Austin turns, watching as his mom flies across the hospital waiting room and crushes him in a hug. She kisses his head and rocks them both as he cries.
It was supposed to be a happy day, one of celebration as a new little soul entered the world. But a dark cloud of fear and sorrow hung above them instead.
"They wouldn't let us hold him," Austin sobs. "I barely got to say hello."
"I know, baby. It's gonna be okay." She tries offering him as much comfort as possible.
"Hey, my man," Castle says, taking his son into an equally as hard hug.
"Dad, you should have seen Christine's face. She's so sacred," Austin says.
"I know, I know. It's gonna be okay," Rick says, holding his son as he cries for his wife and new son. "Who's in there with her?" Castle asks, motioning to the locked doors leading to the private rooms.
"Her parents. I wanted to give them some privacy."
"And the kids?' Kate asks. There was a long road filled with many unknowns ahead for this family, and she was trying to formulate a plan to help in any way she could.
"Grant and Sarah have them," Austin nods, swallowing hard. "I don't know what I'm gonna tell them. They were so excited when they heard Chris was in labor. Hayley has been ready to meet her brother for months now." The thought of his daughter painstakingly sorting out all the toys in the playroom to give to her new sibling made him smile. She was going to be the best big sister.
The chime of Austin's phone momentarily breaks him of his emotion and he smiles at the screen as he reads the text message.
"That was Liam," he relays to his parents, "he's taking a red eye down tonight." Their twin bond was evident in that moment.
"Good, good," Kate nods.
"Can we go see her? Is that okay?" Castle asks.
"Oh, yeah. I'm sure she'll be so happy to see you guys," Austin nods.
A nurse buzzes them through the security door and Austin leads them down a hallway. He knocks on the heavy wooden door before entering.
"Hey you," Austin says, going to his wife. He leans down for a kiss, and when Christine wraps her arms around his neck, he holds her for a long moment. Meanwhile, Kate and Rick exchange hellos with Christine's parents; both of them equally as worried and sad for their daughter and son-in-law.
"Any news?" Christine asks when Austin pulls away.
"Still the same," he answers with a shake of his head. "I brought some people to see you." He steps back to reveal Rick and Kate and the sobbing 'hi' Christine gives them sends another wave of emotion to everyone in the room.
Accepting her open arms as invitation, Rick, who was closer, wraps the woman in a hug; his words to her were quiet and muffled, but Christine's nods and sniffles were response enough.
"Hey, honey," Kate says, hugging her daughter-in-law next. She could empathize with her on more levels than any other person in that room. Knew her worry, and sorrow, and all the questions that were running through her mind. "It's gonna be okay," Kate says, holding Christine's face in her hands as she stared hard into her silver eyes. "Okay? You are going to be okay."
Christine nods, her face breaking again with new tears. "He looked so little and helpless. They wouldn't let me hold him." She lets out a sobbing breath. "I didn't get to say hello."
"I know, I know," Kate soothes.
"I'm not strong enough for this."
"Yes you are," Kate insists. "Trust me: you are. Even when everything is going to hell, and you feel like you can't keep going, you can." She gives Christine another hug and then steps back, knowing the mom needed a minute to collect herself.
Christine dries her face, adding the tissue to the growing pile on the table beside her, and look at her husband who was rummaging through his bag for something before he pulls a chair close to her and sits, taking her hand in his own. He and Christine share a silent conversation which ends when she nods at him.
"We made these for you guys," Austin says, handing out six nearly identical handmade bracelets of soft, sage-green thread. Tiny beads were strung in and around the intricate knots, spelling out the baby's name: Harrison Richard.
"Well, I made them; Austin tried his best," Christine jokes, kissing away the feigned hurt look on her husband's face.
"They're beautiful!" Erica says.
"They really are. This is a lovely gift," Kate echoes, rubbing the bracelet between her fingers.
"We're naming him after Pop Pop,' Christine says, directing the comment to her father.
Her grandfather- who went by his middle name, Harrison- a decorated Naval commander who expected absolute compliance from his crew yet was the sweetest teddy bear when it came to his family.
"He'd love that," Scott says, getting emotional.
All six of them tie the bracelet onto their wrists as Austin explains that there was one more for Liam when he arrived (he was to be named the baby's godfather), and that Simon and Hayley each had one also.
"Harrison," Castle muses as he looks at the bracelet; eyes widening when a long-lost memory hits him. He bumps shoulders with Kate, getting her attention. "The safety was on the whole time." It takes her a moment of looking at his cheeky grin before the reference hits her.
"Oh my god!" She slaps a hand over her mouth to cover the loud laugh she lets out. "If you hadn't shut up, I don't know what would have happened."
"What?" Austin asks.
"We're missing something," Christine comments. Though she'd heard many stories during her decade and a half with the Castle family, this one wasn't ringing any bells.
"The first case your mom and I worked together," Castle supplies. "The perp was a guy named Harrison. He'd killed his sister, and when we showed up to his place, your mom didn't want me going in with them."
"Because all you'd done up until that point was cause trouble! I didn't need that when I was taking down a suspect!" Kate interjects.
"You say 'cause trouble', I say 'helped you solve that case'," he replies, making Kate scoff and roll her eyes.
"Anyway, we roll up, and mom tells me to stay put, she even handcuffs me to her car!"
"Oh my god! Mom!" Austin laughs. He'd heard stories of his parent's days as crime-fighting partners, and every time his dad's antics make him laugh.
"Right! So, I break out of the cuffs, and I see the guy coming down the fire escape. So, I call your mom and as she's running to us, I try to stop him, but he grabs me and holds me at gunpoint."
"Oh my gosh," Christine's parents gasp.
"But, what Kate didn't know was his gun had the safety on the whole time. He wasn't gonna shoot me! So, mom's talking him down, trying to get him to let me go. But I could tell he was gonna do something stupid, so I punch him. Bam! He's on the ground, out cold."
Castle smiles at the faces of his captive audience.
"That's amazing," Austin says.
"It really is," Christine agrees. "I swear we didn't know that before we named him."
"Don't worry, I didn't think that," Castle says. He touches the beads, "But this kid's gonna be attached to one hell of a memory." His comment is full of love and affection. To have their grandchild be connected, in an unofficial, sideways way, to their first case as partners was something Rick and Kate would never forget.
The moment of levity is short-lived when a scrub-clad nurse comes in and lets the new parents know that they can go upstairs to see their son.
Once Christine is settled in a wheelchair, with a blanket over her lap, they wave goodbye to their parents and Austin rolls her out of the room. They follow the nurse to the elevator and up two floors to the Intensive Care Unit, where she leaves them with another nurse.
After washing their hands and donning a mask and hair cap, the nurse buzzes them into the unit. The smell of antiseptic and plastic hits their noses, making Austin's stomach turn.
A weird sense of Deja Vu hits him; like he'd been there before. Of course, he'd heard stories and seen pictures of him and his sibling in a similar hospital unit some three decades prior, but now the roles were reversed.
"He's right in here," the nurse says, leading them into a glass-walled room, one of four in a pod surrounding a central desk.
"Look, he's got his own room," Austin says, trying to keep the tone light.
"Oh, Austin," Christine's quiet sob has him reaching for her hand. Austin loses the levity in his face and voice. The room seemed to be sucked clean of any joy at the moment.
Their son lies in the middle of the room enclosed in a clear plastic incubator. He's hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires, and his eyes are covered as a fluorescent blue light shines down on him. There's a tube coming out of his nose that reminds Austin of a snorkel mask, and a red glowing sensor taped to one of his tiny big toes. A screen hung above him monitors his oxygen levels and heart rate.
"You can go touch him if you'd like," the nurse directs. "Just flip the latch on the side there and those windows will open."
Austin keeps a hand on Christine's waist as she stands and puts her hand through the circular window. Her fingers are shaking as she touches their son for the first time, feeling his soft skin and noticing how his whole hand can fit around one of her fingers.
Of her three deliveries, Harrison was the smallest coming in at just shy of eight pounds, but seeing him lying there, he look even smaller. Christine starts to cry again, her breath fogging up the plexiglass.
When the nurse speaks again, they both jump, forgetting she was there in the first place.
"He's doing really well," she smiles. "Doesn't need much oxygen, and he's keeping his temperature and heart rate up, which is always good. We're treating him for a little touch of jaundice; that's what the blue light is for. Compared to some of the kids in here, he's rocking it."
Austin puts his hand in, tickling Harrison's foot. "Hear that, buddy? You're doing really good! Keep it up." He sniffles and blinks away tears, smiling when Christine meets his eyes.
"A doctor will be in to talk to you soon." The nurse slides the door closed and heads off to tend to her other patients.
Thirty minutes later, a team of doctors come to speak with them and turn their whole world upside down.