A/N: Just a little ficlet, nothing spectacular. A future fic I hope is enjoyable.
Imaginary
Daniel closed the front door softly behind him. It was late; he'd had to reschedule lectures back to back because of a case he needed to work with Kate. Four hours of talking later and he'd blearily made his way home in the dark, sick of the sound of his own voice.
He wandered through his dark house, dropping his beloved messenger bag inside his office. It was far too late for Mozart and puzzles tonight; the thought of a warm bed calmed his very soul, and he clambered his way up the stairs, far too tired to eat any of Lewicki's meals.
Stopping in the bathroom to throw water on his face and brush his teeth, he couldn't help feeling…serene. His routine, though interrupted more often then not the past few years, was something he had come to enjoy. The disorderly order of the day to day. It should have made him mad, manic, but in truth it made him happy.
Daniel sighed, closing his eyes briefly before turning out the light and heading into his bedroom. The sight that greeted him was one he knew he would never fully embrace, or believe to be real.
Kate was lying on her side, one of his old college shirts draped loosely across her petite shape, auburn waves falling softly around the pillow. Her small arm covered a smaller body still; Isabelle looked for all the world exactly like her mother. The tiny puffs of air raising her chest made him wonder what he did to deserve this.
He crossed the threshold quietly, not wanting to disturb the precious scene before him. Their three year old had learned quickly that when one parent was missing during the night, it allowed her the luxury of crawling into bed with the parent that remained. Daniel was worried it would become a habit, and that they'd never get their peace; Kate chided him, claiming Isabelle spent most of the day with Lewicki because of their respective, and often times interwoven, schedules, so she reserved the right to wander into their bed.
As it was, Daniel decided it was time to move her back to her room. Shifting Kate's arm, he looped his hands under the little girl's body, gently lifting her. She scrunched her nose and sighed, curling into him. Children had never been something he'd wanted; a child was a responsibility he couldn't bear, a tiny human that interrupted routine, and a person that needed constant attention he couldn't give. And then there was the potential that any child he bore could end up with his condition, and they wouldn't have a warning. Of course, he never gave being with Kate a second thought until it happened either.
The friendship had morphed into more along the way. After Donnie and Caroline they both had called it quits on the dating scene, too stubborn to admit what they felt for each other. He, too afraid to burden her with the things he created with his mind, and she too scared of being rejected, forever being seen as the bright student he worked with on occasion.
It was an impasse of their own making.
On a day that was neither spectacular nor fraught with mystery and murder, they'd simply talked. And talking led to confession.
The simple confession became a proposal within the year, a marriage within the next. Isabelle was the only real surprise, and it had been rough, adjusting to the thought of someone depending on you so wholly. He'd taken it in stride, despite the hallucinations and the fears. Natalie calmed him; he would never be able to give up her presence, and that was something Kate was well aware of. At times he saw the flashes of jealously steal across her lovely face, until the recognition that Natalie didn't exist flashed through her mind and she felt ridiculous. He told her it was okay, but Daniel wondered if she believed him. Natalie was a figment, Kate was real, and that was all that mattered to Daniel.
Kate, and Isabelle.
Isabelle had started the questioning phase of her life. What that meant for Daniel was her wanting to know why daddy talked to the empty chair at breakfast or argued with the walls in his office. Her small mind would never understand schizophrenia at such an age, so they'd told her the second best thing: daddy had imaginary friends. It was, incidentally, partially true. Isabelle was fascinated by this notion, often inviting Daniel's "imaginary friends" to have tea parties with her imaginary ones. He only hoped she'd outgrow the invisible friend phase quickly, for his sake. Kate thought it was sweet, but she saw the underlying worry in his expression every time Isabelle spoke about her imaginary friends, though she was far too young for any kind of diagnosis.
Daniel all but demanded genetic testing, and Kate refused.
"There is no definition of normal, Daniel. We can't change who she'll be. All we can hope to do is raise a good human being."
Her argument echoed in his mind every time he held Isabelle, or saw her, or thought of her.
Kate was usually right after all.
He held Isabelle closely a moment longer before laying her in her little bed, swathed in pale yellow sheets. She looked like Kate, but he secretly hoped she'd have his mind, his love of puzzles and music and mystery.
Daniel lingered, ingraining this image into his mind before retreating to his room and folding himself around Kate. She exhaled lightly, pulling his arms around her contentedly. He kissed her temple, and she smiled.
"I knew you weren't asleep," Daniel whispered accusingly.
She shrugged. "You know it's hard for me to sleep without you."
"So you say," he cajoled, smoothing strands of her hair out of her face.
"Have you thought of any yet?" she questioned, a teasing tone in her voice.
"Any what?" he asked, knowing it irked her.
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see the motion. "Have you thought of any boy names?"
"Nothing sounds…right," he whined, not liking the task of name choosing one bit. Kate took credit for naming Isabelle, and he'd agreed with her choice. Of course, he would have given her anything she wanted, even if the name had been something completely ridiculous. And they thought Isabelle would be all they'd have in the end.
God or Nature had other plans for them.
"Well if you can't come up with something, Isabelle will gladly name her little brother Strawberry Sparkles," Kate laughed, utterly amused by her daughter's name choice, which incidentally was the name of every stuffed animal she owned.
Daniel's laughter followed her own. "That will certainly make him popular."
"No doubt," Kate replied on a yawn, curling into his warmth as Isabelle had. The conversation was over, he knew, but would resume again tomorrow and the next day until he made his decision.
For now he held his wife close, dreaming of the life he never thought he'd lead and the children he never thought he'd have.
The family he had always wanted.
His perfect life.