for rainbow-dango, who asked for it, and for all of you, who keep asking
in celebration of 100 stories
Sleep, Little Pigeon
a Dash companion
Sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings, -
Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes
-Japanese Lullaby, Eugene Field
He don't know what's woke him, but that happens a lot.
Dashiell blinks at the bright green lights of the clock next to his bed and waits for them to make a meaning. Mommy says not a four, not a five, not a six either. If it's a seven, then it's totally okay. If it's a six, it's not as great, but he can come find her. That's his favorite. Crawling into bed with Mommy and having her open her eyes and look at him. She always makes him good in the mornings.
It's a three.
He sighs and lifts his hands to his face, squeezes his eyelids shut, pushing them together and holding them closed. Don't work. Mostly never works.
He is bad at sleep. No good at it. He will be a cranky baby if it's a three.
Dashiell sighs and rolls over onto his stomach, but that doesn't help either. He needs his blanket, the one that pushes all over, heavy.
He needs Mommy.
A three is not good. Not even Mommy will be awake enough to help him with a three.
He's three. Maybe that's why he wakes at a three?
But he is close to four. Maybe it is a three close to a four? Dash don't know that either. Hard to tell. He looks at his clock again but the other numbers don't have meanings. He is a tired boy.
Then it comes again.
Oh. A noise.
Dash lets out a long sigh of relief and listens harder for it. That noise that woke him. What was it? Where? He has good ears. Mommy says he's a sharp listener, but also a good forgetter. He can hear it now again, a flicker on the edges, but more like a little tiny thing.
A tiny-
Oh, his baby.
Dash glances to the clock again and even though he's not supposed to, he slides out of bed in a snake-slither, quiet and quick, quiet and quick, good words, they sound right so this is okay. Plus he did not wake up himself, the baby woke him.
This is okay, Mommy will not be mad, it's okay, he has to go check on his baby.
His bare toes hit the floor and he takes a step only to crunch on a baseball. He catches himself before he can fall - whew, close one, that would be way way way too much noise.
Way too much. If Daddy wakes. . .lots of broken rules.
Mommy tells him the rules. She does good about telling him the ones that are important, that most people don't even know they have, but when their rules get broken, the people are so so mad. Daddy has a rule that Mommy told Dash. No talking before nine.
It is definitely long long before a nine. Daddy would be a growly bear, but not the fun kind. Not a lot of laughing for Daddy before nine.
The noise comes again and he hurries now, moving to his door and pushing it open a little wider. It's never all the way closed - that is Mommy's rule. She says her baby boy should never be closed away from her. He likes that rule; he likes having this little line of a road right to his mommy.
But this time - it's not Mommy making the noise. It's his baby.
He has to go check on his baby.
Dash walks carefully down the hallway, making sure there are no more baseballs or tiny army men or those knights and their castle pieces.
Castle pieces.
Dash grins and bounces on his toes as he makes it to his sisters' room. Or well, it's mostly just Ellie's room. Allie is almost never here even though Mommy says she always will be theirs. Allie was his first, and then Ellie's too, when Ellie came-
Oh, well. No. She was Mommy and Daddy's first. Who came and checked on his Allie if she was first?
He don't know. It's too much thinking.
Dash wriggles through the open space of Ellie's door and peeks into the darkness. His baby has a lady bug night light that puts out rainbow stars on the ceiling - blue, purple, green, and red. It's all lit up now, making the sky purple with stars over the crib. Sometimes Mommy leaves music playing for her at night, but Dash can't have any music at all. He would never make his brain stop with music.
The noise again - her baby noises, like clicking and chirping, but not just that. Not this time. If it was just the crickets, Dash would not be awake at a three.
"Ellie," he whispers and comes close to the crib.
She sits up and her mouth curls down, deep down, her eyes shiny and sad.
"Ellie, got bad dream?" he asks her, reaching his fingers through the bars.
Ellery wriggles close and lays her cheek on his palm, her tears getting all over him. He pushes his other arm through the bars and pats her back like Mommy does for him, leaving his arm heavy on her and shushing her, his face pressed against the crib.
"You okay, Ellie."
She makes little noises, small and sad and with more tears in them, and she tries to climb up his arm stuck through the bar.
"You a monkey," he laughs. "Ouch. You hurt mine arm." Dash wriggles his fingers in her belly and she squirms back a little, not hurting so much, but she doesn't let go. That's okay. "I stay with you, baby girl."
"Dash?"
He turns his head and his mommy is standing in the doorway, looking so very tired, but not mad. Not really mad at all. Even though he's out of bed.
Oh...oh, he's broken the rule.
"I had to check on my baby," he says, and he tries to tug his arms back through the crib but Ellie won't let go of him - she's gonna get him in so big trouble.
"Okay," Mommy says, coming forward and running her fingers through his hair, cool and light, just right. "Thank you for checking on your sister, sweet boy. But you don't have to do that."
"She woke me up," he says, lifting his face as Mommy leans over the crib, watching Ellie.
"Sorry, baby," his mommy murmurs, coming back to him and dropping a kiss on his forehead. She smells so good. But then she stands up again and reaches in the crib for Ellie instead of him.
"Mommy," he whispers.
She's got Ellery curled up against her, bouncing a little, but she looks down at him and lifts a hand from his baby sister's back to push through his hair again. Her thumb rubs at his forehead.
"Mommy-"
"Okay, baby," she says, her voice quiet. He breathes and his shoulders slump and Mommy nudges him out of the room. "Come downstairs with me."
"Big bed?" he asks, holding his breath again.
"Yeah. We'll all get in the big bed, but you have to be quiet. Daddy's asleep. He-"
"It's not a nine."
Mommy gives a soft laugh, her hand still cupping his head and nudging him down the hall to the stairs. He likes having Mommy right here, so he lifts his hand and curls his fingers in her pajama pants, pressing his face against her thigh.
"Baby, can't do that on the stairs. Let go or we'll all fall down."
"All the king's horses," Dash sighs and lifts up, goes down the stairs first while Mommy holds open the baby gate for him.
"Hand on the railing, Dash."
"I forgot."
"I know. You're a good forgetter."
He smiles where she can't see, grabs the cool railing and slides down, slowly, step by step, paying attention. Mommy said he has to be smart about the stairs now that he has a baby sister, because sometimes he can't be carried and he'll have to be walking.
Like right now. Mommy can't carry him while she carries Ella. That's okay because Ella had bad dreams and woke him and needs to cuddle up tight with Mommy. Dash has lots of nightmares and gets to cuddle with Mommy a lot and he is okay sharing. Especially because his baby girl doesn't know how to say it - how to tell people she has bad dreams and needs things. So Dash can do that for her. He's a good listener to his baby.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah, sweet boy?"
"It's very early."
She laughs and holds the bottom baby gate open for him. "It is."
"My baby had bad dreams. Sometimes I have bad dreams."
"Yeah, sweetheart." And instead of Mommy pushing him towards the big bed, she squats down and draws her arm around him, so it's him and Ellie together in her hug, and it's better like this - so tight and warm and all three of them. "You're a good brother, my little man."
He closes his eyes and wriggles against his mommy, then she lets him go with a smacking kiss to his mouth.
"Let's go get in the big bed, see if we can't all fall back asleep. It's Saturday and Daddy likes to be lazy bones on Saturday."
"I do too," he whispers, his chest tight. But he doesn't always get to.
Mommy kisses him again, her hand against his cheek, her eyes just right. Not too much. Just right for him.
"You don't have to be a lazy bones like Daddy. You can be like me."
He lets out a long breath and everything is good. It's always good. "Okay. I like you."
She laughs again, and it's all sunshine. "Ellery's already asleep. You and me, baby boy. We'll cuddle in the big bed for as long as it takes. You just might fall asleep. I know you can do it."
He lets Mommy stand back up and takes her hand, following her to the big bed.
And yeah, he could even be sleepy. That could be a true story. A Beckett story.
Kate is still wide awake when she feels Rick murmur and shift in bed. She puts a hand out to his shoulder to keep him from rolling on baby girl, just in case. He cracks open an eyelid at her touch, groans low in his throat.
"What-?"
"Bad dreams," she murmurs. "Both kids in bed with us."
He sighs. "My fault."
"Uh-huh," she agrees, raising an eyebrow. "Told you so. No more of your movies." Jeez, she sounds like her own mother.
Oh. Oh, she sounds like her mother. Wow.
Castle yawns and curls his body around Ellery, the girl dead asleep again, no worse for wear. She watches him for a moment and then he reaches out a hand and skims it over Dashiell's back.
The boy has fallen asleep on top of her, sweaty and heavy, but he's asleep. She doesn't care so long as he can sleep.
"How's the wild man?" Castle murmurs. "Was it bad?"
She quirks her lips into a grin and softly shakes her head. "He got woken up by Ellery I think. I found him in her room, patting her back. It was very sweet."
"He's a sweet kid," Castle says, his eyes sleepy but tender now, probably as tender as her own. "He's a good kid, no matter what."
She nods, biting her bottom lip, and then slowly shifts to one side, turning towards her husband. Dash's little mouth pops open and he snuffles in his sleep, but doesn't wake. His body is heavy on her arm now, but she can at least see the rest of her family.
"It's early. Go back to sleep, Kate."
"I'm trying." Dash isn't her kid for nothing.
She smiles at Rick, reaches across the kids to tangle her hand with his. He squeezes her fingers with his own, watching her, and it fills up her chest, this moment, the four of them, the pre-dawn darkness in the room and how solid and real and good it is.
"Love you," she says, stroking her thumb over his palm.
He just watches her, and even though his mouth opens as if he's going to say it back, he's falling asleep.
She grins in their bedroom, keeps stroking his palm until his eyes are closed.
"Sleep, Castle."
Then she closes her eyes too, determined to follow him.
When Castle wakes up, he's disoriented by the bodies. Lots of bodies. All over him. He lifts his head from the pillow, lying on his stomach, and turns to look at whatever or whoever it is on his back.
The baby has curled up there, her fists at his ribs, her mouth open in sleep, knees bracketting his hips like a little koala. Dashiell is cuddling his father's leg like his thigh is a teddy bear, and then - to his astonishment - Kate is pressed close, her arm thrown over the little one, a knee at Dash's side, as if she's holding them all together.
"Kate," he murmurs, nudging her with his elbow, trying to get her to wake. He glances to the clock - it's nearly nine and this is so not like her. He vaguely remembers waking in the night to see her still awake. "Kate. Babe."
She grunts and stirs, rolls to her back with a sigh that makes him smile. "Don't babe me," she mutters.
"Woke you up, didn't it?"
"You're mean," she growls, but then her mouth is meeting his and her body, warm and sleepy, matches her kiss. "You gonna make me pancakes?"
"You want me to?" he says, hoping she says later. He wants to just lie in bed for a while yet.
"Yeah."
Darn. "You know what that means, right?" He'll have to get up, and Dashiell will wake-
Suddenly her eyes are open and on his, dark, aroused, frustrated, and he reaches out a hand and cups her cheek, brushing a thumb over her skin until that look melts away.
"What was that?" he whispers, that stupid giddy need climbing up in his chest in response.
"I know what pancakes mean," she says back, blinking slowly. "But can't do anything about it with the kids in here though."
He grins and keeps his distance, but he'd like nothing better than to wake her slowly this morning. "Make you earn those pancakes."
She reaches across the sheets and traces a line along his jaw with the tip of her finger, her lashes thick at her cheeks, lifting only barely, as if drugged with it. Want.
Pancakes. Really?
"Really," she murmurs, completely reading his mind. Her thumb nudges his mouth, dips between his lips, and his neck is getting a crick in it from this awkward angle, but the hell he's moving now, when her skin tastes-
"Mommy?"
Darn. Castle sighs and reaches back, his fingers skimming Dashiell's head even as Kate sits up and takes the boy, cuddling him, kissing his cheeks and his temple and his neck.
"I get up now?" Dash says, wriggling in his mother's arms but not really looking like he wants to get down.
Yeah, neither would Castle. Were he so lucky.
"You can get up now," Kate says. "You hungry?"
"We do hot tea?"
"Of course, my beautiful boy."
Castle sighs and gives up on an early morning making out. "You guys go. I'll stay here with baby girl."
Kate smirks at him even as she stands up, Dashiell huddled against her like a pitiful little bird, but his face filled with that secret pleasure of getting his way. Castle knows that look; he has it often enough when he manages to get Kate close too.
They have that in common. He is not jealous of his son.
"You stay here, lazy bones," she murmurs and winks at him as she disappears out the door, ready to start her Saturday.
Castle reaches back and curls his arm around Ellery Kate, grateful to have someone on his side about the sleeping in late thing. The baby rouses only a little as Castle pulls her off his back, laying her next to him and shifting to his side to look at her.
Ella's eyes are open.
"Oh, hey there, baby girl. You were awake?"
She doesn't talk, even though she used to babble, doesn't offer anything back other than the clear and expressive depths of her eyes. So very blue. She reminds him, in personality, of Kate. But those eyes.
She is her own little person. Even at only twenty months old, she is her own person.
"Wanna sleep in with me?" he whispers and tugs her into him to kiss her cheek.
She giggles and curls a baby hand at his neck, nuzzles in close.
"Good girl. We'll sleep until they come back and drag us out of bed."
Her head lifts to look at him, something proud and defiant there, but also something adoring. She doesn't even need the words. He knows.
He has a little girl again, a baby girl, and she already looks at him like he hung the moon, shined the stars.
"You and me, cricket," he murmurs, painting her cheeks with kisses. "Love you all the ways."