Enjoy the Silence

A/N: This. This is actually the chapter with the original idea this story came from, many months ago and long before the finale played out, and though tweaked a little, it still incorporates the essence of what that particular plot bunny was about, the finale offering a wonderful setting for it to come into life. So I honestly hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Meg, as always; thank you.

Chapter 14

"Maybe it's just my interpretation, but you don't look very comfortable here, Rick. Is something the matter?"

There's a moment's silence before the answer comes in a sequence of quick strokes to the keyboard that's been set up for his use. The words appear on the screen sitting next to his chair, and as he types, Castle realizes – damn – that he won't have the chance to really reconsider or edit his words, not like this. He'll have to weigh each and every one because the man can see everything, sees them all as they come pouring out from his mind straight through his fingers onto the screen, and no matter how often he tries to backspace, it'll already be too late. They'll already be seen.

The whole thing is kind of disconcerting. It's not his regular process, not how he usually does things. He writes, edits, retypes, and rephrases, over and over again, carefully cherry-picking his words and their order, until they're perfectly aligned into a sentence and he's satisfied with the sound of them. No…this is nothing like that.

But this is – well, it's honest, he guesses, much the same way as when a person speaks spontaneously. No room for editing there either. So logically, this is the truest way he knows how to do this, the most natural one. But it's still weird, and it makes him feel exposed.

"Rick?"

His eyes snap up, a deer in the headlights. He must have zoned out for a moment there, but the voice is still surprisingly patient, no teasing or bite to the tone. He appreciates that. He really does. He's going to need that. He resumes his typing, the thoughts that have been his constant concern for the past couple of days finally surfacing, taking shape, his worry materializing on the screen before them.

It's just…you know so much about Beckett. And through her, you also know me. I don't want to pretend I was a huge topic…

He stops there and wants to take the last part back immediately. Just delete the last sentence and start over again, but that's not how this works. This isn't one of his books, where he can shape and tweak his words over and over again. There's no censorship, and he doesn't like that, not one bit. It makes him uneasy, and a little scared. He hasn't…well, talked, for lack of a better word, in months. So to start like this, his thoughts and mind forced to be open and unguarded? He really doesn't like the feel of it.

The man regards him patiently, waiting him out, giving him time to finish his thoughts. Castle finally surrenders, silently sighing as he forces his fingers to dance over the keyboard once again, using all of his willpower to fight against the urge, the nearly compulsive need, to delete what he's written and just walk out the door. But he won't do that, because he made a promise; he promised to try, so he forces his butt to remain still and his fingers to continue their typing, moving forward instead of deleting his words and starting again.

I just feel like I'm at a slight disadvantage here. Not knowing what you know, how much she told you. How she talked about me.

He reads the words, stopping momentarily to consider the meaning behind them for himself. Is this his ego talking? That certainly plays a part in it. A huge part, if he's being completely honest. But another part of him knows deep down that he's also afraid (terrified really) of how he was portrayed to this stranger, a seemingly unbiased party whose role at one time was to be on her side. To listen and understand her point of view. And it's not that he doesn't trust her. He absolutely trusts her, with his life in fact, but this is different.

Carter Burke has known Kate for years. He's listened to her darkest secrets and discussed her silliest desires. This is a man who's probably had a deeper look into her psyche than any other person before him. Rationally, Castle knows that this isn't a contest, but it does intrigue him. He's so very curious about what she said while equally scared of what this man knows, what kind of opinions about him he may have already formed. He feels trapped, and that doesn't help the matter of why he is here in the first place at all.

Dr. Burke shifts slightly in his armchair, makes himself more comfortable, tranquility and eternal patience radiating from him as he regards him with those deep, brown eyes. He takes his time in choosing his words, and wow, Castle can definitely understand what Beckett saw in him, why she decided to place her trust into this man's hands.

There is something about his inviting demeanor, his easiness and eternal calm. God knows Castle could use some calm these days.

"I understand your feelings of course, Rick. If you believe that my prior relationship with Kate will pose a problem with my ability to treat you, or would interfere with how open you feel you can be with me, it wouldn't be advisable for us to continue. In that case, I can recommend several other psychologists that I trust could help you."

That surprises Castle. Wow, giving up so easily, huh? From what Beckett has told him, from what he knows she's been through with him, Castle didn't get the impression that Burke was a quitter. But maybe this situation, maybe he is just too much trouble to…

"But I do have specific experience with trauma-induced mutism, Rick," Burke continues calmly, "and I sincerely believe that I could help you."

Castle nearly doesn't contain the urge to roll his eyes. Not out of disrespect. No way. But because this man, as sincere as he might be in his pursuits, has no idea what he's getting himself into.

"I know Kate Beckett; I would even venture to say I know her quite well. She's been, as I am sure you know, a patient of mine for a little over three years now."

He does know that, damnit. He does know, and it makes him feel a little ashamed. If this man has helped Kate through her darkest stuff, the toughest issues that Castle himself wasn't able to, he should definitely not question this man's abilities and have a little more respect and trust towards him.

"Having said that," Burke resumes in an even tone, "I want you to understand that knowing Kate for so long doesn't make me partial in any way."

Damn, he is good. The shame bubbles up inside Castle's chest and he finds that he can't meet the man's eyes as he steadily continues. "There are no sides here. You get a completely fresh start, a clean slate, a blank page, call it whatever you like. And I can assure you that whatever is discussed inside these walls during these sessions will be strictly confidential."

Is he blushing? Castle realizes in horror that he might be.

"I would really like to develop a relationship with you, Rick, one where you could feel like you can trust me. With anything. Our meetings aren't supposed to be about what work I've done with Kate or what she disclosed to me about you or your relationship, although I won't deny that you have been discussed during a considerable number of our sessions." Burke ends, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing in the corner of his lips, and it takes Castle by surprise, challenges him somehow.

He stays silent, mulling over Burke's words. His curiosity is piqued again, despite his better judgment, even though he knows that he's not here to pry about Kate, but rather to get help for himself. So he shouldn't be thinking about how the man in front of him has all the answers about the mysterious woman he's been desperately in love with for years, like all he needs to do is just to ask. No, that would be highly inappropriate. Yet still…

"In fact," Burke speaks up again, his steady serenity almost a living thing, "just before you came in for your session, I got a call from Kate."

That receives Castle's full attention, his eyes steadily meeting Burke's maybe for the first time since he came in. Of course Kate knew he had an appointment this afternoon. She let him decide whether he wanted to come alone or accompanied, but he chose the solitary approach and she respected it, agreeing without any objections and merely securing him an appointment a couple of days ago. They didn't talk about it any further, however, not outside the single kiss and a good luck wish she pressed against his lips this morning as she left for the precinct.

"She expressed certain concerns about our shared history, fears that it might be an issue for you, so she asked me for something rather unorthodox in my experience and field of work. I still don't know exactly how to execute her suggestion without getting into a potential conflict with my professional ethics. However, I do acknowledge that this is a rather unusual case with special circumstances, so we'll need to find a way to make it work in a manner that suits all three of us."

He can't help it; he's totally on edge with the suspense, his fingers already flying over the keys in front of him.

What did she ask you to do?

"Regarding my history with Kate as her therapist and your resulting disadvantage of not being privy to that relationship, Kate gave me permission to answer any questions you might have regarding the things that she and I discussed here."

Catsle sits there, dumbstruck, Burke's words stunning him speechless. The pun isn't intended, but it's more than accurate. This is… huge. A monumental, game-changing kind of a thing. He merely stares at Burke, his fingers arrested over the keyboard.

"I'm sure you can appreciate that this is an extremely serious thing, as it would be for any person, but especially for Kate Beckett. She spent a good deal of time sitting in the very chair you're sitting in now over the course of the past three years, working extremely hard to resolve the issues that she'd been burying deep inside her for more than a decade. A lot was said and revealed in that time and a lot of that included and concerned you too, as you were an integral part of Kate's life for the last couple of years. And yet, even though we both know how private a person she is, she gave me the explicit permission to answer any of your questions – even offered to give her consent to me in writing if the need arose – if I thought the knowledge might be of help to you. I think the level of devotion she's showing here in her pursuit to help you is obvious."

Castle continues to sit in stunned silence, so Burke takes that as a signal to continue. "However, it's important that you know that there are no strings attached to her offer. It is indeed a huge gesture on her part, but she doesn't want you to interpret it as any kind of pressure towards you. You're not required to continue to see me, nor do you have to share what we discuss with her in return. She merely wanted to wipe any potential trust issues off the table."

Castle finally manages to concentrate long enough to allow his fingers to start typing again, Burke's words making him feel out of breath and maybe a little ashamed too, but not ashamed enough to stop him from asking the question that's on his mind and refuses to be ignored.

She really said I could ask anything?

"Yes," Burke answers decisively. "If it can help you to overcome any potential mistrust or the feeling of being at a disadvantage here, then go ahead and ask. I've decided that my approach will be to only disclose information that I believe will be helpful or relevant to the matter at hand, despite the fact that Kate has given me absolute freedom. But I think you can appreciate that I continue to have certain reservations about sharing things that were told to me in confidence, and that I will be selective in what I share with you."

Castle nods, but he isn't particularly concerned about the man censoring the information about Kate. If nothing else, Burke's words put his mind at ease, as he can plainly see that the man holds Beckett in high regard for making this offer, while simultaneously feeling the need to look out for her wellbeing and privacy. And it does make him feel slightly better about the whole trust issue. Burke seems like an honest, decent man, and Beckett obviously trusts him without reservation, with all the secrets she has. Holy hell, the man must be something indeed if he deserved such a bottomless level of faith from Beckett. And now he shares that trust too, is allowed to ask anything and just…wow. She continues to blow him away. It's…it's almost too much.

Once again, he consciously makes his fingers unfreeze, giving them a free pass and allowing them to type out his next thought automatically, as if on their own accord.

I don't know that to do with that kind of...power, he writes, a bit lost but also overwhelmingly curious. Jeez, he feels like such a jerk for wanting to ask some of the questions racing through his mind.

"And yet, I can see there are questions you really want to ask," says Burke in a kind voice, that knowing, calm bastard. But he's right, damn it. There are questions, oh so many of them, just waiting to be asked.

Did she come to you…after? I mean, after I was taken.

"Yes," answers Burke gravely, a tiny nod of his head. "She visited several times."

Oh God, that answer intrigues him even more. It opens so many more other doors, inspires a whole new set of questions that are just begging to be asked, because as much as his family is still in the dark about what has happened to him during those nine weeks, he's just as clueless about them and their time when he was gone.

There are so many things he wants to know, so many queries that make his brain burn and fingers itch, his heart full and more than a little overwhelmed by the level of power and trust Kate put into his hands. All of a sudden, it's a responsibility he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Anything in particular you want to know, Rick?" Burke asks, prodding him, and damn why is he spurring him on? It's completely unhelpful when he's trying to be the better man here. He's trying, but it feels like he's failing.

Castle chews on the inside of his mouth, thinking hard, mulling over the offer. There's just so much he wanted to know about Kate for years, craved it even. It's a gift and a curse simultaneously, this opportunity he's been presented with, getting a chance to look into the uttermost hidden niches of Kate Beckett's inner world, served to him on a silver platter in the form of her psychologist's consent and her unconditional seal of approval.

And yet, it feels wrong, on so many levels, because he already knows her. He doesn't need a third person to tell him about her, about the state of her mind. Their relationship is solid, strong, at a stage where he can simply ask and she won't deny him, or at least that's what he wants to believe. What he doesbelieve? Why use a cheat sheet when the real deal is so much more intriguing, so much more rewarding?

No. This is about him. They are here to solve his problems, not Kate's. His heart twists oddly in his chest at the thought of her, his wonderful, unique, amazing fiancée. Again, he has no idea how he continues to deserve her, but he won't question it. Because he's got her, and he knows it. He starts typing again.

So, how do we tackle this, doctor? What's the deal with therapy? You ask me questions and I answer, or...?

He raises his questioning eyes to Burke, waits a moment and to his enormous astonishment, instead of an answer, the man gives him a huge, satisfied smile. As if he, Castle, has passed a test he wasn't even aware of, something akin to pride shining in his dark eyes and it takes him by surprise, makes him self-conscious as he quickly looks away, unable to withstand the intensity of the man's gaze.

"We can talk about whatever you want," Burke replies after a moment. "We can begin with something you might be comfortable with. For example, we can start with you, what kind of person you are."

Castle gives him a somewhat rueful, a little bashful smile, before he types, I don't know about that. I feel like you already know me.

"How do you mean?"

Through Kate, he simply offers.

"She might have told me things about you, Rick, but those things only reflect her perception of you. The you as seen through her eyes, so to speak, not you as you see yourself."

He argues back, Oh, but in that case, you still have a perception of me. So the question is, can you separate what you've already learned about me from Kate? Or do you already have preconceived notions based on what you learned about me from her.

Burke smirks. Actually smirks, before saying: "Yes. She definitely mentioned you being like this."

Like what? Castle fires back in reply, a challenge in his eyes as he looks Burke directly in the eye. He likes this man. He's…different. Not your usual neighborhood psychologist asking you how you feel about this or that. He's up for an intellectual discussion, is highly perceptive and extremely smart. And Castle suspects the man to also have a good sense of humor, hidden somewhere underneath the thick layer of professionalism. Indeed, he already likes this man a lot.

"Basically, a smart-ass."

Castle silently laughs, surprised at Burke's bluntness. He dares to poke him a little further, fishing for more details. Figures. What else did she say about me?

"She called you many things over the years. Smart, funny, quick-witted. Obstinate and annoying." That part makes Castle smile, a huge grin stretching across his lips. He can totally picture her saying that. "Perceptive but evasive sometimes, closed off when confronted with his own issues," Burke says, a more serious tone lacing his voice and Castle's smile falls, his heart trashing wildly in his chest when confronted with the truth of his words and the level of accuracy with which Kate was able to portray him. Things he wasn't able to hide from her, obviously. "Optimistic and a little idealistic. A loving father and a good son. A reliable partner, at work as well as in life."

Castle's eyes fall shut at Burke's last words and he feels them like a physical force, his heart aching, but Burke merely continues, giving Castle exactly what he asked for. "She described you as sometimes being too childish, pompous, and a little bullheaded," Yeah she's one to talk, Castle thinks childishly before Burke delivers his final blow."A man that can wield his words like a weapon."

He falls silent after that and Castle doesn't need to look at him to know the man has planned it, picking his words exactly like this to strike a nerve, hard, and he did. Ouch, but he did. Burke doesn't say anything more, instead waiting and giving him room for a reaction, but it's too much for him to compose an answer to that, to try to defend himself somehow. And what exactly would he be defending against? The truth?

When no answer comes even after a couple of moments, Burkes speaks up again, his tone far more gentle. "That's why you're here sitting in that chair, isn't it Rick? Because you're missing your words now. Because you've been robbed of an essential part of yourself, something that used to come so easily, so naturally to you."

A lump forms in Castle's throat and his fingers feel clumsy and sticky as he finally writes, She told me about you, too.

"Told you what?"

Her thoughts about you. Like that fact that you're extremely perceptive. And that you don't mince words.

"Is that a bad thing? Does it make you feel uncomfortable?"

Castle shrugs. It's true, it does unnerve him, the forethought Burke seems to put into his every word, their accuracy, each sentence a precisely planned maneuver to guide him where he needs to go. But it also feels like a good thing, sort of.

Yes, he writes honestly. But it's a good thing too. I think I need that. I need someone direct. So I… he stops for a beat before continuing… So I won't have a way to escape and hide. The evasive part of methat Kate told you about. She's quite correct there.

A sour taste spreads through his mouth at the admission, but it's true. And if he wants help, if he wants his condition to improve, he needs to be honest. There's no way around it. It takes some time until he's able to raise his eyes from the keyboard to look at Burke again, and he's immediately confronted with a piercing, searching look.

"Why don't we start at the beginning, Rick? With when you were taken."