Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.

A/N This chapter is the first of a two-part arc.

Today was a big, gigantic day, but I didn't know that it was going to be. It really started a couple of days ago, so I'll tell you about that one first.

The morning after our doubles brunch, Mom, Dad and I were eating breakfast.

"Today's it, Castle. Definitely can't wait any longer. I can't believe that no one has even hinted at it, though, especially Lanie."

"Really? Not a single pointed remark? A small, scalpel-in-hand query?"

"Nope. Not one."

"Maybe everyone's just being respectful, now that you're the Captain."

Mom looked at Dad like she thought he was crazy. "You're kidding, right?"

"I see your point. Well, you went through this a year and a half ago, so you don't need me to wish you luck, but I can't wait to hear the reaction."

I wasn't sure what they were talking about until after she left and Dad said, "Mom's going to tell everyone at work today that she's having a baby, two babies. You know what that means?"

"No?"

"It means that it's not a secret anymore, so you're off the hook."

"What hook? I was on a hook? You mean like the ones for our jackets? You never put me up there, Dad!"

The rest of the day with Dad and Scrapple was normal, until Mom got home. Dad was cooking and she came in to the kitchen and gave us both a kiss.

"How did it go, Beckett?"

Mom put her eyebrow up. She's almost as good as Gram at that. "You don't know?"

"How would I know? I've been here all day, except for an excursion to the playground where there was no police presence."

"Not one of your buddies from the Twelfth has called, texted, emailed or communicated in any way?"

"What, like sent a message by carrier pigeon? No. Though that would have been cool. Best use of a pigeon outside of pigeon en croute."

Mom plunked down on a stool and sighed. "Okay. Well, I decided to deliver the news to everyone at the same time and save myself having to tell it over and over. So I called a little gathering in the bullpen and said I was pregnant with twins and that my due date is in the middle of April."

"And?"

"And then Ryan put out his hand and said, 'Pay up, suckers!' And at least fifteen people came over and slapped bills—twenties, fifties, even a couple of hundreds—into his palm."

"Why did they do that?"

The water that Dad was drinking came out of his nose. Mom looked mad. "Really?"

He was coughing and laughing at the same time. "I'm sorry. I am, I mean it. Sorry. It's just, you know."

"Are you finished?"

"Almost."

"This had better be one of the best dinners you've ever made, Castle. I'm going to go take a shower and change into something comfier, which is anything with a waist that doesn't button."

Mom left the room and I looked at Dad. "Mama?"

"Mom's a little bit cranky."

"Oo?"

"Um, she told everyone at the precinct about the babies, but they had already guessed."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh is right. I shouldn't have laughed and now I need to think of a really, really great dessert. We have about ten minutes. Tops. Okay, you and I are going to go down the block to Caffe Roma for some of their chocolate canoli. Mom would kill for those. We'll be so quick she won't even know we've gone."

"Mom wouldn't kill anybody!"

Dad was right about one thing, but not the other. We did get back before she finished changing but she didn't kill for the canoli. I just learned about opposites and she almost did the opposite from kill. When she took her first bite of dessert she said, "Oh, this is to die for." See what I mean? The opposite of kill! But she didn't die. I think that might be an expression. Docky taught me about expressions the other day. Anyway, Mom said she felt much better after dinner and that we had cheered her up so that was good.

Before I went to bed I asked the twins how it had been at work when Mom told everyone about them, and you know what they said?

"Dunno, Eliot. We were playing together."

"Yeah, we weren't really paying attention."

Good grief. I know they are just babies, but I'm going to have to explain some things to them. I'm their big brother.

That was a couple of days ago, but it partly had to do with what happened today that was so enormous. It was about Docky, EB, Obi and me.

Yesterday Docky called Dad and invited him, Scrapple and me to lunch today because it's his day off. Dad thought that was nice, even though he was a little bit surprised, but I wasn't I because I asked Docky about it the last time I saw him.

As soon as we got to Docky's apartment Dad sniffed his nose and said, "Perlmutter? Do I smell mac and cheese?"

"You do. I understand that it's a favorite of yours, not just of Eliot's, and it's one of my guilty pleasures. I make it with three kinds of cheese."

"Mmmmm!"

"You're not kidding, kiddo. Mmmmm."

"Thank you. I hope you'll both feel that way once you've actually tried it."

We did! It was yummy. Don't tell Dad, but it was even better than what he makes.

"I think you've achieved mac-and-cheese Nirvana, Perlmutter. Is there anything I can do to persuade you to share the recipe?"

Docky laughed and bowed and said, "I will give it to you with great pleasure." And then he looked very serious and cleared his throat. "Shall we go make ourselves comfortable on the sofa? Uh, Castle. Rick. There's something I'd like to talk to you about, feel I should talk to you about, but I have to double check with your son."

Dad looked a little bit nervous and a lot curious. "Okay."

Docky said, "Eliot, are you sure?"

"Yah."

"You really want me to tell your father?"

"YAH!"

"Okay. Why don't you sit up here in between us."

Then Dad was looking a lot nervous.

"Several months ago, as you know, I told Kate about my wife and our daughter. I also told her I thought that in some ways she and I were alike. Her mother's death shattered her as Judith and Abby's did me. Kate and I were both consumed with grief and rage, and cast into darkness. It was a terrible thing to see in a woman so young. I hated to see it. And then, over the last few years, I watched her find her way back, in no small way because of you, and that has given me enormous joy. But I also think, though this will come as a shock, that you and I may be more alike than you could ever have imagined. I know that you believe in fate and magic and fairy tales. I am a man of science, but that does not rule out my belief in things that cannot be explained. In fact, I became a doctor in part because I wanted at least some things in the universe to have concrete explanations.

"When I was a medical student I decided to specialize in pediatrics. I had always had an affinity for children and once I opened a practice, I discovered that I could speak to my patients."

Docky looked at Dad. "Actually speak to my patients."

"Right, of course. You, um, had an easy time relating to children so it was easy to speak with their parents? You certainly have an amazing bond with Eliot."

"No, I meant speak to the children. The babies. I could speak to the babies and they, to me. Not to all of them, but to quite a few. We understood each other. It's part of the reason why I was such a good diagnostician, because a baby could tell me what he or she was feeling."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. You talked to them? You talked, uh—

"I talked baby talk, yes. Not out loud, of course. Some of the time, yes, but not most of the time. It was wordless communication, if you will. And then I closed my practice, and I couldn't do it anymore, or didn't want to. Until that day you and Kate brought Eliot to the precinct so we could all meet him. The instant I saw him I could speak with him, isn't that right, Eliot?"

I said yes and patted him on the face.

"I felt right there as if that were Kate's gift to me, a fellow wounded soul. Other than with my own daughter, I've never had such fluency, for lack of a better word, with a little one as I have with Eliot. He's quite the conversationalist, too. You probably think this is my imagination, or fancifulness, but it's true. You must have your doubts? I certainly would in your position. And there is a reason why I'm telling you all this."

"Bhaaah la tii la."

"Excuse me a moment, Castle. Eliot has a request." Docky looked down at me. "You'd like me to tell him about that?"

"Yah. Shh babab mo."

"So he'll believe me?"

"Yah."

"Um. Eliot has asked me to tell you about Peter Rabbit."

"Peter Rabbit?" Dad's voice was so squeaky again.

"Yes. He loves his Peter Rabbit stuffed animal, has told me all about it, how you gave it to him the day he was born, and of course he often has it with him. But when he found out that Kate was going to have a baby right around Easter, he wanted to give the baby Peter Rabbit because it's like the Easter Bunny. So he has put it on her stomach in hopes that the baby could feel how soft the rabbit was, and he often drops it in her bag when she's going to work or to an appointment so that it will be near the baby."

Dad was making this funny gurgling noise like the water fountain by the playground. He looked kind of sick, too.

"I know this must be difficult to take in, even for someone who has great stock in magic, or whatever you want to call it. Would you like some water? Or, something stronger? You look like a single malt man to me."

Dad laughed a weird laugh. "Ah, you can read my mind, too, apparently. I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound rude. Yes, please. Scotch. I could definitely do with a Scotch. Definitely."

So Docky got up and made a drink for Dad and got some apple juice for me.

"This is not the end of the story, as you might have guessed, since I mentioned that there is a reason for me telling you all this."

Dad took a sip. "I have a feeling I might need another one of these."

"All right, well, then brace yourself. It's nothing bad, so please don't worry. It's just unusual."

"Oh, this is already a lot more than unusual."

"Right, okay. Well, just as Eliot talks to me, he talks to his soon-to-be sibling."

"That's not uncommon, right? You see expectant parents all the time talking to a belly, and the brother or sister, too?"

"That's true. But the babies, talk to Eliot, too."

"He does have a great imagination already. But, oh, babies? I didn't realize that you were at the meeting at the precinct yesterday? When Kate told everyone she's expecting twins."

"I wasn't. Eliot told me."

"Yah, Dada."

"He told me a few weeks ago. Before, um, before her sonogram. Do you remember the day he was so anxious to see me and you brought him round? And left him with me while you got me a bagel? That's when he told me there were twins. He wanted me to tell you, but I explained that it would be better for Kate's doctor to do that."

Dad's eyes were so wide open they took up almost his whole face. "Eliot?"

"Thh towo amuh bah."

"He says he wants you to know that the twins have names. He gave them names."

"Names?" Dad was even squeakier than before.

"Yes. EB, which is short for Easter Bunny—Eliot said that you have a friend known by his initials, MJ, so he asked me for the Easter Bunny's initials. He had been speaking with EB for quite some time before discovering, not long ago, the twin. He says that that one is smaller than EB and had apparently been hiding behind him or her until then. Eliot calls the smaller one Obi, short for Other Baby."

"Yah, Dada. B. B."

"Perlmutter? You wouldn't happen to have an oxygen tank on hand, would you? I think that's what I need now."

TBC

A/N Thank you again to everyone who's along for this ride, with special thanks to guest reviewers: CatellumKeep, hawkie and many others who have left no names. I can't reply to you, so here's a public acknowledgement of my enormous gratitude.