May 15, 2011

He hadn't managed more than a few measly hours of sleep, tossing and turning, regretting so many of his little missteps.

He hadn't meant to spring the news on Alexis. He had planned on telling her as soon as they found out the paternity of the child. Knowing the paternity would have made it a significantly easier conversation. Either 'Alexis, you're going to have a sibling' or 'Alexis, Kate and I are giving this a real go. Oh, by the way, she's pregnant but I'm okay with it'.

Yes, much easier than the complicated mess that was their current reality. A reality he didn't particularly want to bring his daughter in on. So, in lieu of enlightening her, he allowed her to make her assumptions and storm off to her bedroom. Not his finest moment as a parent, but it bought him some time to figure out exactly how much she actually needed to know.

He poured the first of the pancake batter onto the pan, wiping the edge of the bowl with his finger so that batter didn't drip onto the bench.

He heard a voice from the stairs.

"You're up early."

He looked up to see a tired looking Alexis slowly descending.

"Couldn't sleep," he said simply. No point in excuses.

"Same." She stood awkwardly by the dining table, watching as he flipped his first pancake. "Are you mad at me?"

"I've always encouraged you to express yourself: emotions, opinions, the good and the bad," he said, moving his attention from his breakfast to his daughter. "I'd be a little hypocritical if I got mad as soon as you expressed an opinion that differed to mine."

She didn't say anything, just stared at the ground fidgeting with the sleeve of her sleep shirt.

"Are you okay, after everything?" he asked, a little anxious to know her truthful answer.

Whether he liked it or not, she was a stakeholder in this. It didn't matter how much he tried to distance her from his romantic life, his relationships affected her. She had every right to be cautious, to feel whatever emotions that this situation provoked.

But, at the end of the day, it was his relationship, his heart that he would listen to.

She shrugged, moving toward the kitchen and perching herself on one of the counter stools.

"I'm worried you're making a mistake," she confessed.

"We all make mistakes." He lifted the pancake from the pan and slapped it onto the plate he had set out for himself. "It's what makes us human," he added, pouring more batter into the pan.

"But if you can stop yourself from making a mistake, shouldn't you?"

He could hear the concern in her voice, so genuine. He knew this wasn't coming from a place of malice or malevolence, just love. Pure, misguided love. Something he was very familiar with.

"The mistake has already been made," he urged. The mistake has been made, now we're moving forward. "We rushed into things. That was our mistake. She was fresh out of a relationship. Neither of us were really ready for what being together actually meant. It got complicated too quickly."

"And now she's pregnant," she spat with a bitterness he resented seeing in his usually sweet daughter. The turbulent situation was taking its toll on everyone. "Doesn't it bother you knowing she probably only came back was because she was pregnant?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "I was furious."

Furious, hurt, confused.

"But you forgave her."

"I prioritised," he explained simply. "I could stay mad about what could have been, or I could accept what is."

Alexis crossed her arms in front of her, leaning them against the counter with a huff.

"I thought you liked her?" he asked, seizing the opportunity to try and get to the root of this problem. "It seemed like you liked her."

"I did. I mean, I do. I just..." she took a deep breath, trying to find the words to efficiently explain herself. "It's like you met her and... everything changed. You're not the same person you used to be."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily. The opposite, in fact. The person you are now is great. But you've changed so much, for her, and she acts like it's still not enough. I just don't want you to lose yourself."

"I haven't changed for her. I've changed because of her." He set his spatula down, leaning on the bench so that they were face to face. "Because of you, and Gram, because I'm older, because I've been exposed to more, experienced more. We all need change, we all need experiences, no matter how they end, good or bad they make us who we are."

He allowed the silence to settle, knowing she was processing his words, that he was getting through to her.

"Experiences like... Stanford?" she asked, a smirk toying at the corners of her mouth.

He was a little proud of how she worked that in there. A little sad, and a little annoyed that he had unknowingly just argued a very valid reason for 'letting go' of her. But proud, nonetheless.

"Yeah, like Stanford."

He stood, moving back to the stovetop and flopped the second pancake onto the plate with the first, sliding it toward her. He grabbed the syrup, sliding it toward her too.

"Eat your pancakes," he muttered, not quite willing to accept defeat.

She smiled at the reprieve he offered, opening the bottle of syrup and pouring it over the fresh pancakes.

"Thanks, Dad."


She stayed in bed, opting out of her morning run. She was too tired, too comfortable. And a storm was coming, brewing somewhere in the distance.

She could hear the low rumble of thunder, feel the tension in the atmosphere as clouds grew heavy with rain. She could feel it in her chest, in her throat. It was thick, it was suffocating.

But she couldn't see it. No, the skies were blue. The forecast was clear. Not a cloud in sight.

This storm was in her head. In her heart. Because she had been conditioned to know that nothing good ever lasted. And right now, life was good.

Complicated, yes. But good.

She wondered, just for a moment, exactly how open with Castle she had to be. Did she need to tell him that she was already, merely 12 hours after their conversation, battling the demons within? That her dreams had been spoiled by scenes of him leaving, of her slowly poisoning him with her love? That she had woken up in a cold sweat, on the verge of tears, because she was still so scared of becoming a mother?

She inhaled deeply, allowing the negative thoughts to dissipate as she exhaled. She could do this. She could dive right in, not let the fear take over, not let the fear ruin it. She just had to stay focused on the goal, on what she truly wanted. Raising a child seemed a little less terrifying knowing that she would have Castle by her side.

Lazily, she rolled onto her stomach, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. She opened her messages, to see an unread text from Lanie.

You talk to Castle yet?

She rolled her eyes, smiling. Her friend never did beat around the bush. Straight to the point, always. That was something she loved about Lanie. She rolled back over and sinking into the fort of pillows she had built last night, trying to get comfortable, she typed out her reply.

Less than 60 seconds after tossing her phone into the cushiony comforter, it began to ring. She dug it out again, answering with a smile.

"That was quick," she said, laughing, bypassing any sort of greeting.

"Everything is good? That's all I get?" Her friend was also not willing to waste time with formalities, apparently.

"What else do you want?" she asked, acting confused. She knew exactly what Lanie wanted.

"Details!"

She let out another low chuckle, pleased with herself for predicting exactly where this conversation was headed.

"There are no details."

"Girl." Her friend's voice was low, warning, but playful.

She could envision Lanie's face as clearly as if she had been standing in the room. Her don't play with me expression; her arms crossed over her chest.

"I promise, if there were details, I'd share." She paused for a quick moment, before continuing. "Maybe."

"I'm envisioning some big romantic event," Lanie mused out loud.

"Like the slow motion run through the airport?"

"Something like that."

"No," she said bluntly, bursting her friend's bubble. "This is real life, Lanie. Not one of your shows."

"Yes, but it is also Richard Castle we are talking about."

Kate laughed, softly. Lanie did have a fair point.

"I got to go, Javi is awake. But don't think you're off the hook. We'll talk later."

"Kay, bye."

The line disconnected and she was left with the silence of her apartment. The small, positive interaction had worked wonders for starting to settle that internal storm. She smiled, relaxed into the pillows, reassured that yes, she could do this. She could dive right in, and everything would be okay.

She wasn't even disheartened by the onset of the now-familiar pull of nausea that was beginning to settle deep in her stomach.

"Right on time," she groaned, breathing through the first crash of waves.


The nausea remained... tolerable. The waves continued to rush over her relentlessly but, either she was getting too used to this, or its intensity was beginning to subside. Apart from a few moments of uncertainty, she was able to push through and continue on with her morning.

Not that she had much planned. It was nearing 11am and she was still just lounging around in her pyjamas, reading a book. She was just getting to the good part when a knock at her door pulled her back to reality.

She dropped the book to her lap, briefly considering ignoring the intrusion, but ultimately deciding against doing so. She stuffed a scrap piece of paper into the book to mark her spot, then placed it on the coffee table, rising to her feet. As she walked to the door, she pulled the hair tie from her hair, freeing the sloppily crafted ponytail. A quick peek through the peephole had her feeling much better about her uninvited visitor.

She opened the door with a smile. She hadn't expected him, but it was a pleasant surprise.

"Hey, Castle."

"Hey," he replied, significantly less enthusiastic than she was.

He offered a small smile as he entered her apartment, but she could see the effort he had to put into it.

Her smile faded. "What's wrong?"

She shut the door behind them, taking his hand and leading him to the sofa.

"Alexis," he muttered, not offering any further explanation. He sunk into the sofa cushions, gripping her waist to guide her down beside him, close enough to press into his side. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" She rested her head on his shoulder, savoured the feel of his arms wrapping around her. She felt secure, protected, loved. But she couldn't ignore the obvious sorrow Castle was feeling. "You want to talk about it?"

He turned his head, rested his lips gently against her forehead.

"No," he whispered, kissing her hairline. "Just want to be here."

He felt the slight sting of guilt, having asked her to be an open book and then not opening up to her. But, she seemed to accept his reluctance, nuzzling into him further. This was exactly what he needed.

She wrapped both her hands around his, intertwining their fingers and stroking her thumb along his in slow, soothing motions. There they stayed, just taking this moment to be with each other, to breathe each other in. His presence calming her as much as hers was calming him.

"Do you have plans for the day?"

"No." She pulled her head from the pillow of his chest, looking up at him. "Did you want to do something?"

"I have an idea." He placed a kiss to her temple before pulling himself from his position on the couch. "Get dressed."

He grabbed her hands, pulled her to her feet.

"Let me know if you need help," he added with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, earning him an enthusiastic eye roll.


"The mall?" she urged for clarification. His big idea was... the mall?

"The mall," he confirmed with a smile, grabbing her hand as they walked through the car park.

"You made me change out of comfy sweatpants for the mall?" she joked... kind of.

They entered the building and were immediately met with a crowd of people: teenagers hanging out in small groups; mothers desperately trying to keep their toddlers from melting down from the overstimulation; people rushing to finish their errands before the work week started again. The echo of hundreds of conversations, the hustle of hordes of people moving around her already had her feeling less than great.

"Castle-"

"Look, I just..." he interrupted her before she could finish her complaint, but he needed a moment to string together the words, to really sell this idea to her. "I was thinking about you and the baby and I just, I think we're ready to buy the first baby related item."

"You want to buy baby stuff?" She hoped she misheard him; she wasn't ready for this.

"It's like a rite of passage," he explained. "You're out running errands or something and you happen to see a tiny pair of baby socks and you know that it's way too early to be buying the big-ticket items like nursery furniture, but the socks are just too damn cute, you can't resist."

She listened intently, but it was like he was speaking another language.

"You want to buy baby socks?" she summarised.

He sighed. He should have known she wouldn't understand.

"No, I want you to want to buy socks."

He led her into a little boutique that sold all things maternity and baby. Clothes for mom and bub, pumps, bottles, blankets, toys. You name it, they sold it.

He vowed to himself to take it easy on her, he knew she was struggling with this, and he had assured her he didn't expect that to change overnight. But that didn't mean he couldn't help the process a little, right?

Together they moved through the store, taking in the options before them: aisles of toys; racks of clothing; display tables of the newest 'must have' accessories for baby and mom. He had to admit, the variety was a little overwhelming.

"Do babies even wear socks?" she asked as she half-heartedly browsed the pile of bibs stacked on the table in front of her. "I thought most onesies had little foot things."

"Okay, you're focusing a little too much on the sock part. It doesn't have to be socks, just-" He sighed, maybe this was too much too soon. "You know what? Never mind."

He turned to walk away but she reached out and grabbed his hand before he could get too far.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, her eyes pleading with him to give her another chance. "Let's go find something too cute to resist."

"You know if you get socks, I'm going to know you're just doing it to appease me, right?"

"I'm 100% just doing this to appease you, Castle," she confessed. "But fine, no socks."

Dropping his hand, she walked over to the racks of clothes. Tiny garments hung from miniature clothes hangers, organised by size and colour. She immediately headed for the more neutral tones, while Castle moved to the colourful side of the rack.

"I think the planning behind this kind of defeats the purpose of the activity," she mused as she flicked tiny hangers along the rail to check out what cutesy embellishments each item of clothing had.

"Yeah, a little," he said, as he did the same.

He stopped his browsing, distracted by a cream-coloured bodysuit with rainbow sleeves. As he read the words on the front, he saw an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

His humour had gotten him in trouble before, many times. But he took the gamble, pulling it from the rack and holding it up for Kate to see.

She narrowed her eyes as she read the wording on the suit: I love my daddies.

"Seriously, Castle?"

"Too soon?"

She pressed her lips together in a fine line, trying to repress the smile his proud smirk brought out. Not the most tasteful joke, but she was glad he was able to find humour in the situation. Laughing his way through anything: that was how she knew she hadn't completely ruined him.

"Maybe next time," she jested, making her way around the rack to stand closer to him.

He placed the clothing back on the rack before opening his arm to welcome her against his body. He guided her toward the next display, not expecting her to find anything but at least she was still looking, still appeasing his need for this.

After a few perfectly synchronised steps together, he felt her pull away, distracted by something. He looked over to see her running her finger over the soft material petals of a flower headband that had caught her attention. It may have only been a few seconds, but he was almost certain this was as good as he was going to get.

"I think we've found your pair of socks," he said.

She looked up at him, brow creased.

"And if the baby is a boy?"

He shrugged.

"He'll be a very pretty boy, with a very pretty flower."

She smiled, tried to hide the little laugh. Yes, a very pretty flower.

"It's a two-dollar headband. Not exactly a big waste of money if it never actually gets used. Especially if it helps the bonding."

"Bonding?"

He took the headband from the hook it hung on, holding it up.

"This tiny little bit of elastic and silk makes this-" He placed a hand on her hip, drawing his thumb across her lower abdomen. "It makes this real."

She was too slow to stop the instinctive eye roll.

"I think the constant nausea does a pretty good job at making this seem real, Castle."

"You know, I don't think I've heard you refer to it as your baby."

His words took her by surprise, stating something that was seemingly apparent, but she hadn't even noticed.

"What?"

"You always say the baby."

Because my baby just didn't seem right. She didn't want my baby; she wanted their baby... our baby.

"Does it matter?" she huffed.

He didn't mean to start an argument - if that's what this was - but yes, it did matter.

"Can we not do this here, please?" she begged.

He pulled his hand from her, passing the headband back to her with a gentle smile.

"I'm not going to force this, just know that I'm here when you're ready."

She stared up at him, his eyes so understanding, so patient. He was trying so hard to make this easier for her, while still giving her gentle nudges to keep moving forward. That's all he wanted, to keep moving forward.

"Babies have little heads," she said, trying to move past the tense almost-conversation.

"What?" He laughed at the absurdity.

"This headband is going to be the size of his head," she clarified.

He smiled at her use of pronouns.

"You think the baby is going to be a boy?"

"My baby." She forced the words, surprised at how easily they came out. She smiled. "A very pretty boy, with a very pretty flower."

She looked at the band in her hands. It's so unnecessary, and she still doesn't really understand how it makes this any more 'real' than it already is, but he seemed happy that she'd picked something.

She looked over to the opposite side of the store, toward the maternity clothes. She knew she would probably be needing something soon, her jeans would only last so long, so she took the opportunity to appease Castle further.

"Can we maybe have a look for, I don't know, work pants or something?"

"Of course." He grabbed her hand and walked toward the maternity clothes.

He would buy her the whole store if she asked for it. But he knew that would be the next argument, money. And, so, he let her take the lead, picking out and paying for whatever she was comfortable with.