Something had woken him up, and he wasn't quite sure what it was, but as he rolled over on the bed, his arm lifting the duvet up and away from his body as he sidled up to reclaim his position as the big spoon around Kate, he felt it. It was warm, but it was mostly wet. For a split second, his eyes bolted open and his eyebrows nearly knitted together to meet in the centre of his forehead as he wondered if he'd drunk enough before going to bed that would've meant that he'd lost all control of his bodily functions. Sure, he and Kate had shared a few celebratory glasses of wine together, their latest case had finally been solved and the killer had been apprehended behind bars, but they hadn't drunk enough so that he was completely inebriated. In fact, they'd gone to bed earlier because Kate had said she wasn't feeling too great.
Pulling back the covers, Rick slips out of the bed effortlessly, careful not to wake his sleeping girlfriend from her slumber as he does so. Looking down at his boxers, he deducts that it isn't him, and so with a flick of his wrist after a twist of his torso, he's turned the bedside lamp on, and there it is. It's not disgusting, it's not abnormal, and it's a part of life. But it's there – and it's makes sense. Climbing back onto the bed, he presses a kiss in the concave of her shoulder, waking her slowly. When she doesn't stir, he gets up and heads into the master bathroom. Taking the plug, he positions it into the trap of the waste and turns on the hot water tap, leaving the bath running as he makes his way back into the bedroom, crouching down at her side of the bed, facing her this time.
"Kate," he whispers, placing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. His index finger starts at the top of her nose, between her eyebrows and gently, he strokes downwards to the tip, and repeats. Earlier on in their relationship, he'd found out by accident that it was the way to wake her up so that she wouldn't be angry. It was something her mother, Johanna had done when Kate needed to get up for school as a girl, and so Rick knew that if he did this, she'd wake up and she'd be all kinds of drowsy, but she wouldn't be angry.
The smile that crosses her face when she finally opens her eyes, only to be greeted by her husband's face is that of love. She yawns slightly, and rubs her eyes before she looks up, glancing at the alarm clock on her bedside table that is telling her that it's almost four in the morning. "Hey, you," she says with a whisper. Over the years, she's learned not to question why her husband does the stupid things that he does, and that it's easier to let him get on with it – even if it means waking her up. But then she feels it as she rolls over, stretching her limbs in a lazy manner, and immediately, she's sitting up in bed with a panicked expression on her face. Confused and still within the confines of her sleepy gaze, her face falls and instantly Rick stands up and picks Kate up into his arms without so much of a protest from his wife, or a solitary sound from his mouth.
He carries her through to the bathroom without so much as a single word as she rests her head on his shoulder, emotionally exhausted from the past four months, and this was just like another twist of the knife. She had been ten and a half weeks pregnant when the cramping had begun. It was dull, and felt like a regular period pain, and initially she had been worried. She had told Rick, and of course, he had taken her straight to the OB/GYN, who had confirmed that her cervix was dilating and that she was miscarrying. Kate hadn't even known she was pregnant. Rick had suspected, but with everything that was going on at work, the symptoms were too similar with that of stress and anxiety that he hadn't wanted to point out the possibility that they were going to be parents.
The doctor had performed a sonogram to confirm that there was no beating heart, no life inside of Kate, and although neither Kate nor Rick had known about the pregnancy, they both felt a blow so hard that Kate had been reduced to tears on the hospital bed over the baby she hadn't known she even wanted while Rick had scooped one arm around his wife's shoulders and had buried his face into the crook of her neck, crying silent tears as he tried to remain supportive. They had been told that they could let the miscarriage run it's course or that they could go through a dilation and curettage to remove any remaining tissue. Kate hadn't been able to think about that and as Rick had weighed up what would be better and easier for Kate, the doctor had explained that a D&C would be better, because past eight weeks, there was a possibility that you could see the foetus and the placenta when going to the bathroom or changing your sanitary towel. There was no way that he was going to let his wife go through that trauma, so he'd made the decision, trusting that Kate would understand why.
So the D&C had gone ahead, and it had been explained that Kate would see some bleeding, which would eventually lessen as the days had passed. Rick had done everything he could to be there for her, and the two had waded through this battle of unbearable pain and despair together, leaning onto each other, clinging for support. They had been told that her periods would return within the next four to eight weeks, but that her body may have to adjust to a completely different cycle than to what she was used to.
Which was entirely what had happened. They both knew this day would come, but it had crept upon them both as quietly as the news about their lost pregnancy had that Kate found herself speechless as Rick had gently set her down onto the toilet seat, stripping her slowly before he tests the water of the tub to make sure it wasn't too hot. He hadn't put any bubble bath, or any of her lotions or potions into the water. He didn't want to do anything that would aggravate her. Kate simply stayed in place on the toilet seat quietly, until Rick had lifted her into his arms once again, lowering her gently into the tub before placing a kiss onto her forehead.
"I'll be right back," he had told her, pressing another kiss to her cheek, before standing up and heading back into the bedroom with the nightwear Kate had been wearing to bed. Peeling the bedclothes away from the mattress, he piles everything into his arms as he heads into the laundry room, placing them on a ninety-degree cycle with some fabric conditioner and detergent. Heading back into the bedroom, he makes the bed up with some fresh bedding, and grabs a pair of Kate's pajamas, putting them into the tumble dryer. Turning it on, he heads back into the bathroom, where he finds Kate with tears rolling down her cheek as she lays in the tub, silent as anything. The only sounds in the room were of the water trickling against the sides of the tub as her body convulses with her silent cries.
She can barely bring her eyes to look at her husband as he practically leans over the tub to comfort her. The immense grief that washes over her for the baby she had lost. The baby she didn't even know she was carrying and yet, somehow, still loved with every fibre of her being. She had been pregnant, she had conceived a child with her husband but then her body had betrayed her in the worst possible way. She had failed at her basic duty as a woman, and as a wife, and instead of keeping her embryo safe, her body had chosen to expel it, casting it aside as a foreign body. Tissue that wasn't required, that wasn't wanted. But now her body was begging for forgiveness. Reminding her that life would go on, that she could generate a new life, no matter what had happened in the months that had passed by. Her period was back and was a reminder of the fertility she possessed, and yet all she could think of was the baby she had lost. It was unbearable, and before she had known it, Castle had lifted her out of the tub and was sitting with her cradled against his body, soaking wet and ruining his clothes as he sat on the toilet lid with his wife in his arms.
"Come on, I don't want you to get cold," he had murmured, his lips pressed against her the skin of her forehead as he stands up and gently sets her on her two feet, wrapping her into a towel. Disappearing into the laundry room, he retrieves the clean pair of pajamas from the tumble dryer, bringing them into the bathroom. "I warmed you up some pajamas and underwear," he tells her, as he turns around to grab the packet of sanitary towels from the bathroom drawer. "Put these on and I'll go and get you something to help with the cramping," he nods. Before he'd had Alexis, he'd had no idea about the intricacy of periods, but she'd gone through puberty and he'd learnt all about cramps and the pain, and he had a few tricks about how to soothe the ache.
But when her hands had gripped his shoulder, refusing to let him leave, he had straightened his spine and looked at her, before leaning in to press another kiss to her temple. She didn't want him to leave, and if that was how she felt right now, then so be it. Grabbing the sanitary towel, he pressed it to the seam of her panties, tucking the wings under the sides of the material in place before leaning down. Kate obliged, lifting her legs as she stepped into the underwear, allowing one of the most intimate moments of her life to occur; even though she had been married to him for so long now – this was new territory. Never had she let anyone deal with her during her period, and although it was sure to only bring them closer together, right now all she needed to know was that he was there for her.
Rick manages to get Kate dressed, and the warmth of the clothes does help the cramping that occurs every couple of minutes or so. When he leads her into their bed, the fresh bedding welcomes her like a soothing hug as she slips beneath the covers. She curls onto her side into a foetal position as Rick disappears, emerging through the doorway to their bedroom moments later with a cup of tea and two painkillers, offering them out to her with a loving smile. She couldn't imagine any of her previous lovers ever being so accommodating, but as she sits up and puts the painkillers into her mouth, swallowing them down with a mouthful of tea, she leans back against the pillows, her head resting on her husband's shoulder. She silently thanks him for everything he's done for her, and he wraps himself around her, keeping his hands on her lower abdomen, rubbing in slow circles as he silently tells her that it's okay, that they'll try again and one day, she'll be pregnant, and that one day, he'll be there rubbing her pregnant bump for as long as he needed to be until their baby was born.