unbelievable
For Jess, who, just like this one-shot, is short and incredibly sweet. So forever thankful for you.
She's sweaty and gross. Her hair is a mess, falling out of the braid she had hastily put it into hours and hours ago. She's exhausted; she keeps drifting off, shaking herself awake again when she hears the little whimpering cries from next to her.
"Castle," she mumbles, pushing at her tangled hair that falls into her eyes as she blinks into alertness. He doesn't answer. She pushes her elbow back and is rewarded with a grunt over her shoulder. "Castle, she's hungry."
"What?"
"Get up and get our daughter," she says.
He only moves closer, his arm wrapping around her waist as he snuggles into her neck. "Sleepy."
She nearly shoves him off the narrow bed completely. "I'm tired. I just gave birth to our daughter. I win." Her eyes are already closing until she feels the gentle, warm weight of the baby against her arm. "I need coffee," she whines as she sits up to settle back against the bed.
He laughs, sitting next to her knees. "Few more months, Beckett."
It's awkward for a moment as she tries to balance the baby in the crook of her arm and untie the shoulder of the hospital gown. She swats at Castle's hand as he tries to help. "I've got it," she mutters and she's not sure if it's a reassurance for her husband or for herself. But she manages to free one of her breasts and bring the baby close enough for her to latch on.
She watches for a moment, her thumb smoothing soft little circles over the girl's cheek, along the tiny curve of her nose. "She's beautiful," she whispers.
"You both are."
"That's sappy and you know it."
"But true," he insists. He shifts closer so that he can run three fingers over the baby's forehead, just under the band of the striped hat. "Pretty sure I caught one of the boy babies staring at her in the nursery earlier."
She laughs, stopping herself when the baby blinks up at her. "Sorry, baby," she says, stroking her fingertip along the back of the girl's curled hand. "Can you believe it?" she asks, eyes drifting shut. "Her? Us? Any of this?"
"Most of the time, yes," he says. "Then there are times like this that hit me. And I'm so thankful."
"I love you," she sighs, leaning forward just enough for her lips to glance off of his cheek.
"Remember that when I'm pushing you out of bed to comfort our crying child," he teases as the baby falls off of Beckett's breast. "I'll take her. You take a nap."
She wants to protest, to spend more time with her daughter but she's so tired. "'Kay. Wake me up in an hour?"
His lips are dry as they brush over hers. "Will do."
