Disclaimer: This is still a no.
A/N: Welcome back all you Number One readers. I just had to continue the Cub story arc - though I skipped ahead a bit. Hope no one minds. ;) And yes this is a sequel which means I have quite a few chapters already planned out. Enjoy.
Kate loves days like this. The ones where she can laze around with her son while Castle is out doing something or other. This time it's a meeting that has him away on her day off but she's okay with it. Just part of his job and she's more than fine staying at home with their three month old. There's nothing better than this, nothing that tops the rush she gets when she's met with a toothless grin. But today isn't a day for smiles, she's been trying all morning and yet Cub just stares up at her from his resting spot on her thighs - grunts occasionally and chews on his fist.
It comes out of nowhere. The harsh cry that spills from his mouth, an agonized squall of discomfort. It scares her, makes her jump and stare down at her infant as if he's some sort of alien. He's never made this sound. He's cried before but what he's doing now, the red face, the way he's suddenly trying to curl himself up into a ball in her lap - he's never...she doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what's wrong.
She lifts him to her shoulder, pats at his back to try to soothe him but he screams louder and buries his face in her neck.
"Hey, shhh, s'okay Wes." He whimpers, his cries quiet and she breathes out a sigh of relief. He wiggles against her, pulls his head back and looks up at her. She gives him a smile, waiting for him to return it but he doesn't. His lip is still quivering, eyes still filled with tears. Those eyes break her heart. She has no idea what color they'll end up being but they're big, beautiful, endless pools of unconditional love.
His face scrunches, mouth opening and her chest tightens when he starts screaming again. She bounces him, pats gently but it doesn't soothe him. He's clean. He's been fed. She doesn't understand. She waits a few minutes, thinks he might calm down but if anything he seems worse by the time five minutes pass.
He's a happy baby. This doesn't happen. He never cries for more than a few moments. Usually as soon as she picks him up, he quiets down. She stands with him, tries pacing back and forth, rubbing his back. Doesn't work. His knees push into her chest as his hands pinch at her neck. Ten minutes and she's done. She can't do this. She can't listen to him cry and not know what's wrong.
She calls his doctor, can barely hear over her son's cries as she explains what's going on. How sudden it happened. She's panicking. She can feel it in her chest. Her heart is racing now, her brain tumbling over thoughts, jumbling them into a mess. He was a preemie, what if it's something serious due to the fact that he was born early? She asks. Just to be safe. Is she overreacting? She needs Castle. She needs him to be okay. She needs...something.
She tries to listen to the voice on the other end of the line but her baby is squirming against her, his face pressing into her shoulder as he wails. It's a bit hard to concentrate on anything else. A lump is forming in her throat and she hears the doctor mention colic, that it's normal for an infant to cry for up to three hours.
Her heart sinks to the floor. She can't do this. She's failing. She's supposed to be able to take care of her son. Her mind is running through what-ifs even after she hangs up. It could be something serious. What if it is? What if she's a terrible mother and there's something really wrong?
Holding him doesn't help. She tries to put him in his swing for a few minutes and he quiets at first - she thinks maybe it's over - but then he's back to crying. Red faced, tear stained cheeks, mouth wide, his forehead pinched. She doesn't know how to make this better. She gives him his hippo but he ends up kicking it away, makes it fall to the floor.
"Wes...I - I don't know what to do." She swallows roughly, tries humming to him while she holds his hand but she gives up after a few minutes. It's not helping.
She starts singing, forming the lyrics that usually put him to sleep. Somehow she makes it through the whole lullaby but he still isn't stopping. His voice is cracking, suffering and she's had to blow in his face twice to remind him to breathe. She grabs him from the swing. Just gives up on it as she cradles him. He's a whimpering mess between screams and she just holds him, tries to offer him comfort.
His eyes open and her heart shatters into pieces. She can't do this. If he doesn't stop soon, she's taking him to the emergency room. She doesn't care if it's just colic, she can't see him suffer. He's her son. He's not supposed to be in pain. She strokes over his head, whispers to him. It seems to help. He quiets down to little huffs of air, tiny fusses that she can handle.
"S'okay Cub." Except is isn't. Because something is hurting him, bothering him, making his legs kick and his body scrunch. He's uncomfortable. She knows that just from the way he's wiggling in her arms. His bottom lip trembles again, eyes closing as he lets out a loud cry. "Oh, no, shhh, please Wes, I don't..."
She's done. An hour of trying to help and she's out of ideas. She rushes to her phone, hits the speed dial and waits. She can't do this. Certainly not alone. She sways, rocks with Wes as she waits for an answer. He's in a meeting - but maybe he'll see it.
"Hey, Kate, I'm...is that Wes? He okay?" She almost smiles because who else would be screaming like an infant, but she doesn't. Because her son is inconsolable.
"I don't know what to do, I've tried everything. I called his doctor but she thinks it's just colic and I - maybe I should take him to the ER. What if something's wrong? He was born early and -"
"Breathe, Kate. I'm in the elevator, give me a few minutes and I'll be up." It'd be silly to keep him on the phone but she's tempted. She doesn't. She hangs up and waits.
She spends those few minutes sitting on the couch, Wes cradled in her arms. The lump in her throat is too big, her vision blurs, and she just wants him to feel better. She wants whatever is bothering him to just stop. She doesn't realize that she's crying until the door opens and she looks up as Castle comes in. A tear drops from her face, lands on her shirt.
"Hey,"
"I don't know what to do." It comes out as a whisper, a plea for help. She wipes at her face with one hand, Wes still bawling in the other as her fiance sits next to them. "I tried putting him down, I tried singing to him, patting him, rocking him."
"Let me see him." She hands him over, watches as the man she loves lays their son across his knees, bounces them, keeping Wes in place with a hand on his back. He pats, stops bouncing, sways his legs back and forth instead. Nothing happens. Cub is still in misery and she's still torn to shreds by it.
Five minutes pass. Neither of them saying a word but she's about to tell him to stop, she's so close to just rushing her baby to the hospital. Her chest hurts and she wants her happy son back. Just when she's opening her mouth the crying quiets, becomes a fret, then moves into whimpers. The sound keeps softening.
She waits for it, for him to start up again but he just squirms, kicks his legs out, and lays his head down on Castle's thigh. She sighs, full of relief and wonder but also a sense of failure. An hour. She tried for an hour. She mutters a 'thanks' not even sure what she's thankful for or if she even means it. She pushes herself up from the couch, gives the father of her child a quick kiss and bends to do the same to their son.
Everything comes so easy for him and she knows he's done all of this before and she doesn't hold that against him but it makes her feel insignificant sometimes. Like now. When she failed. She's Weston's mother and she couldn't help. She leaves her boys in the living room, retreats to bedroom to collect herself. She's no good to either of them right now.
The heat is amazing, a burning pleasurable wet sensation against her skin. She sinks further into the tub, stares at her knees poking through the surface of the water. Her brain knows this is ridiculous. It knows that she's blaming herself for things that don't make any sense, things that she has no control over and it's fighting her. Arguing. Her head is starting to ache from it.
Kate hears the door click, knows she's no longer alone in the master bathroom but she doesn't look at him. He's been good to her, given her the space she needed for the last couple of hours. She sniffs, tries not to think about the fact that she probably looks like a drowned blubbering rat. How attractive. But he's seen her in far worse situations.
"Wanna talk about it?" His tone is hushed, his steps sure. He knows she won't make him leave.
"Where's Cub?"
"He's asleep." She nods mutely, finally lets her eyes drift up to him. He's standing over her, gaze soft, understanding. She hates it. "Kate, it's okay."
"No it's not! I blanked."
"You didn't. You tried, you called his doctor, you were ready to take him to the hospital. That's not failing. That's being a good mother." She lets her hands raise, the heels press into her sockets as she tries not to choke on the emotion coursing through her.
She shakes her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and drops her arms back into the water.
"An hour. I tried to calm him down for about an hour and it took you ten minutes."
"It was more like twenty-five." He's trying to make her feel better and it's sweet but she doesn't want it. She just wants to sit here, forget how scared she was. How her chest still tightens at just the thought of it all. "I'm not better than you. I took a guess and it paid off."
Oh. It knocks the air from her lungs. That's what she's been thinking this whole time, isn't it? She hasn't figured it out but now, he's making it clear. He's a father, has been for so many years and she's just a bumbling fool who has no idea what she's even doing more than half the time. She doesn't say anything, just closes her eyes. What is there to say?
Three months and she still doesn't know. So she sits in here, in a tub of hot water because she's not really sure what's going on. She hears him come closer, the sound of a zipper, the rustling of fabric. She's still silent. Doesn't say anything as he strips. Doesn't open her eyes until the sound stops and a hand meets her shoulder.
"Sit up." With a sigh of a defeat she does. She's not going to fight him when he's trying to make her feel better. She lets him climb in behind, lets him situate himself in the water until he's comfortable and then she's turning, pushing into him, the water making waves as she moves. She straddles his hips, buries her face in his shoulder as his arms wrap around her.
"I was terrified. I thought I'd done something wrong, hurt him somehow or that he was sick."
"You did good." The weight lifts from her shoulders the moment she feels him cup the back of her head. He's so patient with her. "He'll be okay. Maybe cranky and he might cry but he's okay. Alexis had random bouts of colic from the time she was two months until about four months."
"I hate seeing him suffer."
"And that is what makes you such a good mom. If he didn't calm, I was all for taking him to the hospital just to be safe. You aren't the only one who gets scared." She pulls back, raises her head until she can see meet his stare.
"I guess I sometimes think that you always know what to do and I just stumble."
"We both stumble. It's called parenting." She leans in, presses her lips against his. "He's three months old, we still have his entire life to screw it all up."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"Yes it does, you're smiling." It's true and now she's chuckling against his mouth, loving that he can do this. Make her feel human again with just words, just his touch. He tugs playfully on the ends of her wet hair, nips at her bottom lip and she's forgetting all about it. All about feeling awful. About the sense of failure that took over. He's a good father, he's a good man. He'd be honest with her. He'd tell her if he thought she was screwing up their kid. Instead he's reassuring her.
"Thank you."
"Always." She huffs against him for using 'their' word in this circumstance but he's grinning cheekily, rubbing a hand down her spine. It slips beneath the water, presses into the curve of her back and she gives in. He's right, he's making her feel better. He's making sure she listens and now all she wants to do is cuddle with her son. Castle first because she's already in his lap and Wes is sleeping.
He gave her space and now he's here, pushing just enough. She lets him, she opens up, seeks comfort. He wins. The battle in her head, the ache in her temples, he wins. He defeats her doubts.
a/n: And that my friends is the first chapter. :)