"Mommy?"
Kate's awake before she can understand she's awake, where or how, the darkness easing into a grey blur and then the soft whisper of her son in her ear.
"Mommy?"
She turns her head, feeling hot and damp and sticky and heavy, winces as her neck twists against the pillow. Dashiell leans in on the mattress, his face close to hers.
"Yeah, baby?" Her brain is still swimming, lurching out of sleep.
"We're gonna miss church."
She closes her eyes, lays there for a moment, then realizes that it's Castle lying half on top of her, the dream, the early hour half-light, the boy beside her, awake and confused, or confusing. Not sure which.
"Baby, West Park is in New York."
"But. It's Sunday, right, Mommy?" His lips are nearly at her ear, one of his hands in her hair, twirling.
"Yeah, buddy," she whispers and lets her hand drift towards him, caressing his cheek. "But our church is at home."
"Does God go on vacation too?"
Kate opens her eyes to see the heightened anxiety crawling on his face. She brushes her thumb over his cheek and he ducks to avoid her, his hands in fists in the sheet.
"Well, no, God doesn't take a break from us. Remember the story about Elijah?"
"He makes fun of the other wizards and says their gods are on vacation."
"Yeah, and who is never on vacation?"
"My God."
She grins in the darkness at the childish pride in his voice. "But, yeah, buddy, God's here too. God is everywhere, remember? I'm sure there's church here on our vacation." A minute ago, church was the last place Kate wanted to be, but the idea is suddenly infinitely appealing. Dash is mesmerized by the whole production at West Park, and they have a kids' worship that he goes to by himself, walking back down the hallway so pleased to be a big kid. And Ella, of course, is a sweet little thing in church, snuggling close and falling asleep in her lap. Kate likes to comb her fingers through her daughter's thick hair, brush her hands over the girl's cheek.
Plus, Kate's had this love/hate relationship with God lately. She thinks a chance to sit with her kids and let the hymns wash over her, feel the prayers staircase up, half-listen to a sermon about being a better person. . .that might be good after last night. She needs something to anchor her again.
"Mommy, I want-"
"Yeah, we will. We'll find church. But baby, it's very early." She reaches for her phone on the bedside table, sees she's gotten a text from Alexis, and checks the time. "It's only four. Church will be at nine or ten, okay? So go back to your room and watch tv until me or Daddy comes to get you."
Dash sighs and looks at her longingly, his fingers reaching her scalp and smoothing down to her ear, his hand all tangled in her hair. "Can I crawl in with you, Mommy?"
"What's wrong, baby?" Kate can't even lift up from the bed; Castle legs are thrown over hers, his chest half on top of hers, an arm around her middle.
"I want to do it how it's supposed to go on Sunday."
She swallows down a sigh and pats the space next to her. "We will do it as much as possible like it's supposed to. But you have to be flexible, Dash. Come on up here for awhile."
Dashiell hoists himself up, his hand pulling a little on her hair, and wriggles under Castle's arm so that he can curl up right at her side, his face against her shoulder. Kate puts her arm around him even though the temperature in their bed has practically doubled. Sweat curls down the curve of her rib and is absorbed by her shirt.
Dash sighs again, loudly, and Kate rubs her hand down his back. "Baby, church here won't be like church at home. They might not have children's worship, or sing the same songs we do. It will look different."
"But God is there?"
"God is there," she says, and the funny thing is, she even believes it herself. Her father started taking Dash to services at West Park, Dash's preschool, and then Dash wanted them all to go, meet his friends, sit with him in the wooden pew. It just. . .got to be a habit. Now Kate actually looks forward to it, when they go, when *she* can go, and well. . .now Dashiell needs it as part of his routine.
"But not Papa."
"No. Papa is back in New York."
"Why didn't Papa come with us?"
"He was working on that fishing project. But he gave me and Daddy your birthday present."
Dash's head pops up in the dim light, his dark eyes and smile on her. "He did?"
"He did. So did Grams."
"Oh. What about my Issis?"
Kate grins to herself. "Alexis is coming here for your birthday. She just texted me. Want to read it?"
"Yes, yes!" Dash scrambles up and Kate reaches for her phone again. She gets back to the text and scans it quickly before showing it to her son.
"Can you read that?"
"Mmm. . .I. . ."
"I'm. I am."
"I'm. . .go-?" He peers back at her.
"Well, it's going. I'm going."
"I'm going to. . .to. . .oh that's the one on the computer, Mommy?"
"Skype."
"Yeah! I'm going to skype. . .the. . .kuh - kuh - kids! Kids!"
"You got it. Alexis says she's going to skype with you guys. When? That last word."
Dash grabs the phone from her and holds it down at his chest, blowing out his breath as he concentrates, his tongue sticking out. Kate rubs his back with a hand, closing her eyes as she listens to him muddle through the last word.
"Ton. . .ton. . .ton. . ."
She lifts her head, reaches around her son to put a thumb over the last half of the word.
"To," he says, confidently.
She angles her thumb a different way, blocking the 'to' from his view.
"Night!"
"Put it together."
"Uh."
"To," she prompts, juggling her phone to shift her thumb over the word.
"To. . .night. To the night?"
"No 'the', just to night."
"Tonight!"
"Yeah, you got it. Good reading. Alexis is going to skype the kids tonight."
"That means she's gonna see-call us?"
"See-call, right. On the computer. Video chat." Kate puts her phone back and nudges at his shoulder blade. "You okay to head back to your room? Mommy needs some sleep, even if Dash doesn't."
He turns around and crawls up over Castle's arm, practically sitting on her chest, then leans in to kiss her cheek. "I love you, Mommy."
She swallows hard past the lump of silly, sudden tears, wraps her arm around him. "I love you more, wild man."
Dashiell slithers off the bed and runs to the door, hanging on to the knob as he opens it. He turns around and gives her a beaming smile, all sunshine and light. "You sleep, Mommy."
"I will, baby. Night."
"Morning," he giggles, and slams the door after him.
Castle jerks, his arm curling reflexively around her. Kate uses the moment to push on his shoulder.
"Get off me, Castle. Not your teddy bear," she murmurs, brushing her mouth against the skin she can reach, softening her words. He shivers at the contact and rolls onto his back, taking his heat with him. She plucks her shirt from her stomach and fans it, trying to stop sweating.
"You 'kay?" he mutters.
"Dash woke me."
"Ah." He clears his throat but says nothing more.
"We're gonna have to find a church." She lifts her head and brushes a hand through her hair, trying to untangle it, get the heavy locks off her neck, cool off.
"Damn."
"Not the right idea there, Castle. Trying to avoid damnation."
He laughs and opens an eye, looks at her. "All right. Time's it?"
"Four."
"Shiiiiip. That kid-"
"Ship? Nice one. Personally, I like it when you say 'sugar jets' instead." She turns her head and grins at him. He does her the favor of sticking out his tongue.
"At least I don't curse."
"I don't curse." She curls her hair up and flops back on her pillow. "Most of the time. Only when you get me. . .off kilter."
"When I sex you up," he says, and she can hear the grin in his voice.
"Hush."
"Where's Dash now?"
"He went back to his room," she says and rolls onto her side, scooting back to find cooler sheets. Castle licks his lips and glances over at her.
"Ya think you'll wake up at six again, like yesterday?"
She shakes her head. "No, but I'll be up by eight."
"'Kay. Wake me and I'll google a church for Dash. I guess we all gotta go."
"Course." Kate reaches out a hand and brushes her fingers over the soft skin of his inside elbow. He curls his arm, trapping her fingers, gives her a sleepy, sexy smile.
"I should probably go to church anyway, say thanks for all my blessings."
She gives him a questioning smile.
"You know. Breaking a record and everything?"
She rolls her eyes and slides her leg over to his side, her knee up. His hand comes back down to curl around the back of her knee, rubs his thumb back and forth suggestively.
"Go to sleep, Castle."
"You first, Kate."
Castle watches Ella coloring neatly in the floor in between the pews, her coloring book propped up on the bench seat and her tongue out as she concentrates. She yawns every now and then, and Castle is pretty sure she'll curl up in her mother's lap once the preaching starts. Kate is on her other side, her hand out so that Ellery can take a crayon from her palm, one at a time, and they won't roll back.
They've already made the classic mistake of putting the good kid in between them and leaving the rowdy one on the outside, near the aisle, but Castle isn't going to shift down and put both kids side by side. That might start a silent, furious war that would soon escalate into louder skirmishing. Dash likes to be the center of Ella's attention, and Ella likes to color without her big brother's interrupting.
Kate glances over at him, eyebrow raised, and he minds the kid again, looking back to his son. Dashiell is standing up, halfway in the aisle, clapping along to the song. A few other people, mostly those down front, are halfway in the aisles as well, hands raised or clapping, so Dash doesn't stand out.
Castle has never seen church like this. West Park isn't quite so. . .progressive. The clapping and moving around in the pews, the aisles half-filled with people worshipping as the band - the house band? - goes into long, pretty awesome guitar or drum solos. Dash is loving it, jumping around, singing to songs he doesn't even know, making up words or just singing "God" over and over.
It's not the serene experience that Kate usually likes, but even she doesn't look too put out. In fact, casting a quick look over at her, she seems to be rather amused.
Ellery taps his leg and he leans down to hear her over the wailing fiddle. Yeah, a *fiddle.*
Of course, she just looks up at him like he's crazy, hands him the red crayon. Of course she's not going to be saying anything, is she? His mistake.
He takes her red crayon, then notices that she's colored it to a nub. He peels the paper off the side and hands it back, shoving the crayon paper into her bag. Kate flicks a finger towards Dash, and Castle turns in time to see Dashiell jumping up and down, his hands raised.
His kid is turning into a mini holy-roller.
He cracks a grin and looks back at Kate; she's shaking her head, but her smile is wide and pleased. She leans in towards Castle, her arm over the back of the pew, her fingers on his shoulder. He bends down and her lips touch his ear.
"This is what happens when you live by the beach all your life," she murmurs, her voice holding in a laugh.
"Or this is just how community church does it," he says back, lifting his eyebrows.
"Dash loves it."
"Yeah, he's really working it." Castle leans forward to snag the back of Dashiell's shirt, just in time to keep him from bounce-crashing into the woman in front of him. The woman probably wouldn't have even noticed.
The worship leader yells out "Hallelujah!" and the church responds with "Amen!" Dashiell gets into it, yelling back with the rest of them, fist pumping the air. His bright and wide and delighted face turns back to his father each time, as if saying I get to yell in church!
Then the leader calls out, "God is good!" and the church responds, "All the time!" Dashiell seems to like this one even more, and he bounces back towards them, squirming into the pew and stumbling past Ellery.
"Don't step on your sister," Castle warns him, a hand out in case he falls.
"Mommy! Say it! All the time!" Dashiell yells, turning back to the front just in time to fist pump again. A couple kids nearby have started taking up the fist pump as well, looking back at Dashiell with something like awe and adoration. Dash has a way of making all the kids - older or younger - want to follow him. Kate says it's the Castle in him.
Kate rolls her eyes over at Castle, but she joins in as Dashiell demands, not yelling, but Castle can hear her voice anyway, cutting through the others. Something about being a detective and a cop maybe. Her voice carries.
Or she's always the voice he hears. One of the two.
After a few more rounds of call and response, the leader gives over to the preacher, who looks about as pleased as Dashiell, and rubs his hands together, claps them a few times as if working himself up for it.
Castle pulls Dash back to the seat and settles in for a long sermon, and a difficult time of restraining and keeping quiet a kid that wants only to fist pump and dance in the aisles.
Still. Could be interesting.
"Friends," the preacher begins. "Let us all bow our heads and pray a blessing."
Castle sighs, puts his hand at the back of Dash's neck and pushes his head forward as the kid wriggles. They both bow for the prayer, and Castle feels a strange sensation.
Kate's hand, reaching for his, her palm up on his lap. He stares at it for a second, then takes her hand, so light and thin in his wider one. His heart flips a little when she laces her fingers through his.
He takes a quick peek at her, watches her face in the morning light coming in through the windows. She looks a hundred times better now than she did last night, frightened and sick and still in the grips of her nightmare, needing him. He doesn't like to see that Kate, that dependent Kate. It's not right.
He closes his eyes to hold in, instead, this image of her beside him, serene and collected and enjoying herself.
And then he offers up a little prayer of his own, somewhere in the middle of the emphatic and strident prayer of the preacher, a plea to whatever it is up there that Dash seems to see so clearly, that Kate wrestles with, a plea that his wife will finally exorcise her demons.
Please, God.