For Diane who saves me from pod people and lilacwinteraire cos she's going to paley fest and I KB glare at her in jealousy.

Based on a conversation with Demuredemeanor.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

She can just about breathe, sitting on the edge of the dock, trickles of water streaming over her, still dripping from the tips of her fingers and weighing down her hair. Everything feels wet, is wet, and the rank, dirty, taste of near death is still lingering in the back of her throat.

She swipes at her face, raking at it with the sleeve of her sodden coat. Trying to remove the water, get it off, erase the memory. Damp black wool that feels too thick, cloying, and smells too strongly of all that she is trying to remove, she is trying to dry, uselessly because its more wet than she is, but she carries on.

She needs to rub it clean and make it go away.

Scrubbing harder where the water trickled into her nostrils, making the moisture-softened skin red raw, she is rubbing harshly at her lips where the water tried to break the seal, remembering how it tried to flood her lungs, seep through the fibres of her being and drown her.

She scrubs again harder.

"Kate stop."

His hand closes over her wrist, tight fingers grip around the edge of her sleeve, her coat, wet black wool clings too tight, but his grip is firm and grounding.

She swallows, the taste is still too real but she swallows past it as much as she can, forcing herself to breathe steadily.

This isn't affecting her again, it's not.

Because when she was under the water, she panicked, she let go.

But she follows his instructions, his deep voice commanding her to still her movements 'stop Kate'. Stopping Kate is part of the problem though, her hand, and now his with his firm fingers wrapped around her slender wrist, hesitate over her mouth.

She cant swipe at her face again as he holds her, he refuses to let her graze anymore of her tender skin.

"You were fine when I climbed into the back." He states, his fingers loosen, drawing her hand down to her leg, where he places it gently before pulling his own hand away.

She nods once, a sharp bob of her head in acknowledgement, closing her eyes against the concern in his.

She had been fine right up until…No!

She was…

She is fine.

He's fine.

They are both out and alive and fine.

Fine is the stupidest word in the English language and she has repeated it to herself so many times in the last few minutes, months, years, that it no longer seems to have meaning. It's a non entity of a word that floats in the nothingness space of her water filled mind, drowning, like she was.

She opens her eyes, more moisture, only this time from within, trapped inside the confines of her heavy lidded eyes as she stares at him.

She wont blink, if she blinks, tears will fall, pain will come, emotion will cascade and she cant…she's not ready for that.

He waits her out.

The next steady breath she takes he waits and watches, letting her chest rise and fall, she pushes whatever emotion it is she's battling away on the edge of the breath she exhales.

She looks, knows he's waiting and gives the smallest of nods, almost imperceptible, but it's there, for him to see, he does, he always does.

At her nod he speaks.

"Walk me through it." No over emotion, no condescending ploy to touch and comfort, he asks in simple terms that she can deal with, cop terms that keep her focused on detail and away from pain, the fact she thought she had lost…

"I climbed into the back to find your gun," He starts for her, "I went under the water and everything was fine."

It wasn't fine, clearly it wasn't, the car was sinking fast and she was stuck, belt buckled safe and secure and guaranteeing she would die.

She couldn't see him because he was in the back, the lights flickering, the car dimming as it pitched forward and sank.

"What happened Kate?" His hand reaches for hers, but she's lifting it away, she cant see him anymore, isn't aware of his fingers as they almost skimmed her.

She is back in the car.

"You were behind me," She swallows around the words, around the taste that still clings, sour and coarse, to the edge of her tongue. "You were under for…a.. a long time Castle, too long and I…".

He watches as her hand raises again, skimming the air, he can see what she's doing, knows and understands it is what she did underwater, her fingers roam the space seeking him.

She searched for him trapped in her seat, strapped in and unable to escape, her hand moved through the water looking for him.

His heart clenches tight in his chest when her empty fingers fall back to her leg. Bereft of him, even now as he sits so close, still unable to reach across the distance and…

"I called…your name, I turned in the…seat and I yelled it over my shoulder…but you…were still under." She breaks into his thoughts, her voice catching on every other word, forcing them past her dampened lips.

"We were sinking too fast, and the lights went out, everything was dark and rushing," She looked at him, willing him to comprehend what it felt like for her.

He couldn't remind her that he knew all to well what it felt like to have that fear, the brush of death at your partners back whilst you're trapped and helpless, stuck, unable to save them.

"The noise was…too much, water was pouring in and I looked over my shoulder again for you."

She lifted her head, tender, tired eyes finding his.

"I watched the water rise." She blinks past each word slowly, letting it fall into place so he understands, she watched every droplet, gush and flood surrounding her, thinking he was already dead and she was about to die too, drown, alone in her car. "I stared myself down in the mirror," her voice is far away, crinkled around the edges as she dries, as the reality of what happened to them sets in "just for a few seconds, I willed myself to have faith."

He wants to reach across and touch her, hold onto her for his own comfort as much as hers and let her words spill out, dripping over them like more liquid, oozing past them to land untouched on the floor.

"Then I gave up and just stared in hope that I would see your face," her eyes widen and drift to his, she almost smiles because he is there now, alive, "that you would appear behind me and smile and…" Her eyes close, the water in her mind is rising again, reaching her chin as she battles to pull the belt free, her head raised to the roof of the car trying to desperately snag the last few breaths of oxygen.

"The water rose too quickly, and then I was under."

Her hands thump uselessly against the glass, the windows that will not give and break, she wants to free herself to save him.

This was the truth he had been waiting for because when he had finally pulled his coat free and turned for her, to her, always to her, it wasn't the battling Detective he found.

It was Katherine Beckett, floundering, lost and alone.

The broken pieces of her that she had been tying together steadily over the last few months had drifted in the water, just for a few seconds, but he had seen it.

"I let go of the wheel." She says quietly, looking at him as he nods, she isn't surprised he knows, he always knows.

"I let go of the wheel." She states again, angrier this time, harsher, louder.

"I let go of the wheel," this time it's a growl, annoyance at herself seeping into every word "I'm so stupid, I gave in, I let go." She glares at him when he shakes his head and moves to reassure her. She doesn't want or need to be placated, so he lets it go and offers her something else instead.

"Why?"

He watches her brow scrunch in confusion as she thinks.

The water over her head, in her ears, so everything sounds muffled and far away, disconnected. She opens her eyes in the tints of blues and greens and browns, the water stings as it rushes in but she blinks around it, holding onto the breath she has trapped in her chest.

Her hand is on the wheel, and then it's not anymore.

"I let go" she says again "because…" her eyes flit to his again "I couldn't find you."

He reaches for her, his fingers sliding between the gaps of hers, like they had in the car, like they had when she was desperately reaching for him, on the verge of giving up, he wound their fingers tight together again and squeezed again.

He gives her a tender tug.

A pull.

Her fingers respond to his finally, reaching through the dark of the night the way they had searched through the murky water, catching hold of each other as they held on tight.

"But you…" she looks down, her fingers, pasty white between his, squeezing back.

"I what Kate?"

"You grabbed my hand…you found me." She says her voice steadying.

"And…" he prompts as he hears the belief taking root in her voice.

"You squeezed my fingers," she says as she remembers "you shot off my belt," she smiles as she shakes her head "and fired every damn round into the back window to make it crack."

He grins, although it had been horrific, scary and frightening the part where he got to shoot out the back window had been pretty cool.

"You saved us." She says it with something like…pride in her voice, he cant help but stare, amazed by the feeling, she's proud of him?

"I did!" He agrees, another squeeze of fingers.

"You saved me." It speaks volumes, more than she means it to, he has been saving her for a lot longer than he probably realises.

"Of course."

It floats between them, an inevitability.

He does.

He will.

Sirens, break the quiet, the settling of her pulse interrupted by the familiar noise, but it's ok now.

She's ok.

Not fine, but ok.

"You know what this means don't you?" He says giving her fingers another squeeze.

She scrunches her brow, purses her lips, she knows the man too well and the light teasing tone to his voice gives him away. "No, what?"

"I'm winning." He smiles, releasing her fingers as she bats him away and stands up. He points to himself "Ten" he waggles his fingers in the air before pointing at her "Eight."

She glares and it's a long time coming, but, she eventually rolls her eyes before stepping back and walking towards the approaching sirens.

He follows behind, smiling.