10 WEEKS


208 Days To Go (Timestamp: June 28, 2013)

It's a familiar sight these days, finding her hunched over the toilet bowl, her slender body wrecked with the spasms of dry heaving. He wets a wash cloth with cold water, sinks down next to her. They are long past feeling any embarrassment in that situation. Stroking her hair off her forehead first, he wipes the beads of sweat off her skin, before he cradles the wash cloth behind her neck. Her head falls back against the relief of the cool fabric and she closes her eyes on a sigh, sinks against his chest.

He doesn't remember it being so hard. The mood swings, the morning sickness - which should really be called evening sickness in her case - everything is a strain on her and while she takes most of it in stride, he struggles with the fact that there is so little he can do to help her. If he could take on any of her symptoms for her, he would do it in a heartbeat, but he can only sit by and he feels so helpless all the time.

The entire process seemed so much more of a breeze with Alexis, and it makes him wonder if Meredith just didn't have as many symptoms, or if he was too young and stupid to truly understand what he needed to do, to be there for her. How much did he mess up their relationship as well, not supporting his wife at the time as much as she would've deserved? He isn't sure, he simply cannot recall enough details, but he hopes that he is a better man now, tries to be good for Kate, attentive and anticipatory of her needs, because he cannot fathom Kate feeling alone in any of this.

He did this to her.

"What was it this time?" He asks, running his fingertips through her hair, caressing her scalp in the way that she likes, slow comforting circles, his nails just slightly scratching.

"The Chinese food," she moans, tilts her face up and blinks her eyes open. "Baby hates Chinese food. It's my favorite, Castle!" There is such despair in her voice that he can't help but chuckle, just a little bit, at the dramatic flair, all the while strumming his fingers down the ridges of her spine. The corners of her mouth quirk up in a minuscule smile.

"'S not funny, Castle!" She pokes his chest admonishingly but belying her actions, she snuggles her face into the curve of his neck, and he feels her body slump, relax into the protective embrace he provides.

This is what he can do for her. Give her comic relief, and hold her up when she needs it.

He sure hopes it is enough.


"You need to eat something," he urges, sliding a plate with a piece of dry toast in front of her. He's done research, believes she might be able to keep this down and surely she must be hungry because she is always starving in the evenings.

"I can't," she murmurs, pushes the plate away.

He sighs. He knows she's lost a few pounds, and shouldn't she be gaining weight? He can't keep the worry from climbing through him all over again, harsh and cloying in his throat.

"But Kate, the baby…" He knows it's the wrong thing the moment the words leave his lips.

"I know what's best for the baby, Castle!" She snaps, pushes her chair back and its legs screech along the floor as she gets up. "Stop treating me like a child!" She stalks past him, rushes to the bedroom and slams the door behind her.


She finds him a little while later as he is hunched over the desk in his office, the latest Nikki Heat outline open on his laptop but he cannot concentrate on the fictitious character's adventures, instead just clicks through random pages on the Internet. She stops next to his chair, cards her fingers through his hair, and he looks up at her.

"Dried papaya," he blurts out. "It says here that it really helps with the nausea. I'll go and buy you some of that," he rambles on while she keeps caressing his head, her fingers trailing down over his cheek.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she sighs, smiles at him with a sadness that makes his heart lurch. He tugs an arm around her waist, pulls her toward him and rests his face against her belly, nudges his nose into the barely visible mound.

She cradles her arms around his head, holding him close. "I hate being this moody."

But he shakes his head, no, no, lifts his head away to pull her onto his lap instead. She comes willingly and he wraps his arms around her as she perches on his legs, tugs her close against his chest.

"You're having a baby. You get to be as moody as you like!" He announces categorically because seriously, what her body, what she has to go through to do this, who is he to have an issue with any of it? He can't even imagine how hard, how confusing, how scary it might feel. His writer's imagination runs amok with scenarios and yet he doesn't know, he is not a woman, he really has no clue and he feels so helpless not knowing how best to provide for her. But he wants, needs her to know with absolute certainty that she gets to feel whatever she feels without ever feeling guilty.

She chuckles at his statement but then she goes quiet again, and her sigh dances across his cheek.

"It can be so… overwhelming," she tries to explain, her voice wistful and he nods, tugs her closer, breathes in her familiar, comforting scent.

Kate trails her fingers over his cheek, then cradles his chin between her fingertips, tilting his head toward her.

"I'm okay, Rick; we are okay, baby and I. It's not unusual to actually lose some weight at first, I checked with my doctor, and I'm able to eat more for breakfast and lunch. We're fine." She seeks out his eyes, looks at him seriously, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But this is scary enough without you questioning me," she admits softly, and his heart lurches at her honesty, at the concern and sorrow in her eyes.

"Oh god Kate I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He feels like an idiot, putting even more pressure on her when she is just as scared and oh god why is she scared? But his thoughts are cut short because suddenly her mouth is on his and she kisses him, her lips soft and forgiving and her tongue hot and needy as it seeks his. He opens to her; his blood tingling like it always does at her touch and she delves into him, full of longing and love and forgiveness and depth.

"You… are… wonderful," she promises against his lips, punctuating her words with kisses before she leans her forehead against his, and he shivers against her, snuggles her close into his arms, relief spreading through his limbs that she seems to be feeling well taken care of by him.

He turns her around after a little while until they both face his laptop, and hits a few keys.

"Let's watch it again," he murmurs into her ear and she nods with a smile. He hits play and the 3D animation of a ten week old fetus that they must've already watched a hundred times begins anew. The baby bends its little elbows and knees, kicking up a storm. The animation focuses in, shows its tiny organs growing, functioning, then zooms back out. They see the tiny fingers, no longer like fins, and eyelids, and ears, and nostrils. Another zoom and they are shown teensy fingernails, and soft peach fuzz developing on baby's skin. And like every time they watch this, his heart hammers as he imagines Amelia swimming and growing inside Kate. He rests his hand on her belly, hopes baby can feel his warmth, his love soaking through.

Kate hangs on tightly to his torso; he can feel her heart hammering through her pulse point.

"We can be scared together, Kate," he urges, hopes he can give her the reassurances she needs. "I'll always be there." She turns toward him, her eyes shimmery and trusting.

"And you'll be an amazing mother."


206 Days To Go (Timestamp: June 30, 2013)

"Ugh, I miss coffee," she groans on a yawn, dropping her head into the cradle of her arms on top of the kitchen table.

Yeah, he can relate. He had bought her decaf coffee immediately, once they knew she was pregnant, so she could at least enjoy the beloved flavor if not the jolt of caffeine, but shortly after their first ultrasound, the morning sickness had hit her full swing, starting with, of all things, the scent of coffee. He had locked away all coffee and they were sipping their way through variations of tea instead, with questionable success. Some flavors were admittedly tasty, but there is just no replacing the bitter allure of a good cup of coffee.

"Tea?" He asks her anyway, trailing his fingers along her exposed neck for a short moment and she shivers under his touch.

"Yeah," she sighs dramatically and he heads further into the kitchen, grabbing the vanilla and almond-flavored white tea that is her current favorite.

He's tired as well. Last night he took her to the theater, and when they came home, he had undressed her slowly, trailed his fingers and rained kisses up and down her beautiful body, caressed her soft skin, her breasts that were getting larger, her belly that was now showing just slightly when she was naked. Over and over until she quivered and arched under his touch and then he made love to her, languid and intense until his name fell off her lips in strangled, breathless moans.

"What would you like for breakfast?" He bends down, already reaching for the skillet.

"Eggs and fried potatoes and lots of cheese!" She answers excitedly, a sparkle in her eyes at the prospect of her feast and he grins at her fairly constant craving of all things fried and cheese.

He puts a couple of potatoes in the microwave to cook, then grabs eggs and three different grated cheeses from the fridge. At least it is Sunday, he thinks as he cracks eggs into a bowl, starts whipping them. They can just hang out today, maybe have a nap later. Since she had to inform Gates of her pregnancy a few weeks ago, after she spent a few mornings in a row throwing up in the precinct bathroom, she has been put on desk duty, which includes regular eight to five work hours and never being on call. Kate doesn't have an easy time being chained to her desk, having to send the boys out on their own, but he loves getting so much time with her and truth be told, he thinks she loves it too.

The knock on the door startles him out of his reverie.

"I'll get it." Kate gets up, heads for the door and pulls it open.

"Alexis, hey." She greets the girl, surprised but not unpleasantly so, and he looks up, makes eye contact with his daughter. She smiles a small smile, tentative and apologetic as she steps inside.

The truth is, he is disappointed in his daughter, for probably the first time in his life. He was so excited telling her about the baby, about the sibling she would have, so thrilled to share his happiness with his amazing child, the way he always shares everything exciting with her but instead of the enthusiasm he had expected, Alexis had been shocked, and rather cold about the news. He never expected that and it jarred him to the bone.

It was Kate that had talked him through it, like she so often had over the years, helping him see a different perspective when he reached his limits. Saying how Alexis only ever had him as a true parent, and that they shared an intense bond that she would now fear she would have to share, might fear she would lose altogether. That his daughter deserved some time to adjust to the news of suddenly getting a sibling, just as they had needed time to adjust to being parents. That he shouldn't worry because she would come around, he'd see.

And so they had just not talked about the baby for a while, he and Alexis, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt him, deep inside.

Alexis breaks the eye contact first, focusing on Kate once more. "How are you feeling?" She asks quietly, still tentative but there is no unkindness in her voice, only interest and hushed concern. That is the child he recognizes, and he subconsciously takes a deep breath, slow relief spreading along his skin like a soothing balm.

"I'm fine," Kate answers brightly, as if there never was any discontent, while she reaches for Alexis' hand, squeezes it tightly. He can see his daughter reacting to the unspoken comfort, unfurling as if liberated from a large weight, and her face blossoms in a true smile, that beautiful, wide smile that has always warmed his heart.

"Good," she sighs, quiet but content. They are silent for a few moments, the three of them, letting the fresh dynamic settle.

"I brought you something," Alexis finally picks up the thread of conversation, producing a large box, gift-wrapped in pink sparkly paper from a plastic bag she had brought with, and hands it to Kate.

"Dad told me about the way you let him know about the baby," she narrates while Kate slides off the ribbon and unfolds the gift-wrap from the box. "So I got you this."

Kate digs into the box, grinning widely as she finds what is housed inside, and pulls it out with a flourish.

"Castle, look!" She calls in his direction without taking her eyes of the gift. "It's a Cabbage Patch Kid!" She holds up the squishy doll for all of them to see, its baby face all fat cheeks and big eyes, with curly brown wool as hair sticking straight up on top of its head.

He finally shakes himself out of his reverie, walks over to them, taking in both the doll and his daughter.

"She's got brown hair, like both of you," Alexis explains, watching Kate closely while the older woman takes in the gift. "And I gave her green eyes, like yours, Kate."

Kate shifts her eyes to Alexis, smiles at her so soft and warm that Castle can feel his heart warm, melting the dagger of ice that had been stuck in it ever since Alexis had rejected his happiness.

"Thank you, Alexis. I absolutely love it." Kate wraps her arms around the younger woman, tugging her into a tight embrace for a few moments and Alexis' eyes close; he can see his daughter soaking up the warm comfort given to her. He can relate. There is no comfort that compares to being in Kate's arms. When they pull apart, Alexis shifts her eyes toward him.

"I named her Amelia Peabody," she admits shyly, pointing to the nametag that dangles from the doll's chubby arms. And warmth rushes through him at his amazing child, who had listened to every word he had said even when she was upset, who had remembered and who was trying to make amends, trying to be a part of this new family they are becoming. He wraps his arms around her and she falls against him, her slender arms tight around his torso as she clings to him, sniffles "I'm sorry Daddy" against his chest.

"I'm sorry too," he murmurs, runs his hands up and down her back in comforting strokes. Over Alexis' shoulder he looks up at Kate, who is watching him with her warm 'I told you so' expression, her eyes full of pride… and love.


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By week ten, your baby is a little over 2 inches long, about the size of a lime, and weighs about a quarter of an ounce. Your baby's head makes up half the length of the body. Vital organs — including her brain, kidneys, intestines, lungs, and liver — are in place and starting to function. Your baby's limbs can bend now. His hands are flexed at the wrist and meet over his heart, and his feet may be long enough to meet in front of his body. The baby is actively swallowing amniotic fluid and kicking her legs.

Tiny nails are forming on fingers and toes (no more webbing) and peach-fuzz hair is beginning to grow on tender skin. Her eyes are fully formed, but her eyelids are fused shut. She has tiny earlobes, and her mouth, nose, and nostrils are more distinct. (See 'Babycenter dot com' and 'American Pregnancy Association' newsletters)

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