Chill

The sound of crying wakes him up. He rolls over and sees the slim line of Kate's profile, still asleep. She needs the rest and he wonders how she managed to get any type of real sleep in when Al was a newborn. She always said she had help from her dad, but he doesn't think Jim stayed the night at her apartment just so his daughter could sleep for a few hours. He shifts slowly from the bed, turning the monitor off so it doesn't rouse her, and finds the pair of flannel pants he had tossed over the back of the loveseat against the wall.

The light from over the stove in the kitchen illuminates just enough of the floor for him to make it to the stairs without running into too many things – he thought that after years of living in the same place that he would know his way around the furniture. Apparently not.

Harper's door is cracked open, the twinkling lights from her mobile spread across the floor and the lavender walls. Castle nearly stubs his toe on the crib as he reaches over the rail. The infant is squirming, fists thrashing wildly and further twisting her pajamas around her body.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?" he asks quietly, tucking Harper against his chest. Her foot connects with his ribs as he paces the length of the room, bouncing the girl gently. "Ah-ah. No kicking, Harper," he says, holding onto his daughter's chubby leg and placing it back along his body.

The girl doesn't quiet. She's probably hungry, little fingers reaching for his hand, wrapping around his fingers. He feels her gummy mouth clamp down on the tip of his forefinger and he frowns. No way he is waking Kate up, not now that she's going to finally get six hours of sleep.

"We'll figure something out, little Miss Lee," Castle murmurs.

Not sure what that 'something' is right now, though, he thinks as he steps out into the hallway. Al's door is shut, the girl probably fast asleep through her sister's wailing. Minor miracle. He doesn't want to go too close to the bedroom and risk waking Kate up but the kitchen is a good medium.

He strokes a finger over Harper's cheek, wiping away the little tear streaks. "Shh, Scout," he warns, taking the stairs one at a time. Still not used to carrying a little life in his arms, he's been taking extra precautions that have Kate rolling her eyes. "Hmmm. I like Scout. New nickname, pretty girl."

Once they're in the kitchen, he takes the time to try and straighten out the onesie. It's hard, doing it one-handed as the baby wiggles, but he manages to get the middle of the outfit back where it belongs. He pats her belly, tickling her sides lightly as he wanders the kitchen for something to do, something to help quiet Harper. She gurgles, making nonsense noises around his finger, eyes fixed on his face as he searches the area.

"Yeah, not much around," he comments. "Need to go grocery shopping soon."

Shifting Harper to his hip, Castle opens the fridge. With one hand, he shields the baby's eyes from the light but her head falls back against his hand. Her eyes are wide open, hazel blinking at him, mouth a little O. Studying him.

"Just like your mother, you know that, Scout?"

Her face breaks out into a smile, head wobbling a little against his palm.

"Yeah. Mom's pretty great."

He's afraid she's going to get cold and catch pneumonia and then Kate will kill him for making Harper sick by standing in the open fridge with the baby at whatever awful hour it is right now. He closes the door. The last thing he needs is Kate angry with him and Al trying to murder him because he hurt her little sister.

Harper whimpers when the light disappears, her tiny fingers reaching out blindly.

"Oh," he says, smoothing a hand over the baby's thin head of brown hair. "You like the fridge?"

The door is open again, the chilly breeze caressing their skin. Goosebumps are breaking out on his skin but Harper is captivated. Her eyes scan the shelves of food and bottles of water, eyes that have been drifting between the pretty blue of Castle and Kate's mossy hazel.

Harper makes a sound that sounds something like a cooing bird. She sounds happy.

Who knew a fridge light and a little cold could make the newborn happy.

"Dad?"

That is definitely not the baby.

Al is on the stairs, bare feet curling against the steps. One hand is rubbing sleep from her eyes, the other is holding onto the railing. She blinks into the soft light from the refrigerator, moving further into the kitchen.

"Hey, kid." Castle turns just enough to see Al but not enough to take the light away from Harper. "What're you doing up?"

"Heard Harper. Can I have water?"

It's a juggle to keep Harper happy and get down Al's plastic penguin cup from the cabinet, pouring some water from the filtered pitcher in the fridge into the cup. His hand is over Harper's belly, keeping the girl against his waist as he hands the cup to Al. The seven year old is sleepy; her eyes keep drifting shut and her hands wobble as she takes the cup of water.

"Let's sit on the couch until this one falls asleep again, 'kay, kid?" he asks Al, reaching down to make sure the cup stays level.

Harper starts to cry when he closes the door to the fridge but he bounces her against his body, trying to quiet her enough so that Kate doesn't wake up when they move over to the living room.

Al cuddles up against his side and he manages to snag the cup before the water spills absolutely everywhere. The girl is leaning heavily on his arm, touching her fingertips to Harper's face, rubbing soothing circles over her sister's cheeks and nose and forehead.

"Shhh, baby," Al whispers. "Don't cry."

He's speechless. As Al hushes Harper, the older girl's voice rough with sleep, the newborn quiets, eyes focusing on Al. Once Harper was born, Al had withdrawn. He and Kate had told her that their attention might deviate for a while. For a time, everyone ooh'ed and ahh'ed over Harper and not Al and there had been a few times when he or Kate had been required to comfort a hurt Al. So to see Al here, speaking in a hushed whisper to her sister… His heart stutters.

"Go to sleep, Harper? Let's go to sleep."

With that, Al pushes herself closer against him, letting her eyes flutter shut. Castle wraps his free arm around Al's shoulders, readjusting Harper in the other so that she is tucked against his chest. He slumps a little into the cushions, sensing that they'll be here for a while.

She jerks awake.

It's too bright out. Harper should have cried or Al should have jumped onto the bed or Castle should have come and gotten her for breakfast.

Kate rolls toward his side of the bed and nearly falls off.

So it's not like he slept through the baby monitor or Al's excitement for breakfast. She continues over, pulling the too-loose flannel pants tighter with the drawstring and finding a holey sweatshirt to tug on as she makes her way out the living room.

She stretches her neck on the walk through the study. No screams of hunger from upstairs.

As she rounds the corner into the living room, she sees why.

There, on the couch, is her family. Castle is buried under the still-sleeping Al, the girl's mouth hanging slack against his neck. But Harper is awake. The baby's eyes are blinking, fingers curling and uncurling into Castle's t-shirt.

"Hey, Harper," she murmurs, trying to slide her arms around the little girl's body without disturbing her husband or softly snoring eldest. When the newborn's mouth opens in what Kate is sure is about to become a wail, she pauses. "Quiet. Dad and sister are sleeping. Cause they're lazy."

"Not lazy," comes the grumbled response. Castle's chest vibrates under Kate's hands, still wrapped around Harper. "Just tired. Morning, Kate."

She leans over just a little more, enough to brush a kiss over his mouth. "Morning, handsome. What's with the sleepover?"

Castle loosens his arms so she can take Harper up. She paces away, bouncing the little body lightly. Harper grabs for Kate's forefinger and she lets the baby put it into her mouth.

"She woke up. Wanted you to sleep more." He yawns, jaw cracking. "Then we just fell asleep."

Kate wanders to the kitchen, going for the fridge to pour out juice. With the baby in one hand, the pitcher of orange juice in the other, she closes the door.

"Careful, Kate! She loves the fri…"

He's drowned out by the crying from Harper.