Jane Doe
When Castle unlocks the door to the loft and swings it wide open, Mal and Alexis are sitting on the floor of the living room with the coffee table pushed over to one side and a tarp sheet spread out underneath them. Mal has his little plastic easel set up and an apron that reaches all the way down to his ankles, paint all over his hands and on his cheeks too.
Castle's daughter has her hair caught up in a knot with wisps falling out around her face and she grins when she sees her father, and Kate behind him hovering in the threshold. Marlow has his back to the door and he doesn't notice his parents' arrival, protesting loudly when his big sister takes away the paintbrush and peels his apron up over his head.
And then Alexis plants her hands at his shoulders and spins him around, points him in the right direction. He sees Kate and his whole face lights up, a grin splitting wide as he charges towards her on chubby little legs. "Mommy!"
"Hi Mal." Castle grins, reaching down to ruffle his son's hair when their boy makes it over to them.
Marlow winds himself around Kate's legs and looks up at her, his chin pillowed against her thigh. He reaches an arm up, still grinning, and Rick's wife shoots him a hesitant look. "Should I. . .pick him up?"
"If you want to." Castle says, drawing her further inside the loft with a hand cupped at her elbow so he can close the door behind them. She's stiff and awkward and their little boy is still clinging to her legs, his little face creased up in confusion because Mommy hasn't picked him up yet.
Usually Kate swings him up into her arms the moment she walks through the door and plasters his face with kisses, nuzzling into him and whispering words of love against his ear. Not this time. There's a moment of hesitation, a horrible sinking in Castle's guts as he considers the possibility that Kate is going to peel their child away from her and run right back out of the loft again.
It feels monumental that she be receptive to their little boy now. Because there is no possible way to explain to Marlow what's wrong with Mommy. Rick is just about to say something, maybe pick Mal up himself, and then Kate hooks her hands underneath Marlow's arms and lifts him up, cradling him close as if by instinct.
"Hey there, Marlow." She murmurs to their son, and her whole face breaks open in delight when Mal nuzzles in close at her neck. She looks much the same as she did in the hospital when they first placed him on her chest and she smoothed her palm over his little skull, laughing in absolute euphoria even as she cried. Kate has just fallen in love with their son again, he can see it all over her.
It takes her a moment, but then she manages to look away and shift him to her hip so she can get a hand free to offer to Castle's daughter. "You're Alexis, right?"
On the way home he debriefed Kate a little, explained about his daughter. That she lives across town but she'd be at the loft taking care of Mal. She'd surprised him, actually, because she'd already known that he has a daughter. It's interesting to see how much more of what she knows about him Beckett is willing to divulge this time around.
"Yes. How are you feeling?" His daughter says, unwinding the ponytail holder from her hair and raking her hands through it. She's wearing an old button down of his she must have found with the craft things; it's already paint splattered from when Kate has worn it to get creative with their little boy.
Alexis seems more self-conscious around Kate than she has done in years but then, he supposes, this woman isn't really Kate. She's mostly Beckett, and she doesn't remember any of the shared history she's created with Castle's daughter.
Not the respect that a fifteen year old Alexis had for the graceful, enigmatic detective when the two first met. Not the tentative friendship that blossomed into a mutual admiration, or the innumerable little ways Kate has been there for Alexis whenever Castle's daughter has needed it.
"Tired." Kate huffs a laugh, but even the fact that she's willing to admit that much is pretty astonishing. The woman he first met, nine years ago now, would never have admitted to being anything less than fine.
Maybe it's the fact that she's holding their son, right now, Marlow's face buried into the crease of Kate's neck and his hand fisted in the collar of her shirt. Kate glances down at the boy in her arms and then back up at Rick, her eyebrows furrowed. "Can I sit with him?"
"Kate." He says gently, trying desperately not to seem as if he's treating her with kid gloves. "You can do whatever you want. He's your son, this is your home."
She flushes at that, nodding once before she heads for the couch and sinks down into it gratefully. The exhaustion is hitting her hard, he knows, but Marlow wriggles around until he's sitting on her thighs, facing her with his hands pressed against her cheeks as he squirms with delight. "Mommy. Hi. I missed you."
Her breath catches when their son calls her Mommy and from across the room Rick can see her eyes flood with tears, the desperate way she tries to blink them back. Mal presses a smacking kiss to her nose, totally oblivious, and chatters away to his mother, telling her all about the adventures he's had with his sister while his parents have been gone.
Castle watches for a moment and then, satisfied that Kate can handle their son for the time being, he turns back to his daughter. "Pumpkin, thank you so much for everything."
"No problem, Dad." Alexis shrugs, tugging open the closet and reaching inside for her coat. She slips it on and flips her hair out from underneath the collar, stoops to grab her shoes and tug them on as well. "I have to head out now, I said I'd try and make it to work this afternoon. But if you guys need anything, if you need me to take Mal for a few hours and give you some space, just let me know."
"I will do sweetheart, thank you." Rick says, pressing a kiss to the top of his daughter's head and opening the front door of the loft for her. He watches her move all the way down the corridor and turn the corner and then he closes the door and heads back to join the rest of his family on the couch.
"Daddy." Marlow beams at his father, curling up against Kate's chest again. Her arms slide around him and he plays with the wedding ring she still, miraculously, hasn't taken off. Her engagement ring is inside of the jewellery box in their bedroom, too obtrusive to wear every day at the precinct, but the wedding band is simple and smooth and the only time she's taken it off since he slipped it on in front of everyone they love was during the last few weeks of her pregnancy, when her fingers were too swollen for her to be able to wear it any longer. "Mommy is home."
Rick grins, smoothing his thumb over some of the vivid orange paint streaked across their son's cheek. It's dried now, crusted onto his skin, and it's going to take some serious scrubbing in the bath tonight to get him clean. "She is. Did you and Alexis have lunch?"
"My sister not make lunch. We waited for Mommy." Marlow grins up at his mother, looking so proud of himself that it makes Kate smile back, apparently unable to help it. She's so beautiful like this, uninhibited and totally taken in by their son, and he wants so badly to just lean in and kiss her.
Very bad idea, Rick. Instead, he stands up from the couch and gathers his son into his arms, pressing a smacking kiss to the boy's cheek. "Come on then, my man. Let's make something delicious to welcome Mommy home."
"I'll help." Kate says, rising from the couch and following him towards the kitchen. "I guess I'd better start learning where everything is."
Castle deposits their son in the high chair and he immediately starts up playing with his action figures, Spiderman and Batman going head to head in a violent clash of wills. The two of them watch their son for a moment and Rick feels his face going soft with tender amusement, his eyes getting a little misty. "I was thinking grilled cheese and tomato soup. That work for you?"
"Sounds great. But I guess you already knew I like that, huh?" She lifts an eyebrow at him, hovering awkwardly just on the outside of the tile. It's too hard to watch her like this, so uncertain in their kitchen when just yesterday morning he found her dancing around as she cooked breakfast, she and Marlow singing along to the radio together.
"Yeah. I knew. You good to make the sandwiches and I'll heat the soup?" He asks and she nods, finally steps around the counter and inside of the kitchen with him. Rick busies himself with finding a can of soup in the pantry and opening it, starting to heat it on the stove. He's careful not to watch her as she gathers things for their sandwiches, opens a couple of wrong drawers in her quest to find a knife. Unless she asks him explicitly where something is, he won't tell her. Last time she learned her way around his kitchen he didn't hold her hand and guide her through, and he won't do it now either.
When she finishes up with the sandwiches Castle takes the plate from her so he can grill them, watches from the corner of his eye as she hovers a moment before rounding the counter to slip onto a stool next to their son. "Hey buddy. You having fun?"
"Spiderman did a web and Batman falled down and it got all sticky on him and them are fighting." Mal explains the game to his mother, handing one of the dolls over to her so she can hold it steady for him to smack the other figurine against it. "But it's okay, Mommy. Them are still friends."
Kate smiles at that, leaning in to kiss Marlow's cheek like it's the most natural thing in the world, like it doesn't have Rick's heart pounding so hard in his chest he's pretty sure he's about to choke on it. Somehow he manages to finish up grilling the sandwiches and warming the soup without collapsing, the soft sounds of his wife and son playing together making him want to wriggle with delight.
Instead, he plates up their lunch and comes around the counter to sit at Kate's other side, sandwiching her between himself and their son, and the three of them eat lunch as though it's just a normal day.
After they were finished eating she tried to help clear up and Castle swatted her away, but it didn't feel like he was doing it because she's suddenly a guest in their own home. It felt like it's something he does every time they eat together. And maybe normally she muscles her way in and helps him out anyway, distracts him with a kiss or the press of her body, but today she slinks away and curls up on the couch instead.
Marlow is playing on the floor at her feet, building a tower with his blocks and then ramming his toy truck into it over and over, and Kate pillows her cheek against the couch cushion and watches her son. Castle is right. She's completely in love with him already. Having him in her arms, warm and snuggly and calling her Mommy. . .nothing has ever felt so perfect.
He's a gorgeous kid, a happy kid, and she's so grateful to see that at least this she's managing not to screw up. Marlow seems oblivious to the fact that she barely knows him and it's one less disappointment, one less way she's letting Castle down. And she's made the decision, already. She won't walk away from her son, wants to do the very best by him that she possibly can. So if that means she has to let Castle in, parent their son together. . .that's what she'll do.
As if just thinking his name has made him materialise, Castle appears at her side and joins her on the couch, squeezing her knee a moment before he drops his hands to rest against his thighs and watches their son. Kate pulls her cell phone free – someone rescued it from the battered shell of her car and gave it to one of the nurses to give back to her – and holds it up. "Do you know how I can unlock this? And. . .how to work it?"
"Oh, right." Castle laughs, taking the phone from her. "I forgot. Did they even have iPhones where you're from?"
"Where I'm from?" She says sharply, raising both eyebrows at him and stitching her mouth into a seam. Mostly in annoyance, yes, but also. . .that's sort of funny. Only a little bit. But funny.
Castle falls all over himself to explain, his cheeks stained a vivid pink and his eyes wide. "I didn't- you're not- not an alien, Kate- I'm. You know what I mean."
"I do." She murmurs, helping him out of the hole he's digging for himself. "Do you know my password?"
He nods, swiping his finger across the screen of her phone to bring up all of the numbers. He taps them out for her, slowly enough that she can see, and then the home page of her cell phone flares to life. "One nine zero eight. Mal's birthday and our wedding anniversary."
"Mal's birthday is. . ."
"June, 2016. And we got married in July of 2014." He smiles at her, handing her cell phone back and tugging his own phone out of his pocket. "Mine's two four six two, for the letters of the kids' initials. Alexis Harper and Marlow Alexander. But actually babe, they both have fingerprint recognition. Just hold your finger down on that little circle."
Babe? She wrinkles her nose but doesn't comment, letting it slide for now. There are more pressing concerns. "Right. Okay. And is Captain Montgomery's number still the same? I need to call and tell him what's going on."
Just like that, all the colour drains away from Castle's face and he turns his head away from her, his eyes slamming closed. His hands are in fists against his knees and he looks so completely wrecked by whatever it is that she's oblivious to that her heart lurches in sympathy and panic both. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, you didn't. It's me. I'm the one in the wrong." He grunts, and then he straightens up and reaches for her hand. "We should talk in the office. I don't want to do this in front of him."
Their son glances up at them when they stand up from the couch but he doesn't seem too concerned that they're going someplace else. Apparently his game is too exciting to warrant leaving. Kate lets Castle keep a hold of her hand as they walk through the living room, mostly because he looks as if he's teetering on the very edge of collapse.
In the office, he brings her with him over to the window seat and they settle down together, their knees not quite touching. "Kate, I'm so sorry. I should have told you this as soon as you woke up. There are just. . .so many things. I don't know which are most important to you."
"Castle." She interrupts him, her voice tentative but unashamed. "I don't know much about the person I am now. But from what I've seen, from what my dad has told me, you and our son are the most important thing to me."
He sucks in a sharp breath and clutches at her hand again, his thumb circling at her knuckles. "Kate. I'm so sorry. Captain Montgomery died in May of 2011."
"Oh." She says, because what else is there? Her mentor, her captain, her friend. Gone, for seven years, but the shock of it is instant, feels brand new. And every new piece of information he divulges just screams at her that her memories are never coming back.
There's no flicker of recognition, no kind of forewarning from her subconscious, and surely if she was to remember anything it would be this? It would be this, or it would be her son. "What happened?"
"It was part of a bigger conspiracy. And I will tell you everything, I promise you that. But not now. Not with our son in the next room." He says, his voice thick with desperation and he glances through to the living room to check on Marlow.
Oh god. Right. She's a mother, now. She can't be so selfish. Everything she does, every choice she makes in this life has to be tempered with how it might affect her little boy, how best to keep him safe. Only, this life isn't hers, not the one she knows. And already the rabbit hole is opening wide underneath her. "Castle. . .is this about my mom?"
"Yes. It is." He admits, and she folds her arms against her chest, half wanting to draw her knees up as a further barrier. "Kate, I promise you. I'll explain everything. But tonight, after he's asleep. Please just trust me."
It's irrational, and unfair of her, but anger flares hot and sickening inside her. This is her mother, this case the most important thing in her life. Compared to this stranger? It's not even a choice. "I don't know you! I don't even know who the hell I am! How do I know that I can even trust you?"
"Kate, please." He begs, but when she stands up from the couch and starts pacing he makes no move to stop her. "Please just wait a little bit longer."
"I've been waiting nine years." She spits at him, her whole body shaking with rage. And then it hits her. It's not nine years, it's nineteen. And next year? Next year she will have lived longer without her mother than she did with her.
The thought makes her stomach roll and she presses a hand over her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. It feels like all she's done is cry since she woke up in this strange new world and she hates it, feels so bitter with the weakness.
And it really doesn't help that every time she does, Castle looks like he wants to hold her so desperately, wants to absorb as much of her grief as she'll allow him to. But she can't bring herself to allow him anything.
"Kate, baby, listen to me. I know this case is so important to you. I've been right here by your side for it this whole time, I've seen what it does to you. And I'm not saying I won't tell you ever. But we need to sit and go over everything, I need to explain the whole story and show you the evidence and let you have space to process it. And you can't have that space with a toddler who'll come looking for Mommy in the next five minutes."
"I'm not your baby." She grits out, but she knows he's right. The asshole. All the fight drains out of her and she sinks down into the couch again, drops her head to her hands. "The moment he's asleep, you tell me everything."
"I will. Of course." He promises, and then she hears quiet footsteps pattering their way into the study. "Hey there, my man. Sorry Mommy and Daddy were shouting."
That's sweet of him, to shoulder the blame like that. They both know she's the only one who has been shouting, the only one who's screwing up their son. Kate lifts her head and opens her arms to him, needing the comfort of that warm little body at her chest. "Come here, baby."
He does, climbing right up into her arms and nuzzling at her neck. He's still got one of the blocks clutched in his fist and he balances it carefully on his father's knee, chokes out a bubble of laughter when Castle makes his knee bounce and the wooden brick falls down.
"I'm sorry, Mal." Kate murmurs for her son, finding that the nickname trips off of her tongue so very easily. "I was just a little bit upset."
"Daddy kiss you better." Marlow declares, looking expectantly at his father. When Castle doesn't move their son huffs and pats Kate's cheek, curls his fist in Castle's collar and drags him in close enough that Kate can feel the curl of his breath along the crag of her jaw. He waits, and she gives him a barely perceptible nod, for Mal for Mal for Mal clattering its way through her brain.
Castle – her husband, she keeps forgetting – presses a careful kiss to the underside of her cheekbone, lingering long enough to appease their son. Long enough, in fact, that Marlow pushes him away again and groans dramatically, flopping almost out of Kate's grip. "Gross kissy face, Daddy."
"Sorry, little man." Castle grins, and then he gets this mischievous look on his face that makes him look exactly like their son and he leans in slowly. Kate figures out what he's doing and plays her part, holding Marlow still so Castle can lean in and press an open-mouthed, slobbery kiss to Marlow's cheek.
Grief is still clawing at her throat, a heavy weight in her belly, but the shrieking laughter of her son somehow makes it all seem if not better, at least manageable. This time, she won't let the textured darkness of loss close over her head. Not when there's this little person who needs her so very much.
Kate yawns wide, the exhaustion of the past couple days and all of the revelations she's been hit with smacking into her full force. She didn't get a lot of sleep in the hospital last night, was more lucid than she knows Castle thought. Lucid enough that she heard much of what he whispered to her, felt the salt-slick pool of his tears against the back of her hand.
"You should take a nap, Kate." Castle says, and then he grins. "Actually, Mal, it's nap time for you too buddy."
"I nap with Mommy?" Their son says hopefully, and Castle shoots her a questioning look.
She wasn't expecting it, but having Marlow close is making everything seem that little bit brighter. And it's good to feel so needed, to have this person who loves her so deeply and expects so little from her in return.
Well. . .that's not fair. Castle hasn't asked her for anything more than she's willing to give. His patience with her has been staggering, actually. "Sure. Let's nap together."
"Great. I'm going to make some calls, let everyone know that you're doing okay." And that she still doesn't remember, but he's kind enough not to voice that part. Kate lets Marlow down and their son toddles off towards what she assumes is the bedroom.
It takes her a second, a moment to recalibrate, and then she can follow him.