Chapter four
Beckett looked up at the convex mirror mounted in the corner of the hallway. The gouge on her cheek was almost completely healed; all that was left to remind her of her scuffle with Scarlett Price's minions was a small scratch and some light, yellowish bruising. She had hoped it would have been fully healed by now, though.
She had found excuses for her father to not visit her over the past two weeks - a not entirely true outbreak of the flu among the inmates, which she did not wish to pass along to her father or anyone else he may come in contact with (especially Theo) being the most believable one - but each time she had called home, he sounded less and less convinced by her story (not to mention more and more concerned by her emotional wellbeing). She understood why he'd be concerned; she didn't have the energy to mask her dejected tone or to be an enthusiastic participant in their stilted, overly-forced conversations. She only called to make sure her father was alright, to check in on Theo, and to hear the much-needed reassurances from Alexis and Martha that they weren't in over their heads with all of this. Not that it mattered, though, right? What exactly could she do if they were? Still, hearing the women excitedly tell her about their days did help... a little.
Jim had informed her - not asked, informed - that he would be visiting today. And he would be bringing everyone with him.
"You need your family, Katie," he had said to her the other night on the phone.
She could hear his worry so evident in his voice. He thought that she was withdrawing because she was struggling to come to terms with her reality but, in all honesty, she had fully accepted those terms - she just didn't want her father to know the full extent of them. He already worried too much. He didn't need to see her bruised and battered; didn't need to see all of his worst fears be confirmed.
"There you are," Ronnie said as she walked up to Beckett, smiling at her through the slightly distorted reflection in the mirror. "You gussying up for the big visit?" she asked excitedly.
"Something like that," Beckett replied.
She hated the monotony of her own voice; the complete and utter lack of emotion in her words. Ronnie never judged her, though.
She stepped in front of Beckett, placed her hand on her forearm. "Hey. Are you okay?"
Beckett tore her eyes away from her reflection and looked at her only friend. "Fine. Why?"
"You're meeting your son today. I figured you'd already be lined up, waiting to be taken in." Ronnie waited for some sort of explanation, but Beckett stayed silent. "You aren't excited?"
But Beckett didn't know how she felt. Nauseous, mostly. It had been two months - two agonisingly long months - since she had given birth. There was nothing she wanted more than to meet her son, to hold him, to know him. But she couldn't fight that part of her that didn't want him to know her. Not this broken version of her, anyway.
"Eventually he is going to remember these visits," she said quietly. "He's going to actually understand that his parents are-"
She couldn't finish her sentence.
Would Theo believe in their innocence when he was old enough to decide for himself? Or would he despise them for the circumstances that led to his unconventional childhood?
But that wasn't even her biggest concern for today. Her biggest concern was her father. The last few times they had spoken he seemed... different. Exhausted, defeated, stressed. She had asked him, several times, how he was coping with everything that had transpired but he always managed to artfully avoid giving her an answer. Which, she supposed, was an answer in itself. He wasn't coping. And when he saw her today - and her frustratingly so-close-to-being-healed-but-not-quite-there face - he'd have one more concern to add to his list, to internalise and mull over incessantly.
"It's going to be fine," Ronnie assured her. She curled her arm around Beckett's and started to lead her toward the visitor's room. "Now, come on. I'm excited to see my baby and I know, deep down, you're excited, too!"
From the moment she was escorted into the visitor's room, Kate felt completely overwhelmed.
She watched, eyes brimming with tears, as Alexis held Theo. His back was to her chest, so that he was sitting up, and the girl grabbed his tiny little hand and helped him wave to his mother. He obviously had no idea what was going on - he wasn't even looking in Kate's direction - still, Kate was able to tell herself that he had missed her almost as much as she had missed him.
Until that thought had guilt spearing through her like a sword.
Her tears spilled freely as she moved closer, her eyes glued to her son.
"Katie," Jim said, sighing. His hand touched his daughters cheek as he inspected her injury.
"I'm fine, dad," she insisted without so much as a glance in the man's direction. If she looked him in the eye, focused on anything other than how precious her son was, her father would spot her lie.
Alexis shifted her brother in her arms, readying herself to pass him over to Kate.
Kate's hands trembled as she reached out for him, took him into her arms. She sat down, tucked Theo's legs against her torso and cradled his head in her hand so that he was looking up at her with his bright blue eyes. With her free hand, she combed her fingers through the short fluff of brown hair atop his head.
"Hey, Theo," she cooed.
In her periphery, she could see her three other visitors take their seats around the table, watching the infant with fond smiles on their faces. Kate knew that she should probably acknowledge their presence, but they didn't seem to mind being all but forgotten for the time being.
She curled her index finger and gently trailed her knuckle down Theo's soft, rounded cheek. He wriggled and cooed in response to her touch.
"Hey, Baby," she sung, choking on the emotion rushed over her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked away her tears. "I'm your mom," she told him, a watery whisper.
As the boy squirmed in her lap, his lips morphed from a perfect o-shape to a wide, gummy smile.
The chorus of amused sounds came from the table around her and Kate forced herself to look away from the smiling boy in her arms, and up to her family.
"What?" she asked, noting her mother-in-law's tearful smile.
"He's never smiled like that before," Martha told her without hesitation, her own smile doubling in size.
"A few little smirks," Alexis added. "But nothing like that."
Kate looked back down at Theo; bright blue eyes stared back at her, captivated by her.
She smiled. "They're just saying that," she said to her son, shaking her head.
Trying to make her feel better, she assumed.
It was working.
Then Theo kicked his legs, flapped his arms around and smiled again.
"They're not," Jim assured her.
Kate looked at her father, saw the truth shimmering in his eyes.
"I think he recognises your voice," he added.
She didn't want to let herself hope that it was true but, when Theo began to coo, she thought that maybe it could be. Maybe, if she just allowed herself to believe it to be true, Theo knew who she was, even after all these weeks.
In this moment, all of her fears had seemed to foolish. Just like they had been, all those years ago, with his father. She had thought she needed to fix herself before she could be with Castle but having him by her side during that year had healed her heart better than any amount of therapy could. Just like then, she hadn't wanted all of her broken parts to ruin someone she loved so dearly, but now it was so clear to her: just like his father, Theo could be the one to help her heal.
Kate shifted and brought the infant to her chest, rocked slowly as he nuzzled into her. Her heart ballooned in her chest, filled with warmth, and she pressed her lips to the top of her boy's head. She didn't bother to stop the tears that escaped as she held him and slowly rocked him to sleep.
It felt right to hold him in her arms. Despite everything else - where they were, what she'd been accused of doing, the things she might have to do in order to survive this place - holding her son would hold all the broken pieces of her together.
She knew that, with him and with their family, she'd get through this.
They all would.
Kate took a deep, somewhat shaky breath and turned her attention to her family.
"Can you tell me about his visit with Rick?"