Chapter 3

Sitting at her desk that Saturday morning Kate was for once appreciating the near-silence of the precinct. Of course there were plenty of her coworkers on duty, but most seemed to be out and about, which made sense now that the busy holiday season was upon them. Those that were in the office were quietly doing research or typing up reports, leaving Kate to do the same for the moment.

The prior week had been the week after Thanksgiving or, for most Americans, the first week of the Christmas holiday season—aka one of Kate's least favorite weeks of the year. While she hadn't minded Christmas at all as a child—like most youths she looked forward to it with excitement—in the wake of her mother's death so close to the holiday she had all but completely abandoned all yuletide cheer. Unfortunately, merely existing around that time of year made it nearly impossible to not be assaulted with festiveness from every corner of existence: every shop, outside and in, seemingly every television commercial and radio advertisement. Hell, even her coworkers had begun decorating their workstations!

Four weeks. It was only four weeks until it would be over and things would go back to normal. Well, she had to get through the ninth anniversary of her mother's death in early January, but then everything would get back to normal.

Just as Kate was about to reach for her phone to check for any missed messages, a take-away cup of coffee descended into her field of vision and landed just beside her left hand. Her jaw fell open slightly as she recognized the hand holding the cup but was confused as to its presence in her precinct on a Saturday. Spinning her chair to the side, she gazed up at her partner, who wore a dopey grin and cradled a cup identical to the one he'd presented to her.

"Hello."

"Wha…Castle—what are you doing here? Where's Alexis?" she asked. For as long as she had known him, Castle had never worked on a Saturday. He had explained to her many months before that Saturdays were daddy-daughter hangout days, which he did because of the many Saturdays he missed spending with his mother when she was doing both a matinee and evening theatre performance. While she found these sentiments very sweet and certainly admired his dedication, she wondered how such a commitment was possible. He explained in his early PI days that it was a struggle and they did end up settling for half-days together, but he did all that he could to avoid working on a Saturday, which was why his presence was quite surprising.

"I just dropped her off so she could have a playdate with two of her friends from school. Then, I came to check on you."

She let out a breathy laugh and guessed, "Bored already?"

He smiled and plopped down in his unofficial seat next to her desk. "Not at all—actually I'm here to save you from your boredom."

"My boredom?"

"Yes—a Saturday of doing paperwork; how awful." He added with a scrunched nose that made it seem like filling out forms was as unpleasant as sorting through week-old garbage in the middle of August.

Leaning back in her seat, Kate nipped at her bottom lip as she gazed at him with slight disbelief. "You know for someone who has their own business, you certainly have an extreme distaste for paperwork. How do you keep anything organized?"

He puffed out his chest proudly. "My paperwork is perfectly fine, thank you very much. It's simple—streamline. Filling out forms in triplicate, however? The worst."

She laughed at his groan—not that she disagreed. Thankfully, the days of writing out forms until her hand cramped up were more and more in the past. "It's much better now that we're slowly going digital."

"True."

"Well…thanks for the coffee."

He smiled at her when she reached for the cup. "Always."

Kate chuckled and turned back to her computer screen. She wasn't entirely sure how it started, but one day she found Castle bringing her a caffeinated beverage almost every time he showed up at one of her crime scenes. Initially, she was irritated by the act—thinking it was his way of trying to butter her up so she would allow him to stay and participate in the investigation. She always accepted the coffee, of course (like she would ever turn down coffee!), but it annoyed her. The more they worked together, however, she realized it was, in part, his way of buttering her up, but mostly it was a gesture of appreciation, for he knew how lucky he was to be one of the only consultants the NYPD used regularly.

"Well, unfortunately for you, I really do need to—oh." Kate cut herself off when her phone chirped. She looked down at the screen to see a message from dispatch informing her of a body discovered just a few blocks away. Shaking her head at the luck her partner had stumbled upon, she picked up the device and smiled at him. "Well, would you look at that. I just got notification that-"

"YES! A body!" The PI cheered with such enthusiasm that some of the coffee in his take-away cup sloshed out of the drinking hole and landed on the side of his wrist. He licked it off and then hopped to his feet announcing, "I'm ready!"

Shaking her head, she chastised, "Too excited, Castle; someone is dead."

The grin not leaving his face he said, "Sorry. I'll work on my solemn face while we're in the car."

Rolling her eyes, Kate merely reached for her coat and then picked up her coffee before heading to the elevator with her partner practically skipping behind her.

"Wh-oa! What happened here?" Castle proclaimed when they arrived in the alley to find their female victim with a slashed throat, her body strung up between a fire escape and a dumpster.

The medical examiner on duty, Kate's friend Lanie Parish, gave them both a curious look, which Kate quickly shook off. "Please ignore him; he's too gleeful."

Castle clicked his tongue. "Well excuse me for enjoying the first sunny, above-freezing day we've had in weeks!"

Kate shrugged one shoulder as he wasn't entirely wrong. Winter had hit them full-force in the middle of November, forcing the temperatures at- or below-freezing for days at a time. With that day predicting a high of nearly fifty-degrees it certainly was a refreshing change. In her mind, however, that was not an excuse to be excited about someone's demise.

Lanie eyed him cautiously for another moment before humming out, "Uh huh, well let me tell you about our strung-up friend here."

"Excellent, I—oh, hang on," he said when a jazz tune could be heard. His ring tone, evidently, for a moment later he retrieved his phone from his pocket and pressed it to his ear. "Well hello Mrs. Thompson! How are the girls? What…what do you—god, wait, slow down. What? Fuck—I—I'm on my way."

As she watched her partner's expression morph from gleeful to concerned, Kate felt some worry herself, but when he appeared downright frantic, her heart stuttered in her chest and she questioned, "Castle? What's wrong?"

Wide-eyed with his chest heaving, he looked at her, almost shocked that she was standing there beside him. Then he stammered out, "I…Alexis…hospital…"

"What? Alexis is in the hospital?"

"I have to…" He didn't finish his sentence before sprinting off towards the street. Kate quickly followed after him and found him pacing like a rabid animal along two feet of sidewalk. "Where are the cabs…or subway? Where's the subway?"

Kate caught up to him and placed her hands on each of his biceps to halt him. Using her well-perfected police training, she spoke calmly and evenly to him, even though her heart hammered inside his chest. "Rick. Take a breath. Hey, look at me."

When his frantic eyes finally focused on here, they gazed at each other for fifteen seconds before she felt his body began to tremble as he uttered out, "Alexis is in the hospital; she fell through the ice."

"Wha…Oh—okay." Of course the situation was far from okay, but Kate tried to process it as a cop, not as one of his dear friends. If Castle had received a call from the mother of the girl Alexis was with, that meant that Alexis was already under the care of doctors, so no matter the form of transportation Castle took to wherever his daughter was, it would not affect her progress; she was already being cared for.

"Okay, Rick, just take a deep breath. No, no—look at me," she said when his crazed-eyes darted towards the street. "Just keep looking at me, okay? What hospital is Alexis at?"

"I, um, I…shit! I don't—I don't know! I don't know!"

"Hey—it's okay." She moved her right hand to touch his cheek when she felt him slipping away. "We're going to figure it out, okay? Let me just call dispatch and we'll figure it out."

She reached into her coat pocket for her phone and with one hand still on Rick's bicep to hold him in place, she called into central dispatch, asking about an incident that morning during which a girl fell through ice—presumably in Central Park. After being put on hold for an agonizing forty-five seconds, the dispatcher informed her that yes, there was one such incident, but the call was no longer active as the victim was transported to a hospital.

Kate's stomach flipped when she thought of the sweet, red-headed girls' face in connection with the word "victim." She managed to keep her wits about her, though, and obtained all the necessary information for her partner, who now looked like he was about to explode.

Putting the phone away, Kate said, "Okay, she's at Lenox Hill and I'm going to have one of these uniformed officers take you right there, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed as he wrung his hands together and went back to pacing while she flagged down one of the uniforms keeping the scene clear of pedestrians. She flashed her badge and explained the situation then jogged back to drag Castle to the waiting squad car. She opened the front passenger door for him but caught his sleeve before he could duck inside.

The tightness in his jaw and stress-wrinkles across his brow made her chest ache, but she tried her best to give him a believable smile. "It's okay, Castle; you'll be with Alexis soon, and I'll come by to see you later, okay."

"Okay." He echoed distantly. He then stepped one foot into the car, but before he sat down he looked at her pleadingly and rasped out, "Kate."

She didn't need any more words to understand his meaning. He was terrified that the most important person in his life was not only in a hospital, but potentially gravely injured. Though she hoped for the best, Kate imagined that Castle was presently thinking of worst-case-scenarios, and she could not say she would have done differently were their positions reversed. Knowing there was nothing she could say to ease his agony, she merely stroked her thumb across his cheek and whispered, "I know. I'll see you later."

With that, she stepped back onto the sidewalk and watched as the squad car turned on its flashing lights and pulled out into traffic.

Richard Castle raced into the emergency room of Lenox Hill Hospital as though he was completing the last ten yards of the hundred meter dash in the Olympic finals. His shoes skidded on the polished floor as he frantically searched around for the registration desk or anyone who looked like they were in charge. He needed to see his daughter—and he needed to see her as soon as humanly possible.

God, Alexis. How had this happened? How had she fallen though ice? Why was she even on ice?

His writer's brain had spun dozens of different scenarios on the ten-minute drive to the hospital. He couldn't fathom which if any of them had been correct, but for perhaps one of the only times in his life the answers to his questions could wait—at least until he saw her and confirmed that she was going to be okay.

His heart thundering beneath his ribs, Castle spun around on the spot again until he spotted the registration area, which in his maddened state he hadn't seen despite it being almost directly in front of him the whole time. Thankfully there wasn't a line—not that it would have mattered; he would have shoved his way up to the counter anyway.

"My daughter—she—where is she?" he blasted out before the desk attendant had even acknowledged his presence.

"Sir-"

"I need to see her! I need—I need to make sure-"

"Sir," the woman repeated an edge of impatience in her voice. "Sir, you need to calm down, and then tell me-"

"Ice! She fell through ice!"

Still appearing patient, the woman nodded and said. "Just one moment while I look at our intake records."

"Hurry! Please!" He implored her before bringing up his hands to cover his mouth. Only then did he realize how badly they were shaking. How he hadn't had a heart attack or vomited yet since first receiving Mrs. Thompson's terrible phone call he wasn't sure; he must have only been running on pure adrenaline.

When the hospital employee had been quiet far longer than Castle wished (which, in reality, was only about thirty or forty seconds), he began rattling off, "Her name is Alexis. She's seven and I…I need to…"

"Mr. Castle?"

Hearing his name from behind, he whipped around to come face to face with Mrs. Thompson and her daughter, Liz. While this should have been a relief—finding the two people in the hospital perhaps best qualified to tell him what had happened—seeing the agony etched on their faces only fueled the horror he felt within his chest. The elder woman had her hands firmly resting atop her daughter's shoulders, her face contorted with uncertainty. The dark haired little girl had a puffy face splotched with red marks; a clear indicator that she had been heavily crying.

Despite the fact that their expressions caused him to falter initially, Castle quickly recovered and asked of them. "Have you seen Alexis? Where is she? What—god—what!?" He demanded as Mrs. Thompson shook her head and tears formed in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Castle."

Castle felt his stomach lurch up into his throat, for her words—the way she spoke—it was all so reminiscent of the dozens of crime scenes he'd visited. It was the "I'm sorry this tragedy" occurred apology; the one he'd never expected to hear in relation to a member of his own family. Dead; she's dead, his brain began to tell him, but he pushed such thoughts away and rasped out, "What happened?"

"The girls were playing on the bridge and Alexis fell off."

"What bridge? In Central Park? But why—why would she do that? Alexis knows better than to-"

"It's my fault," Liz croaked out, tears continuing to streak down her cheeks. "I dared her—I dared her to get on top and she slipped."

"God," Castle croaked out, his last shreds of hope that he had somehow misheard or misunderstood Mrs. Thompson's phone call evaporated with the knowledge that it was all true. Alexis had been on top of a pedestrian bridge, slipped off, and landed in what must have been barely-frozen water.

"She was in the water for a few minutes. Some bystanders helped us, but by the time they got her out…" Mrs. Thompson's voice drifted off and Castle wasn't sure if that was to save himself from hearing the details of his daughter's injury, or because she couldn't bring herself to repeat them.

"I…I don't—does that mean—"

"Sir?"

Castle spun around again and, upon realizing a hospital employee was trying to get his attention, he abandoned the Thompsons and rushed forward demanding, "Where is she? Where's Alexis?"

The woman dressed in pink scrubs—presumably a nurse—held up her right hand in a futile attempt to calm the near-frantic man. "Sir, I'm going to take you up to the ICU and they'll brief you up there."

"ICU?" he repeated, feeling a fresh onslaught of horror flood into his veins.

The woman merely nodded and gestured for him to follow her toward a bank of elevators. When she pressed the button that would take them to a higher floor, she turned and asked, "Have you already called your wife?"

"Wha…I…I'm not married," he said a bit dumbly, holding up his ring-free left hand.

Again, she nodded and said, "This way, sir."

Castle stood beside her during the two-floor acent, feeling his stomach twist more and more with every foot the car ascended. The nurse then directed him towards the wing labeled ICU, but he was stopped by another nurse—that one wearing polka dotted scrubs—before he could charge the entrance. "Please—my daughter! I need to see my daughter!" He begged, but the woman calmly guided him towards a nurses' station where a woman in a white doctor's coat waited. He once again issued his plea to her.

"Sir, I'm Doctor Hendricks, the attending physician here today. Your name is?"

"Richard Castle. Please I need to-"

She cut him off by holding up her hand. "I know you want to see your daughter, and I will take you to see her in a moment, but first I would like to brief you on her condition."

Feeling his kneecaps begin to tremble at how dramatically drawn out their conversation was becoming, he bobbed his head once.

"When Alexis arrived here, the EMTs told us they believed that she was under the water for several minutes before being pulled out by bystanders, who then began performing CPR. The EMT's were able to get her heart beating again, but right now she's not breathing on her own, so she has a tube that's helping deliver oxygen to her lungs."

Castle took a half step as his worst nightmares were coming to life. "But I…I don't…is she going to be okay?"

The doctor gave him a soft smile. "We're optimistic, but at this point it's too soon to tell. The next twenty-four hours will be critical."

"My god…" Castle sighed out and reached for the counter at the nurses' station, not sure he would be able to remain standing for much longer. "How…how could this happen? I don't…I…"

"Sir, do you have any relatives you can call? Perhaps Alexis's mother?"

Jesus. Meredith. He'd have to tell Meredith. While in a reverse situation he would have wanted to be told immediately, he couldn't call Meredith just then. He was having enough trouble processing without her shrieking in his ear. "No. She's…she's not… please—can I see her. I need to see my daughter."

The doctor nodded. "Please come with me. Just so you know, in addition to the breathing tube, we still have some warming blankets on her."

He followed the white-coat-wearing woman into the ICU and stopped when he caught sight of the burst of orange hair at the top of the second bed from the door. Tears immediately stung his eyes and he felt rooted in the spot. God, oh god—his little girl. He could barely see anything more than her forehead and eyes thanks to the breathing tubes, but she looked so very small—hardly taking up more than a fraction of the bed she'd been placed in the center of.

"Oh my god," he sniffled out. "Look at her; she's so small…"

"There weren't any pediatric beds available when she came in and we won't move her until she's stable. Are…are you sure there isn't anyone you can call?"

Inside his mind, the first person he thought of was Kate. She was barely a few blocks away, most likely the closest person he considered a dear friend and family—at least, in a physical sense, but she'd just been handed a murder case. She would be busy and he couldn't take her from her work. Thinking past the kind face he wished to see in that moment, he thought of the other red-head in his life.

"Ah…my mother. She's…she's traveling for work but, but I can call and see…"

The doctor nodded kindly. "Okay, well you can use the chair there, and we'll have a nurse update you in a few hours, okay?"

"Okay…" He was vaguely aware of the doctor walking away, but his eyes were trained on Alexis's face and how pale she seemed. Being mindful of the wires and machines, he tip-toed up to her side as best he could in the tight space, arched his torso over the bed, and pressed his lips to her head. "I'm here, sweetheart. Daddy's here," he whispered to her. "I'm here, and I'm not going to leave you—not until you wake up."