Jane Doe

Castle can hear his son's pitiful cries the moment he steps off of the elevator; not for the first time, he's grateful that the couple who share this floor with them are so very tolerant. At the door, he takes a moment to steel himself and then he unlocks it, steps inside to find his daughter rocking his son over by the window.

The boy's face is red and blotchy, his mouth open as he sobs and even from the other side of the room Rick can tell that these are real tears, the anguished kind and not to the ones he offers once or twice a day when things aren't going his own way.

"Look, here's Daddy now! Hey, Mal. Daddy's home." Alexis says against the shell of her brother's ear, bouncing the boy in her arms and striding across the room to meet her father.

She gives Marlow up with no trouble at all, shifting him right in to Rick's arms and he bands them tight around his son, pressing a kiss to his cheek and palming the back of his head to keep Mal from thrashing right out of his grip in distress. "Hey there, my man. Have you been good for your big sister?"

Alexis runs a hand through her hair – she cut it recently and it only just sweeps her shoulders, takes him by surprise every time. "He's not happy, Dad. He keeps crying for Kate. I didn't know what to tell him. I'm sorry."

"Hey, pumpkin, shh." Rick says, untangling an arm from around his son and banding it around his daughter's shoulders to draw her in against his side. She'll be twenty five next month, his baby girl, and even though she's making her way in her career, has a serious boyfriend who Rick actually approves of, sometimes she still reminds him of that quiet, solemn ten year old. "You did great. He's okay, right buddy?"

"Mama." Marlow wails, his head rolling on his neck as his eyes scan the room. He fixes on the door and flops forward, almost toppling out of Castle's hold as if he's trying to get to the entryway. As if he expects her to come walking through any minute. "Where Mama?"

"You can see Mommy soon, okay?" Rick does his best to appease his son, heading for the couch and settling down onto the cushion, cradling Mal against his chest. "She has an ouch, but she's at the hospital and the doctors are going to make her all better so she can come home and play with you."

It's not too much of a lie, he hopes. With a little luck, he'll be able to convince her to come home with him, to their home together. Alexis settles down at his side and cards a hand through her brother's hair, leaning in to kiss his forehead. The warmth and the familiarity of Rick's embrace seem to have soothed him a little; he keeps releasing these great sighing breaths as he comes down from his crying jag.

"Hey Mal, you wanna curl up on the couch? I'll grab your blanket." Castle's daughter murmurs, her palm smoothing up and down Marlow's spine now. He's still in his pajamas, but it doesn't seem to matter so much right now. And Rick knows what a battle it can be to get his son dressed.

"That sounds good, buddy. You nap, and when you wake up-" He cuts himself off before he can say something stupid, something that might not even be true. He can't promise Marlowe that the boy's mother will come home to him. Kate is undoubtedly going to hate him for keeping something so huge from her for even this long; there's no guarantee she'll manage to forgive him enough to even consider meeting their son.

Alexis frowns at him as she stands up from the couch and snags the fleece blanket folded over the armchair. "Dad?"

"Let's get him settled, first." Rick says, taking the blanket from his daughter and snapping his wrists to open it out. He wraps it around Marlow's little body and transfers his son as gently as possible to the couch cushion. Leaning in, he kisses his son's cheek and whispers against the shell of his tiny ear as he slowly untangles Mal's hand from where it's fisted in Castle's shirt. "Sleep well, my man. I love you."

Alexis opens her mouth and he shakes his head sharply at her, gestures towards the kitchen. He heads for the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of water, drinks half of it down with his daughter hovering at his side like a shadow capped with flame.

On the phone, he gave his daughter only the bare bones of an explanation. He didn't want to worry her, didn't want to have to explain over the phone that Kate has woken up with ten years of her life missing. Especially not when Alexis has been dealing with a very cranky two year old all night and this morning.

"Dad. . .what's wrong? Is she really hurt? You said she was okay." His daughter says, her voice steadily rising towards the end of her sentence.

Drawing her in for a hug, Castle's ruffles her hair like he did when she was five and gets a huff of annoyance from her that blooms into a tremulous smile. Leading her over to the island, he nudges her to sit and slides into the bar stool next to hers, his hand settling at her wrist. "Physically, Kate is just a little banged up. Nothing too serious. But mentally. . .she thinks it's 2008."

"Oh my god, Dad." Alexis chokes out, her face blanching and her mouth dropping open. He waits, half hoping his baby girl will have something reassuring to say, but it's not fair of him to expect that from her.

"She doesn't remember me. Or you, or Gram or Marlow."

"Dad. . ." She whispers, her eyes filling with tears that she hastens to sweep away, collecting them at her fingertips. Alexis shakes her head, a hand pressed to her mouth and the portion of her face that he can see alive with disbelief.

He gets it all too well, how it feels when the shock smacks into you and knocks all of the breath from your chest. "I know, Alexis. I just have to believe that somewhere in there, she's still my wife. She'll come back to me."

"Does she know about Mal?" His daughter murmurs, shooting a glance over to the couch to check on her baby brother. Castle looks over at his son too and the two of them watch him for a moment, his chest rising and collapsing back down as he sleeps. Completely oblivious to the fact that his mother has no idea he even exists, and Rick only hopes that they can keep it that way.

He manages a shrug, his fingers twitching. He wants to fiddle with something, give his anxiety a physical outlet, but he can't right now. He won't make Alexis watch him lose it. "Not yet. She was overwhelmed enough; I didn't think it wise to throw that into the mix."

"You have to tell her. She needs to know that she's got a child, Dad." His daughter says sharply, almost glaring at him. And yes, thank you, he knows that he has to tell his wife about their son. But he's so terrified of how she'll react, how much it's going to hurt her to realise that she doesn't remember a single moment of Marlow's life.

Gritting out a sigh, he stands up from the barstool and drops a kiss to the top of his daughter's head. "I know. I will. I just came home to freshen up and check on you and Marlow, and when I get back to the hospital I'll tell her."

"Okay. How do you think she'll take it?" Alexis worries at her bottom lip with her teeth, tucking her hair back behind her ears in a move that's so reminiscent of Kate that he startles, takes a step backward.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. He needs his mom, but she doesn't even know him." He's floundering suddenly, his careful control slipping away faster than he can handle, and his daughter slides off of the stool and comes to wrap him in her embrace, her arms tight around his neck.

"It'll be okay, Dad. It's impossible not to fall in love with Mal the moment you meet him." She soothes and remarkably, it does help.

Sucking in a deep breath, he gives her a last squeeze and extracts himself from their hug. "Right. I hope-" He cuts himself off, doesn't want to burden his daughter with his own desperation. "Are you okay to take care of Mal until we get home? I can call Gram to come back if you need to go."

"No, Dad." Alexis frowns at him, her arms folded across her chest. "He's my baby brother. I'll take care of him for as long as you need."

"Thank you, sweetheart." He murmurs, a little embarrassed by the thickness of emotion in his throat. He just doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to do the right thing by his wife. But at least he has his daughter and his son, at least the two of them are okay.

"Will you. . .give Kate my love? I know she doesn't know who I am, but maybe it'll help to know there are people who care about her." Alexis says quickly, a flush rising in her cheeks, and her eyes firmly fixed on her own feet.

Rick touches her arm and when she looks at him he manages a smile, tries to let his face flood with gratitude. "Of course I will. If you or Mal need anything just call me, okay?"

"We'll be fine. You just concentrate on being there for Beckett." His daughter insists, turning him around and nudging him towards the door.

Glancing back over his shoulder at her, he nods solemnly and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Right. I'll try and keep you updated.

"Dad, stop stalling. Go."

Right. Yes. He's going.

Kate is up and dressed in the clothes her father brought her by the time Richard Castle comes back to the hospital. Skinny jeans and a top that's floaty and girly but, strangely enough, something she really likes. At least it doesn't seem like her tastes have changed too dramatically over the missing ten years.

When he pokes his head around the door she's standing up, for no other reason than she's tired of laying down after so many hours. And so very ready to get out of here. Earlier, she asked her father what she refers to her husband as. If it was Rick, like her father does, or Castle. The latter came to her purely because of her cop instincts, but her father had chuckled and affirmed it, said she only calls him Rick when he's in trouble.

"Castle. Hi." She says, managing a smile for him. It's not altogether genuine, and he obviously knows her well enough to see that because he winces as he comes inside the room, the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement.

For a moment she thinks he's going to hug her, or maybe kiss her cheek again like he did last night. Yeah. . .that really didn't help with the whole lowering her heart rate thing. He doesn't though, opting instead to gently squeeze her bicep in greeting.

"Hey, Kate. How are you feeling?"

Shrugging, Kate takes a hesitant step away from the crowd of his body next to hers. He's a broad man, tall, and in the flat shoes her father brought for her she feels too vulnerable to even consider taking shelter against his chest. "Better. My vital signs are all good, now. I have to make an appointment with the therapist, but I can go home. Just waiting for Dad to come back from the bathroom."

"Listen, Kate." He starts, so hesitant with his hands pushed into the pockets of his slacks. He looks so innocent, like a little boy, and she's filled with the strange urge to coddle him, this man she barely knows. There's something about him that endears him to her; she doesn't know if it's the knowledge that they're married or just something in who he is, but she wants to protect him from any more hurt.

At the very least, she can hear him out. "I know that this is hard for you, and I would understand if you wanted to stay with your dad for a while. But all of your things are at our place, and the doctors think if you surround yourself with familiarity it might help."

Oh god. He looks so desolate as he watches her, so without hope, and she really does hate that she's doing this to him. It's clear for everyone to see how much he cares for her; one of the nurses this morning told her after Castle had left that she's never seen such a devoted husband. But even so. "Castle, I'm not- I only just met you last night. I can't just fall right in to being your wife."

"No, of course not. I'm not expecting that." He hastens to explain, shifting from foot to foot. Looking away from her, he watches the bustle of the nurses at the station and it gives her the opportunity to watch him, the hard edge of his jaw and the rough-cut slope of his nose. "I'll take the guest room, of course."

"I can't ask you to stay in the guest room of your own house." She says indignantly, hearing it in her own voice. And the shame, too. Here he is, bending over backwards to try and accommodate her, and she has nothing to offer him in return."

One of the nurses walking past does a double take, glances again at Castle's face and when he smiles at her, the young woman flushes bright pink and hurries away to carry out her duties. It makes Kate grin to see it, the effect he has on those around him. He's an attractive man, she won't deny that.

And the way he looks at her. . .it does send a shiver of delight coursing through her. It's just that she doesn't know anything about the history of those looks, where the love in his eyes came from, and she can't even begin to return it.

Castle turns back slowly to look at her, and something in his face makes the decision for her, before he even speaks. "It's our home, together. You should be in your own bed."

"Okay, I'll try. But if it gets too much. . ."

The smile he gives her splits his whole face in two and it's infectious, planting a seed of mirth at the corner of her own mouth that has her echoing his grin. He's nodding at her, still beaming, and looking as if he would lay down at her feet if that's what she wanted. "You'll go stay with your dad. Of course."

She nods back at him, for a silly moment almost holds out her hand so they can shake on it. Instead, she pushes it down into the depths of her pocket and dips her chin, feels ridiculous to be standing here sharing a smile with her husband, the stranger.

And then his face falls and he touches her arm, guides her over to sit sideways on the hospital bed next to him. Her heart sinks and she folds her arms over her chest as if in protection, tilts her body a little way away from his.

"Before you come home, there's something else you need to know." He starts, and the sheer terror in his voice makes her heart kick hard in her chest, her hands shake. Whatever this is, the secret he's clearly been keeping, it's not good.

"Okay."

"I uh. . .probably should have told you sooner. I just didn't want to overwhelm you." He's fiddling with his wedding ring again, twisting it around and around his finger and it's really starting to make her nervous.

"What is it, Castle?" She bites out, more acerbic than she really meant to. It's just so frustrating, to be moving through her life almost blind. No idea what could be around the corner, what horrific thing she's going to have to relive.

Castle sucks in a deep breath at her side and twists around so their knees bump, his eyes holding hers. "You and I have a son together, Kate. We have a little boy."

It feels like a punch to the gut, her organs writhing in protest of the words and she presses a hand to her mouth, for a moment thinks she might actually throw up. Slamming her eyes closed, she focuses only on breathing. A couple of tears spill free from behind the barrier of her lids and splash onto the tile, her head bowed. She doesn't even care, can't muster up a shred of dignity to be ashamed that he's watching her cry when her whole body is consumed with self-loathing.

And yes, anger at him, too. "We have a child, and you're only just telling me?"

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, and she notices with a strange sense of detachment that he's crying too, not even trying to hide it from her. "I just didn't want to bombard you with information."

"I have a baby and I don't remember him." She chokes on a sob, not even sure why she's saying this out loud except that if she doesn't it'll stay inside and fester and rot and she will topple right in to that hole of grief.

Castle wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her in against his chest and she goes, no energy left to even fight him on this one. And clearly he needs the comfort of her body in his arms, too. She's denying him their whole life together; she won't deny him this.

"Oh god, sweetheart, don't cry." He breathes against her hair and she stifles another sob, her palm still pressed over her mouth.

Grief chews at her, a hungry mouth opening wide and she doesn't know what to do, can only clutch at his shirt in her free hand and ride out the wave of devastation. "What kind of mother am I that I can't even remember my own child?"

"Oh, Kate." He breathes, easing her to sit up straight and swiping at her tears with his thumb, tucking her hair back out of her face. "The best kind. Marlow adores you, and you adore him right back. You're wonderful with him."

"His name is Marlow?"

Oh god. Her son. She has a little boy, a tiny person that she and this man made together, that grew inside of her for nine months and she doesn't know him. Can't picture his face, doesn't know how he smells or what his laugh sounds like when she tickles him to make it come spilling out.

She doesn't know what it was like to be pregnant, to feel the pulse and kick of life inside her belly. Can't even imagine the astonishment, the adoration she must have felt when they placed the squirmy, red little body on her chest in the hospital.

All of it is missing. Her little boy.

"Yes. Marlow Alexander. We call him Mal."

"How old is he?" She manages to ask. There are so many things she needs to know about her baby, so many questions crowding her tongue, but this seems most important.

Castle grins, tugging his phone free from his pocket and scrolling through his camera roll. "He's two."

He holds up his phone for her to see and she turns her head away, refuses to look. "I don't want the first time I see my son to be in a photograph." She grits out and Castle makes an anguished noise at her side, shoves his phone away again.

"We were about to start trying for another baby before-" She snaps around to look at him, sees that he's just as startled as she is by that declaration. Holy crap. Apparently the 2018 version of herself is really taking the whole marriage and babies thing seriously.

"Shit, Castle. What am I going to do?" She moans, pressing her palms into her eyes again. It blinds her momentarily so when she looks at him he's just a blurred outline.

A blurred outline that's reaching for her again, tangling their fingers and setting the clasp of their hands at his knee. The physical contact is rankling her already; she can accept it now since she's pretty much falling apart here, but if he keeps touching her when they get home she doesn't know what she's going to do. She really doesn't want to have to ask him to keep his hands to himself.

"It's okay, Kate. Shh, come on. It'll be alright." He soothes, and it makes her straighten her spine.

She's going to be horrible at this, she knows already. Growing up, she was never really a baby person. Certainly not one to fawn over them and want to kiss their chubby little toes. So how, exactly, is she supposed to step into the shoes of the mother that Marlow has had for the past two years?

God, she doesn't even know how to change a diaper. "What if I can't love him? What if-"

"No, no. Don't think that way. You'll love him, I promise you. It's impossible not to." Castle chuckles at the end, shaking his head, and she wishes so badly she knew what memory he was seeing now. Wishes she knew more about her son than only what she could have just as easily gleaned from a basic fact sheet.

Chewing on her lip, she looks at her husband and feels the crease between her eyebrows deepening, carving into a trench as he watches. "I want to meet him. I want to go home."

"We'll go as soon as your dad gets back, okay?" He offers and she musters a nod.

When her father comes back into the room a couple minutes later, he doesn't seem at all surprised to see the two of them still holding hands. But then, she supposes she's the only one for whom the contact between them is anything out of the ordinary.

"Jim, Kate's going to come home with me, so we can go our separate ways." Castle is saying to her father, standing up from the bed and drawing her up with him. It's just too weird to still be holding hands with him and so she untangles herself, trying not to be too brutal as she does.

"Okay." Her father says amiably, drawing her in for a hug. "Katie, if it gets too much, if you need anything, call me and I'll be right there sweetheart."

She frowns at her father for that, for insinuating in front of Castle that he's not good enough. As true as it might turn out to be, she doesn't want him to get his feelings hurt. He doesn't seem too concerned though, shrugging off the hurt and following her father to the door.

Kate hesitates a moment in the middle of the room, and then she draws a deep breath and steels herself to face a world that has met with ten years of change since she saw it last.