Day to Day

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"Our killer's a zombie!" Castle declared as he stepped out of the door. Once he was out of sight and my gawking was finished, I rolled my eyes. Ryan seemed to be too easily swayed by him and looked as though he wasn't declaring this an impossibility. Espo and I, however, had zero faith in this. I followed him out and watched as he sat beside my desk victoriously. By the time I got to my desk, he'd taken on a playful look, raising one eyebrow and smiling wildly.

I glared at him but had to fight the urge to smile. Even though I hated the way he constantly tormented us with his wild theories, he looked absolutely adorable with this much excitement on his lips and in his dazzling blue eyes. Finally he won and a grin broke over my lips. "You know it's not a zombie, right? It's got to be a guy in a costume and makeup."

"Who doesn't react when he's moments away from being smashed by a car?" Castle asked.

A tight grin came to rest on my face as I crossed my arms. "So you actually thing a zombie did this?"

"No," Castle answered, "I think a man rose from the dead and did this. Whether he's actually a zombie depends on what animated him. For all we know, he could be more like Frankenstein's monster."

I shook my head at him and he smiled at me. My eyes then traveled down to the picture of Brayden sitting on my desk. Rick and I had debated over which to bring in, but eventually he gave in and I got my way in keeping the picture of him in his diaper paying on the blanket my Aunt Theresa made for him. He was adorable, eyes opened and smiling brightly. Rick preferred the image of him wearing only a teddy bear that he was hugging tightly to him and covering the majority of his body. It was cute, but his eyes were closed and he wasn't really smiling. I won.

I didn't even sit down before I realized what time it was. Lunch. Rick took seconds to follow my lead toward the elevator and we took it down two floors. There, we headed straight for the day care and signed in. Brayden was in my arms before Castle could even make it through the door. "Hi, baby. Hi," I cooed at him, his eyes staring into mine, already loosing the hazel color to an odd half blue half green that would soon be nearly the same as his father. "Oh, buddy, mommy missed you."

He was clearly very hungry and I didn't want to bottle feed him if I had a chance so I sat down and nursed him. Rick sat beside me and just simply watched Brayden the same way I did. I hated being away from him and bathed in the feeling of his soft skin against my arms. Holding him, being able to see him, knowing that he was alright was absolutely fabulous. I loved every minute I got with him whether he was crying or not. Since I'd gotten back to work, I didn't mind waking up with him at night. I didn't mind having to sooth him no matter how fussy he was most week nights. Weekends were a different story, but... Yeah...

After I finished burping Brayden, Castle took him from me and, as much as I hated it, I had to go back upstairs and get back to work. It seemed pointless though. There were no leads and all I really accomplished was staring at a board. Castle came up a short while after I did with a smile.

Watching him walk toward me, still hobbling a bit but not having to use the cane was a bitter sweet sight every time I saw it. I could still hear every word of the conversation with Rick's doctor.

"Mr. Castle, I'm terribly sorry, but you're going to have to stop tickling your son for a moment while I finish my check up," the doctor requested. Rick stopped and smiled up at his doctor and began to comply with every demand he had. He flexed and twisted his hand and leg about, walked around a bit and did a few rounds of feeling tests for both appendages. The doctor's face was so hard to read. I couldn't tell what was happening.

He then started asking Rick questions about his mobility. Eventually Castle light-heartedly asked, "So, doc, what's the prognosis?

He looked at Rick and without even opening his mouth, I knew it wasn't good. "Mr. Castle, you don't seem to have made any progress in healing in your leg for the last three weeks. I'm concerned that you might have gotten as far in your healing as you're going to get."

"I thought you said he'd be back to normal- that- that he could walk without a limp again," I argued immediately.

He answered, "Theoretically, he should have been able to, but the progression in his normalizing walk has plateaued. I can't guarantee that it will get any better. In fact, the odds of it getting much better are slim to none."

Castle went silent. I went silent. Even boucing B in my arms softly didn't sooth me. Rick staired at me but I didn't dare look at him. I looked at the doctor. I stared him down as he watched my husband's chart. "You've got to be kidding me," I whispered loudly.

The doctor looked up at me with a guise of condolence, but his eyes weren't presently emotional at all. "I'm sorry, there's nothing else I can do."

"Bull shit!" I hollered.

"Kate," Rick warned.

I didn't listen. "No, Castle, we're not giving up. You aren't going to give up! You defused a fucking bomb for this city. You're not going to let some stupid car crash cripple you!"

He screamed over me, "Kate! You're going to wake Brayden up!"

"I don't care!" I screamed back, but made the mistake of looking into his eyes this time. I stopped. I was silenced. In his gaze, I could see what I was doing. I could see how much my anger was breaking his heart. I was doing more damage than good and I knew he didn't need that. He needed me to be silent and to support him, so I did what I had to. I bit back on my anger, sat back down and continued to comfort our son, remaining silent.

Rick calmly coughed to break the tension and looked to his doctor for answers. "What about my hand?"

"The feeling in your hand is actually coming along much better than we could have hoped. You seem to have nearly full range in your fingers and wrist. Your fingers have relatively perfect feeling and other than your scars, your hand is basically back to normal. And you're still healing. You could have zero repercussions in your hand."

In my head, I scoffed. That didn't help anything. He needed feeling in his hand much less than he needed to be able to walk. Still, I didn't say a word. I just listened to the small discussion Rick had with the doctor about how his head was still fine and how the scarring had greatly been reduced. When the doctor walked out to get some paperwork, Rick finally talked to me. "It could be worse, Kate."

This time, my scoff surfaced. "How?"

"I could be dead," he stated in a stern tone. "You could be dead. Brayden could be dead."

"Castle, you know what I meant. You need your leg. Gates won't let you back at the precinct with a limp and to be honest, I wouldn't want you there putting yourself in harm's way with a limp either."

"I can still write, Kate. I can still function. I'm not brain damaged or brain dead. I can still hold my son. I can still... function. I'm not... I haven't... I'm just saying this could be worse," He correctly insisted.

I answered, "Castle, I get that, but- you have to admit that this sucks."

He laughed, "Yes, but- you and I both know that this could have been worse."

"You're not giving up. I won't let you."

"I'm not," he promised.

Nearly the moment her did, the doctor walked in and that was the end of that. Like he said, he could still write, which was all he did anymore every night. Before he joined me in bed, he wrote for at least an hour with Brayden sleeping on his chest. Everytime I thought back to that conversation, all I could really think about since then was the lack of intamacy in our relationship since the accident. We cuddled at the start, but more resently, I was lucky if he looked at me while I was changing. This was getting to be ridiculous and I loved him more than anything but his chaste indifference of me was terrifying me. I- I didn't know that he'd ever get over it and- it was getting worse and worse.

But the only thing that made it worse was the day my mother's case came back into play.

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Duh duh DUH!!!! ;) :P

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