Kate took the cold sweating soda can from Esposito at the door as he passed by on his way to interview Baxter. He nodded at her: we got this Boss, but she could see in his stiff expression that he was still smarting over Castle's subterfuge. It would take a while for him to calm down, she knew, so it was probably for the best that he take lead detective on breaking Baxter. It would do him good. Get him focussed on something more positive. She nodded back and shut the door. As it clicked home, she squeezed her eyelids together for a long moment, took a breath, and turned back to the room.

"Here." She popped the can and handed it to Castle where he was reclining in a rumpled, dazed slump, nibbling at that lurid pink donut. He took the soda without a word, pretty much without looking up, and instead of drinking he gingerly pressed it to the mess of bruises and swelling along his cheek. A fine shiver ran through his hand as he touched the can to his skin, and the movement drew her attention to the deep bruising and battered knuckles. He had really let go on Baxter. Oh Castle... With those injuries, and his hand splinted, hair sticking up in sweaty, choppy waves, face pale, and still wearing that dusty coat and those baggy scrubs, he was a mess. And it was going to get worse before it got better.

Lanie was right: they had to talk. Before Montgomery returned. And before the media began their feeding frenzy.

She looked around for a seat and her gaze fell on Castle's couch. In the past she might simply have sat down with him. She may even, she admitted to herself, have plucked the can from his unsteady hand and held it in place for him while they talked. But now things were not so easy. For a start, she wasn't sure how angry to be with him anymore for nearly getting killed, against how guilty and angry she felt at herself for not handling the her own reaction in a more professional manner. She opted to pull a chair close by and sit facing him. "Feeling any better?" She asked. He didn't answer, just continued to slowly eat that disgusting pastry, staring at the floor. She nudged his foot with hers. "Castle."

"Huh?" He looked up. A line of condensation from the soda had streaked down the side of his face. And she paused, a pithy remark about being away with the fairies stalled on her tongue. Yesterday she would have just ribbed him on his not hearing her. And yesterday he would have taken it, maybe turned it around on her, and they would have moved on. But now, was he ruminating, zoned out with his sugar low, or was it that he simply hadn't heard her? Couldn't hear her. It was that last possibility that had changed everything and thrown off her game, their game. She didn't even know where to begin that talk they needed to have.

Maybe it just had to start at the beginning.

"I haven't thanked you Castle." She said, leaning forwards, elbows on her knees and hands clasped. He stared. Blinked. And then she saw it. How had she not seen it before? It was clear now; it was right there in the subtle dart of his gaze from her lips to her eyes, roving over her like he looked at a crime scene: searching for clues, leaving nothing unexamined. He was literally reading her words, her expression, her body language, to augment what the hearing aids didn't pick up. How hadn't she seen him doing this before? How had they all missed it. It rattled her and she had to take a moment to remember what she was saying. "For having my back this morning. Thank you. If you hadn't been there-"

"That's what partner's do." He said without hesitation. She needed his help, he was there. A simple huge thing stated so plainly, so without guile or agenda, it felt like a slap in the face. Then his hollow-eyed looked returned. "I'm going to fix this Kate." She blinked, startled at his use of her first name. The urgent intimacy of it was almost painful.

"Castle-"

"I will. That's why I came here-"

"Castle!" She repeated, but the earnest rambling didn't even pause. Clearly, words weren't going to cut it.

"This is on me." He went on. "You shouldn't have to be the one who has to explain. When Montgomery gets back I'll go - What are you doing?"

"Here. You're going to spill it." Kate spoke from beside him as she sat down and reached for the soda can. More effective than a shout to stop him talking, she took the can from his hand and examined the bruising. It was awful. She hoped Espo was exorcising some of his anger on Baxter. "There?" She gently pressed the cold surface about where he had had it. He nodded, staring at her.

"I will fix it-" He breathed. He was stuck on his line of thought and she could hear the desperate undertone in his voice, see the strain in his face. She could easily imagine this was the source of the energy that had enabled him to physically make the journey to the 12th. He was clearly exhausted, but on a fixed train of thought and action and there was no use trying to divert the conversation so she nodded and continued holding the can to his face. He visibly relaxed then. Probably thinking she may let him 'fix it' as soon as Montgomery got back. As if it could be fixed. Clearly he was not thinking with his usual piercing level of clarity or he would have realised it was now less about fixing things than it was about damage control. And it was unlikely that the sight of Castle wearing stolen hospital scrubs and staggering bandaged and beaten through Montgomery's office door would reassure the Captain that the situation was anything more than barely salvageable. She sighed. Her fingers were uncomfortably chilled holding the soda can, she suddenly realised. And it mustn't be too comfortable against Castle's skin either.

"I think that's enough." She pulled the can away, considering his bruised cheek. "It's probably better that the soda goes inside you at this point, than on the side of your face." She handed the can back.

"I really am sorry-"

"Stop, Castle." She looked at him pointedly. This constant apologizing had to stop. "Rather than being sorry, please just tell me why you kept this to yourself? We've been partnered up for months now. Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me about your hearing?"

"Trust you?" He repeated, looking at her closely. "Beckett, like I told Epso I haven't told anyone in over 20 years that didn't absolutely have to know."

"Why not?"

"Why not-?" He looked downright frustrated now, and a bit disappointed, and he choked on the words. "I- Before today, who was I?"

"I don't understand?"

"I think you do. I was Richard Castle, mystery writer. On the New York Times best seller list. Millionaire. The party guy. A self-made man. I was the guy who brought you coffee just how you like it, every day. I had something to offer to help solve your cases, even though you'll hardly ever admit it. I was your -" He paused, clearly irritated, even angry. "-attached to the 12th to find inspiration for my next best seller. But now what am I?" He stared, heated emotion clearing his gaze. She didn't have to be a genius to know what he was alluding to. And he must have seen her put the pieces together because he nodded sharply. "Exactly." He paused again, and she didn't know what to say. Telling him it didn't matter that he was deaf, that she didn't see him any differently would be a lie. And they both knew it.

"After I lost my hearing," He stopped, licked his lower lip, swallowed, "everyone was so focussed on what was lost. It was bad enough feeling like I'd slipped out step with the rest of the world, without everyone around me reminding me every single second. Before it happened I was just a regular kid. I went to the park, I played with my friends, I rode my bike, I skipped school sometimes and I got caught and punished for it. But after wards," he paused, exhaled. "Afterwards, I was the deaf kid. I couldn't be trusted to do anything anymore, to achieve anything, to be able to do anything for myself. I wasn't even allowed to go to the damn park by myself anymore. And if I tried, I didn't even get punished for it. Like I was so damaged even that might finish me off. It was like I'd lost everything I was along with that chunk of my hearing." He had stopped looking at her as he talked, instead moving stiffly to sit forward, resting his elbows on his knees. And now as he paused again, Kate found herself unable even to breathe in the silence. She felt frozen in her seat. She had no idea all this was inside him. And from Martha's explanation of what had happened so long ago, with her despair at not being able to reach him or even to understand why things had eventually changed, it was clear that she had no idea this had been held inside him for so long either. He turned his head to look at her.

"So, you need to know that it's not about trust Kate. I do trust you. No, it's about being allowed to be who I am!" He said. His jaw clenched around words that were still heated with an old bitter anger. "And it's about stopping people looking at me like you are looking at me right now!"

"I'm not-" She started automatically, and he gave her a look that he must have picked up from Lanie. She stopped, chagrined. But -"OK. But Castle, not telling people may work when it's just you, writing and partying, but when you came to the 12th it stopped being just about you. Our job is dangerous. We rely on each other to get it done and to get it done as safely as possible. And we have to trust one another with everything that counts to keep it that way. Otherwise, it can't work."

"I know. But I was handling it." He objected, the old anger turning peevish. That sounded more like the Castle she knew, but right now childish whining had no charm and just grated against her skin. He had about zero rights to be angry with her challenging him about such a vital part of The Job. And it was clear that up until things went bad, that he really had no idea what his withholding the state of his hearing could have resulted in for the rest of the team. Far from handling it, he had just been damn lucky. Of all the self-centred, self-absorbed, clueless, childish-

"Until you weren't!" She retorted hotly. "Until you couldn't hear something that you really needed to hear and you were nearly killed! Look Castle, I am truly sorry about what you have to carry with you every day, and I think what you have managed to accomplish is nothing short of remarkable. I do. But as long as you are with the 12th, with me, you absolutely cannot keep things like this to yourself!"

They stared at one another. Glared.

"And I said: I will fix it." Castle finally spoke, voice tight.

"Oh, really. How? How are you going to fix this so Captain Montgomery doesn't kick you to the curb?"

"Doesn't-?" Castle snapped back, eyes widening. Something, some new fresh emotion flashed in his eyes, but was gone before she could identify it. He opened his mouth to say something-

And here was a knock at the door. Ryan poked his head in.

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," he glanced at each of them in turn, expression tentative. Then his eyes widened. "Hey aren't you two supposed to be working things out?"

"We are-" Kate retorted, surprised and then aggravated that Castle had spoken the same words at the same time. How dare they be so in sync when she was so angry with him! She glared. He glared back.

"Uh, guys-"

" Ryan- What is it? Baxter's lawyer causing problems?" Kate tore her gaze from Castle's, blinked and looked up at the detective hanging inside the room, propped on the door handle. Now that she had steered the conversation back to the case, Ryan looked like a kid about to give a present to his parents on Christmas. The energy was just buzzing from him.

"No, no. It's all good. Very good. Espo's on a roll. I thought you might like to see him take it home." He gave a small wolfish grin at Castle. "You really gave it to him good Castle. Guy looks like a punching bag. Wanna see him go down for the count?"

Castle stared. He was scanning, Kate realised, recognizing the analytical look on his face. He was evaluating Ryan. Not just his words, but everything he could see. Then he nodded and a small tense smile that did not reach his eyes pulled at his mouth. "Yes. I. Do."

End Chapter 6.

OK, so, not entirely smooth sailing. Yet. Bit of misunderstanding there. Bit of miscommunication between our heroes. I am an incurable romantic, though, so it will get there. Please R&R *looks hopeful*