Kate wakes to little fingers running through her hair and her eyes peel open, head slowly rising from its spot on the edge of Annie's hospital bed. When she looks up, she finds her daughter awake, staring at her with a small smile.
"Hi, baby," she murmurs, inching closer to brush the bangs from her face. "How long have you been awake?"
Annie shrugs. "Not long, Mommy. You looked tired so I let you sleep."
Oh, this kid.
"That's very sweet of you, Ann." She looks at her daughter, takes her face in her hand, her palm on her cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay."
"Does it hurt?" she asks, eyes trailing down to the spot where doctors had removed an organ from her child not 24 hours earlier. "They said it'll probably be sore for a little bit, so we'll have to be extra careful."
"A little," she admits as she leans her head back against the pillow. "When I try to move it hurts. Not like it did before."
"And it won't hurt like that again," she promises. "The bad parts were taken out and once you heal it'll feel all better."
Kate watches as her daughter nods, her eyes wandering the hospital room.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we go home yet?" Annie asks, eyes identical to her own staring back at her, hope floating in the irises and she really hates that she has to be the one to tell her daughter that she'll be here until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.
Kate sighs, pulls one of Annie's hands into her own. "No, sweetie," she says quietly, shaking her head. "The doctors need to keep you here for another day to make sure everything's okay."
It takes a few seconds, but she sees the moment Annie realizes what this means.
"But... it's Christmas Eve. Tomorrow's Christmas! We can't be here for Christmas!" Kate puts a hand on her blanketed knee, squeezes. "Santa won't know to bring the presents here! He'll bring them home but we won't be there and there'll be no presents!"
"Santa will find us, Ann," she promises. "He has a way of knowing where everyone is on Christmas."
Tears swimming in her eyes, Annie looks at her mother in disbelief. "How?"
"He's Santa, silly." She bops her daughter on the nose, grinning at the small, watery smile it elicits. "That's his job, and he has a bunch of helpers."
"Like the elves?"
Kate nods. "Exactly like the elves. They don't just help make and wrap the toys for all of the children, you know. They keep track of where everyone is so they can let Santa know where to bring the presents."
"But what if they miss me?"
"They'd never miss you."
"How do you know?" she asks, so very concerned that Santa might skip over her because she's in the hospital, so hesitant that Kate needs to make sure this is her best Christmas yet, circumstances notwithstanding.
She leans forward, presses a kiss to Annie's temple. "Because you're far too special to miss."
Annie grins, lets out a small giggle that sets Kate's heart on fire. The thought of her little girl stuck here for Christmas is heartbreaking, and she wishes there was anything she could do. She'll bring a few of her presents here, of course, go grab them while Annie's asleep later so there's something to open. She can't bring them all, knows she won't be able to carry everything on her own and that there should be something under the tree when she gets home anyway.
There's not much to do in the hospital room, so Kate runs down to the gift shop to look for something they'd be able to entertain themselves with. She finds a stack of cards and not much else, but she buys them and brings them back to the room, figures they can play Go Fish.
Annie's sitting up when she gets back and she greets her with a smile.
"Look at you," she laughs, her grin widening when her daughter shoots her a proud look in return.
"Nurse Sam said I can sit up for a little bit as long as it doesn't start to hurt too much!"
"Did she now," Kate says. She holds up the bag hanging from her wrist. "I got something for us."
The girl looks on excitedly as she pulls out the stack of cards (and a candy bar, because it's Christmas Eve and she deserves it) and places it on the little tray table in front of Annie.
"What do you say to a game of Go Fish, m'lady?"
"I say you're going down, Mommy."
Kate huffs, let's out a low howl. "Ooh, we've got some confidence in our Go Fish abilities, do we now," she teases.
"Uh huh. Grandpa taught me all the tricks." There are really no tricks to Go Fish, but she chuckles at the thought of her father teaching his granddaughter the ins and outs of the game. "And Mac...Magician Rummy!"
She blinks, pursing her lips to conceal laughter. "Grandpa taught you how to play Michigan Rummy?"
"Yeah, that one! It's fun, we should play."
"Maybe later, bud," she says with a smile, patting the girl's shin. "I'll have to talk to Grandpa first."
She opens the deck of cards, deals them each the appropriate number, and the game begins. She doesn't figure out what the "tricks" are that her father's taught Annie, doesn't see anything different about the game at all, but the grins that take over her daughter's face make it seem as though she thinks she's employing them.
Annie wins the first round, Kate the second and the third, and then Annie brings out the win for the fourth game and sets them at a tie.
"One more," Annie says, shoving the cards into the middle pile to be shuffled. "Can't stay tied, Mommy."
She chuckles. "You should nap first," she suggests instead, taking in her daughter's heavy lids, the way she fights to keep them open.
"'M not tired."
Kate gathers the cards and sticks them back in the box, ignoring Annie's whine in protest. "You're still recovering, baby, your body needs rest," she says quietly, removing the adjustable tray from the bed and sticking it back to the side. "Tell you what, you take a nap and let your body sleep off some of the medication, and when you wake up I'll let you open a present."
Truth is, she was going to let her open a present regardless—it is Christmas Eve after all, it's tradition, and she's grateful that she'd forgotten to take the one small present out of her bag from when she'd wrapped it at the precinct—but she really does need her rest, and she can tell by the slump of her shoulders and the drowsiness in her eyes that it'll do her good.
"There are presents here?" Annie asks, perking up.
"Yup. I've got one in my bag for you to open, but nap first."
"Okay," she agrees on a nod, but then her face falls after a moment. "Mommy, your present is at home! You have to open one too!"
"It's okay, I can open my present when we get home."
"But we always open one together," she insists.
"I know," she nods, rubbing soothing circles on the girl's kneecap. "This year's just going to be a little different, that's all. I promise I'll open whatever present you want me to first when we get back home, okay?"
Little shoulders sag against the back of the bed, body deflated in disappointment, and Kate feels herself doing the same. She isn't worried much at all about opening her own presents, only cares that Annie can open hers like she always does, but she didn't know how important it was to the girl that they open one together on Christmas Eve.
This really does suck.
"Okay," the girl agrees eventually, letting out a sigh.
"Rest, Ann," Kate breathes, pushing a few rogue strands of hair behind her ears, her fingers lingering in her hair. "I'll be right here."
Once she's sure Annie's out cold, she stands from the spot in the chair she's rooted herself to, pulls the blankets up to her shoulders. It's now that she realizes she'd forgotten Squirt, Annie's stuffed sea turtle. Naturally, getting her wailing child out of the apartment and to the hospital was first priority; she wasn't really thinking about grabbing the girl's favorite stuffed animal along the way, but she feels bad now having forgotten it, knows the comfort she takes in it.
She carries him around the house (never outside, though Kate's sure she would if she wasn't so adamant that she's "too old to bring my stuffed animal everywhere, Mommy"), has ever since her Grandpa had given him to her for her birthday two years ago.
Casting one last look at her sleeping daughter, Kate moves from the room, takes a seat in one of the two chairs along the wall. She pulls her phone from her pocket, letting out a sigh as she reads over the missed text messages.
Dialing her best friend's number, she crosses her legs and holds the phone to her ear.
"What's going on?" is the greeting she gets, and she huffs a laugh.
"Hi, Lanie."
"Hello, now what's going on? You don't show up to the precinct and call a few hours later to inform the boys you need the day off? Which is fine, girl, we all know you could use a break, but no explanation?"
"Lanie," Kate interjects. "I'm in the hospital, and before you freak out—"
"Too late. Hospital? Which hospital? Are you okay? Is my little chica okay?"
"Annie had appendicitis, had to have emergency surgery, but she's already out. The surgery went well and she's resting right now."
There's a gasp on the other end. "Oh my poor girl," Lanie murmurs. "Is she getting the best treatment? I know someone down at the hospital and I can call—"
Kate chuckles. "She's getting very efficient treatment, I promise. I appreciate the offer though, we both do."
"Okay, girl. But if you need someone to fluff my favorite niece's pillows, I'd be happy," Lanie says, and Kate smiles to herself. "When is she getting discharged? You know I have a handful of presents for her to open, and I need to see her reaction to each one."
"You really need to stop spoiling her."
"But she's so easy to spoil!"
Kate laughs. "Believe me, I know," she says, because it's so terribly hard not to spoil her daughter whenever she gets the chance. She's not spoiled, though. She has enough and she's one of the most grateful little girls she's ever known, and so Kate takes every opportunity to give her things that she wants when she can. "She has to stay the night, unfortunately."
"Aw, Christmas in the hospital?"
"Sadly," Kate sighs. "I'm going to head home once she's asleep for the night, bring a few presents for her to open tomorrow morning so it feels at least a little like Christmas."
Lanie hums in agreement. "You could pop by here if you want to, give some variety to the presents."
"I thought you needed to see her reaction to each one?" she teases.
"I do, but I can spare one present to cheer up my girl on Christmas," Lanie says, and Kate's smile widens. "Plus, I'll kick your skinny little butt if you don't record her reaction for me."
Laughter bubbling to the surface, Kate nods to herself. "Of course. I'll give you a call when I'm coming by then? Oh, and let the boys know? I wanna get back in by Annie."
"Sounds good. Will do, Kate. Give her a kiss for me," Lanie requests.
Kate promises to give Annie a hug and kiss on Lanie's behalf and then hangs up, stuffing her phone back into her pocket and leaning against the cushioned back of the chair. Oddly comfortable for a hospital chair.
The bustle of the hospital continues around her, doctors and nurses making their way to and from wherever it is they need to be, patients shuffling through the hallways in their gowns, family members of patients heading to and from a visit.
"Hey."
Turning, she finds the familiar face of Richard Castle standing a few feet away.
"Hi," she says, offering him a small smile. "How's your mom doing?"
"Oh it's as if it never happened. She's back to her usual theatrical self, more worried about missing a show and the burden of hiding or decorating a cast."
Kate chuckles. "Sounds like a handful." Rick huffs as if to say you have no idea. "Is she an actress?"
He nods. "Stage actress. Mostly Broadway."
"That's incredible. I can't remember the last time I went to a show on Broadway," she muses out loud. "I was probably Annie's age."
"Oof, my mother would insist you head to a show immediately," he laughs, shaking his head. "Annie, that your daughter?" At her nod, he softens. "How is she?"
"She's doing... fairly well for a girl who's just had her appendix removed," she decides, sigh escaping her lips. "Not thrilled she'll be stuck here tonight, but I can't fault her for that."
"For Christmas? That's the worst for anyone, but especially a kid."
"I know. It'd be better if the room was a little festive, I think, but it's so white, so—so much like a hospital, that I just... I want it to feel like Christmas for her, you know?" She pauses, chuckling to herself. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, I'm sorry."
He shakes his head. "Don't be sorry," he insists. "I'm a good listener, and hey, I get it. What parent doesn't want to make Christmas special for their kid?"
"Do you have kids?"
"Oh, no," he tells her. "My uh, my ex-wife wasn't really mother material. Couldn't have a baby ruining her 'actress figure'."
The disdain in his voice tells her that he really did (does?) want children, and she finds herself judging the woman he speaks of even though she shouldn't, even though she doesn't know her. She knows motherhood isn't for everyone, hell, she didn't think it was for her until she'd found out she was pregnant, but never for reasons so... shallow.
"I'm sorry," she says, unsure of what else to say to that.
"It's okay. As much as I'd love children, I'm glad it didn't happen with her." He pauses, then shakes his head. "Anyway, I was just about to get some coffee. I know you probably don't want to leave Annie, but could I get you some?"
The offer surprises her and her mouth opens, eyes widened.
"You don't have to do that," she says, tries to wave him off, but he's already shaking his head in response.
"I know, but I want to. I'm sure you haven't left this hospital since you brought her in, and I'm sure you could use it."
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back a smile. As much as she's thought about coffee since she's been in the hospital with Annie, she hasn't actually gotten any. Save for the quick trip to the gift shop downstairs to get the deck of cards she hasn't left her daughter, hasn't even stepped foot from the floor she's on. She really could go for coffee, even from the cafeteria.
"I—that would actually be really great," she agrees after a minute. "Thank you, really, and I'll pay you back."
"Nonsense. No payback necessary, Kate." Before she can protest further, he's already striding away, walking backwards away from her. "I'll be back in no time."
She relocates back into Annie's room a few minutes after he leaves, sits herself back into her chair. The girl's still asleep and Kate leans forward, caresses at Annie's forearm with her thumb. After a while, the touch seems to rouse her and her daughter's eyes begin to flutter until they're peeling back, focusing on her.
"Welcome back," she murmurs, rubbing her arm. "Feel better?"
Annie nods. "Mhm. Present now?"
Laughter slips from her mouth, genuine and unexpected. "Awake for 15 seconds and all you want is your present?"
"Pleeease, Mommy?" she adds, puppy dog eyes still filled with lingering sleep and a pout to accompany.
She can't say no to that face.
She bends down to pull her bag onto her lap, rummaging through it longer than necessary for dramatic effect. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Annie watching her, little body thrumming with so much anticipation and excitement that she can't leave her hanging for any longer. Grabbing the present from the bottom, she drops her bag back onto the floor next to the chair and passes over the wrapped object.
The light in her daughter's eyes brings a bright grin to her own face; this is always her favorite part, watching her unwrap her gifts. From small presents to large presents, Annie always takes her time despite her excitement level, always takes the extra few moments to really appreciate whatever it is.
The bow comes away first, followed by careful unraveling of the wrapping paper to reveal a tiny jewelry box. Little fingers wrap around the velvet, lift the top and Kate feels the love swell in her chest at the pure joy on Annie's face.
"Mommy, it's beautiful," she says, pulling the item from its box. It's a silver charm bracelet, two little heart charms attached, the smaller one with Annie's initials and the bigger one with hers. She has a matching one she'd bought for herself. "Can you put it on me?"
"Of course!" She loops it around the girl's wrist and closes the clasp. "It looks beautiful on you."
"Thank you, I love it!"
The sound of footsteps approach as Kate leans back into her chair.
"Sorry," she hears, turns to find the sheepish smile of Rick staring back at her, his balled fist poised at the door frame, the other arm balancing a brown bag and a carrier with three Starbucks drinks. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"No, that's okay. Come in."
She hadn't planned on introducing him to Annie but she doesn't want to be rude, especially when he's just bought her coffee. She's cautious when it comes to her daughter, doesn't introduce people to her so easily and that still stands, but she almost feels as though she knows him. Knows him through his books, through the words he's written, the very same words that helped her in the time she needed solace most.
Kate turns to the girl sitting in the bed, whose curious eyes are trained on the man moving slowly into the room.
"Ann, this is Rick. He's... a friend," she finishes, unsure of how else to explain it. A guy I met in the hallway yesterday morning while I was crying and who has now brought me coffee seems like a tad too long of a long title. "Rick, this is Annie."
"It's nice to meet you, Annie," he says, moving to Kate's side. "I hope you're feeling better."
Annie nods shyly. "Thank you."
He shoots her daughter a warm smile, then turns his attention to her. "And this is for you," he says, handing one of the coffees over to her. "I wasn't sure how you took it, so I took a guess and went with one of the holiday themed flavors."
"Thank you," she smiles, taking a sip, humming at the burst of flavor on her tongue. "Gingerbread?"
"Yeah. I was torn between gingerbread or peppermint, but I figured you can never really go wrong with a good gingerbread latte."
"Hm, you're right. You really can't."
He beams, his eyes impossibly blue right now. "Oh! And this is hot chocolate," he says, eyes darting from Annie to Kate. "I wasn't sure if there were any rules about what she can or can't have right now, but I just thought... all kids like hot chocolate right?"
Kate catches Annie's gaze, the surprise and joy swirling together in her bright eyes, and she smiles as she lifts her head once more. He bought hot chocolate for her kid. She saw the third cup and assumed it was for his mother. The thoughtfulness brings unwilling butterflies to her stomach.
"She was cleared earlier. That was really sweet of you, Rick, thank you." She turns to Annie just as he's handing over the hot beverage. "What do you say, baby?"
Annie grins, both hands wrapped around the colorful holiday cup. "Thank you, Rick!"
"You're very welcome," he replies, leaning down to her while her daughter's preoccupied by her drink, stuffing the brown bag into her lap. "There are a few cookies in here, too."
Her mouth drops open. "Rick, you really—"
"I know. Wanted to. It's Christmas Eve, you guys are stuck here, and it's the little things, right?"
"The little things," she agrees on a soft smile.
"Well, I'll let you to get back to what you were doing. I should go make sure my mother hasn't scared away another nurse."
She laughs along with him, shaking her head. "Probably a good idea. Thank you again, really."
"My pleasure. Merry Christmas Eve, Kate, Annie."
"Merry Christmas Eve!" her daughter tosses back happily, and she does the same.
He gives a little wave and makes his exit, her eyes following him until he's out of sight, and then she turns back to Annie. Despite the pain she's sure she's still feeling, she's smiling, enjoying her hot chocolate. She's not wincing or crying, and that's all she could really ask for.
She just hopes she can keep that smile on her face, make her feel the Christmas spirit tomorrow morning.
A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind words, they mean the world.
