Attachment Syndrome
Chapter 9:
"Castle?"
He turns his head, surprised, and finds Kate standing in the doorway to his office.
"You're back early," he observes.
"You're…naked." He laughs. "Top naked," she corrects.
"Holding time," he offers when she doesn't move, just staring at him there on the couch with Josie on his chest in just her diaper. "She's asleep," he adds. "'Bout five minutes into me reciting One Fish, Two Fish, she just passed out."
"I'm sure she was comfy," Kate says, bobbing her head.
"Something you needed, Beckett?" he prompts with a grin. She's ogling him. Actually…like really ogling him, but with a hint of tenderness too. It's the baby. She just melts your heart, rock hard abs—okay, semi rock—it's the baby.
"Oh," she says, shaking her head and meeting his eyes. "Yeah. Did I leave those files in here?"
"Files?"
"On the McUsic case," she says, moving over to his desk to shuffle through the mass of papers—half his, half hers, and a whole lot of disorganized.
"They might be on the counter? You were looking at them before you left, when you fed Josie," he recounts. "Any leads?"
"Yeah. McUsic was killed with a time release poison," she says as she tries to replace the papers as she found them.
"Really?" he asks, excited. "That's awesome."
"Awesome, really, Castle?"
"Come on, that's so much cooler than Cyanide in the coffee. You have to give me that one."
"I have to get back to work," she says, rolling her eyes. "You guys good?"
He sighs, a little put out to get so little on the case, but Johanne shifts on his chest, and he figures, of the two of them, he definitely has the better end of the stick. "Yeah, we're good. We're gonna go to the park around three, I think. Try and make that our outing time this week. I kept skipping around last week as we were getting your stuff over here."
"Could you make it one?" she asks, staring at them again. "I mean, not today, obviously, but shoot for that?"
"Sure," he says slowly, watching as she shifts on her feet, her red trench still pulled tight, all dressed for work, but looking a little longing at the same time.
"I usually manage to get lunch—you know this," she says, waving it off. "Might be able to meet you guys some days."
"Of course. Yeah, we can do one tomorrow. Definitely," he says immediately. She wants to meet up with them. She wants to see Johanne, he corrects in his head. But he's not bad company either.
She smiles, her eyes soft. "Great. Okay. I'll just—" she gestures to the kitchen.
"Go, go," he encourages, relaxing back with Josie. "We'll just finish our holding time, won't we, bug?"
He hears Kate hum quietly before leaving his office, and doesn't fight the smile that stretches across his face.
It may be two-thirds baby, but she definitely checked him out for a minute there.
(…)
"Okay, Josie," he says as he straps her into the brand new stroller that came the day before. "We've got diapers, bottles, formula, a hat for you, socks, pacifier, burp cloth, sunglasses for me and," he spins around, looking for his phone. "Ah ha," he says in triumph as he spots it on the counter. "And a way to text mommy all the cute things you do."
Johanne gurgles up at him, taking in her new surroundings. It's a gorgeous stroller, the price of which he can never, ever tell Kate. Red, with three adjustable settings for the baby as she grows, enormous shock proof wheels, and a good little bonnet to keep her from getting too much sun—it's a fantastic stroller. That, and it's pretty unisex, so he's not going to feel—well yeah, he wouldn't ever feel emasculated by pushing a stroller, even a hot pink one, but he can see why it appeals to some men.
"We just won't tell mommy how much it cost. It'll be our secret," he tells the baby as he reaches for his jacket.
He's just shrugging into the sleeves when there's a knock on the door. He sighs and pushes Johanne a little further from the door before swinging it open, only to come face to face with Harper Kline.
"Um," he says inelegantly.
"Mr. Castle," she says coolly. "I take it Detective Beckett didn't get my message?"
He blinks at her. "No, no I guess she didn't?"
"I called and left it at her work number a few hours ago," she says giving him a disapproving look, like it's somehow his fault. Or Kate's, for that matter.
"She's probably out running leads. They've been canvassing today. If you can come back tomorrow, I'm sure she can work her schedule around to be back for an hour or so…if you're here to—"
"To redo my inspection, as she has apparently changed addresses."
"Ah," he says, bobbing his head. "You can…well, I suppose you could take a look around, just to expedite things. I mean, she's already answered all of your questions. Nothing's really changed, except, well, the address."
Kline nods and steps forward, forcing him to move back as she enters his apartment. Oh, he's really not qualified to do this one on his own.
Johanne whines softly from the stroller and he immediately goes to her side. "Hey, bug," he whispers, reaching in to unstrap her. "You must be kinda hot, huh? Looks like we'll have to wait to get to the park today," he adds as he shrugs her out of her little puffy jacket, leaving her in an adorable white print tee shirt Alexis ordered for her.
It reads: "My mommy kicks butt and takes names." Kate tried, and utterly failed, to prevent herself from falling in love with it. He had kind of been hoping they'd catch a break so she could meet them at the park. Looks like that won't be happening either.
He turns and finds Harper Kline walking around his kitchen, peering at the drawers. He's really glad they took the time to re-attach the safety locks the previous week.
"Is there anything I can do to be helpful?" he asks, stepping into the kitchen with Johanne in his arms, her head lolling against him, obviously a little sleepy after overheating.
Kline looks over at him. "So, the temporary helping out. I assume that's become a 'permanent thing' as well?" she asks, resting her hip against the counter.
He swallows. "So to speak," he offers. "I assumed that her psych eval had been added to the file."
"Ms. Beckett's?"
"Johanne's," he corrects, feeling his stomach drop. Oh, God, he has to tell the Social Worker that Johanne—not cool, system. "She was recently diagnosed with all the indicators for Reactive Attachment Disorder," he explains. "Hence the change of address."
"Ms. Beckett—"
"Detective Beckett," he interjects, feeling his heckles rising.
"Detective Beckett," she says on a sigh, "thought the best course of action after discovering the baby's disorder was to move her from an established home?"
Talk about judgment. "Considering we were advised to keep her in one home, and I have a family that she's slowly getting used to, and she'd been spending more of her waking hours here than at Kate's, yes, she decided to move here for the time being. It's a safe building, and as you can see, Johanne wants for nothing here. She has constant care."
"From you," Kline says with disapproval.
"From both of us," he says, holding Johanne just a bit closer. "I know it's not your personal ideal situation, but she's already doing better. She meets both of our eyes more, recognizes the sound of her name, and our voices. She's cried at night with me for the first time since Kate adopted her. She's improving."
"And when this little…experiment ends? You don't think Detective Beckett moving back to her own home will harm the baby?"
He sighs, rubbing Johanne's back. He's not sure. But it's not like he'll just drop right out of Johanne's life. Hell, he'll probably still be watching her during the day—doesn't really see himself stopping to go back to the precinct, not before she's in nursery school.
Oh, he's so far ahead of himself. But maybe for Harper Kline, that's just where he needs to be.
"Whether or not Detective Beckett moves back to her own home at the end of six months, or a year, or even two years, I'll still be involved in Josie's life. And with enough care, she'll learn to understand that my being absent at night doesn't equate to my being absent forever."
"So what, you're going to play surrogate father until someone comes along to actually do the job?"
"What is your problem with me?" he lets out. He doesn't have all the answers, but that doesn't mean what he's doing is wrong. And it certainly doesn't mean that Kate's decision to move in with him is wrong.
"My problem, Mr. Castle, is that you are letting this infant get attached to you, and someday, you're just going to up and leave."
"Excuse me?" he bristles. "You can't know that. You don't know me at all."
"And what happens if you leave, and Ms—Detective Beckett doesn't make it home one night. You think a little caring right now can fix that? You think this disorder won't flare right back up?"
"Do you do this to all of your home study parents?" he bites out.
"I usually handle this in a preliminary interview. But as Detective Beckett passed over that, I'm doing it now."
"Lucky us," he mumbles to Johanne.
Kline glares at him. "Assuming she survives long enough, what happens when Detective Beckett gets married?"
"And it's not to me?" falls out of his mouth before he can stop it. He's just so angry.
The Harpie blinks at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "I sincerely hope you aren't trying to use this child's disorder as a way to seduce Kate Beckett into—"
"No," he growls. Johanne startles in his arms, letting out a small cry. He sighs and rubs her back, forcing himself to calm down. "I would never use a baby to seduce a woman, much less this one and Kate."
"But you seem to think there's a possibility you and Detective Beckett will end up married?"
He looks toward the ceiling, asking for patience from anything that will listen. "Detective Beckett and I have a complicated history—platonically," he adds, quickly. "But even if she did fall in love with someone else and get married, I would still be there for Johanne. I'll be Uncle Rick."
"And your feelings for Detective Beckett?"
"Have nothing to do with this child," he asserts. "Look," he says, hiking Johanne up so he can run a hand through his hair. "I've been divorced twice." She frowns at him. Yeah, that probably doesn't win him points. "And I've seen what that's done to my daughter. The way it hurt her when her mother or her ex-step mother didn't come when they promised to come—didn't show up at birthdays or concerts or dinners. I've lived the other side of this, with a crying daughter who doesn't understand why she's not worth the attention."
He pauses and watches as Harper Kline softens just a hair.
"I know what it's like to watch your child suffer because of your broken relationship," he admits. "So I would never let myself become the adult who causes that suffering. Even if Kate and I couldn't look at each other, I have no doubt she'd let me see Josie. And I would show up, every time."
He watches as Kline stares at Johanne, seemingly at war with herself. He's struck a chord, he knows that much.
"Why don't you take a look around, make sure everything is up to standard, and I'll let her know you stopped by. If you need her to call to assure yourself that she's dedicated to helping Johanne through this, you can."
The woman meets his eyes, obviously displeased with his dismissal. But he's proved himself well enough. He's not on trial here. Neither is Kate. Whatever personal vendetta Kline has can rot. He's not going to let her stop the progress they're making with Johanne because she thinks she knows better.
"Very well, Mr. Castle," she says before stalking off toward the upper floor.
He lets out a long breath as she clears the upper landing. He sinks down onto one of the bar stools.
"What do you think, bug? Think I did okay?" he whispers to the baby, holding her up to look at her face. "Not as much fun as the park, huh?"
Johanne meets his eyes briefly, before immediately going for his nose. He laughs and snags her fingers, nomming on them gently until she squeals. He smiles and brings her back to his chest before he gets her too riled up. She snuggles up to him and he can't help but be grateful. He knows it's fleeting, but it's very sweet that she's comforting him right now.
He holds her tight with one arm and works his phone out of his pocket with the other, only to see a text from Kate pop up:
Harper Kline is on her way to the loft. Please tell me you're there.
He sighs and swipes to answer the text just as Kate swings into the loft, out of breath and obviously rather worked up.
"Hey," he says, pocketing his phone before getting up with the baby. She meets him halfway across the room and immediately inspects her daughter. "She didn't do anything to her," he promises, laughing slightly.
"Is she still here?" Kate hisses.
"Yeah. And not too pleased. But I think—"
"Detective Beckett."
They both look over as Kline comes back into the foyer. She looks less than happy to see Kate, but not as ready to fight than she had been upon arrival. Kate, for her part, stands flush with Castle, a hand on Johanne's back.
"You've certainly set up here," Kline continues.
Kate nods. "Nice to see you again," she gets out, and he's quite impressed with her tone of voice. It only rings vaguely of homicide. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be here when you arrived. I only just heard the message. We've been out of the precinct for most of the day so far."
"Mr. Castle explained as much," Kline tells her. "I've already heard most everything that's happened over the last month and a half."
"Good," Kate manages. "And you've found everything to your satisfaction."
Kline purses her lips, but nods. "I have. I'll call ahead for our next inspection, three months should be reasonable." Kate and Castle stare at her. That…sounds like they're off the hook, for now at least. "Just be careful," she adds as she moves to the door.
Be what?
"Oh, and Mr. Castle," she says as she opens the door, waiting until he meets her eyes. "Nice choice on the stroller."
With that, she walks out of the loft, closing the door gently behind her. They stand quietly for a long moment, Kate's hand absently running over Johanne's back.
"I think we passed," he says once he's reclaimed his voice.
"Yeah," she mumbles. "Good job."
"Not sure I earned any points, but thanks."
She sighs, her breath hitting his shoulder before she steps away. She looks over at the stroller and smiles. "Were you guys going out?"
"I had planned to, but we're a bit behind now."
"Can I convince you to have lunch with me instead before I go back?" she asks, already moving toward the fridge and the container of chicken parm she forgot to bring this morning.
"Of course," he says happily. "You know the way to my heart, Detective."
She grins at him as she digs two servings out of the fridge. "I do at that, Castle." She gestures toward Johanne and he laughs.
"Yes, yes, her too."
Kate smiles and puts everything onto a plate, setting it in his microwave. He'd rather reheat it in the oven, but she probably doesn't have the time. The chicken will still be fairly crisp, and the spaghetti—well, reheated spaghetti is never great. But she put a pretty decent amount of her special marinara on there. He'll enjoy it.
"Any leads on the case?"
She grins and leans down on her elbows over the counter, tired but excited. And then they lose themselves to building theory and eating messy chicken parm, Johanne's gurgles thrown in the middle. It feels so normal, so much like old times, that he doesn't notice the hour passing until she's up and moving, kissing Johanne's head and rising to press her lips to his cheek, hitting the corner of his mouth instead.
She blushes, but doesn't stiffen, sinking down instead to straighten the edge of his collar and brush her hand over Johanne's head one more time before bidding them goodbye.
He remains standing in his front hall for a long while, the phantom feeling of her lips against his sending his head reeling. He'll stay in Johanne's life forever. But maybe he might just get lucky enough to stay in hers as well.
(…)
A loud whine wakes him a few nights later. He blinks up at his ceiling, waiting. He hears it again and pops out of bed, grabbing his robe and shoving his feet into his slippers almost on autopilot.
Kate got back at 11:30 tonight and nearly fell asleep in her dinner. He'd basically pushed her up the stairs, watching carefully to make sure she didn't drop her sleeping daughter. If he can manage to reach Johanne before she wakes Kate, he'll consider it a victory of epic proportions.
He makes it up the stairs and to her bedroom door without making a sound. He presses his ear to the wood and hears the same whining sound. He grasps the doorknob and turns gently, grinning as he manages to push the door open without the latch clicking.
He tiptoes into the room and pauses, letting himself adjust to the light, only to realize that he's having trouble because the bathroom light is on, and Kate is halfway back to her bed, wearing nothing but a pair of bikini briefs, Johanne pressed to her chest.
"I—" he gets out just as she notices him there.
"Castle." He waits. "Castle!" she squeaks, holding Johanne tighter, using the baby and her arms to try and block his view.
"Sorry," he blurts, watching as she glances from the bed to the chair, the safety of sheets or her tee shirt. "Here," he says, shrugging out of his robe. Yes, because it's obviously the easiest of the three?
She stares at him, but reaches out, letting him shrug one of her arms and then the other into the robe. It takes some maneuvering, but she manages to close the robe around Johanne, keeping some skin contact.
"What are you doin' in here?" she demands once she's covered…just about enough.
"I heard her whining," he defends. "Thought I'd try and get to her before she woke you. I didn't realize you were…up with her already."
Her eyes soften at his explanation and she sighs, looking down at the very awake baby in her arms. "She woke up about half an hour ago, and we didn't get our holding time in today, so I thought now was as good a time as any."
"Sorry," he says, shifting on his feet.
It's not like he saw that much, and not like it would really be that big of a deal if he had. Okay, kind of a big deal, but if Johanne was her biological kid, he'd probably have already gotten an eyeful by now, and more than once.
She is gorgeous though.
But that's not an appropriate thought for—"Wow, is it really three?" Kate nods and moves around him to sink onto the bed. "Did you get any sleep at all?"
She shakes her head and shifts back to lean against the pillows, pulling her knees up, Johanne resting against her mostly-covered chest. "I woke back up after my shower and by the time I was falling asleep…" she gestures to the baby. "You?"
"Three hours maybe," he says, shifting there in the middle of the room.
"Sit down, Castle," Kate chides. He stares at her. "I'm covered," she adds, waving him over.
"But you're having holding time," he protests feebly.
She shakes her head and runs a hand over Johanne's head. "We've gotten half of it in. I haven't talked about anything other than babies and murder today."
He laughs and perches by her feet, smiling as she pokes him with her toes. "Ryan and Espo haven't been keeping you updated on their dating lives?"
"Oh, God," Kate whines, looking back down at Johanne. "Please wait years and years to get married, Josie. The wedding planning is so annoying."
"Ryan's going overboard?"
"It's the only thing he talks about now. And Esposito's either whining about it, or joining in. I think they're making up for your absence."
"My absence?" he repeats, watching as she grins back at him, rumpled and soft and so very lovely.
"You're usually the one with the Cosmo tips."
"Hey now," he protests. "Does she have diaper rash? No, she doesn't. Are your hands chafed from all the hand washing? No, they're not."
She laughs and pokes him again. He grabs her foot and she squeaks. A second later, Johanne repeats her sound. They stare at each other for a beat before Kate looks back down at Johanne, pulling her back so she can see her face.
"Did you just squeak, bug?" she asks, her voice high and musical. "Did you? Can you do it again for mama?" Kate squeaks. Johanne squeaks. "Good girl, Josie!"
Castle watches them together with a grin. Kate's toes wiggle beneath his hand and she meets his eyes, a matching beam on her face. He won't ruin it by telling her that holding Josie away from her body gives him a very clear picture of her chest. He can be a gentleman.
"I know Castle's getting a show right now but I just don't care, do I?" Kate coos at the baby. He laughs, startled, and she glances at him, still smiling. "Can you squeak for me again, baby? You're making such good eye contact."
Kate squeaks, bouncing Johanne again, and the baby repeats her sound. Kate grins and nuzzles their faces together before hefting her up to rub her nose against Johanne's belly. The baby laughs, a tinkling sound that has both of them wide eyed.
"Happy baby tonight," Castle offers as Johanne calms down, cuddling back into Kate's chest.
"Happy cuddly baby," Kate agrees. "She met my eyes for a minute there, Rick." He squeezes her foot and she looks up at him. "Like she really knows who I am."
"Of course she does. Dr. Goldstein said we'll get more and more of these moments, remember?" he says. "And tonight she's so happy to see you that she's squeaky."
Kate hums, pressing her lips to Johanne's forehead. "Was she good today?"
"I thought you didn't want baby talk," he reminds her.
"Would you rather talk Nikki Heat?" she tosses back, smirking.
"She was great today," he enthuses, pouting as Kate laughs. "We spent some time on our tummies, and she was a grabby little thing. She's trying to push herself up too. She'll be crawling in no time."
"Did you get a video?" Kate asks softly.
"Yeah I did." Of course he did. If it wasn't so ridiculous, he'd get the whole place outfitted with cameras so they'd always have footage. "I can go grab my phone."
She shakes her head, pressing against his palm with her foot. "Tomorrow."
He nods, watching as Johanne slowly begins to fall back to sleep, slumped against Kate's chest, very trusting and very open for their—for her little girl. Kate hums a soft lullaby and they just sit there, watching as the baby falls asleep, content in their silence.
"You want me to put her in the crib?" he asks once he's sure Johanne is well and truly out.
"Sure," Kate whispers. "She'll be up in maybe another hour to eat, I think. Might get two."
"I can come up and get her," he says as he stands and comes to her side. She passes him the baby carefully, more concerned with Johanne staying asleep than the state of his robe over her chest.
They manage to hand her off without Johanne waking, and he gets her settled in the crib, slipping her back into her little green onesie. Kate keeps her room rather cool, and he doesn't want Johanne to wake up from the cold. Or worse, to wake up and not cry, as she's sometimes apt to do.
They may not look the same, and may come from two separate countries, but Baby Beckett and Big Beckett have the same tendency to suffer in silence.
He turns from Johanne and finds Kate still propped up in bed, the robe closed over her chest and her eyes trained on her daughter in her crib.
"I'll come back up in an hour or so," he says, walking back to her side to look at the clock. "She probably won't cry this late."
"No," Kate agrees, tearing her eyes away to look up at him. "But I can get her. You don't need to go down and come back up."
"I'm not the one going to work in the morning," he says easily. "It's no trouble. I'm supposed to get her at night too."
"I know," she says tiredly, her delight in Johanne fading in the face of exhaustion. "But I don't—why don't you just crash up here? Set an alarm and get her?"
"I—sure. Okay. I'll just go grab one of the spare quilts. The throw rug is pretty soft—"
"For God's sake," she says, her tone light but strained. "It's a queen bed. I don't have cooties."
"What?"
"You just saw the girls, Castle. I don't have much to hide. Just come here and sleep for forty-five minutes, would you?"
She slinks down in the bed then, still wrapped in his robe, her face virtually disappearing into one of the pillows.
"Are you sure?" he asks, because it's just—it's her bed. He's never slept in her bed before, even if it's only for 45 minutes until he gets up to feed Johanne and crawl back to his own bed.
"M'sure. Get in, Castle."
Well, he's not going to ignore an order like that. He shuffles around the bed and gingerly climbs in, watching Kate's prone form. She has a hand curled up under her chin, the other wedged below her pillow. Her eyes blink sluggishly at him as he fumbles for her phone on the bedside table, turning the screen away so as not to bombard her eyes as he sets the alarm.
He glances toward the bathroom, realizing the light is still on, spilling a column of yellow between the bed and the crib, but leaving both sides in relative darkness.
"Should I get the—"
"She doesn't like the dark," Kate mumbles.
"Oh," he lets out. He didn't know.
"Go to sleep," Kate chides.
"Okay."
He lays there stiffly for a few minutes, listening to the sound of Johanne's little baby breaths, and Kate's slowly steadying ones. The bed is comfortable, and it smells like Kate—a hint of vanilla and whatever citrus product she's using in her hair these days. There's a whiff of Johanne's baby powder too. Overall, it's a very comforting sent.
And though he's very comfortable, and he certainly has the right imagery for a very good set of dreams, he's quite awake. He's hyper aware of her body in the bed with him, and he can't seem to turn that off enough to sink into the exhaustion he feels. He has it easier than her—can nap sometimes when Johanne does—but he does try and get her at least once a night when he can, and the book, oh the book—
He stills as Kate's hand reaches out and curls onto his. He looks over and finds her eyes slitted open. She strokes his palm and sighs.
"Sleep, Rick," she whispers.
Somehow, he does.
And even though he wakes not thirty-five minutes later, stumbling around and clumsily reaching down to pick up an awake and fussy Johanne, he feels better rested than he has in a while.
"Come on, bug. Let's get a midnight snack."
