When a middle-aged man and young woman came bursting through the lobby doors of New York Presbyterian Hospital, Castle's first thought was that the man could possibly be Johanna Beckett's husband. The guy was dressed casually, but sporting an Omega Speedmaster Professional on his left wrist—a sure sign of wealth if Castle ever saw one. Johanna had mentioned to the paramedic while in the back of the ambulance that she worked as a civil rights attorney. If her husband held a similarly affluent sort of job, it would definitely explain the high-end watch. Those things weren't cheap at all. He would know.
The girl, however...he couldn't imagine that they'd have a daughter this girl's age. Now, he didn't exactly catch a look at her face, and it was currently obscured by a fake Christmas tree still sitting out near the reception desk, but she was tall. Probably would stand taller than the man beside her if those long legs of hers didn't end with a pair of Converse and were instead sporting some strappy heels.
Okay, eyes off the legs, Rick. Snap out of it and focus.
Really though, Johanna had to be somewhere in her forties, right? And this girl—what he could see of her, anyway—well, admittedly he'd never been very good at the whole guessing ages thing, and as such knew much better than to presume a woman's age, thanks mostly in part to awkward situations with his own mother and the company of theatre divas she called friends. He used to guess and ask the ages of those ladies when he was a kid, and it never once ended well for him...
But, okay, he was stupidly presuming ages again and at first glance, the girl looked much too old to be the daughter that Johanna had spoken of. Or maybe Johanna was older than he thought she was. Hell, he had no clue.
Once he heard the name "Johanna Beckett" slip out of the man's mouth at the reception desk though, he had to figure that Johanna either looked really young for her age, or her daughter's height and maybe even the way she was dressed—black leather jacket, skinny dark wash denim jeans, and dark brown hair tossed up into a messy bun—just made her seem older.
Because after the nurse asked them to wait a moment, and as Castle stood up and called out to them, the girl turned and he saw her face for the first time and god, she was gorgeous. But young, definitely still young, with the face of an angel.
Breathtaking though. She was simply breathtaking.
He'd only managed an "Excuse me, sir" before he stumbled on his words from the way the beautiful specimen of the female gender now stared him down, eyeing him strangely. Was it...did she recognize him, or was she just gaping at him because her mother was off God knows where in this hospital right now?
"I...you're..." Geez, Rick, pull yourself together. "You're her family. Johanna Beckett's."
"Yes," the man replied. "Johanna's my wife. I'm Jim. Jim Beckett. And you're...?"
"I- Rick. My name is Rick. I called you. She asked me to call you."
Jim looked him over warily and Castle felt severely uncomfortable with the scrutiny until her voice broke through the tension.
"You saved her? My mom."
Oh. Oh, it matched her face perfectly, the soft, angelic tone of her words, even if they were broken and laced with fear and worry. The face and voice of an angel, this girl.
The fatherly side of him almost wanted to grab her and hug her and assure her that her mother would pull through. But this girl had her own father here and her eyes held a fire inside. She might be young but she was strong. He could see that, and that's what her mother said, wasn't it? That she was strong. Vulnerable, terribly scared right now, but strong. It made him think of his own daughter, how she might feel were he rushed to the hospital and she was unsure of his condition. She was only five but Alexis was such a smart kid. So intelligent and intuitive...Alexis would be okay, right? And she'd have his mother there. Like this little family. Johanna had a little family just like he did, too.
"I tried to-" Shit. No. That sounded horrific. Like he was about to tell them that she'd already been declared deceased. The girl—Katie. That's what Johanna said her name was—looked stricken at his initial words, and it scared him. He didn't want her to cry. He wouldn't know what to do if he made her cry, so he hastily tried to explain and could only hope that the words rushing out of his mouth were sufficient.
"I saw him sneak up on her and I didn't think- But he had a knife and I wasn't fast enough. He still struck her but I called 911 and she made me call you. She begged me to call and I'm sorry. They took her back to surgery and I'm so sorry."
Johanna's husband swallowed hard at a lump in his throat and it was easy to see the tears of gratitude welled up in his eyes. His head nodded and he threw out his hand to grasp Castle's, his grip firm in a strong handshake. It stung beneath the bandage the EMT gave him after fixing him up, the cut across his hand a painful reminder of the evening's events, but he didn't care. This was far more important. The least he could do was be here for this woman's family while she was fighting for her life.
"Thank you, Rick. I can't tell you how grateful I am for what you've done."
Castle wasn't entirely sure how to respond. 'No problem' or 'Was my pleasure' would have been both wildly inappropriate and a total lie. He had been terrified. But he couldn't just stand there and do nothing. If he had, this man would have lost his wife. Their daughter would have lost her mother. A tragedy like that would wreck havoc on such a little family. Their lives would be forever changed and never the same again with such a gaping wound inflicted upon them. It was a void you could never refill.
But all Castle could manage through the thoughts swirling in his head was a simple nod of his head, a recognition of the man's gratitude for his act of bravery tonight.
Oh, how he wished none of it had happened at all though. He'd take back his moment of heroism and any glory the media was sure to lavish on him once word got out to the press, if only so that this girl—Katie. Her name is Katie, Rick—wouldn't look so sad and scared.
"Mr. Beckett?" came the voice of the nurse at the reception desk and immediately the man turned his attention to her. His daughter followed suit, but not without a lingering look and a simple question thrown over her shoulder first.
"You're staying?"
Castle's throat bobbed, but he didn't even think about it before answering.
"Yes."
She nodded her head in what he hoped was a show of approval, and the beautiful young woman followed after her father.
He sat across from her in the waiting room but got up and settled down beside her when her father headed down the hall to grab a coffee. He had shared a glance with the older man as Jim stood up and announced where he was going, and Castle understood the message loud and clear: Look after her for me.
She'd been shaking like a leaf in her chair since a doctor came out to update them on Johanna's condition a little while before. She was trying to hide it by bouncing her leg up and down on the ball of her foot, as if it was just a sign of restlessness from too much sitting, but he saw through the gesture. She was nervous, and she had every right to be. Her mother was just stabbed in a seedy alleyway in a shady part of the city barely an hour ago and surgeons were still working to repair the damage she had sustained.
But Johanna Beckett's daughter seemed much like her mother. Fierce and brave in the face of unspeakable tragedy. He hadn't even seen her shed a tear yet, even if he had seen her eyes glistening a few times before she stubbornly willed the moisture away, never allowing even a single tear drop to fall. It was a stark contrast to the emotions he'd watched her father go through since they'd arrived. Jim had struck him as a quiet, very sensitive sort of fellow, and his daughter appeared so, too, in some ways. The only difference being she didn't willingly show any sign of weakness. She kept her emotions in check at every turn and she didn't flinch. At all.
"Your name is Katie, right? She told me she had a daughter named Katie. Is that you?"
Or maybe she only flinched under the right circumstances. Wow. She seemed surprised to find him speaking to her. Shocked that he knew her name.
"I- Yeah. But I um...I go by Kate, mostly."
Kate. Yeah. He could see that. It suited her better.
"Kate then. Well, it's nice to meet you, Kate Beckett. I'm—"
"I know who you are, Mr. Castle," she replied quickly, and if he wasn't mistaken, there was a slight flush of her cheeks to boot just before she ducked her head. Adorable. So...she was a fan of his? Then again, she could have just seen him in the papers. God knows he'd had his share of public displays of stupidity recently.
"I hope my reputation precedes me for something good I've written and nothing questionable I've done," he said back with a nervous grin, and lo and behold...a smile. She gave him a beautiful upturn of her lips. No teeth, but he'd take it. It was a step in the right direction.
"Maybe a little of both," she admitted, smile still firmly in place. "You're the star of Page Six recently."
Ah. Well, as much as he'd love to blame it on catching now ex-wife Meredith in bed with her director and their ensuing divorce, that was almost a year ago now, and their divorce was made final two months ago. No one left to blame but himself for his recent antics and stupidity landing his mug in the papers. Or behind bars for the night.
"So, dare I ask, are you a fan of my works of fiction...or a follower of other nonfiction I've been involved in?"
And there was the tinge of pink on her cheeks again, this time coupled with her sliding a loose lock of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. God, she was really cute.
"My mom gave me a couple of your books when I left for Stanford in the fall," she said quietly, a little shy even.
So that was how Johanna knew him. She'd bought some of his books for Kate. He hoped her shyness about his books meant that she liked them. And Stanford? So she wasn't that young. She was in college. A freshman then? May as well ask.
"Wow. Stanford, huh? That's pretty far away. Your first year there?" Kate nodded and god, even if she was an adult, he still felt like an old man in comparison. There had to be at least a decade of an age gap between them if she was only a college freshman. His college days were long behind him now.
"I've read them both, by the way. They were good."
And then the tables turned. She had him feeling a little nervous and exposed. Why did her approval strike so much feeling within him?
"Which ones?"
"Flowers For Your Grave and Hell Hath No Fury."
He startled her with his bark of laughter and had to quickly apologize when he saw her frowning. Geez, even the irritated furrow of her brow was cute.
"Sorry. I'm sorry. It's just that usually 'good' and Hell Hath No Fury don't usually go in the same sentence when people are talking about that particular book of mine."
Kate appeared thoughtful for a moment and shifted in her seat a little. When did her leg stop that nervous bounce anyway?
"I liked it," she huffed quietly, and dare he think it, but she seemed a little defensive about it, too. Wow. She liked one of his books that much?
"Well, I'm happy to hear that. Thank you, Miss Beckett," he smiled.
She frowned at him again.
"I don't mind being called Beckett, but if you're gonna address me by my surname, at least drop the 'Miss'. I'm not a little kid, Mr. Castle."
Oh. Well then. She had a bit of a feisty side to her, didn't she?
"Yeah? Well, 'Mr. Castle' makes me feel old. I'm only twenty-eight, I'll have you know."
"Well, I'm nineteen. That is old."
"Ouch. You wound me, Lady Beckett."
She laughed heartily at his horrible attempt at a regal, British accent before suggesting, "How about we just drop the honorifics altogether, huh?"
"As you wish," he replied, his terrible accent even thicker this time.
"And the accents!" she said on another little laugh, and this time when she smiled, she was beaming. Radiantly. Teeth showing, cheeks uplifted. The works.
It made him grin wildly.
She was amazing, this girl. So bright and young and witty. And cute. So cute. And that smile, her laugh. Happiness looked so much better on her than that mask of fear and uncertainty she'd been concealed behind only moments before. He wanted to keep the radiant smile on her, and bottle up some of her happiness so that she'd never be sad again.
"Katie," her father called out to her, his voice harsh, and it's only then that the pair realized that he must have been calling out to her several times before that and they hadn't noticed a thing. Lost in their little bubble of conversation.
"Sorry, Dad," she apologized sheepishly to her father.
Jim was standing by a door a little ways away from the reception desk and waving her over, and his daughter somewhat jumped in her seat with the realization that her mother must be out of surgery.
Kate Beckett stood quickly but she looked back at her companion, Rick Castle, her eyes flicking down to the soft smile on his face and back up to his eyes again. "You'll be here?" she asked, the hope in her voice undisguised.
And for some reason, he couldn't fathom saying no to her. Couldn't before, definitely couldn't now.
Because this girl...Kate. Kate wanted him here. And he couldn't possibly refuse her. Not because her mother was in the hospital, not because she was so damn cute and fun to talk to, but just...
Castle stood up beside her, nodded his head in affirmation. "I'll be here."
Her smile lit up her face and then she was stepping up on her toes, leaning in to wrap her arms around him tightly in a quick hug.
"Thank you, Castle," she murmured close to his ear. The warmth of her voice caressing his bare skin made him tremble inside.
Castle stood stock still until she pulled away, but then she surprised him again. He had a feeling it was going to be a regular occurrence with this girl.
"For the record," she teased, a glimpse of her tongue showing between her teeth as she took backward steps away from him. "I don't really think you're old at all."
And with one last smile for him, she disappeared behind the doors, and then Rick Castle understood. He couldn't refuse her because in the span of an hour, the daughter of the woman he saved tonight had managed to capture his heart. Hook, line, sinker.
