Beckett: Rescue

Wednesday 28 November

'I'll be home as soon as I can.' From her desk, Beckett looked at the wall clock: 4.40. She still had a ton of paperwork to finish before five o'clock. Captain Gates has been surprisingly sympathetic to her new circumstances, but she wouldn't be Detective Kate Beckett if she expected preferential treatment now that she has a child to think about. Upon his return to the precinct this week, they decided that when needed during work hours he will be the parent at home. His exasperating and inspiring story-telling habits have brought a sense of fun back to her work. She's not the only one to appreciate his presence: Espo and Ryan have been bantering more. It was quieter today (which was good as they have wrapped up their latest case and it is easier to get paperwork done without him) because when he got up for breakfast, long after she had already left for work, he discovered Erin clammy and pale and coughing, and insisted she take the day off.

'Okay, but I think you need to get here. Something very weird is going on.' Her stomach tightened involuntarily. He knows she worries, triple fold since the allergy incident, so has sent reassuring texts all day. Erin probably just has a cold: she consciously loosens her stomach muscles and unclenches her fists, her nails having left red marks in her palms. It's the first time their arrangement has been tested and she is proud that outwardly she calmly let him take responsibility today. Her colleagues may tease her for being controlling but she doesn't apologise for her reaction after the allergy incident: she banned the school from letting her daughter have any seafood until she can be properly tested (she read on a deep dive on the internet that it's rare to be allergic to only one seafood).

'Is she sicker?'

'I don't know, that's the thing,' he admitted. Beckett pushed herself back from her desk. 'She stayed in her room all day. Mother could hear a peculiar scratching noise earlier but now she's turned on her music.'

'Tell her it was like when I was living in digs when I was at drama school.' Martha's voice sounded tinny in the background. 'Rats. And mice, day and night in the walls.' She pictured the odd couple huddling around Castle's cell phone on the landing outside the upstairs bedrooms.

Her eyes narrowed as she took a deep breath; she can't react to every little thing. Erin made that quite clear in the days after the allergy incident. It's odd, she never imagined herself being that fussy mom. They're probably just overreacting and being dramatic as usual. At least Castle isn't yet claiming the sounds are supernatural.

'Did she eat any lunch?'

'Loads. I made chicken soup. She left an empty bowl and plate outside her room - she ate a giant slab of bread and butter too.' Beckett and Erin have been enjoying Castle's recent penchant for fresh baguettes. 'Later, I was writing, and I heard something from the kitchen and when I came to check I caught her sprinting up the stairs with something in her arms. I don't think she can be that sick.' Beckett frowned: Erin had been full of energy earlier in the week but last night she hadn't been so chatty, claiming to have lots of reading to do and had stayed in her room all evening.

A lightbulb sparked alight. 'Castle, did you ever pull a sickie?' A scuffling sound echoed down the line as if shushing Martha away.

He whispered: 'Just once or twice. But why would Erin do that, she's been enjoying school?'

Erin's enthusiasm had surprised them. Marlowe Prep provided an abundance of after school clubs and already she had joined the soccer team, the Science club and the Choir. As she is quickly learning, the mind of this twelve-year old girl is a mystery.

'Look, I'll be home soon.' If something were really wrong, Castle wouldn't be calling her like this, she told herself.

When she strode through the front door, Martha and Castle were waiting. Like a vaudeville double act, they tripped over each other's sentences:

'Katherine, dear. She won't open the door to us-'

'We've knocked and knocked. She says she'll be out later.'

Martha lowered her voice, 'She doesn't sound ill to me.' The two women looked accusingly at Castle who stepped backwards at their judging faces.

'She definitely looked unwell this morning. She wanted to go to school but after I felt her forehead, I told her she should rest today!'

Kate shook her head and smiled. 'Honestly, Castle, did you never watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?' Sometimes she forgot how gullible he could be. It was sweet, really.

'You think she's pulling a Bueller?' He seemed genuinely appalled. She herself had skipped school on occasion but she had been much older and hadn't faked sickness for it.

Martha linked an arm through Beckett's. 'You have to forgive his naiveté, Katherine. Alexis was an angel; Richard has been somewhat spoilt in the parenting department.'

The thump thump thump of music that blared from Erin's room could be heard at the bottom of the stairs. She headed up with Castle and Martha tiptoeing behind her.

'Erin?' she rapped three times on the door. 'It's Kate. How are you feeling?' she said loudly, competing with the music.

The music stopped. They were right: there was a kind of scuffling and then a high-pitched sound that sounded, it couldn't be, like an animal. She hasn't, has she? Erin had convinced them to let her get the school bus home as a few of her classmates stopped at the same block. They had both arrived home later than usual last night and it had been the first time that no one had met Erin after school, Martha having been busy with her theater school. Erin had texted when she was home and had even sent pictures of the casserole she had reheated in the microwave, with thumbs ups and smiley face emojis. It hadn't been a day with an extra-curricular activity, so Erin had had plenty of time unsupervised last night to do something crazy, she realised.

The door opened a tiny amount. Erin scrunched herself up against it blocking any gaps the open door might afford. Martha was right, Erin didn't look at all ill. She looked down the hallway to Martha and Castle then beckoned Kate with a forefinger to come in. Were those dried tears?

The smell hit her first. Then a flash of something grey disappeared under the bed. What on earth was going on? Erin wrung her hands as she leaned back against the closed door. Kate scanned the room; one of Erin's shirts was wrapped into a stained bundle at the foot of the bed. There it was again, a pitiful mew mew mew coming from under the bed. Erin looked away, hopping from foot to foot, as slowly Kate bent down on all fours and peered beneath the bed.

In the shadows she could make out the crouched form of a grey and white cat, its manky fur sticking up at odd angles, and huddled together and mewing pathetically were four tiny kittens. The carpet around them was stained and the smell of cat faeces and urine made her gag. An empty bowl and another with water sat nearby.

The mangy cat hissed as, stunned, she stood back up, taking deep breaths as she tried to gather her wits. Erin looked guilty and terrified. Incongruously, Kate wanted to laugh. She felt lightheaded with relief: Erin wasn't sick, and she hadn't somehow smuggled in a dangerous wild animal as she had started to fear. This was manageable. Unexpected, but she could handle this. Kate took a step towards the bundle on the bed, but the child rushed forward, stopping her.

'One already died,' she sobbed. 'The mom stopped feeding them earlier today; she keeps batting them away. I tried to give them milk, but they wouldn't take it. They were doing alright last night, I thought I could make them better!' She pointed at the bed. 'The mom won't come out. I got her some raw chicken which she ate. I just wanted to save them but they're all going to die!'

'Where did you find them?' Kate knitted her eyebrows together tightly to stop herself from smiling: Erin was very upset and taking this very seriously.

'They were in an alley by the bus stop last night. I heard the mewing; they were in a bag. Someone had dumped them! I couldn't just leave them.' Kate felt something between proud and flabbergasted.

'Why didn't you get Rick or Martha?'

Erin sobbed harder. 'I don't know. I thought they'd be mad or something. I thought I could look after them. But then one kitten died, and I didn't know what to do and-' she hiccupped, unable to speak any more.

Gently, Kate squeezed Erin by her heaving shoulders. 'I'm going to talk to Rick, okay.'

'He'll let me keep them though, won't he, Kate?' she cried. A heaviness settled in her stomach. She had seemed so at ease with Castle, yet she had waited all day while the kittens got sicker and sicker for her to come home because it's her that she trusts: she hasn't asked her if she minds. A warmth like sunshine spread through her chest. On the other hand, does Erin feel, like she feared she herself would, like a guest in Castle's home? 'He doesn't like mess,' Erin chokingly insisted.

Kate picked up the tiny bundle. The shirt crumpled into a cold hardness not much larger than one hand as if it were a chewy candy around a nut.

'I'll take care of this, leave it to me,' she soothed. Erin briefly laid a trembling hand on the bundle as Kate walked to the door.

Once outside, Castle and Martha stared at her expectantly.

'So. Erin has done something…unpredictable. She rescued a cat and her kittens and brought them home.' Martha covered her mouth trying to suppress a shocked laugh.

'You mean, there's a cat, no, cats plural in there?' He pointed vehemently at the door. 'That there have been cats in there all day? Where have they been doing their business? They could have fleas,' he said, his voice nearing hysteria. Erin might have been on to something to be wary of his reaction.

'I didn't know you don't like cats.' She held the deceased kitten tighter.

'Oh, Richard hates cats. He once had a 'close encounter' with a kitten as a child.'

'You may mock, Mother, but that was a traumatic experience. You don't know, Beckett, what those little fiends are capable of. I was locked in a room with it, it scratched me all over!' Kate met Martha's eye and had to smother a laugh herself. Managing to keep a straight face, she explained:

'The mom isn't feeding the kittens. One has already died, and Erin is very upset.' She held up the bundle and Castle jumped back as if it might bite him.

'What do we do?'

'Did you never have pets?'

'No, pets were too big a commitment.' He glared at his mother who rolled her eyes in return. 'Besides if I wanted a pet, it would be a dog, not a cat.' He spat out the word.

'First of all, we need to get that cat out of there, Erin has scratches on her hands, it hissed at me, and it isn't feeding the kittens.' She looked his shuddering form up and down and turned instead to his mother. 'Martha, would you mind going to a pet store and getting a cat carrier? It needs go to a vet – maybe it's microchipped? We need to feed those kittens quickly. She clicked her fingers, thinking. 'What else, what else?' She wrinkled her nose. 'Litter tray, and litter-'

'We're keeping the kittens?' Castle gaped at her moronically.

Kate swayed over to him. 'At the very least shouldn't we stop a feline bloodbath from happening?' she said quietly. 'Let's just prevent more dead cats on our hands and then we can talk about what we do next. Is that okay?' God, it was hard enough having one child to worry about.

Martha meanwhile had leapt into action, thrilled with the drama.

'Your wish is my command, Katherine!'

'What are you going to do with…that?' With a repeated stabbing motion, he pointed at her chest. Maybe if she put Castle to work, he would calm down?

'Castle, find a cardboard box, and get some cleaner and cloths.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Get some blankets, and calm Erin down.'

With a grimace, Castle did as he was told. Once she had deposited the kitten in a box, Kate found blankets (her own, not Castle's) and went back into Erin's room where she lay on her belly, stretching an arm under the bed. Carefully avoiding the mother cat, Kate shifted the bed so that they could retrieve the shivering kittens. Kate wrapped them as one in a fuzzy aquamarine blanket. They edged out of the room (the carpet would need a deep clean) shutting the door behind them. Across the hallway, they huddled up on Alexis's bed, Erin only occasionally sniffing.

The kittens, a mixture of silver tabby and tortoiseshell, she could now see, let themselves be manhandled and cuddled. Erin cradled the blanket while Kate looked up cat information on her cell. They appeared to be about three weeks old: their eyes were open, and their ears pointed upwards. The internet instructed that they required warmth and they had stopped shivering. But they didn't move much, obviously needing food urgently.

It turned out that in a crisis, Martha is your go-to-gal. She may appear eccentric, dippy even, but today she reacted quickly and efficiently. From a local pet store, she called Kate whereupon she relayed several questions from an employee. It wasn't long before Martha returned laden with items. First and foremost was kitten formula and a large pack of syringes. Martha sat next to Erin on Alexis's bed, oohing and ahhing at the furballs. Castle stood cross-armed scowling at the door; Kate shooed him away with a glare.

They separated each of the kittens into blankets, except for two who Kate helped Erin position so she could feed them at the same time. The kittens sucked and mewed and guzzled the syringes gratefully. She and Martha took one each. As the loud suckling noises echoed around the room, Kate caught Erin's eye and she finally gave her a contented sigh and a smile.

Several yelps and squeals and unsavoury words came from Erin's room. A few minutes later, Castle stumbled back, panting, sweat across his forehead, his sleeves rolled up, with the cat in a carrier. He leaned against the door frame as if he had just been in the fight of his life. For a moment, she thought he might hiss at the carrier.

He looked at the three of them. 'Don't give me those Puss-in-Boots eyes,' he begged.

'Can we just make sure they get better, Rick? Please? I'll do all the work, I promise.'

'Actually, young lady,' said Martha, 'you should be in school tomorrow. Richard and I can manage.' Kate could have hugged Martha. Albeit they were working on making the loft their home but asking him to house four kittens who clearly frightened him, however ridiculous that was, made her feel awkward. She had always loved cats and her immediate reaction was that if they made Erin feel happy and at home then she had no problem homing them. Having Martha on side was a boon.

Castle looked as if he was about to protest but one look at his mother silenced him. Kate swallowed a snort.

'Come and look, Castle. Honestly, they're so sweet.'

He crept over and, keeping as far away as possible, peered into the blanket in her arms and sneered.

'I know I should have asked, but please, Rick,' Erin begged again. Castle looked at Kate who copied Erin's pitiful pleading look. He huffed and puffed but ultimately, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist her.

'You know they can't go outside? We're too high up, they would have to be indoor cats. Where would the litter go?' he argued.

'Richard, Richard, details, details,' his mother said before cooing at the kitten in her arms.

Kate stepped in to rescue him. 'It's not really reasonable to keep all four.' Erin started to interject but Kate held up a hand. 'Could we come to a compromise?' She turned her head from Castle to Erin.

'One. You can keep one,' he said, his jaw grinding.

'But they're brothers and sisters. Two? Please? Two?'

Kate looked again at Castle. She handed her blanketed kitten to Martha who happily received it. She6 edged off the bed and took Castle by the hand and led him out of the room and downstairs.

'We have to talk about this, Kate. That was a very impulsive thing that Erin did.'

'I know it was, but she just wanted to help.'

'I can see that but-'

'Is it really impossible for you to imagine having a couple of cats around the place? One bad experience doesn't make all cats bad.'

'I know that but they're evil! Throughout history cats have been reviled. Witches always had cats because-'

'You're calling us witches now?' Kate crossed her arms. It was fun watching him squirm.

'No. But you are all ganging up on me.' He fought with the pout trying to break out. It was killing him saying no. His nature was to please and he had complained often enough to her when he had been forced to set boundaries with Alexis. 'Are you telling me that you really don't mind that Erin just brought home-' he paused to count on his fingers, 'six cats, lied to us and bunked off school?'

'I'm pretty sure I did worse in my day,' she shrugged. 'She reminds me of you, actually. When you want something, you get it. Is that a quality we should knock out of her?' He shifted from foot to foot. She had him. The bluster of his strop started to recede.

'Fine but no more than two. And they can live upstairs.'

'Two, definitely just two,' she nodded sincerely.

'Two.' He held up two fingers and twisted his hand repeatedly.

A/N So this chapter has been my nemesis for days. The scene in my head just would not translate onto the page. I really struggled with Kate's voice in this. I feel like I'm using the same old physical bodily description to show their emotions - eurgh, how many frowns, scowls and knitted eyebrows can there be?! I've been reading On Writing by Stephen King and The Elements of Style (the only book related to creative writing that the master himself recommends) and in trying to employ their rules and philosophy my confidence has taken a knock. I hate to sound like I'm begging for reviews but I could really use some love and encouragement from fellow writers that I'm not totally useless and should give up writing forever!

I'm trying to weave this set of chapters into a narrative crescendo and really hope you readers are staying with me and are not bored! If you like drama and a bit more angst there is definitely more coming up (I'm conscious of not trying to have too much angst as several reviewers have expressed their desire to not have it overloaded with angst. A difficult balancing act to keep!)