Dreams

Wednesday 26 December

Kate's neck was stiff. In fact, every part of her - every muscle, every limb - ached. Yet she felt warm and surrounded by the softness of bodies. She cracked open an eye and hopelessly tried to lift her head.

She was sprawled on her side, against the back of Castle's couch, her head resting in his lap. Under her sandbag of an arm was Erin, tucked against her, knees to her chest, her hands hidden under her cheek; the hair on the top of the girl's head tickled Kate's chin. Her breath was even and slow with sleep. Kate had partially draped the knee on her non-casted leg over Erin's feet which were covered in her favourite woolly socks. She could only feel the fuzzy contact, as they were both covered with blankets. At the foot of the couch and spread out along her legs, hips and over the tight curve of Erin, slept the four kittens, flat on their stomachs, limbs splayed, like basking lizards.

She craned her neck to look up at Castle. Sitting upright in his pyjamas, he was fast asleep, oblivious to the world with his head thrown back, his mouth open and snoring softly. She felt now his hand heavy on her elbow above the blanket as if he had pulled it up as high as he could but had then given up, seized by an enchanted slumber.

As if wading through sludge, she hugged Erin closer to her, smiling as she nestled into Castle's thigh, hunkering into their combined heat.

She savoured that dreamlike state between awake and asleep, serene in her human cocoon. The room was lit only by the Christmas tree and Manhattan's light pollution. She wondered what time it was. When had they fallen asleep? Why were they all on the couch together? The freshly laundered linen smell of Castle's pyjamas mingled with the scent of coconut body wash. Her own satin pyjamas were smooth against her skin. The three of them were clean unlike-

She jerked upwards, the memories of the last 24 hours came crashing down on her.

x

When Beckett, Castle and Erin had walked out of the cabin into the clearing, Esposito had followed them, calling to the team for a medic. Between them, Castle and Beckett supported Erin for a few steps before the weight became too much - Kate's fractured ankle angrily protested the earlier sprinting - and the three of them sunk carefully to the ground. Twigs dug into her knees as Beckett kneeled and turned Erin to face her, holding her steady by her upper arms, padded by Castle's NYPD jacket on top of her own coat; Castle crouched behind, a pillar.

A female trooper rushed to them, a large medical kit in hand.

'We need to check you over, Erin, is that okay?' said Beckett, searching Erin's distraught, grubby face.

As if she hadn't heard the question, with her hands shivering at her chest, Erin started to stammer through chattering teeth, 'I knew you'd come…she said you'd come.'

Beckett frowned, tucking the statement away for later. She leaned in closer, the medic crouching down too.

'Erin, did he hurt you?'

Dazed, Erin touched the bruise near her eye and blinked at the raw marks on her wrists.

Beckett gave a curt nod and scanned her again, more thoroughly this time. Erin's bare knees and shins were scratched as if she had fallen on the ground – Tommy must have made her walk through the forest in the dark from where he had dumped the Toyota Camry. The pumps were a scuffed, soiled mess.

She didn't want to keep asking; she didn't want to spell it out, a twelve-year-old shouldn't understand what she was implying.

'Did he…touch you?'

Erin looked at her blankly.

'Where he shouldn't?' Beckett prompted, swallowing the foul reflux in the back of her throat.

Erin gasped, her understanding evident. She shook her head vigorously. 'No, no, he didn't, nothing like that.'

Beckett and the medic exchanged uncertain glances. Erin touched Kate's hand; her fingers were like ice. 'I promise, he didn't.'

Beckett couldn't look up; she could feel Castle's fury and relief boring into her.

x

Kate lifted her head to look down at Erin, unmoving under the blanket. Could it really have happened? Here they were in the loft, the decorations as they were. Only yesterday it had been Christmas. Since then, they couldn't really have travelled hundreds of miles to rescue Erin from a deranged stalker, could they? She flashed back to the moment when she had looked at Erin's empty chair. Had she been dreaming?

It had been a nightmare, she told herself. A terrible, terrible nightmare that she must purge. It had felt so real. But why was Erin now curled up in her arms? Careful not to disturb either Erin or Castle, Kate shifted herself upward, supporting her weight on an elbow. Peeved, the kittens stretched their claws and yawned. Erin's hair had fallen over her face. She stroked it back behind her ear - both her hair and forehead were slightly damp she noted - and an indisputable fat bruise glared up at her.

It wasn't a dream. Kate waved a hand over Erin's arms, hovering just millimetres above her. She felt lightheaded, disorientated. She skimmed her fingers back and forth over Erin's parted lips, her breath hot and wet on her fingers. The relief that Erin was mostly unharmed convulsed through her, again.

They had decided not to take her to hospital.

After examining her, the medic said, 'Erin is cold, hungry, tired and frightened. But there is no major trauma,' - Kate knew she meant physical trauma, but she bristled at the false statement nonetheless – 'she's not exhibiting pain related to serious injury, nothing is broken, she's not bleeding. I think she is better off at home with her family.' She gave Kate a reassuring pat on the back before walking away to give them their privacy.

Esposito maintained a guard, keeping everyone at a distance while she and Castle helped Erin to the helicopter. Conversations happened beyond her earshot - she didn't care, all her attention was on Erin – so she didn't know how they agreed that the chopper would take them back to New York, or who authorised it, or how Tommy Cawood would be transported from the hill.

With Erin huddled in blankets between them, Beckett and Castle spent the journey holding bottles of water for her to sip, worried about dehydration, stopping her from swallowing it too quickly.

Erin sagged against her, whimpering in between sips.

'She said you'd come, she did, she did.' Erin clasped one of Kate's hands, an unyielding frozen grip that Kate didn't want to let go.

Confused, Kate had soothed and shushed her, rubbing up and down her arms and back.

She barely recalled returning to the loft. Only the cries of joy and the hugs and the tears from Martha, Alexis and her father still echoed. Kate, Erin and Castle were filthy from the forest and the anxiety. She didn't have to think – they were fussed over, each sent packing to the bathrooms for hot showers. When Alexis had led Erin up the stairs, they had reluctantly let go of each other's hands while Martha guided Kate in the opposite direction.

She remembered now. Changed and clean, and Erin finally warmed up, she had sat down with Castle and Erin to watch a movie (choosing the most normal activity they could think of) all the while being pampered and fed and watered by the rest of the clan. None of them had had any energy to resist; no one wanted to talk. They must have passed out almost instantly, their parents covering them with blankets.

That must have been hours ago – it had been light – and now there was no sign of the others.

As she looked down at her daughter sleeping peacefully, like a fog lifting, the meaning of Erin's earlier words revealed itself. Niamh. She had been talking about Niamh. Throughout the ordeal, Kate realised, she wasn't the only one who had felt the dead woman's presence. Somehow, as she had felt judged by Niamh, Erin had been comforted by her. An epiphany popped into Kate's head: a truth she couldn't believe she had had to go through the last day to realise. She yawned as she thought that tomorrow she would ask for her father's help.

The silver tabby kitten – she couldn't tell if it was Lyra or Pan - on her hip that had been woken by her movement, padded, balancing along her arm, towards her face. As if it were pushing her down, Kate let her elbow drop and repositioned herself on Castle's unflinching thigh-pillow. Her arms re-encased Erin, her thumbs starting a rhythmic stroke at the top of her head and near a raw wrist. The kitten sniffed along her jawline and her hair then, satisfied, circled three times before settling on Kate's neck and shoulder. It stretched a paw across her mouth and closed its eyes, letting out a little sigh. Taking the hint, Kate too closed her eyes.

x

Castle startled awake. He felt something wet on his thigh. Kate's head was heavy in his lap; a tiny patch of drool was soaking through his pyjamas. He shuffled in disgust. In all the years he had imagined being with the stunning Kate Beckett, that she had a habit of drooling when fast asleep was not one of the onion layers he had expected to find. It was both adorable and gross.

He blinked rapidly, clearing away the sleep. His hand had fallen between the couch and Kate's back. A kitten had wrapped itself around her neck; he lifted it up, ignoring its mewls of protest, and deposited it at arm's length further down the couch. Of its own accord, his heavy hand returned to Kate's head, her cherry-scented hair too inviting not to stroke.

Kate had tucked Erin tightly to her. A tide of relief and love surged up, forcing the air from Castle's lungs in a long sigh.

From the moment Erin had been taken he had avoided ruminating about their future and what could have happened. Inspired by Beckett's strength, he had focused only on the endgame of getting Erin home. With the sight of them safe, now that he didn't have to fear them, those hypothetical terrors erupted like a mass of insects. He was in awe of how Kate survived every day with the grief and injustice of her mother's murder. It was devastating to imagine a reality in which her child too was stolen permanently from her, to imagine how she – how they – would survive that. What if it had been Alexis?

Castle rubbed his eyes and shook his head. No point thinking about that, everything was fine now. Well, Erin was home and mostly uninjured. What psychological damage had been done had yet to be determined.

At that moment, he felt a ripple of movement beneath him as the couch shifted. Erin slinked forward, slipping out from under the blanket to the floor. Unaware that he was watching in the dim light, she kneeled and delicately replaced Kate's arm on the couch behind her. Kate was a dead weight, profoundly asleep. Then Erin leaned in close to her face and with two fingers slowly caressed the contour of her mother's cheek.

He waited stock still so as not to scare her. Erin stroked Kate's hair back from her forehead and gave her a peck on the temple before sliding backwards.

Castle whispered, 'Everything okay?'

'Shhh, she's asleep,' Erin replied, scowling and firmly bringing a finger to her lips. Castle was both surprised and encouraged to see her bossy side emerge so soon.

He played along, sarcastically churlish. 'I know, that's why I'm whispering!'

Pushing herself up from her knees, Erin said, 'Just going to the bathroom.' It sounded more like, 'don't you dare wake her up.'

When they rescued her, Erin was shocked and scared but astoundingly she seemed to have bounced right back. Castle knew that couldn't be the full story, and they were expecting a call from an FBI kidnap trauma specialist the next day, but for now her sass made his heart feel lighter.

His mouth felt like sandpaper. He rubbed his cheek, pleasurably silky now it was clean-shaven. As carefully as Erin had done, he lifted Kate's head and shimmied out from beneath her, lying her back down flat. She stirred, a crease appearing between her brows; for a moment he thought she would wake, but she settled back, her features smooth again, and the persistent tabby took up residence under her chin.

Erin returned, yawning, as he glugged a large glass of water by the kitchen sink. He proffered one to her and she stepped onto a stool by the counter and nodded while she reached for a banana from the fruit bowl. Her colour was back to normal and she no longer shivered, sitting for all the world as if it was just another day. He himself felt limp and wrung-out. The agonising not-knowing if they would find her, the anticipation that they were so close, and then finding her and being able to touch her and know that she really was alright added up to an exhaustion that was exquisitely complete. It was one thing to write suspense in his novels, but he didn't ever want to experience it again for real.

Now that the drama was over, he felt awkward, he didn't know where to start. Should he ask her, 'How are you feeling?' Maybe he shouldn't refer to what had just taken place, maybe it was the last thing she wanted to talk about? He wished they could fast forward back to normal. As he considered what to say, he filled a glass from the filter in the fridge while she peeled the banana.

'How is she doing?' asked Erin, titling her head back towards the couch.

'Just happy to have you home. As am I.' The red bruising on her face made him wince. It made the smile that was meant to show just how relieved he was into more of a grimace. He wasn't ready to ask her about the details of how she got it, just the thought of Tommy Cawood incited rage. If he could rub it out, erase the last day, he would, just as he would the two small chicken pox scars beneath it.

Just as Erin was about to spin away towards Kate, Castle realised her intention to wake her and leant across the counter and took the second banana she had grabbed from the fruit bowl from her, pulling her back towards him. 'And it's not your job to look after her.'

Erin narrowed her eyes at him. 'She ran on a broken ankle,' she snapped, her tone suggesting she thought him a fool.

He didn't baulk, possibly he was just too tired or too relieved to have her home. She had the right to be moody, after all.

'Sorry,' Erin berated, shaking her head, angry with herself. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to snap.'

'It's okay,' he comforted, quickly placing a glass of water in front of her. 'It's been a long night. I know I said once, "we look after her" but really, I mean me,' he said softly, the point, he felt, needing to be spelled out. 'And she's fine – tired, and a bit sore but she's resting.' Erin didn't need to hear about what the last 24 hours had been like for them both.

Erin sighed, dropping her elbows heavily on the counter. 'Yeah, I get that. I know, you're the parents, I'm the child,' she chanted. 'I just…' Erin looked over her shoulder at Kate.

Castle sensed the words on the tip of her tongue. 'It's alright, you can say it,' he encouraged, trying to control his excitement. He watched as Erin squirmed on the stool.

Getting to know Erin had been like starting down a road and repeatedly having to divert. Kate had been so frustrated by the lack of knowledge about Erin's past. After their visit to the Walkers, Erin's sensitivity to getting in trouble now made sense. When she had been the victim, she was the one sent away and branded a troublemaker. No wonder she had needed time to trust them.

Maybe it was her age or maybe it was everything she had been through, but Castle had found that Erin could be shy and skittish or loud and brash one minute, moody and sulky or silly and playful the next. Most of the time that he had spent with her, just the two of them, they had played – computer games, laser tag – and she was seemingly then at her most carefree. But after Erin's therapist had told them she had been performing a role for them, he had realised that the playfulness could be as much of a charade as her bravado. Where he had once felt petulant and jealous that Erin seemed to care more about Kate's wellbeing than his, now, however, he was pleased that, whatever performance was happening, she didn't extend that unnecessary concern to him.

The moments he liked best were the rare times that she dropped the playfulness, when she was earnest, open and put her trust in him. When she told him what she really thought and felt. Now was such a moment and the anticipation of what she was about to confess was electric.

Erin turned back, looked balefully at him and shrugged. 'I thought I might not ever get to tell her. I love her.'

His heart thumped like a bass drum. The simplicity of the ultimate expression of intimacy was tremendous.

Best to maintain a casual demeanour; he didn't want to accidentally discourage Erin from telling Kate herself because he had made too much of a fuss. With effort, he kept his voice steady. 'I know you do. Me too.'

Erin let out a long sigh; her anxiety evaporated into relief.

'Do you think she knows?'

'Of course she knows, and you can tell her when you're ready.'

Castle watched Erin settle back into contemplation, working her way through the banana, shoulders hunched. He couldn't wait to tell Kate what she had said. This was more than Alexis telling them what Erin felt, this was Erin having faith to open up to them – to him – in person. He knew that Kate had at times come close to saying I love you to Erin herself, but something had held her back, fear perhaps that it would be too much for Erin to hear. He cleared his glass away, not wanting to embarrass her by revealing just how happy she had made him.

Behind him, out of nowhere, he heard her say firmly, 'Thank you.' Perplexed, he turned around to find her drawn upright, chin jutted forwards, looking up confidently to meet his surprised stare; the banana skin lay abandoned on the counter, her hands were crossed in her lap.

Castle shook his head. 'For what?' he said. He had no idea what she was talking about.

'For this,' she said, waving a hand behind her, gesturing to the loft. 'For letting me stay here. For coming to find me. For just…being there.'

His cheeks flushed. He didn't usually feel embarrassed. Even when Beckett would say something snarky and bring him down a peg or two at the precinct, it was the thrill of her flirtation that he would feel, not embarrassment. He was just happy that Erin was able to confide in him the depth of her feelings for Kate, he didn't need any credit for his role.

'Well…er….' He gathered himself, standing upright, rubbing the back of his neck. 'This is your home. Yours and Kate's, and I am-'

'Yes,' she interrupted, her shoulders square, locking eyes with him defiantly as if she looked away, she might lose her nerve.

He stumbled, blinking to keep up. He really was still very tired.

'Yes. I accept your offer to adopt me too.'

Oh. It was like being hit in slow motion by a very large but very soft mallet, knocking the breath from him. A wide smile slowly broke out across his face as she shyly matched his. She slid off the chair and he almost burst out laughing when she stuck out a hand for him to shake. This was the Erin he admired: her mother's daughter, determined not to be cowed even by her own nervousness. The one who could be knocked down and jump right back up again. He worried how much that resilience masked their traumas but with love and care, as his relationship with Kate had demonstrated, the two of them could be both vulnerable and strong.

Laughing, he shook his head and opened his arms wide. She stepped forward and let him pull her into a hug, wrapping her arms around him.

He felt her murmuring against his chest, then a sob. Was she crying? He held her more tightly. Deep in his bones, he knew he would never let anything happen to her again.

Thursday 27 December

Middle of the night

Kate woke to silence. And emptiness. And coldness. She looked first at the spaces where Erin and Castle had been and then, sitting up – scattering kittens - she scanned the loft. Panicked, she jumped to her feet, blankets falling to the floor. She stumbled into her bedroom, turning on the light without worrying about waking her partner. But the bed was still made, clearly having not been slept in. Feeling groggy and confused, she headed for the staircase, hopping up the steps as fast as her sluggish body would allow, fuelled by the same unspeakable fear that she had felt from the moment she realised Erin was missing. As the panic was crescendo-ing, her mind only able to repeat 'she's in her room, she's in her room', she was brought to a halt. Panting, she leaned a shoulder against the wall. Outside Erin's room, lay Castle, curled up, fast asleep.

Castle groaned as he felt himself being jolted awake. He was being prodded. But in a gentle way. Something soft was being pushed against his cheek.

'Shhh, Castle. Just lift your head a little.'

He complied with the quiet voice. He kept his eyes closed as he let Kate shove a pillow beneath him and then felt the warmth and heaviness of a blanket. No, not a blanket. Heavier. His king-size duvet. Then he could feel her beside him, under the duvet, and lifting his arm over her waist and snuggling into him.

Kate ran a thumb over his smiling lips. 'Are you alright?' she whispered.

'Better now you're here,' he murmured.

Wait. Where was here? Castle opened his eyes suddenly and Kate shushed him, stroking his neck, pulling him back down to the floor.

'You fell asleep outside Erin's room.'

Ah, he remembered now. He had followed Erin up to her room and then once they had said goodnight, he had sat down against her door, just for a minute, the idea of leaving Erin upstairs – even with Martha and Alexis presumably in their rooms - discomforting. He looked hard at Kate now. She had dragged the massive duvet up the stairs with her broken foot. At least he wasn't the only one who needed to be close to Erin. He plumped up the pillow and tucked the duvet around them so that they could sleep off their terror together, certain that their child would be there when they wake up.

Epilogue

Friday 28 December

Kate stood outside Erin's bedroom, a tray balanced in one hand as she knocked on the door. When she heard a quiet 'come in' she peeked around the door, beaming, her eyes sparkling.

'Hey, birthday girl,' she said, chuckling as she crossed the room and set the tray next to Erin, who was shuffling upright, rubbing her eyes – the bruise now in its deep purple phase - and smiling.

Erin looked at the tray with its large pink helium balloon declaring Happy Birthday 13 Today attached and the smiling yet hesitant stance of her mother who now sat down on the edge of the mattress, near her feet. There was just one neatly wrapped present on the tray next to a pile of cards and a chocolate milkshake. Kate had plied her with fatty drinks every hour, it seemed, yesterday. The kittens, perched on different platforms of the jungle gym, stretched and unfurled themselves before settling into tiny loaves, watching them, nosy and expectant.

Yesterday had been strange. After sleeping for what felt like days, Erin had almost fallen over Rick and Kate planted outside her bedroom door. She had been relieved when Martha had appeared and bustled them all into action. The day had whizzed by; they finally opened all the presents. She and Alexis had chased each other with laser-tag as Alexis had bought her her own gun. She could feel the awkward concern of the adults, scrutinising her, assessing her reaction to every loud noise, choosing their words carefully. She wished they wouldn't. Erin couldn't explain it, but once she was back at the loft, back with her family, she felt fine, calm even, as if it had just been a bad dream. She even felt disconnected from the frightened crying state she had been in when she had been rescued. Being taken by Tommy had been terrifying. But it was over. And he wasn't coming back. Kate and Rick had found her, and that was all that mattered.

Martha and Alexis had squealed with delight when they announced the adoption. She was relieved that no one tried to quiz her on the details of what had happened – as far as she was concerned, they could all just forget about it though when she caught Kate's eye she had a feeling she wasn't going to get away with that approach. Thankfully, the only teary moment had been when she told them that the reason she had gone downstairs on Christmas Day was because she had decided she wanted to accept Rick's offer but didn't know how to say it so had wanted to make a card instead. It's what had driven her to be brave enough to overcome her shyness and just tell him in person.

Kate watched Erin survey the tray. Her chest was tight with nerves, worried if she was doing the right thing. Her gut told her to follow her instinct. She could barely believe how quickly Erin had seemed to recover. They had talked very little about what happened. The trauma specialist from the FBI advised them to take Erin's lead with what she wanted to talk about. Kate respected the advice and took the expert's knowledge seriously, but she had been repeatedly told to let Erin take the lead and to not push her to share. But Erin had kept so much to herself, Kate hadn't known the real risk that she had been in. So while she wouldn't push for Erin to talk about the abduction until she was ready, Kate was going to take the initiative elsewhere.

'I wanted to get you something special and I was thinking and thinking and then I realised that I already knew what to give you.'

Erin's frown was curious and excited. Kate picked up the small package and held it out to Erin. As Erin reached to accept it, Kate warned, 'You can open it but you don't have to look at it, if you don't want to.'

'What is it?' Erin reached again for the package, impatient now.

'It's a photograph. That I found in the storage unit.'

As if the package were hot, Erin's hands paused just as she touched the wrapping, her demeanour shifting, like shedding a skin. Suddenly she too was nervous; she pulled her fingers away, then while Kate held it out unmoving, waiting, giving her time, slowly she took the gift. Taking a deep breath, Erin began to unwrap the purple and blue shiny paper. The black backing of the frame was revealed first. She pulled the wrapping away and breathing heavily lay the photo frame face down in her lap.

Erin's eyes were shining as she met Kate's.

'I remember the frame,' Erin whispered.

Kate leant forward and said quietly, 'You've told me over and over to keep out of the past and I have tried to do that. But when I was trying to think about what to get you for your birthday, I realised something. I have already given you your present, the day you were born.' Kate tapped the back of the photograph. 'Your childhood. Niamh and Daniel. You said that she told you that I would come to find you. She came to me too. She's always with us and she, they, don't belong buried in a facility somewhere. They should be here with us.'

Nodding, a tear splashed from Erin's cheek onto the back of Kate's hand.

'I can't…can you…'

Kate shifted around the bed so that she sat beside Erin. She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into her side, kissing the top of her head.

'Are you ready?'

Erin nodded and together they turned the photograph of Niamh and Daniel and Erin over.

Castle appeared at the door waving a spatula. Together, they looked at his grinning face.

'Who fancies a birthday smorelett?'

-fin-

A/N

Oh my goodness. Well, that's that then.

Thank you to all the amazing readers who have commented, enthused, corrected errors, sent me messages telling me to hurry up, favourited and followed. I know it's just another fan fiction but to me this was really important. It took a year to write something I didn't know I had in me. I didn't know before I started it that I should be a writer. The personal and creative epiphanies I have had writing this are too many to count and perhaps they would seem hubristic and pretentious to someone else but to be in my 40s and to step into my creativity and learn I am a writer was a huge deal for me. Turns out I had to write a novel to know that I can write a novel! So that's what I plan on doing now. I want to explore my own universe and own original characters. I may be some time.

However, I know I won't be able to work on a novel full time because of children and holidays. So I have been thinking that as people have been saying to me that they want to see more of the future with these characters, if you have ideas or prompts, leave them in the comments/PM me and I can think about some one-shots, if there's an audience for them. Personally I'm all for a spin-off for the kittens...!