He can't do it. Can't. Can't bear to hear his daughter scream like that.

The doctor kicked Kate out right before they got started. He said it was standard procedure. Claimed he'd seen too many mothers break down at seeing their kids in such a vulnerable place.

And now he understands why.

His fifteen-month-old is screaming and wriggling on the exam table, tears streaming down her red face. The crinkling of the paper covering only adds to the sound in the room.

And yet, the doctor and nurse are calm; carrying on as if nothing was happening.

"You're okay, baby girl," Rick says again, rubbing Finn's face. "It's gonna be over soon."

"You're doing amazing," the nurse smiles as she grips Finn's leg and he's not sure if it's directed towards him or the baby. She's holding it in just the right position while the doctor puts the fiberglass cast on. It's going to match the other tiny let already wrapped in a yellow cast.

The casts, combined with the four shots in either leg, were part of a treatment plan to get Finn walking.

Their determined, frustrated little girl who just wanted to run and play with her siblings.

He and Kate were doing whatever they could to help Nemo live as happy a life as she could. If that meant she was wheelchair-bound or lived at home her whole life, then so be it. All the loud nay-sayers in their life and on the internet who thought their opinions on their daughter's life mattered be damned.

What they didn't imagine was the stubbornness and determination their daughter had. She was the first of the five to talk (and hadn't stopped since). She worked so hard in therapy, even when the doctors put her in the most uncomfortable positions. She wanted, more than anything, to move and play and made her desires known to anyone who would listen.

"Alright, we're all done!" The doctor announces as he starts to clean up.

Rick scoops Finn up, cradles her against his chest, feels his shirt instantly get wet with her tears. "Okay, Nemo girl, you're done. It's all over." He rubs her back and shushes her, feels her body start to relax as she realizes where she is and that the scary part is over.

"Alright, Angela at the desk can take care of scheduling your next appointment. I'll see you next time." And with a quick handshake, the doctor is gone. Just like that. So casual.

"Alright, let's go see Mommy, huh?" Caste says to his daughter.

He follows the hallway back out to the front lobby.

Kate reaches the door in a flash. She'd never admit to pacing the room the entire time, but somehow Castle knows that's exactly what she did.

"How did it go?" She asks.

"She did so good. Such a big girl," Castle cheers, handing her off to Kate.

"Oh, I'm so happy. You did good, huh baby?" Kate murmurs into Finn's ear, the curl of her hair tickling her nose.

"Mama! Ma, ma, ma," Finn says, explaining what happened.

"I know! They put casts on your legs. You were so brave!" Kate turns to her husband, sees the slightly shell-shocked look on his face. "Babe? How are you?"

"I'm -" he pauses. "I'm okay. It was rough." his quiet confession squeezes at her heart. "I'm glad you weren't there. I don't think I could be strong enough for both of my girls."

"You are," Kate says, her soft smile lighting up her eyes. "You are." She doesn't need to say more; he knows. He's been her rock through all of this. Been their kids' rock. "But you're right. I don't think I would have been okay in there. I was a wreck out here," she chuckles at herself. "I'm glad she wasn't alone." She hugs Finn tighter, smacking another kiss on her cheek and making her laugh. The last hour already forgotten.

"Mr. Castle? I can get you over here to schedule your next visit," Angela, the secretary, calls him over.

"Right. Yes, sorry," he replies. He reaches the desk and Angela turns her computer screen to him.

"We have an eleven o'clock or two o'clock next Thursday open!"

Next Thursday?

Oh right. They have five more weeks of this.

He doesn't think he can do it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This chapter is in recognition of Disability Pride Month. The disabled community is still so marginalized despite so many amazing wins and gains in even my lifetime. I hope through telling Nemo's story, I can bring some of that to life while also showing someone with a disability living a full and wonderful life. While I personally don't have CP, I try to do as much research as I can to get the facts as correct as possible. I hope you all will give me the benefit of the doubt if I get something wrong.

Anyway, thanks for reading! And, as always, my inbox is open for comments, questions, or suggestions.