I'll put my future in you
Coz you are my one and only
And you can wrap your fingers round my thumb
And hold me tight
It'll be alright
Small Bump, Ed Sheeran
Future in You
Curled up on the couch in the loft's living room, Kate wraps both hands around the mug of black tea and closes her eyes, lets the steam stroke its soothing fingers up along the crag face of her jaw and across her cheeks. After a moment, she frees one hand from its grip around the mug and settles it instead against the curve of her belly.
Her bump is still pretty small, enough that if she wears a loose shirt it can go undetected, but already her husband can't keep his hands off. Constantly touching and chatting and singing to their little one, but Kate herself is only just starting to do so without feeling like a total idiot.
"Hi there, little one," she whispers, the words sliding slow and quiet past her lips. Her tongue darts out to moisten them - the tea just isn't cutting it - and she tastes the sharp tang of iron where she's been anxious all day, biting her bottom lip raw. There's so much more she needs to say, apologies to make, but first- "It's your mommy here."
Oh, wow. Just the thought, a moniker that runs back to the dawn of humankind, chokes her and she gasps, her breath coming shaky as if she's been crying. She hasn't, not yet, but these days she feels at war with her own body and the tears will certainly come later. Hopefully with her face pressed to Castle's neck, soothing gibberish in her ear, but she isn't sure anymore.
Kate takes a sip of the tea, her nose wrinkling at the absence of caffeine she has yet to grow accustomed to. Hand pressing a little more firmly against her stomach, she lets the nudge of life remind her why it's necessary. Why the exhaustion and the nausea will all be worthwhile in the end. Her head drops back against the couch and her eyes close, her neck aching with the tension of her day.
"I'm sorry, baby. I put you in danger today and I'm so sorry."
Another wave of terrible sickness washes through her and she breathes steadily, in through her nose and out through her mouth to a careful count. Castle bought her one of those bracelets that are supposed to be good for travel sickness, and it does tend to help. When she actually remembers to wear it. Fists clenched, she feels the crescent moons she carved out earlier today, her fingernails slotting right back into the tiny spaces.
"This is what I do. It's my job to catch the bad guys, even if it means putting myself at risk. But it's not just me who's in danger anymore, and I was too blind - too stupid - to be able to see that today," a laugh escapes her, hysteria foul at the back of her throat, on her tongue. "Kevlar. That's what I put between you and a murderer. Just kevlar."
Setting her mug on the long table behind the couch, on top of the NYPD coaster Rick bought in the first year he started shadowing her that she has long since appropriated. With both hands now free, she brings them down to her stomach and massages it gently, thumbs smoothing over the curve. There's no movement yet, not even internally, but she likes feeling the firm reminder of where she is. What's really important now.
Her silence stretches out into long minutes and she's glad for it, doesn't want the shame in her words to linger and come back later like a ghoul. The loft is so empty now, Alexis and Martha both gone, and she is so looking forward to eruptions of delighted laughter and nursery rhymes and yes, even crying in the middle of the night.
"Your daddy is so mad at me," she whispers, but even so the words - the knowledge - strip her raw, leave her trembling. Eyes closed, she sees the fury on Castle's face earlier today, his words crashing over her like thunder, and she has to open them again.
You don't get to do that, Beckett. It's not your child, it's ours. You don't get to put our baby's life in danger.
He had seemed so small, shoulders hunched to protect his heart, and she saw something baser in him, something animalistic. For as long as she's known Castle, she's known he's a wonderful father, loves his daughter so fiercely. Has seen it in action, even, back when Alexis was kidnapped. Only, she had no idea how much the pregnancy terrifies him, how afraid he is that something will happen before they even get to meet their little one.
I can't lose you, Kate, you know that. I can't lose either of you, he had said right before he walked out of the precinct. Her foolish, tender heart had thought that he'd be here at the loft, probably writing, but the wall of silence she slammed into when she got home told her right away. He's not here, and irrational as it may be, she's afraid he's not coming back.
Tears pulse behind her eyes, scalding and ferocious, and she almost wants to let them come. She deserves it, to let the guilt and the pain drag her down to the depths, to drown in it. A life is growing inside her, blossoming into something wonderful, but all she wants to do is wallow in her misery.
Well, what she really yearns for is to hold their baby close, skin to skin, kiss the downy head. Tiny little fingers clutching her thumb, mouth rooting at her chest, the warmth and the smell and the way Castle will smile at her. Five months, still, before she can do that.
Today it almost became never.
A keen escapes her and she bends double, the angle of grief harsh in the vertebrae that poke through her shirt. Straightening up again, Kate draws her knees towards her chest in defence and rests her chin on them. Her hands are trapped between her thighs and her stomach now, covering her pregnant belly. "I'm so sorry, baby. I promise you I won't let it happen again. I'm gonna keep you safe. I promise."
The oath she shares with their unborn child reminds her all too clearly of the day she found out the little life existed, the day she told her husband he was going to be a father again. He had been running his mouth about something, spouting some nonsensical theory about their latest case. Not listening to her.
She had tried a few times, mouth opening only to be silenced by another tangent of his brain, and eventually she had blurted it out right there in the break room. Rick, I'm pregnant.
He had dropped his coffee, the lid flying off and scalding liquid spraying in a sweeping arc as the travel cup fell before it crashed to the floor and the ruined beverage had pooled under it. Coffee had splashed up both of their legs, but though she had hissed and recoiled, reached for paper napkins, he had remained a marble giant, unmoving.
And then he had, gathering her in his arms and kissing her hair, her temple, her cheekbone, before he finally landed at her mouth. His grip at her waist was so tight, so overcome with adoration that she had lifted right off the ground, not even minding when he spun her around.
Really? We're having a baby?
Even after she showed him the positive test when they got home, even when she let him hold her hand while she called her doctor to set up an appointment, he'd been a little slack with shock. Not quite able to believe it was real until they saw their little wriggly kidney bean on the sonogram.
We're having a baby, Castle, she had promised him, elation making her a little silly so that she stopped caring if somebody might walk in on them. They'd laughed about that, a baby Castle, and he'd nudged her up against the counter - skirting the coffee spill on the floor - and kissed her to let her understand his awe and his gratitude.
I'm gonna take care of you, I promise. I'll keep you both safe.
His promise, unlike hers, remains unbroken. She hadn't needed the reassurance, could never have possibly doubted him. She's the one who's screwing this up, being reckless and putting everything they care so fiercely for at risk.
God. She has to find him. Make him see that she's sorry, that she knows what a colossal idiot she has been, and that she will sit at her desk every damn day for the next five months and not even think about putting their child in any more danger.
"I love you. Mommy loves you so much," she whispers, before she unfolds herself and stretches her limbs, standing up from the couch to turn towards the door. It's already open, her husband leaning in the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets, and when their eyes meet the red thread that stretches between them yanks hard and she stumbles in her haste to reach him.
The too-long socks she stole from his drawer in the dresser have her sliding across the hardwood, skidding into him, and his arms come up to catch her before she ends up on the floor at his feet. Kate nuzzles her face into the side of his neck and feels the sharp inhale against her hair, his hands splayed wide over her back.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please don't leave us," she chokes out, fingers clawing at the wings of his shoulder blades and he rocks her, kisses scattering over the crown of her head.
"Of course not. I couldn't- I'm not-" he sighs, and a small smile quivers at one corner of her mouth in adoration for him. For a man who makes his living with words, he sure does struggle with them when it comes down to the wire. "I'm staying right here, Kate. I could never leave you."
Nudging her away from him just a little, his hands come to her upper arms to hold her in place and he meets her eyes, dusts a soft kiss to the edge of her cheekbone. She lets herself relax a little, lays a palm over his heart. "I'm not good at this. I know what's at stake, I do, but I also know what's at stake when a murderer goes free."
"There are other people that can take down killers, Kate," he says gently, his thumbs smoothing back and forth at the inside of her biceps. "But only you can take care of our child. Only you can be our baby's mother. If I could do it for you I would."
"No," Kate shakes her head, feels a little zap of outrage run through her. "I'm so happy that I get to carry this baby, Castle. It's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. I just need you to remind me to take it easy, not to be reckless."
"Okay," he smiles, his mouth coming to the top of her head again to brush a kiss to the pale line of her scalp. "Okay. We're doing it together. We're gonna do this right."
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