Rick walked softly into the nursery. It was bathed in moonlight, and the shadows on the walls, coupled with the deep silence of the night, enveloped him with a profound sense of peace.
There were two cribs in the room; the silvery light that streamed in the uncovered window washed out all colors, making the cribs appear to glow a bright white. It was almost as though a halo of soft moonshine surrounded both of them. He approached the first crib, and peering over it observed his child sleeping peacefully. Covered with a soft blanket, the little one breathed evenly, undisturbed. This child was not the reason he'd been summoned to the room in the middle of the night.
Kissing two of his fingers, he placed them on the babe's forehead softly, love pouring from his heart through his veins and transferring through the two digits on his baby's skin to surround his child. Moving softly on tiptoe, he then approached the other crib.
Here was the source of all the trouble. This baby was clearly awake, eyes dark in the dim light but with sparks of deep blue visible as he looked around. His dark hair curled in a soft cap on top of his head, and as Rick stared at him in wonder, his little bow mouth scrunched up and his father knew he had seconds to provide comfort before his son's loud squalling would sound throughout the house.
"Shh, shh little one. No crying now, daddy's here," he whispered, as he expertly scooped the infant from the bed just in time to preclude any shattering cries. "What's the matter? Are you wet?"
Checking the diaper quickly, he determined that was not the issue. "You just wanted daddy to come hold you, is that it?" he whispered as his son settled happily against his chest, a contented look now on his face.
Walking over to a comfortable glider in the corner, Rick carefully lowered himself into its depths, soothing his son as he looked to start crying again.
"Now, what do you want from daddy, hmm? Do you just want me to hold you, or are you hungry?"
His angelic son just stared up at him for a moment, then opened his mouth as if to answer. Rick thought he was hallucinating when he heard the word 'hungry' clear as a bell.
"What? Did you say you're hungry?" Rick stared at the baby, half afraid he'd heard him speak at two weeks of age, and half afraid he was so sleep deprived he was losing touch with reality.
His son looked at him intently, and again the word 'hungry' came from his mouth.
Rick was paralyzed: nervous to move, terrified to say anything more. How could a two week old speak, and so clearly?
When his father didn't say anything more, the infant suddenly took his free arm and reached over and punched his father's chest. It was a precise blow, striking him in the ribs and was certainly much more powerful than any two week old had the right to be.
"What is it? What do you want?" Rick cried out, smarting from the blow. How had his sweet little baby turned into the spawn of Satan?
"Hungry. Rick, I want to eat."
Staring at the baby in confusion, Rick considered his escape options. Clearly the little tyke was not his child. Probably an alien who'd been placed on earth to be raised by humans. They should have named him Kal-El.
"What do you want to eat? And why are you calling me Rick?"
"'s your name. Hungry!"
"Yes, but do you want milk?"
"No! Pineapple!" Another blow to his chest came, as he struggled to process the bizarre request from the tiny human(?) being.
"Pineapple? What kind of baby are you? And stop hitting me!"
"Well, wake up then!"
Suddenly he was being shaken, and none to gently. Opening his eyes, he couldn't help the tiny scream when he found Kate's face just inches from his. She was as intent as the baby in his dream had been, but even more capable of inflicting harm on his body.
"Rick, what the hell?"
Willing his heart to stop galloping circles in his chest, he took a deep breath before trying to act nonchalant.
"Kate, what's going on?"
She rolled away from him a bit, not noticing the big sigh of relief her actions brought him.
"I'm starving."
Rick considered his response, which was fortunate. This was the third night in a row she'd awoken him from a deep sleep. The first two nights, he'd not been sufficiently able to think and had essentially walked into a bear trap both nights when she'd told him she was starving in the middle of the night. His undisciplined response both times had been "I doubt that, sweetheart. After all, your feeding pump is going and you've been gaining weight like crazy."
He still had two impressive bruises on the arm nearest her side of the bed from those two nights. His wife was definitely recovering her strength.
Tonight, though…tonight was different. He managed not to walk into the buzzsaw of Kate's raging hormones. Despite the lingering disquiet brought on by the disturbing dream, he was able to wake up enough and ask an intelligent question. Or so it seemed at the time.
"What do you want me to do?"
Kate huffed out loud. "I want you to feed me. Why else would I have woken you up?"
Rick bit his tongue to prevent any quick answers. He congratulated himself on his self-restraint. Silently, of course.
"What would you like, Kate?"
"Pineapple, please. Fresh, and cut up in little chunks with toothpicks to pick them up with."
Luckily, this craving had first manifested just a few days after their last appointment with Dr. Lobato, and more importantly the first time had been during the day. Rick had bought several pineapples, so there was no need to go out to the store in the middle of the night. He was absolutely certain if they hadn't had fresh pineapple in the house, that he'd be making a trip outside.
"Ok, anything else?"
She looked up at him, as he'd now stood at the side of the bed. He'd learned two nights ago to make sure the entire order was in, else he'd be making several forays to the kitchen.
"Do you think you could cut up a few chunks of cheddar cheese too? Also with the toothpicks?"
"Sure, baby. Anything else?"
"Maybe a few bites of that sausage I like? That's all, Rick."
"Coming right up, my lady. Please sit back and relax. Anything to drink?"
"No, I'm good. I don't want you to go to any trouble."
He bit his tongue again. As if pouring a glass of juice or milk was more trouble than dicing up a giant fruit and inserting a toothpick into each one in the middle of the night.
As he worked in the kitchen, he thought about the night before. He'd thought he'd been soooo smart, but it had backfired, big time. She'd been asking for fresh pineapple each night, so he'd cut some up just before he went to bed and put it in a ziplock bag, all ready for her next demand. When she'd woken him at two thirty, he'd silently been self-congratulatory as he'd stumbled into the kitchen. The prep work would save him a good ten minutes.
Then disaster had struck. She'd known, somehow. It wasn't "fresh-fresh." Whatever the hell that meant. She'd agreed to eat it, but he could tell she wasn't happy. And an unhappy Kate meant lots of deep sighs and huffs when they tried to settle back into bed. Lesson learned. No shortcuts. His pregnant wife wanted fresh pineapple, and that's what she'd get.
Finishing up all the stupid toothpicks, he arranged the snack on a plate, then placed it on a tray to carry into the bedroom. He admired the arrangement for a second—he'd made a smiley face out of the cheese—then was inspired to remove a rose bud from an arrangement in the kitchen his mother had brought home from some play. Placing the bud in a small vase then on the tray, he smiled to himself. She'd be very happy with him tonight.
Opening the door to the bedroom, he could barely see Kate in the dim light.
"Kate, why don't you turn on your bedside lamp, so you can see?"
He kept moving toward her as she reached over to flick it on. He was at her side as she turned back, now able to see in the brighter room. As he smiled lovingly at her and placed the tray on her bedside table, she smiled back at him, then looked at the tray. That's when she burst into tears.
Shocked, he sat down abruptly on the side of the bed, reaching for her.
"Kate, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"
"It's so beautiful, Castle," she sniffed.
"What is?"
"The tray," she wailed. "It's too pretty to eat."
"No, it's not. It's all for you, baby. You're hungry, so I made it just how you liked it."
"I know. I don't deserve you. I elbowed you awake."
Rick involuntarily rubbed his chest. "I know, but I'm sure you'd tried to wake me before that."
"You wouldn't wake up. I had to, Rick. I had to."
"I know. I was just having a weird dream. Listen, let's stop crying and eat the pineapple before it goes bad, okay?"
She snuffled in his shirt again, but he felt her nod her head in agreement. Relieved, he stood up again and helped get her situated so that the tray could be placed over her lap.
In short order—faster that Rick could have imagined—the entire tray of food was devoured, and his wife was looking at him with devotion in her eyes.
"Thanks, Rick. The babies and I really needed that."
He leaned over to kiss her. "You and the babies are welcome. Now, why don't you get settled again, and I'll take care of the tray."
By the time he came back into the bedroom, she was sound asleep again. Knowing she'd sleep until morning, he relaxed next to her. Reaching over to rub his hand on her increasing lower abdomen, he smiled sleepily. Life with an improving Kate Beckett was certainly not dull.
The next morning, he decided to forgo her usual dose of Zofran. She'd not had significant nausea since their last visit to Dr. Lobato, five days ago now. They'd dialed back the formula, as instructed, and Kate had been eating more and more. He might have said she had her old appetite back, and then some, if asked. For the last two days, they'd only done the formula overnight. It was a real relief to Kate to be unhooked from the kangaroo pump during the day—it freed her from that tether, though she still had to deal with the tube itself.
Her strength continued to improve, and she'd started having cravings. It was all so thoroughly normal, and they both embraced the whole process with joy. Though that joy was tempered in the middle of the night when Rick was wakened from a sound sleep. However, he'd never trade it for anything in the world.
Kate was now fully capable of walking on her own, so Brett's sessions had come to an end the day before, much to Martha and Alexis' disappointment. Rick had to assist her minimally with showering—mainly due to the hassle she had with the feeding tube. However, she was able to dress herself and while she wasn't moving as fast as she once had, she was essentially independent again. It was a real relief for everyone in the family.
She still slept a lot, but that was likely explainable by the pregnancy alone, and not due to any debilitation on her part.
This morning, Rick was busy making breakfast for the loft inhabitants when his wife shuffled out, adorable bed hair and all.
"Morning," he offered carefully. He poured her a glass of milk and sat it on the counter where she normally sat.
She grunted something, which was typical for her. Without any shots of caffeine to get her moving in the morning, she was a bit grumpy. However, he didn't detect any signs of nausea, much to his relief. It looked as though his decision to stop the Zofran altogether was justified.
Martha descended the stairs first, followed closely by a bounding Alexis.
"Morning, Dad, Gram. Morning, Kate," the teen exclaimed as she snatched some toast and juice for her plate.
Martha looked up bleary eyed, nursing a coffee. "Ah, youth. I envy you, Alexis."
"Mother, you might have more energy if you came in at a reasonable hour."
"Richard, life is meant to be lived to the fullest. There's plenty of time for rest once I'm dead."
Jim trod downstairs quietly. He'd been living in the loft for several weeks now, and was used to some of Martha's more colorful statements. He'd found that while there was certainly a loss of privacy and solitude, being in the midst of the family that loved his daughter so much more than made up for it.
"Morning, all," he said, stopping next to Katie and planting a kiss on her rumpled hair. She leaned back against him briefly, the only acknowledgment of his kiss. She had always been slow to wake up in the mornings, unless it was a body drop. Then, she was immediately raring to go. He supposed the surge of adrenaline served the purpose of coffee when she got a call from dispatch.
Sitting down, they were all soon filling their plates. All except Kate, who was still nursing her glass of milk.
"Kate, do you want some toast?" Rick asked his wife.
Nodding, he started to butter it.
"No butter, please," she mumbled.
"No butter?" He was confused. They'd been adding butter to her toast every morning for days now. It was one method of getting some calories into her. "Do you want pineapple?"
She shuddered. "No. No pineapple. Could you put some cheese on it?"
"Sure, anything."
"And some chocolate?"
Rick paused, halfway to the fridge to retrieve the cheese. He wasn't convinced he'd heard her right.
"You want toast with cheese and chocolate, Kate?" Alexis exclaimed. Rick winced. His daughter hadn't learned how to question Kate's dietary choices in a tactful manner, but luckily Kate chose to let it slide.
"Yes. Melted on top. That'd be great, babe."
"Okay. Cheese and chocolate toast coming right up." Looking over at the counter, he could see Jim and Martha trying hard to keep from laughing, while Alexis just looked horrified. Rick made a mental note to buy at least one more pineapple, a lot more cheese and more chocolate today. God only knew what the night would bring.
While the others more than likely were on a tight schedule, no one moved to leave. Not until Rick had carefully grilled the toast in a non-stick pan so that the cheese and chocolate on top melted to Kate's satisfaction. They'd all long finished their breakfast by the time she began to eat, and it was almost hysterical to watch them pretend to be lingering over coffee or juice, while surreptitiously watching Kate eat in various degrees of fascination.
Rick was used to her rebounding appetite by now, and wasn't at all surprised when she picked up the plate to lick some chocolate that had tried to get away. He thought he might have to pick Jim up off the floor, however. Setting the plate down, Kate became aware of the unwanted attention that they were all now visibly paying her.
"What?" she blushed, embarrassed.
"Katie, I'm sure Rick would be happy to get you more chocolate if you asked," her father gently chided her.
"I don't want anymore. That was just right. Thanks, Rick."
"You're more than welcome, Kate. And for the rest of you, we're off the tube feeds during the day, completely. She has to eat more, and she's obviously started having cravings. This is all completely normal, and Dr. Lobato is very pleased with her progress."
"Ah, I remember all the cravings I had with Richard. I went a month eating nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I'm so glad you're feeling so much better, Katherine. Keep eating, I say. After all, you're eating for three! And since they're half Rick, it's probably more like eating for five."
Kate smiled at her mother-in-law's exuberance. "Thanks, Martha. It's been a little strange. I don't feel in control of my body at all, but at least I'm feeling stronger again."
As the others finally stood up to go about their day, they each gave both Rick and Kate a kiss or a squeeze on the arm. Kate stayed on her stool, silent as the door closed on the last one to leave, which was her father. It was just the two of them, once more.
Rick looked at her closely. She looked so much better; she finally really had that pregnancy glow, and her weight gain over the last week had completely erased the signs of emaciation she'd had until now. Besides the feeding tube, there was no physical remnant of her ordeal.
She looked up just then, catching him staring at her. Smiling uncertainly, she tilted her head to one side. "What, Rick?"
Studying her again, he saw what he'd missed earlier. Though she'd probably hidden it, trying to fool the others.
"You want more, don't you?"
She nearly flung her plate at him, so eager for him to fix her more toast with cheese and chocolate.
"I thought you'd never ask!"
Rick chuckled to himself as he reheated the pan and set out the necessary ingredients. No, he wouldn't trade one minute of life with Kate for anything in the world. It was messy at times, and he could do with more sleep. But it was perfect. There was no where he'd rather be, than at her side fixing her strange food combinations and getting elbowed awake in the middle of the night.
Yes, it's been a while, and I do apologize. However, I must reiterate it's not because I've forgotten this story. I hadn't written a single word for over 4 weeks, until today. Travel, vacation, work all conspired against the creative process, as well as a family situation that I hope is about to be resolved. I appreciate everyone's patience, but will remind you of my words from an earlier chapter: I will never stop writing this story. It is one that I envision will go on and on and on. There's no particular end point in sight, unless I just stop writing altogether. Because it's written as I go, I'm afraid updating is erratic. That's the downside. The upside is that it will live on for an unending time. Thanks to all that have stuck by it. Your passion for this story is humbling.