the woods, when he turned his back on her tear streaked face, "you’re dead to me" ringing in his ears. He knew the feeling he mulled over for a moment as he glanced between those clear blue eyes and the gun was not trust, but something else much more complex. He felt it tug on his heart and pull at his lungs.
He moved closer to her and saw that same trust reflected in her eyes, mixed with fear, courage, and kindness. Karen Page: emotional nebula. He paused, looked at the gun, looked back at her. She nodded her head, a little jerking motion with her chin, eyes never leaving his. He knew what she was saying without any words between them. How easily they could understand each other. Frank nodded and took the gun.
She moved in front of him, her steps confident and sure, and pressed her back to his chest. Instinctually he pressed in closer, the warmth of her body a small comfort amid the chaos. Slowly he brought his arm up to hold her against him. He hesitated, the gun in his hand too close to her face for comfort.
“It’s okay,” she murmured against his skin, pressed her lips gently to his cheek as he had the other night by the water. She gripped his hand in hers and brought the cold metal to her chin, butt of the gun hard against her sternum, warmth of his skin seeping through her shirt grounding her. “Ready?” she asked, concern clear in her voice. He nodded and they walked out of the kitchen.
On the other side of the doors, several guns pointed their way as the two of them rounded the corner. Karen lowered her arms to her side and prepared to act the part of the hostage.
“Don’t shoot!” She shouted, her voice surprisingly steady as they walked through the hall. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.” The men lowered their weapons as they watched Frank limp them over to the elevator. She could feel the strain in Frank’s body as he backed them against the wall and waited for the elevator, his labored breaths coming fast and hot against her ear. The tension in the room was palpable as the officers stood their ground.
“Hold your fire!” Brett Mahoney called to his men. “Stand down. Everybody, stand down.” The Detective Sergeant’s eyes scanned back and forth between her and Frank but he made no move to act. “Let her go, Castle. There’s no way out of this, man. Got the building surrounded.”
The doors opened and they wobbled in. Frank kicked the panel to close them and the second they were alone, the tension snapped. They fell apart, Karen’s legs gave out a little and she braced herself against a wall while Frank pushed himself into a corner, both panting as they fought to catch their breath. She straightened against the wall and reached out a hand, almost touching him, just an acknowledgement of his presence and that they were both okay. He glanced up at her and in that moment he could only describe her as fierce and goddamn beautiful. She leaned over and pulled the emergency stop. They had a only a few moments left and then Frank would be gone, up the elevator shaft as fast as possible.
He gave her back the gun. She weighed it in her hands as they switched sides. Frank looked up. There was anguish in his expression as he reached up to push away a ceiling panel for his escape. He collapsed back into the corner.
Karen watched him closely, taking in his multitude of injuries. All this for her? With so much pain and damage she had caused him, maybe he was better off without her. But he hadn’t needed to come for her. He kept telling her, perhaps more in actions than words, to stay away from him because of the danger that surrounded him. But he had come anyway. She could appreciate the significance of that but knew now was not the time to speak on it.
She saw the jagged piece of metal protruding from his arm and then she was calling out his name. He didn’t hear her so she called again. He tore his eyes from the ceiling, down to his arm, back to her, to the ceiling again and back. She went to his side like he had his own gravitational pull. His eyes finally settled on her, his breathing rough and ragged. She had to resist the sob bubbling up, bit her lips to keep the sound contained. Hand on his shoulder she looked closer at the shrapnel in his arm. He looked down, nodded, knew how grim his situation was.
Words caught in her throat, she couldn’t think beyond his pain and that she had gotten him mixed up in this. She grimaced, gesturing vaguely at him, tears scrunching up her face. He looked at her, the one beautiful thing in the whole world at that moment. Looked at her like he was a sinner and she was his salvation. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned more into her space, his eyes glancing between her eyes and her lips. He couldn’t pick one feature to focus on. Leaned in closer still before settling his forehead on hers. He closed his eyes, prayed that maybe this moment could extend for eternity.
They took a moment to share space and listen to the other’s breaths. Each knowing that at some point, it had to end. Karen would not let anyone else take him from her. She pressed closer for a second and squeezed his arm before stepping back, whispering, “Go, go.” She couldn’t let them take him. She had to keep her distance or she was afraid she would never let him go.
She saw Frank tear himself out of the moment, out of the calm they had created for themselves. She couldn’t help it as the tears welled up but she saw his red-rimmed eyes and decided it was okay to let them fall. There was nothing she needed to hide from him. The pause lasted only a beat longer.
“Take care.” His voice was gruff in the silence. Then he jumped and pulled himself into the elevator shaft with a pained grunt. She watched him go, but –
“Frank!” She called out, looking up through the hole in the ceiling where she could see his boots. His face appeared over the edge. “Come see me when it’s done. When you’re done. Whenever you’re ready.”
Frank looked down at her, his saving grace. She was bruised and battered, shaken up from the day’s events but she was the single brightest point in his life. How could he keep himself away from her? He nodded and croaked out a soft “Okay,” ghost of a smile on his lips. She could have asked him to walk through fire and he would do it. That feeling from before, when she had offered him the gun and a way out, returned. It nearly punched him in the gut, adding to his already numerous injuries. He knew what it was now, too obvious do anything but chuckle at himself with the realization. She flashed her own grin his way, nodding back as he made his escape.