Kapitel 53: 53. Chapter 53
"Are we having this conversation?" he asks, carrying Dash down the hallway of the condominium and talking to the back of Kate's head.
"Later," she hisses.
He bares his teeth at her (because she can't see him) and keeps at it. "Seriously, Kate. Are you really thinking-"
"Castle. Let me first *not* be lugging around thirty pounds of almost-three year old, and then we can talk."
He pauses behind her while she fumbles with the door. "Actually, Ella weighs 27 pounds, but you missed her last check up-"
"Castle," she growls, her eyes flashing in the darkness.
He's making a point. She gets it; he can see that. But maybe it will temper the conversation she seems to want to have with him. She missed the baby's doctor's appointment last time, as well as Dashiell's karate demonstration two weeks ago, as well as this charity event she *made* him sign on to fundraise for, and seriously? Seriously, Kate?
She wants to talk about having more kids when she can't even make it to-
He's not bitter. No, he realizes it sounds like he's bitter or frustrated, but he's not.
Does it still sound like he is?
No. Truly, it's not that important. A karate demonstration was missed, yes, but when Kate got home early that day, in time for the kids' dinner, Dash still had on his karategi and was perfectly willing to do an at-home demonstration. Dash's face when he showed off his green belt with its one white stripe was priceless, and Kate didn't miss a thing.
And so what if she doesn't make it to every doctor's appointment? - neither does he. Sometimes she takes the kid, sometimes he does; it's whoever's schedule works out the best that day. When Dash got a light case of chicken pox (despite having the vaccination), Castle was out of town on his book tour. Kate was the one who stayed home with him, shipping Ellery off to her father's house just in case, and (apparently) cuddling up with him and watching Castle's space cowboy show.
Uh-huh. Shades of Temptation Lane. For boys.
He's not bitter. He just wants her to really think about this. Because his immediate answer?
Yeah, she knows his answer. He hasn't been vocal about it, but. . .
Well, maybe joking around with Dash, getting his son to ask for a little brother, maybe that wasn't entirely ethical, but it worked. (Still, Dash told him he doesn't want a little brother, he wants a little sister, because he said he likes sisters better, so maybe that idea wasn't so smart in the first place.)
Still. He wants her to think about this. With her head, not her all-too-mushy heart.
Kate Beckett - mushy? Well, no, Kate Beckett is not mushy.
But Kate Castle? Yes. Kate Castle is mushy.
"Castle, get in here," she calls quietly, a hint of steel in her voice.
He snaps back to reality (Eminem's 'Lose Yourself' is gonna be stuck in his head now, especially since that's on his running playlist - oh there goes gravity) and he moves into Dashiell's darkened room with the boy still passed out against his chest and the song on a loop in his brain.
Castle expects to be woken a few times tonight by kids with nightmares, but he's fully prepared to take on the maternal duty. His fault. Maternal? Ahh, slip of the tongue. Or mind. Something. Castle is feeling rather punchy himself. Tired but jazzed. Buzzing. Must be getting scared half out of his mind by ghost girl, with Kate's full and complete cooperation.
They're not into the kinky stuff, no, ug, no, and despite how hot it is when Kate gets bossy, he is not and never will be into dominatrix stuff, but that scare did something to him-
Think about that later.
Dash stirs as Castle lowers him to the bed, but his eyes don't open. He tugs off the kid's cowboy boots, brushes his hair back, checks around the collar of his shirt to make sure it won't strangle him in his sleep. The suspenders are twisted up in the back, somehow, but Castle manages to unwind them too, unclips them from the boy's pants.
And then, since Dashiell is still passed out, Castle goes ahead and unbuttons his shirt too, slides it off of him, and replaces it with his pajama top. He even has to tug the shirt down over his head, careful of the stitches, but Dashiell is like a rag doll, dead to the world.
Then off come the pants and socks, Castle wrinkling his nose at the smelly sweaty stink of the kid's feet after being jammed in those boots all night. Castle leaves him in (what else?) cowboy underwear and his striped pajama shirt, pulls the covers up over him.
He bends down and kisses Dash's cheek, but still, his son is heavy with sleep.
He feels Kate at his back, the touch of her fingertips at his ribs to let him know she's there, in the darkness at their son's bedside. She leans in as he straightens, takes her turn kissing Dashiell good night, her fingers feathering over the bandage still covering his stitches.
Castle reaches out, strokes his hand down the back of her arm in parting, heads through the connecting bathroom to Ellery's room. Some of the light from the condo's hallway spills in through her curtains; Castle adjusts them a little and turns back to the bunk beds.
Ella is a small lump under the sheets, dark hair on the pillow. Kate has dropped her clothes at the side of the bed just like he did Dash's costume. Neither kid has been bathed, but they can do that in the morning.
He kneels down at her bedside, leans in to feel her breath stir against his cheek. He strokes his thumb across her temple, pushing the hair out of her closed eyes, can't help the twist in his heart when he remembers holding her for the first time, the tiny little thing with the alien face and pointy head and thin fingers that curled up under her chin. The quiet, so that they almost never knew when she needed them. The amazing blue eyes. The way she seemed to be able to focus on his face and lock in, the two of them alone in the world.
"Good night, cricket," he murmurs and leans in to kiss her beautiful face.
Kate waits in the hallway until Castle slips silently out of Ellery's room. She can see his face, even in the darkness, and with the clarity of the last few days, in that look she knows his true heart, knows that the deepest part of him wants this, desires it, but he will never ask, never insist on it.
And this makes her love him more. She didn't even think it was possible to love him more and still-
"Rick."
He wraps his arms around her waist in a choking hug, squeezes and lifts her from her feet; she can feel him breathing her in, affected by the sweet, precious ritual of tucking their kids in at night. She hugs him back, gives in to his need for connection.
But he lets her go, steps back, waits on her to begin.
"Balcony," she directs, and heads for the living room and the sliding glass doors.
From behind her, Castle opens the balcony door before she can even touch it, nudges her over the threshold. She stands in the warm, open air of deep evening, hears the susurration of the ocean far below and so wide.
"So start, Kate."
Not like this, with him ready to do battle against her. Battle against himself, really. Battle against what he wants.
"Sit with me?" she asks, knowing that he can't refuse her requests.
Castle shifts on his feet then sighs and drops down into the lounge chair, moving over so she can curl up next to him. Their hips bump as she wriggles in, squeezed too tight, so she turns on her side and presses her cheek to his chest, drawing an arm around his ribs.
His hand settles on her thigh, tugs so that her knee comes up, giving them more room. She sighs, echoing his own, melting into him, the sounds of waves breaking in the dark night.
His other arm around her neck, he starts stroking his fingers up and down her shoulder, presses his lips to the top of her head.
This is nice. Good. And she doesn't want to talk anymore. She wants to rest.
He gives her this moment, a long moment, and she's grateful, knows it's payback for the moment she gave him in the hallway, which is why they work so well together. Which is why she has to start.
"When Dash went after those two women in line-"
"Hey, Kate. They're nothing. They don't know us. They have no idea-" The tension in his chest oddly pleases her; her two men coming to her defense.
She arches her neck and kisses the underside of his jaw, silencing him. "Not what I was going to say. But thanks. You and Dash, my protectors."
He grumbles a little, a sound that is mostly vibrations in his chest, traveling down into her bones. Lovely and awakening.
"And now, after you've been so sweet, I'm gonna ruin it," she laughs. "Did you hear what Dash called them? Old ladies. He thinks they're old. And Castle, they were your age."
"Hey now-"
She bites her bottom lip, grins against his chest. "They were. One of them looked only a few years older than me. And Dash called them old, with such derision in his voice-"
"So far, I don't like this conversation."
"I don't much like it either. I'm not that far behind you, old man."
Castle squeezes her neck in his elbow, pulling her close.
"But you're far from old, Castle. You know that. You're just a big kid-"
He sighs, but she slides her hand up his chest, covers his mouth with her fingers.
"That might have irritated the hell out of me in the beginning, and it still can, but mostly, it's good for us. For me, for our kids - Castle, you make it fun."
"Ah, that's not-"
"It is," she interrupts. "Ella had a blast in the maze, and Dashiell just about orbited the moon. You gave them that."
Kate stills, lost in it, forgetting the plan for a moment, remembering the way Dash's whole body radiated joy all night long.
"Kate. What is this about?"
He sounds confused. No wonder; she's talking in circles trying to get around this thing, a gyre. "I think that I. . .assumed we'd have a few years, three or four at least - I might have stretched it to five at times - and then, after that, we'd think about whether or not we needed another baby-"
His chest hitches, his arm tightens around her. She presses her fingers to the collar of his tshirt, organizing her thoughts. Or at least trying to.
"But I don't know that we have that time. And what if those three or four years catch up to us on the other side of things, Castle? You. . .or even me at the 12th, what if that's the three years we won't have to see. . .see the baby turn fifteen or get married or-"
"Kate," he croaks, and wraps both arms around her neck, tight and crushing. She pushes back, fights to breathe, but finds her nose against his armpit, settles there to let him have it, let him push through the thought of her being gone.
After a tense moment, he releases her, rubs his palm up and down her arm, soothing himself and her in the process.
"You won't die," he says, his voice ragged. "I'm not gonna die either-"
"Castle," she admonishes him. "I know better. And through me, you ought to know better as well."
"I refuse to believe it."
"Doesn't mean it won't happen. But my point is - and really, I'm thinking more about the fact that we're both, well, older than we used to be, Castle. And three years from now, I'm what? Almost forty. Do I want to have another baby at forty? Oh God, no."
He laughs, and she's glad she managed to get that out of him, but then she has to lay out the rest of her attack. "And Alexis."
"Alexis - what?"
"Castle, she's in love with this boy. This man. He's 27 years old, and she finishes her graduate work in May, and what if-"
"You're telling me they'll get married?"
She bites her bottom lip, strokes the skin at his throat. "I'm telling you that, and - they might start having kids pretty soon."
"Oh shit." She feels him swallow hard under her fingers.
"Or. What if she gets pregnant-?"
"That's not funny, Kate."
She lifts up, hand pressed against him for leverage, narrowing her eyes at him. "Want to rethink that last comment?"
He blinks, completely clueless. "No. I don't want my daughter getting pregnant when she's not even-" He stumbles to a stop, gives her a weak laugh. "Ah. Right."
She waits, lips pressed together, eyebrow raised, wishing serious bodily harm if he doesn't-
"Okay. Well, thinking about it like that. Might be the best thing that ever happens to her. Sure."
"Oh, that so doesn't cut it, Castle."
He grimaces. "What do you want from me? We were older and wiser. And - and you're not my daughter, you're my wife-"
"I'm still *someone's* daughter." She sits up. "And wiser?"
"No, okay. We weren't. Alexis is definitely more mature than either of us were about that. Okay, just - give me a second to get images of my daughter at Ellery's age out of my head and -"
He rubs a hand over his eyes, and Kate softens. Because, yeah, thinking about it like that makes her hackles rise as well - Ellery getting pregnant-
Kate growls and flops back down on his chest. "Forget it."
"No, no. I see what you mean. Okay. I'm there with you. And I apologize for insinuating. . .whatever I might have insinuated about either you or Dash. All right?"
"All right."
"So. I'm too old to live to see my baby get married, and Alexis has kids. Thanks. Now what else you want to hit me with?"
Kate huffs at him, but she knows she can't cover the amusement that his words cause. She slides her arm back around him because it's so much easier to talk to him when she doesn't have to see his face, see it all play out across his eyes, his expressive mouth.
"This is about me, not you. I just - I don't want to be having kids when I'm also getting grandkids. There's something just. . .so wrong about that, Castle."
She hears his laugh burst out through his chest, rumble around her, competing with the breaking-wave-laughter of the ocean, nature and her husband both amused by her.
"Shut up," she says, thumping his ear.
He sighs on a last, wheezing gasp, laughs again, squeezing her arm. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. I get that. Makes sense. However, I think it would be super cool if my grandkid was the same age as my kid. I mean-"
"Shut up," she says again. "Makes me feel very trophy-wife."
"Oh, hardly. Ha. If anything, I'm the trophy here. Total arm candy."
She can't help the grin that splits her face, try as she might to suppress it. "Mm, really. Arm candy. Well, you are quite-" She stops to run her fingernail over his abs. "-chiseled. Ruggedly handsome."
She feels his stomach muscles flutter at her touch, smiles to herself.
"You're evil. Ohhh, you're evil. Talking about me keeling over, then Alexis getting knocked up, and now you're trying to seduce me?"
"And it's working."
"Of course it's working."
She slides her hand under his shirt, splays it across his abs, dips her finger into his belly button, loves the jerk of his whole body in response to her touch.
"Get on with it," he growls.
"Oh, really?"
"Not that, jeez. Kate-"
She decides to put him out of his misery. "So it comes down to this, Castle. If you want more kids, let's do it now."
He lets out a little breathless laugh. "You're doing this on purpose. I know you. Because of course, all I can think about right now is having you. Getting you pregnant. Jeez. It's not even fair."
She grins, biting her bottom lip, but she answers his charge. "Just like you had Dash bring it up, just like you joked around about it? I know you too, Castle."
He's silent at that. Of course he did it on purpose. That's how he's been working her for the last few years now, slowly, just like a writer - building a theme through subtle messages here and there until the whole tone of their personal life takes on whatever subject he wants to broach, whatever choice he wants her to make.
So that when she reaches the end of that particular story, the conclusion is inevitable.
"And you accused me of arranging things behind your back," she murmurs, not really upset with him, not at all. Because they both do it, and they do it out of love.
"This was. . .a long-range plan, Kate. Not something I wanted to force you into now."
Ah, so he admits it. All right. "Your fault. You got me thinking about it. So. I told you what I think: now or never, Castle."
"Now or never? That's extreme."
"I told you why."
"Yeah, yeah. Death, grandkids. Got it."
She waits for him to say something, to jump in like he always does, gung-ho for the next grand adventure, but he doesn't. He just keeps one loose arm around around her shoulders, fingers light on her elbow, and draws his other hand down to her thigh again, resting there. No hurry.
This isn't right. She knows his answer - he wants more. He always wants more. She remembers when she was pregnant with Dashiell how he kept telling her it would be fine, it was all fine, because he was good with kids, he already acted like a kid, he wanted lots of kids and this was great.
Mm, he wants kids. So why isn't he saying anything?
"Castle."
"I'm good, Kate. I have everything I could ever need."
But want? Deep down, under what he thinks is the right thing to do, under what he thinks he's keeping her from, the core of him - untainted by whatever Meredith might have done, whatever scars Kate herself might have left on him - that man, what does he want when imagines their life?
He won't say it. And she can't honestly tell him that she wants to be pregnant all over again, so soon - not that it's so terrible, but just -
Kate sighs. He's a good man. He deserves-
"Sometimes I have this dream," she starts, because she doesn't know what else to say. "I'm lying in bed at my old apartment, half-asleep, and there's this weight on my chest. It's warm and sunny. It feels good."
His hand curls at her shoulder.
"It's warm, almost hot, and I open my eyes and it's - it's not Dash, or Ella, but it's a baby. Your baby, Castle, and it's a surprise. Somehow, I'm back in my apartment and you're nowhere around, and yet there's this little thing curled up on my chest like a gift. I think I spend most of the dream just, memorizing that little body, tracing my fingers over the round face." She sighs, remembering.
"Kate?"
"The funny thing is, this dream is one of those recurring ones. All. . .all my life, Castle. I think I had it - before we ever - before there was this."
"Before you and me?"
"I think I've had that dream for. . .a long time. So long that I don't know what came first - falling in love with your books or falling in love with that dream."
He's silent under her, and she doesn't know why she felt she needed to share that with him, only that when she wakes from that dream lately, it makes her feel good, like she's done one right thing with her life - despite messing up so much of their beginning, despite failing her mom.
"Kate, love, I want everything with you. Everything you want."
"What I want is for you to tell me, Castle," she says, and she knows she might break if he doesn't, if he refuses this. "Please tell me, just this once, tell me first what you want. I've been selfish. I arranged everything to get you back with me at the 12th, but I didn't even ask if you wanted to be there-"
"And so what? Another kid makes up for that? I'm back at home with the baby instead and you - what, Kate?"
She sucks in a breath. "No. I meant. Castle." She closes her eyes. This isn't going right. "Should I leave?"
His arm tightens as if he thinks she's going to get up. "Leave?"
"The NYPD," she whispers.
"No. No. Kate, no. That isn't - that isn't the discussion here. That's not even relevant-"
"Sure it is. The whole death thing." She tries to laugh it off, but it doesn't sound funny. She misses her mom. She doesn't want her kids missing her like she-
"No. Listen to me. This is - we've had this conversation. You know what I think. Let's not rehash all that. Being a detective doesn't exclude you from having kids. Final word, Kate."
She takes a deep breath, tries to dispel the negative air in her lungs, push it out. "If it's not that then. Please tell me. Tell me what you want us to do."
"It doesn't work like that, Kate-"
"It's not supposed to work like this either. We're partners. Together, not me getting my way just because you're willing to let it slide, because you're too good a man to push. I don't know the way, Castle. I don't know what's right. I need you to tell me what you honestly want here - what's your dream? What do you wake up with, still warm against your chest-"
"Yes," he says, as if dragged from him. "Yes."
Yes. What does-
"Sometimes I dream, too."
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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