An elbow to the gut serves as his alarm clock, and it leaves him groaning into the pillow as his knees draw up into a defensive position. He's disorientated, confused, too close to sleep to make sense of his surroundings and when he uncurls his legs to try and stretch them out he's met with a wall of resistance. Wood and fluff and plastic eyes. Mollie's – why is he… oh. Mollie.
"Kate?" It comes back to him in bits and pieces. Waking up to her not in bed, finding her here. Had they meant to fall asleep? He can't remember. But it must have been his wife scrambling over him that had left him with an aching stomach. She's always had pointy elbows, something that she passed onto Mollie, and he's always the one getting mauled by them. How many bruises to his rib cage over the years? He's lost count. Not that he cares right now, not when the phone outside in the hall is ringing and she's tripping over her own feet trying to reach it.
"Hello? Yeah, speaking." There's a tension filled pause where she listens to the guy on the other hand, and his heart is beating so fast against his rib cage he's certain it might break. "You found her?" Oh. Oh, thank – "Not exactly? What does that mean?" He's up on his feet now, ignoring the twinge in his right knee and the ache in his left hip and walking as he possibly can towards Kate. She's cradling the headset to the curve of her cheek so tight he's surprised it's not cracked. There's fear in her eyes, he knows that look far too well (though he wishes he didn't), but there's also that glimmer of hope. They can do something. "You know when she is. Right. We're going to get her." There's an angry burst of chatter, warning her against it, but he already knows that Kate isn't going to pay attention. They're going to get their daughter back. "No, I don't give a crap about protocol. I'm an NYPD Detective, she is my daughter, and we are going to go and get her whether you join us or not."
Kate hangs up, and then turns to him with a look of mischievousness in her eyes. "You might want to pack a bag."
Ow. Oh, pointy elbow. That's going to bruise. He sits up rubbing sleep out of his eyes in the dim morning light, his back complaining at the weird angle he fell asleep in. Was it the elbow waking him up? No. No, that's his phone going. One quick glance tells him it's Beckett, and he's tempted to just ignore it. Not today, Kate. Please, not today. But he can't help himself. "Beckett?"
"I was just… ringing up to check on everything. I'm sorry – I've woken you up. I'll – um, maybe speak to you later?"
"Yeah. Maybe. See you later." And then he's hanging up without a proper goodbye, and he hates himself for feeling guilty. This isn't his fault. It's not his doing. She lied. Not him. He pushes the phone back onto the bedside and lies back down, aiming for more sleep and to wake up at a more human hour. But that's when everything becomes that little more clearer in his barely awake state.
"Is it breakfast time?" the voice is whispered, as if she's scared of breaking the nervous silence that surrounds them.
"Hm?"
"Breakfast. I'm hungry. Can we have pancakes?" The mop of her brown hair obscures his vision, arms pressing down on his rib cage. She's the one with the pointy elbows. Of course. Beckett elbows. He'd recognise them anywhere. Whatever seems to have upset her in the night is clearly no longer an issue. She seems as right as rain, bright eyed and looking at him like she's going to cause all sorts of trouble.
"Pancakes. Yeah. Sure. You'll have to get off of me though."
She's off him in a heartbeat, tiny feet making the bed shake and then she jumps to the floor and makes a dash for the kitchen. It takes him a while to actually force himself up off of the mattress, stumbles around for far to long in trying to find his dressing gown and a warm pair of socks, and by the time he joins his daughter who isn't his daughter she's already pulling the mixing bowl, and the fry pan out of the cupboards.
"You do this a lot?"
"Pancakes?"
"Drag stuff out of cupboards."
"You always take forever to get out of bed. So I help. Also I do the mixing. You do the cooking. I'm too young. Mum says when I'm ten she'll show me how to make waffles."
"Okay. Okay, you know how to make the pancake batter?" He shouldn't be leaving this with a five year old, but he's not thinking straight, and the girl seems to know what she's doing well enough.
Mollie is already tugging the milk out of the fridge and placing it by her feet. Soon followed by eggs, and then the flour. "I can do it. You don't have my table though."
"What?"
"I have my own table. Smaller. I can reach it. But you don't have it yet."
"The… you can use the coffee table. I'm… going to go for a really quick shower. Just to wake up. You'll be okay?"
"I promise not to do anything stupid. I already know. My memory is better than yours." She offers him a wide grin, one that is part Beckett, and one that he sees in Alexis on occasions and he's not entirely sure how to feel about it.
"My memory is perfectly fine, thank you. Don't be cheeky. And please don't make too much of a mess."
Mollie presses the bowl of the wooden spoon she's plucked from a jar to her forehead. "Aye, aye, sir."
The couple who had Jumped in the park are at the TTA when they get there almost an hour later. They're only young, college age, she's guessing, and the woman looks absolutely heart-broken about it. Rushes up to them with an expression torn apart by grief.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We had no idea she would be there. We checked that there wasn't anyone in the area but she must have appeared so quickly – we didn't – we never meant for anything to happen to her."
Kate breezes past her without so much of an acknowledgement, leaving whatever the two has to say to her husband. She's too emotional, she's too unforgiving, and Castle is better at dealing with this. Kate's eyes are solely on the sergeant whose staring at a paper read out and muttering under his breath. "Where is she?"
"April, twenty twelve. We should have a more approximate date in about ten minutes."
"You don't know? I thought – you said you knew."
"Kate, you know this process isn't exactly precise. We asked Derek and Jane and they said they hadn't set an actual date. They just went back to that month. They never checked what date they actually Jumped to. But we can work it out. Just be patient."
"I-"
"Kate…" Castle's hand wraps around her bicep, tugs her away from the TTA official. "No use starting a fight."
She follows him, only slightly reluctantly, back to the array of tables that Castle has thrown all their stuff on. Jane is standing with her hands clasped in front of her, looking like she wants to spend the entire ten minutes they have to wait apologising profusely. Kate's not sure she wants to hear it, so she digs Dragon out of the front pocket of the backpack and sits there, fingers playing across the soft velvet of his head. She doesn't care about apologies. Doesn't care if they're sorry or not. Being sorry won't bring her daughter back free from harm.
"Where is she?" he asks, as soon as she's settled.
"April, twenty twelve." She reiterates, something unnerving settling in her chest. "Not the best time for us."
"We don't even know if past us are involved." Castle replies, keeping his voice low so the sergeant doesn't hear them. More than enough horror stories about people meeting their past selves. "They'll be okay."
"You sure? I think a five year old turning up at the doorstep would put a pretty big dent in whatever was left of whatever relationship we had."
"Well…"
"I don't know what this will do to us. I don't know, and I'm scared that it's going to ruin our future. That Mollie wouldn't be here, and I… I'd be…"
"You'd be?"
"I'd be dead. I would be dead because when I was hanging off that roof the only thing I had to hold on to was you. It was always you. If that – if I didn't – if I thought that it was over, that what we had was done, I'd be six feet under the ground with a gravestone as a pillow."
"This is against all protocol." Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Maybe the TTA have a special task force that deals with this kind of mishap, but Kate Beckett doesn't give a damn. "The only reason we're even letting you go is because of the amount of money you've put into this project."
"I don't care whether we put one dollar in. We'd go anyway."
"That I don't doubt. But at least this way you won't be arrested on your return." The sergeant means well, Kate knows. He's met Mollie so many times and he's just as concerned for the girls whereabouts as she is. But his job is also important, keeping people safe, keeping the technology they use at the TTA under control. If it wasn't them, if she wasn't an NYPD Detective and trained for any number of situations, the sergeant's feelings on this would be a whole lot different. It's only Castle's promise of more money to his boss that has him stopping from joining them. "Have you got everything?"
Castle has everything. Spare clothes for all three of them. Dragon. He has Dragon. The stuffed toy probably isn't necessary, it's not like she's planning on staying long when they find her. Certainly not long enough to warrant Mollie needing him to sleep. She hopes not anyway. Her husband comes up behind her, backpack swung over his shoulder, his gaze steely and determined.
"There's enough power in the Jumpers for five days. If you're not back by then we're stepping in."
"Fine."
"We're aiming to drop you relatively close to where she was, but you know there's no guarantees you'll end up in the right place."
"Yes, yes, we've been through this before."
"Don't do-"
"-anything stupid, and don't go looking for your past selves. Yes, I know." Kate interrupts, even though she's lying straight through her teeth. But he doesn't need to know that."Can we just go?"
He glares at her, but she gives as good as she gets, and eventually he sighs, followed closely by a single nod of the head."Five days. That's it."
He stops close to Castle, says something that Kate can't hear and then claps him on the back. Then he's gone, the pressurised door closing behind him with a soft hiss. Castle comes up behind her, threads his fingers through hers. She's angry, she's angry at Jane and Derek for being so completely and utterly reckless for Jumping in a public place. It's not exactly illegal, it's not like she can arrest them for it, but the TTA have always said they'd prefer it if people jumped in the safety in their own homes, where walls can stop anyone being caught in the crossfire.
"Jumping in ten, nine…"
"You ready?"
She nods, giving his hand a squeeze before he lets go. "six, five…" Can't have any physical contact with anyone during a Jump. Plans go awry, technology fails, and sometimes neither of you end up in the same place. The notion is similar to splinching, and even though TTA has their own technical term for it, every tends to refer to it as doing a Ron Weasley. No contact. Dragon safely in the backpack. Castle right behind her. She can feel his breath on her neck. "three, two…"
Kate takes a breath, lets it out slowly.
"One…"
It's not the first time she's done this, won't be the last, but she still hates the way it feels like she's shrinking into herself. She squeezes her eyes closed ignores the sound of white noise as it invades her senses, tickles her skin and assaults her ears, she can taste the energy on her lips. And then there's nothing, just for a moment, before she stumbles to a halt, falling to her knees. One knee lands on grass, soft damp mud that stains her jeans but the other hits concrete and she hisses as it scrapes her skin. She swears through it, low and under her breath, scouting her surroundings to see where Castle had gotten to. Only a few meters away, bent over with his arms on his knees. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just – knocks it out of you. Give me a minute."
She places a reassuring hand on his back until he straightens up, his back cracking in a rather alarming manner. "Central park. Early spring."
"Yeah. We made it."
