Alexis pushes away, red-rimmed eyes wide, mouth formed in a perfect O of astonishment.
Kate cringes. It was a mistake, stupid of her to consider anything she might say or do would make a dent in a lifetime of Alexis' disappointment. She said it too soon, maybe it would have been better to not say it at all, but it's out there, and she meant it, and if she's reading the younger woman right, Kate just made a fool out of herself.
"I...Alexis, that sounded right in my head, but I over ste—ooof!" The rush of air leaving Kate's lungs with Alexis' rib-cracking hug makes an audible noise.
"Don't you dare take that back," Alexis hisses, squeezing harder.
"Alexis!" Kate gets out, just barely.
"Seriously, shut up, you're going to ruin it."
Kate can only squeak now, and Alexis lets go, cheeks pink with chagrin. "Sorry, you probably need to breathe."
"You're going to make me leak again." Kate's half-hearted admonition is canceled out entirely by the catch in her voice and tears gathering on her own lashes. She thumbs away a tear clinging to Alexis' chin and sighs. "Look, Alexis, I don't mean to give offense, and I won't ever mention it again, because it's not my place, but it's absolutely unfathomable how Meredith let 21 years go by without making sure she got to spend every day possible with you. You're bright and beautiful and kind and so much fun, and she's an idiot of the first order."
Alexis shakes her head and huffs out a little laugh; she's not offended in the least. "Dad tries to be a little bit diplomatic about her, because he doesn't want to drive a wedge, but Gram's been telling me the same thing my whole life."
"Rick has one job, and Martha has another, and they're both right."
Alexis wipes her eyes and nose on the cuff of her long-sleeved t-shirt. "We never talked about it, but I know I wasn't always fair to you."
Kate shakes her head. "I was a train wreck for a long time, and we both know it. You had every right to be worried about your Dad. It was never out of place."
Alexis picks at a loose string on her sleeve. "Still..."
"Hey," Kate tugs on her hand, and Alexis looks up. "Can we agree we love each other and call bygones? I'm good if you are."
"Yeah," Alexis agrees, a small smile blooming on her face. "You know, I really like the two of you together now. The way you are, it makes me want what you have."
Kate is glad she's been sitting for this conversation, because if the sheer violence of Alexis' embrace hadn't done it earlier, this would have definitely landed her on the floor. She's going to end up crying again, no question. "Including the years of heartache, miscommunication and outright stupidity?" Kate asks, hoping to lighten the moment.
Alexis wrinkles her nose. "I'd just as soon skip the drama."
"Good call." Kate takes a deep breath. "I love him, I do. I never thought I'd get the chance to be this happy."
"You're peaceful now," Alexis observes, thoughtful. "You didn't used to be."
Kate looks up, a little surprised. "Yeah, I think that's true. It's nice, belonging somewhere. Family-wise, I mean. It didn't feel like this, so close to complete, for a long time. You're a big part of that."
Alexis just nods, shyly, picking at the string on her sleeve again, the same, pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Thanks."
It floods back with such clarity, a memory of her mother. It was three weeks before the fall semester of her freshman year, and Johanna had taken a day off work to help pack Kate's boxes for Stanford. The whole day was a litany of unsolicited advice, and more than one detour through an old photo album they found while packing. They were sitting across from one another on the foot of Kate's twin bed, just as Kate and Alexis are now, with an album of baby pictures open between them and cardboard boxes all around.
"You know this is going to change things, right?" her mother had asked. "It's supposed to, this is the way it works. It'll change how you see the world and what you want from it. Four years from now, I promise, it won't be the same as it is now. It's not a bad thing, it just means you're growing up."
"Mom, really-" Kate had tried to cut her off.
"No, Katie, all the admonitions about boys and partying aside, I need you to hear this, more than anything else. Whatever changes over the next few years, one thing will always be true - you're mine. I can't say that with such conviction about anyone else on earth." Tears started to gather on Johanna's lashes, her voice wavering but sure. "God let me help make you, and raise you, and you're going to take everything we taught you to California and become whoever you're going to be. I have all the faith in the world that you're going to make an amazing life for yourself. But whatever happens, Katie, I want you to know that if it ever falls apart, you can always come home. Because you're mine, and I'll always want you, no matter what."
Kate had cried, and her mother cried, too. That benediction stuck with Kate, the indelible mark of a mother who loved and supported her. Even though it didn't turn out to be strictly true. Her life definitely fell apart, but there was no home to go to, not for a long time. But Kate had no doubt she and her mother would be the best of friends now. Had Johanna only lived.
One day, probably sooner than any of them imagine, Alexis will have a day that calls for a mother's touch. Practically, and probably emotionally speaking, it's Kate's job now, and she means to do it. For weeks, it's all been about the baby; she and Castle both preoccupied with doctor's appointments, nursery details and packing and repacking her hospital bag. Apparently, today gets to be about Alexis, too. It's fitting. After all, Ethan isn't the only Castle baby.
Kate starts to ease off the bed. "Baby brother."
"Right." Alexis wipes at her cheeks and runs her hands back through her hair. "Do you need anything?"
Kate pushes all the way off the mattress and sways a little. "Just someone to hold onto so I don't run face-first into a wall."
Alexis is off the bed in a flash, stepping around to offer her arm. "At your service."
They head out the door and down the hall toward the nursery, arm in arm, bumping shoulders companionably. It's not exactly a blistering pace, but Kate is grateful to be seeing something other than the four walls of her room.
"Did you see the nursery on the way in?" Alexis asks.
"No, but we did a tour at the start of November. I think we turn left. Or right. Really, I have no idea now. I just know it's on the opposite side of the building from the nurses' station."
Alexis, unconvinced, lets go and jogs ahead to make sure they're even on the right hallway. At the intersection, she looks, left, and then right. And right some more. She glances back at Kate. The look on Alexis' face is something Kate can't identify, she just knows it's not right.
"Alexis?"
"We have a problem? Or we don't, maybe. It depends."
A problem? A little of the nausea that plagued Kate all morning stirs in her gut. There's a hand rail along one wall, and Kate leans over to grasp it. "What problem?"
Alexis drifts back from the hallway intersection, nearer to Kate. "Dad's in the nursery, talking to one of the nurses."
"Okay?"
"Those pictures you took in the park that day? Of him?"
"Of your dad?" Kate asks, thoroughly confused.
"No, Kate. Him."
"Him?" Kate's typically quick wits are set to nominal today, and it takes a minute to register. "*Him* him? Charles?"
"Yeah, he's sitting on the floor outside the nursery, holding a baby. I think he's holding Ethan."
