28. TwentyEight: Saturday

Twenty-Eight

He tiptoes into the loft at exactly 4:23 am, expecting darkness and silence; silence he does get, but he's surprised to find that the light next to the couch is on, even more surprised to find his daughter curled up in an armchair.

"Alexis," he says, his voice echoing strangely in the quiet space. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Hey, Dad," she greets with a tired smile, stretching like a cat as she closes the novel on her lap. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd come down here with a book. You doing the walk of shame? Aren't you a little old for that?"

He narrows his eyes at her as he plops himself down on the couch, toes his shoes off. Ohh, yeah. Feels good. "Watch your words, young lady," he warns teasingly.

Alexis presses her lips together, smile still shining through in a way that reminds him sharply of Kate. Then again, many things remind him of Kate. "You know," his daughter says hesitantly, her voice more careful, "you could have stayed there. I mean, it's not like I don't know what you guys are doing, so..." She gives a little shrug. "It makes no sense for you to wake up in the middle of the night just so you're here in the morning. You don't...have to, Dad."

He watches her for a moment, his beautiful daughter, her red hair glowing softly in the gentle light, her eyes a little apprehensive as she studies him back.

"Good to know I have your permission," he finally chooses to say, smirking.

Alexis rolls her eyes, but he thinks she's blushing. "I'm just saying-" she starts, but he cuts her off.

"I know what you're saying, Alexis. And I'm not here because I have to - but because I want to." He thinks that his little girl sometimes needs to hear this, even when she looks so grown-up that his chest bursts with pride every time his eyes land on her.

She smiles at him, a cute, cheeky thing that reminds him of the eight-year-old she once was.

"Even if it means leaving Kate alone?"

Ohh, someone's feeling bold tonight. He hikes a foot onto the coffee table, his eyes still on his daughter's, and realizes that he's smiling. Ah, well.

"Especially if it means leaving Kate alone," he answers, more truthfully than maybe the question called for. "She's a pretty independent person, you know. Well, yeah, you do know. And she's been...amazing about this. I honestly can't believe the amount of time she's been spending with me. Without complaining. So-" he pauses, tries to find the words. "Even if she's not asking for space? I want to make sure I'm anticipating her needs. That I'm not...putting too much pressure on her."

"You think waking up alone is what she needs?"

He gapes at his daughter, stunned by her reaction, even though he can tell that Alexis isn't trying to upset him, or questioning his decision. She's just - asking.

"I..." Ah, should he even be discussing this? He and Alexis tell each other a lot, but he feels like maybe some aspects of his relationship with Kate should remain...private.

And yes, that too.

"I don't know, Alexis," he finally answers. "Maybe, yes. Gives her time to figure things out by herself."

There's a long silence, and he can tell she's pondering his answer, playing with the long braid that she often wears to bed. He waits on her, content to be sprawled on the couch, a little light-headed but not ready to sleep quite yet.

Which reminds him.

"What's keeping you awake?" he asks softly, nudging his daughter's calf with his foot. She shivers, draws her knees up to her chin as she shifts a little, turns towards him. She half-shrugs, tilts her head.

"Just, you know. Thinking about things."

Alexis's never been very good at evasion. As a father, he's incredibly grateful for that.

"What kind of things?" he pushes.

She worries her lip for a second, but she offers him an honest answer. "Endings and beginnings. I just feel, you know, like I'm in the middle of this...transition space, where high school is over and college hasn't started yet, and I-" she sighs. "I'm not sure what to do with myself."

Castle doesn't say anything, keeps a respectful silence because he can tell there is more to come.

"I feel... adrift," Alexis says with a wistful little smile. "Floating. I really - I really don't like in-betweens, Dad."

He pushes himself off the back of the couch, leans forward with his elbows on his knees until he can lay a reassuring hand on his daughter's leg.

"I know. But try to look at it this way: this is the only time when you don't have to do anything, for anyone else. No essays to write, no homework to do, nothing to prepare for - trust me, once you're in college and your life is a whirlwind of classes and parties and exams, you'll look back to this moment, here and now, when you only had yourself to worry about, and you'll long for it."

Alexis scrunches her nose, clearly not convinced. "I don't know, Dad. I do better when things are expected of me. When I'm told what to do. This just feels...wrong."

He laughs then, can't help it, can't help seeing the parallels between his daughter and Beckett. Kate. Kate who seems to be handling it so well, the brutal shift in her life, the obscene amount of time her resignation has given her.

He wonders.

"Well then," he tells Alexis, "find yourself something to do. Set yourself a goal for the summer, anything. Learn Spanish, or - how to play the guitar, I don't know, write a novel-"

"Right," she snickers disbelievingly, and he splays his palm on her knee, squeezes for her attention.

"I'm serious. This is your time, Alexis. You can do what you want with it. Put it to good use."

She stares at him, and he can see the idea make its slow way through her. Then she sighs, looks away, and he squeezes once more.

"What?"

"I just wish..." she bites the inside of her cheek, shakes her head, but it's too late - she knows he will make her finish her sentence if she doesn't on her own. "I wish everything didn't have to change. I wish I could have an anchor, something in my life that would stay the same through high school and college, you know?"

She lifts her eyes to him and he arches an eyebrow at her, tries to keep himself from saying, Isn't that my job?

She gets it anyway, laughs a little as she pushes at his feet on the coffee table. "I mean, besides you, Dad. You've always been my constant. I want...something of mine. Something that...I would have made for myself."

He presses his lips together, weighs his next question. She can handle it, he decides. "Do you miss Ashley?"

Alexis lets out a long exhale, considering. "I don't - maybe it's not Ash, exactly? More like, the idea of him." She gives him a sideways look, almost shy. "I think it's because I've seen you and Kate together so much, and you just seem...so happy. So maybe - maybe I'm a little jealous."

She says the last words as fast as she can, avoiding his eyes all along. He straightens, not sure what to say to that, and she adds quickly, as if to justify herself, "I'm not jealous of the time you spend with her, Dad. I'm - I'm good with that. More than good. I'm just, I guess...envious of what you guys have."

Oh. Oh?

"And I know," she goes on, "I know I haven't been the most supportive person, and I'm - I'm really sorry, Dad - but I thought it was never going to happen, and I didn't want you getting hurt right as I'm leaving-"

"To be honest," he chuckles, "I kinda thought it was never going to happen, too."

Sorrow flashes in his daughter's eyes, and he instantly regrets his words. That's stuff he should keep to himself. Alexis doesn't need to hear about how close it all was.

How it could have been a uniform at his door instead of Kate-

"Hey. We're good now, Pumpkin. It's all that matters. Oh, you know what?" Yeah, this he can tell her. His daughter's eyes rest on him, curious, so very blue. "The other day, I took Kate to Remy's, and uh - Ryan was there."

"Yeah?" Alexis's lips curl into a smile; he knows she likes Ryan, although she hasn't seen a lot of him. "Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he seemed fine. Anyway. He asked - ah, I can't remember how exactly it came about - but he ended up asking about us, you know, and I was there petrified, wondering what to say..."

"Unusual situation for you," his daughter throws in laughingly.

"Yes, it was. Thank you for pointing it out. Anyway, Kate answered before I could, and she told him that-" his voice breaks a little, joy overcoming him, spilling everywhere at the memory "- she told him we were together. For good."

Ah, he's such a girl. Such a girl. But it doesn't matter, because Alexis knows him, knows the real him, and she's throwing her arms around him and hugging, hugging, hugging. He closes his eyes, happiness swelling inside him.

"Oh, Dad. That's amazing."

"I know, right?" he whispers back, utterly delighted. Alexis understands him.

"I'm so happy for you. For the two of you."

He holds her firmly to his chest, and then decides that it's bedtime, attempts to lift himself off the couch with his daughter in his arms. Alexis shrieks, struggles, and they very nearly go to the floor together; but he catches himself on the armchair, manages to stay upright.

"Dad, put me down," she commands, laughing and breathless.

She's heavier than he remembers, but she's still a little lighter than Beckett; nothing he can't do. "Nope," he says, striding towards the stairs. "I'm putting you to bed."

"Dad, I'm eighteen," she opposes weakly, shoving on him.

He valiantly starts climbing up the stairs. "Age doesn't matter. You're still my little girl."

She heaves a long-suffering sigh, but she lets him carry her to her bedroom, lay her down on the bed, pull the covers up to her chin.

And when he brushes a kiss to her forehead, wishes her goodnight, she catches his wrist to keep him there a little longer. "You know," she murmurs in the dark, "I don't think my dad is the person I'm gonna miss the most when I'm at college."

His heart clenches in disappointment, but he forces it out of his voice. "No?" he manages to breathe out innocently.

"No," she answers. "I'm gonna miss my best friend most of all."

He gapes at her for a second, until, with a sharp pang, he realizes that she means him.