Castle: Home

Wednesday 10 October

From his vast kitchen, he watched Beckett collapse onto his couch, hair fanning out over the back. As they arrived at the loft, Castle had quickly ushered his mother to the kitchen while Beckett had shown Erin to the guest room upstairs. She had returned shortly and told him wearily that Erin was too tired for a tour or a shower or a bath.

He refocused on his stunned mother. 'Katherine has a daughter!' The older woman stifled a gasp. 'Ssshhhh,' he whispered, bringing fingers to his mouth and pulling her to the far end of the kitchen. 'Did you know?'

'I didn't.' If it were possible, Martha looked even more shocked. 'That's not important right now.'

'Well, darling, who is she? Why is she here?'

'You're not going to believe it. She's a witness to a case. Beckett recognised her name, I think. Her adoptive parents have been dead for over a year. She won't let her go back to Child Services.'

'Oh no. No, no, no. She must stay with her. Absolutely.' His mother banged the kitchen surface with her fist. 'But why are they here? Not that they're not welcome of course.'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Yes, they are welcome in my home.' But he couldn't keep up the mask for long. He leaned back against the fridge, his head hitting the cool metal. 'It all happened so fast. She mentioned her apartment and before I knew it, I was asking her to move in with me, with Erin. It just happened. We haven't had time to discuss it.'

'Oh, Richard. You have a good heart.' He let her pull his forehead down to hers. 'But you two have a lot to discuss.' He leaned into her for a few seconds; he closed his eyes and tried to slow his racing pulse. Then, she patted him on the shoulder and drew back, an arm arcing through the air. In a stage voice she pronounced: 'I have a dinner date tonight, don't wait up!' He watched as she briefly sat beside Kate. His girlfriend's face was hidden but her shoulders drew up to her ears. His mother's eyes met his as she swept out of the loft.

He poured them each a large glass of Chateau Neuf du Pape and, turning off the main lights so that the lamps left a soft orange glow around the couch, he joined her. His limbs heavy, he sat down. Kate shifted upright, sniffing the heady scent as she swirled the red liquid around the glass. Over the last few weeks, this nightly glass of wine had been the signifier that the day had ended, their work lives put away for the night, and the lovers Rick and Kate were set free. What a glorious time it had been. The joy he had felt at finally seeing her walls come down knocked him sideways. His heart had thumped wildly at her giggly silliness. She had promised him that he would have no idea what she would be like in bed, and she had been right. Inhibitions. What inhibitions? But it wasn't just the sex. It was the way she left the Detective behind and let him see all of her properly for the first time.

Except that she hadn't really, she had kept another enormous secret hidden. He thought he had peeled back the layers but there were more than he could imagine.

'So.' Wine sloshed precariously as he rolled the glass between his thighs.

'So,' she replied, staring ahead.

They ought to be rushing around, he thought. The guest bedroom would be fine for now, but shouldn't they decorate it for her? They would need to take her clothes shopping. Of course, there had to be more to her runaway story, but Erin had only elaborated on questions relating to the case and otherwise responded to direct questions monosyllabically, avoiding eye contact.

What does Erin like to eat? Earlier as they had had to wait around for the sketch artist (it had become apparent that Erin's view had been clear enough to give a description of the two young white males who had each fired a pistol) he had decided to buy take out. Once he had left the precinct, however, he had panicked and bought Chinese, Mexican, hot dogs and a selection of wraps and sandwiches. Beckett had stared so hard as Erin had sniffed her way through the mass of styrofoam boxes, the child's face screwed up in poorly hidden embarrassment, that he had eventually elbowed her in the ribs. She had been hungrily examining Erin's choice of food as if it would reveal a clue to her psyche. Erin had avoided her gaze, eventually settling on a simple chicken wrap and a vegetable spring roll.

Out of the corner of his eye, Castle had watched Erin too. She had a self-possession that he assumed had been acquired from her brief stint on the streets. Or was it that self-possession that had helped her to survive, or that might have been the catalyst for her to run away in the first place? Earlier, he had watched her through the two-way mirror give an articulate witness account, holding her poise gracefully, telling only as much as was needed. Nerves only showed as she had twisted her fingers through a long strand of hair, not meeting anyone's eyes, including her mother's.

She seemed so grown up, yet once she had chosen her food, she had swung herself up onto a table, dangling her long legs, the laces on one converse trainer loose, her shoulders hunched forward. She had lost herself in deconstructing the wrap, inspecting each part thoroughly before eventually nibbling half of it. He had remembered Alexis at that age, spouting pretentious words of seemingly adult wisdom, unaware of sporting an ice-cream moustache.

He couldn't seem to move. There was so much they should be organising. He knew he shouldn't push her, that today wasn't about him, but it was about them. Out of nowhere they were taking on the responsibility of a presumably troubled or at the very least a grieving pre-teen. He felt acutely aware of the possible psychological layers. How would he approach a character like Erin in one of his books? Adopted. Well, that brings its own set of identity complications. An orphan. That too is a classic bildungsroman trope. Accidentally meets birth mother after witnessing a double murder and by the end of the day moving into her (new) boyfriend's home? That was a story he didn't know how to tell.

He turned towards Beckett. She seemed to glow in the light. She was different: she had had a baby. She had been pregnant. He shifted onto his side and rested his wine glass on the back of the couch. Sluggishly, she mirrored him.

'You had a baby.'

'Castle, I can't talk about this now. There's just too much-'

'I know, Kate. I realise that. It's just. Pregnancy, birth, you've already done that.' His voice was full of wonder; the ability to bring life into the world was the one thing Richard Castle envied of women. 'We've never talked about having children. We don't have to talk about the past,' he said quickly, pulling on her hand, lacing his fingers though hers, as she shifted away from him. 'The future though. I'm there, right? You do want to have children, more children?'

She sighed. He wanted to stop but he had to know. She had given her child away. What did that mean for them?

'I was a kid back then, Rick. I'd just lost my mother, my dad was drowning in the bottle, there was no father.' He would save his response to that later. 'I couldn't be a mother then.' Evidentially, there was more to it, but it was taking so much of her just to engage. 'But it's not that I never wanted to be one. When the time was right, and with the right person. I always assumed I would one day.' Tension eased from his muscles. She placed her glass on the coffee table and her hands slid up to his face, her thumbs running along his cheeks; a knee poked into his thigh. 'Do you want to be a father again?'

So like Beckett to turn the tables on him. 'Of course. I always assumed I would too. Having Alexis has been the greatest joy of my life.' He kicked himself as her face fell into a brief smile that didn't reach her eyes. He wanted to know what she felt, he wanted to know it all. To comfort her. When Alexis had first been handed to him, it was a sheer miracle. What had her pregnancy and the birth been like? Had she held Erin? How – the why she had explained, and he easily understood - had she given her baby away? He knew that she could compartmentalise, that she could squash and bury and contort her feelings to a deep place hidden from everyone. Yet he was stumped that she could have kept something this huge to herself.

Kate interrupted his reverie. 'Castle, I know you want hear it all and I am sorry I never told you. But I would have done one day, before we had children. But I have never told anyone.' His heart contracted at the thought of how lonely she must have been. 'It's not like I've been thinking about it, thinking 'when will I tell Castle?'. It happened and I moved on. My father doesn't even know.'

'Jim doesn't know?' He placed his glass on the table next to hers.

'Oh God, my Dad.' She slumped backwards.

'You don't have to face him yet.'

'Castle, he's going to be devastated that I did this, that I didn't tell him.' She stood up, pacing around the coffee table.

'Hey, hey, for another day. Okay? It's Erin who is important right now.'

A smile returned.

'Yes, Erin.' She reclined beside him, nodding. He was about to turn the conversation to practical things like what they would do the next day when Kate turned to him, her face flushed, the lamplight sparkling in her eyes. With one hand she gripped his knee.

'She's beautiful, isn't she, Rick? I mean, she's just perfect, isn't she?' Right. Not time for practical yet. He leaned in towards her, his breath hitching in realisation that as she had never told anyone, she had never been able to gush about her perfect baby. Throughout the day, he had had to suppress a rising sense of betrayal that she could have kept this from him but now he could see how misplaced any sense of petulance would be. He nuzzled into her cheek, pulling her closer into him. This was special. She was sharing this with him, now. He could give her the assurance she craved, and he revelled in it. 'Yes, she's perfect. Just like her mother.'

'Do you think she looks like me?' Her wide eyes made her look younger, as if the nineteen-year-old had suddenly broken through. She tapped an urgent rhythm along his arm.

'Your eyes. She has your eyes.'

'And she's tall,' she said breathlessly. ''Espo said he thought she was older, it's probably her height that makes her seem older, right?'

Castle wasn't used to Beckett babbling.

'Did you see her in the interview? She was so clear. Her accent though. It's New York but it sounds like she's travelled, been somewhere else.' He opened his mouth to answer but she couldn't stop. 'I wonder when she moved from California? I was at college when she was born. She must have been young. How strange that it was here, my home! She could have ended up anywhere, but she ended up here, in my city!'

He began to grow concerned at her increasingly manic tone. Then, just as suddenly as she had brightened, she collapsed into his arms, her head thumping onto his shoulder.

'She had a life, Castle. A family. And now she's just got me.'

'Hey, she's got us.' He tightened his arms around her.

Her chin dug into his collarbone as she nodded. 'Us. Yes. Sorry. What am I even asking here? What, we're suddenly going to play happy families? We're her new Mom and Dad?' She pushed herself up and perched on the edge of the couch.

'Families come in all sorts of guises. We can't force anything on her. We don't know anything about her life.'

'I'm not her mother, Castle. I'm her birth mother. She had a mother and she died. Like mine. I can't just replace her. And yet. She's mine. For me, it's like she's returned home-'

'But that might not be how she feels.' He finished her sentence for her. 'Sure, this isn't going to be easy. We can only take it one day at a time. No expectations. She's chosen to be here and that's a start.' Kate snuggled back, her arms wrapping around him as she tucked her head under his chin. She was like a ping-pong ball, constantly moving towards and away from him.

'And I want to play happy families with you. You, being here with me, Kate, it's all I've wanted for years. Erin already has a place in my heart for making that happen sooner.' Her mouth widened beneath him.

'Richard Castle, you are such a softie.'

'A ruggedly handsome softie, I think you'll find.' Her chuckle vibrated deliciously through his chest. Soon, however, she slumped again.

'How am I going to tell my Dad?' she whispered.

'Did you ever plan on telling him? You said you'd tell me one day.'

'That's about us and our possible future. I never planned on telling him. It's complicated, Castle.'

He was so full of questions: how had she managed to hide a pregnancy from her father aged nineteen? Just how quickly had things gone south between them after her mother's murder? Beneath him, however, he could feel her bristling, like a cat raising its fur in warning. Instead, he said:

'Did you ever think about her contacting you when she was an adult?'

'Sure, I thought about that, a little. But she's only twelve, I had plenty of time to think about what I would do if she ever contacted me.'

'You put that behind another wall?'

'Castle, don't.'

'Sorry, sorry. I'm just trying to understand here, Kate.'

Suddenly, she sprang away from him. 'That's it isn't it. Everyone is going to judge me! How could she have given her baby away? How could she have been such a selfish brat!' she shouted. 'You, you would never have given a kid away!' She stood over him, panting, her hands fisting in and out.

His heart rate surged in defence, but he stood up with her, pulling her closely into him, trying to soften her hard edges with his larger body. 'Woah, Beckett, woah, that's not fair. I'm not judging you,' he whispered into her ear. 'I can't imagine what you went through to make that decision. I just want to understand, you have to let me in! I don't for a second think it was easy.' She was stiff, but he didn't let go and slowly she relaxed into him, her breathing calming down as his fingers peppered circles along her spine.

'You're right, Castle. Sorry, I just…'

'It's okay. It's a lot.'

They sat back down together, creating a single dent in the couch. He let her anger subside, relieved that she had responded so quickly to his attempts to comfort her. In the past he might have reacted more aggressively to an attack from her, his bottled frustration always close to the surface. But things were different now. She finally trusted him, and he needed to not let her default into pushing him away. Now, he had more than words, he also had the luxury of being able to comfort her physically. He ran his fingers up and down one arm, which caused her to shiver.

'Just one day at a time,' he said into her hair. 'What do you think we should do tomorrow with Erin?' Maybe bringing things back to the practical would be more solid ground for her? Her body seemed to harden to a point between the taut stiffness of the day and the liquid looseness of the evening, just as he hoped. She pondered for a while.

'I'll see if she wants to go shopping, she'll need clothes and I don't know what else – a cell phone maybe? Castle, you need to go to the Twelfth, find out what's happening with the case. I won't be happy till I know that whoever did this isn't coming after Erin.'

A/N Thank you for reviews, favourites and follows, so appreciated.

1) A couple of reviews hinted at concerns about realism with regard to adoption, safeguarding procedure etc. I hear those concerns, however, this is a Castle fanfic. The show Castle is a hyper real world and if we took realism too far we'd really be undermining the whole premise of the show. This is a fantasy and I'm not worried about what may or may not happen in the real world. Obviously that can be a killer for some readers but that's fine, I can't possibly write something that will please all readers.

2) So Castle turned out to be a lot less petulant than I initially imagined. Oh well, it's fun seeing how it doesn't always quite turn out as expected!

3) One of my criticisms (disappointments?) of the show - don't throw things - is the lack of tactile chemistry between the lead actors. At this point in the show, I feel they would be all over each other, especially Castle, desperate to constantly touch her. And if not able to touch, I feel that I, the viewer, should feel that they want to touch each other, that it would be in their body language, but it isn't (for positive examples, see Bones and The X -Files). So it's how I want to write them. I read a lot of fan fic whilst watching the show for the first time and I think fan fic really fuelled my acceptance of them as a couple because despite being such charismatic actors - I stan Stana - they lack physical chemistry with each other. But it can be written.

For my fellow Bones fans, of whom I think there are many amongst the Castle fandom:

'Woah'

'Horse'