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Still working through the songfics; I'm hoping the rest want to be short, too. Here's a double drabble for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
izhilzha, who wanted Castle, Beckett, #4, which was Cream, Deserted Cities of the Heart.
*
Upon this street where time has died.
The line ran over and over in Kate's mind as she lay in bed. Skip and repeat. She couldn't remember where it came from (Castle would know; it was the sort of thing he could pull out of that database of useless facts he called a brain) but she knew what it meant. Time had died for her when her mother had, and though she'd gone on -- and done plenty with her hours, when she allowed herself to think about it -- the second of Johanna Beckett's last heartbeat lingered, and Kate could be thrown back into it in an instant. Like that guy in that movie… ("Groundhog Day!" Castle crowed in her head.) She couldn't ever break away, because time was dead, and everything done since was an illusion, not just her accomplishments, but everyone else's too, everything she thought was real and solid and comforting.
The arm over her slid down to her thigh, caressing, and a sleep-saturated voice murmured "Nikki…" against her shoulder.
As she turned over to berate Rick for confusing her with a figment of his imagination, she wondered if maybe the clock had started ticking again.
izhilzha, who wanted Castle, Beckett, #4, which was Cream, Deserted Cities of the Heart.*
Upon this street where time has died.
The line ran over and over in Kate's mind as she lay in bed. Skip and repeat. She couldn't remember where it came from (Castle would know; it was the sort of thing he could pull out of that database of useless facts he called a brain) but she knew what it meant. Time had died for her when her mother had, and though she'd gone on -- and done plenty with her hours, when she allowed herself to think about it -- the second of Johanna Beckett's last heartbeat lingered, and Kate could be thrown back into it in an instant. Like that guy in that movie… ("Groundhog Day!" Castle crowed in her head.) She couldn't ever break away, because time was dead, and everything done since was an illusion, not just her accomplishments, but everyone else's too, everything she thought was real and solid and comforting.
The arm over her slid down to her thigh, caressing, and a sleep-saturated voice murmured "Nikki…" against her shoulder.
As she turned over to berate Rick for confusing her with a figment of his imagination, she wondered if maybe the clock had started ticking again.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-20 12:32 am (UTC)From:That said, you got the part about how Beckett remembers her mother spot on, IMHO.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-20 12:03 pm (UTC)From: