Holy cow this story is still going? Wow. Hope you like this chapter. Once again, I am a bit nervous. All comments, criticisms welcome and I take everything on board and attend to anything anyone raises. Thank you again to all the lovely people involving themselves in this story. Please R&R. I truly am a bit nervous about this Chapter.

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Chapter 7

Inside the interview room, Baxter looked even larger than Rick remembered him. Much larger. It didn't seem possible, but there he was. Monstrous in every dimension, the man's head alone was a gargantuan block thunked onto massive shoulders like a hunk of unworked clay thrown onto a potter's wheel, with features crudely hacked into place as if someone had tried to sculpt it with a chainsaw. And now that he could see them, the marks his soft writer's hands had left upon that enormous face hardly seemed worth the praise that Ryan had handed out. A black eye (note: that is how to do a proper criminal dead eyed stare), a split lip and bruised cheek bone. Beauty spots at best. And the giant's hands! Sweet mother of... Where they rested, in fists no less, on the interview room table each was daintily spotted in red along the knuckles where they had impacted with Rick's face and ribs. And yes, those hands were the size of hubcaps. He was sure they were. He swallowed. Well, one thing was very clear: one Richard E. Castle should be very very dead.

"something Castle?" He heard the voice as a hand touched his lower back and grabbed his coat, pulling, and he realised he had swayed forwards on his feet and grabbed onto the frame of the interview window. Beckett had a handful of his jacket, hauling back to counter his movement. He looked back at her and nodded: I'm ok. He frowned at her tense, pensive expression. He didn't like to see her face pulled down in lines of worry like that. She already wore the burden of long hard fought days and unquiet nights too much for his liking.

"He's just - ah - He's just a bit larger than I remember." He stumbled over his words, trying to let her know she wasn't going to get a repeat of his break room swoon. It was her turn to nod now, lips twisted in a yeah he is that acknowledgement. "Next time I'll try to wait until the guy's back is all the way turned before I jump him!" He tried for levity in the lie, knowing he wouldn't ever wait. As terrifying as Baxter was, it would have been so much worse if he'd hesitated and that murderous giant had reached Beckett before - That wasn't something that bore contemplation.

"There can't be a next time Castle." She returned, and he flinched. Low blow. He already knew things were heading that way, there was no need to rub it in. He had already explained that he was sorry and that he going to fix it. What more did she want from him? Along with the irritation he suddenly remembered that they were supposed to be fighting, and tension returned to his jaw. But too late he saw in her eyes that there was more to her objection than the memory of their fight in the break room, something worse than their fight and his lie. Something bleaker than that. His anger lost its heat and he opened his mouth to say, what? He wasn't sure? But she looked away, back into the interview room. Turned away with a finality that gnarled his words in his throat, stuck them there. Her hand dropped from his coat.

Well, if this wasn't turning out to be the best day of his life...

Esposito spoke then, grabbing his attention. He seized on to the distraction with both hands and looked back in to the interview room. Damn. He hated it when people had their back to him. And right now both Esposito and Ryan had their backs to him. Well, now that his damned secret was out, he would never have to scramble to put together an interview again. Castle reached for the volume control and yanked the dial.

"- have the murder weapon Baxter." Espo was saying. "We have motive, we have opportunity, we have witnesses. The only thing missing: is your confession."

Oh that was sweet. So sweet. Castle almost bit down on his knuckle to stop the squeal, but at the last minute remembered the state of his hands. Esposito had a way with cop talk that made Rick's fingers itch to start typing. For a moment he forgot anything had changed since this morning. He needed a pen. He needed paper. He needed Espo to repeat that into a recorder. With feeling. Rick palmed the window, suddenly totally absorbed.

"Come on Ty." Ryan put in. "You're looking at life without parole in a small dark little hole in the ground. You confess, put your mark on paper, and we can see if that can't be made into a bigger sized hole."

Rick watched Baxter's face as it remained completely unmoved. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was so still his lawyer was eventually forced to partially stand and lean over to offer his advice into his client's ear. The legal professional, , a surprisingly erudite looking man with blond hair and a faint pencil moustache, was tall and graceful in his movements, and he made sure that no part of himself made contact with his client. Even going so far as to hold his coat back from brushing against the bigger man's shoulder. Fascinating.Then he whispered to his client and Rick's eyes narrowed in concentration, eyes tracking the man's lips. He was in profile which was a problem, but then he turned just a little towards their window to look narrow-eyed at the two detectives across the table and - will not confess. Do I make myself clear? Castle watched him turn back to his client to gauge the man's response. There was none. Nothing. Not even a twitch. Was the man stoned? No. Wait. Rick looked again, catching a faint gleam of perspiration on Baxter's upper lip and forehead. That wasn't stoicism or tough-guy indifference on display, that was the utter stillness of a big man so in fear of his life he wasn't even game to move. Castle swept his gaze over the lawyer's clothes. Pinstripe suit, not overtly pricy but very well tailored to fit his slim physique in all the right places. The watch, however, was another story: European, white gold and sleek metallic lines; he bet that was sapphire crystal glass covering the finely worked face. The watch wasn't new either. Rick had been researching watches for a piece he was writing, and had taken a shine to the catalogue he was browsing. That one was definitely not amongst the range for the last year.

OH!

"He didn't do it!"

"What?" He heard Beckett loud and clear this time and flinched.

" Audemars Piguet!" Forgetting his injuries he slapped the window with the back of his hand in a magician's flourish of an emphasis. "OW!" Espo and Ryan flinched and looked over their shoulders, eyes roving the mirrored surface.

"Castle!"

"Audemars Piguet, the watch." Rick cradled his hand against his bruised chest, too excited to stop now, and too in the moment to remember they were currently angry with one another. "Beckett, look at Baxter's lawyer. The watch, Kate the watch! That's a 100,000 Audemars Piguet wristwatch. He's tried to dress down. The big boss's orders I bet. But that watch! Money Detective. Money!" He paused, watching her catch up with him, watching the wheels turn. He jiggled on his feet, impatient. "Plus he just ordered his client not to confess!"

"What? How did you? Oh -." She breathed, looking at him with that familiar crackling, joyful intensity that made his heart race and his writer's heart sing poetry.

"How could Ty Baxter afford a lawyer with an Audemars Piguet wrist watch?" Rick prompted, knowing she'd put it together and take it home in the next moment. He bit down on his lip to keep from squealing his excitement.

"He couldn't." Kate carried on. She stepped closer, not seeming to know she was doing it. She looked at Baxter, then back up at him. "Someone else did. Someone who is giving the orders. Someone with the power to order a thug like Baxter to take a life sentence the hard way."

"And someone that scares him so much he won't even scowl when he does it." Castle added. They were inches away from each other now. He could smell her perfume, see each exquisite eye lash, each faint freckle. And for a second they were still, staring right into each other. My god, if she became any more beautiful to him he would probably die. And for what felt like the millionth time he cursed that morning, cursed himself for messing up so badly. He didn't want to fight with her, especially not on what was likely to be his last day here. He couldn't stay angry . Neither of them could though it seemed, if they weren't able to remember to stay mad at each other for longer than a few minutes. But then Beckett's eyes lost their sparkle, and the moment was over. She broke eye contact and scurried her gaze back to the interview room.

"You're right." She said, her lips betraying only a slight tremor that she had felt that buzz of connection. Yesterday, seeing that would have filled him with hope and desire and frustration, but now it just hollowed him out knowing that very soon he would likely lose ever seeing it again. He watched her watch Baxter and wished he felt nothing at all. "Baxter didn't do it. I have to stop the interview-"

She left the observation room at speed. Rick turned back to Baxter and his rich lawyer and regarded them flatly. Well, it might be his last day, but at least he was going to leave on a high. Woo fucking hoo.

CastleCastleCastleCastleCastleCastle

Word was out, Rick could see it. From his hiding spot, behind the half shuttered venetian blinds of the break room, the slow ripple ripe with gossip was going around the bullpen in a visible wave. His cover was blown. Within minutes they would all know. Damn Wikowski's infamous inability to stay off social media for more than an hour.

He sighed, retreated from the window, and carefully lowered himself onto the couch. Ouch. He pressed his lips together to stop himself making any noise and attracting the whispering bullpen to actively seek him out. Ribs, hand, head, stabbed him with their disapproval that he had moved - in any way. Oh yes, the hospital pain killers had worn off and he was once again one giant mass of hurt.

At least he had made the last half hour worthwhile though. He had borrowed a cell and made some overdue phone calls to Alexis (angry, upset, happy to hear from him, wanting him home), his mother (still annoyed, no scrap that, very annoyed, but understanding why he was where he was. Yes, he was nothing if not his mother's son), and Gina (who had handled things surprisingly well with a press release already doing the rounds and two interviews lined up for tomorrow - before the bruises faded and the opportunity for milking the heroism angle was lost). And lastly, to Bob. Which didn't get through, perhaps because he was still meeting with Montgomery? He left a message. It would have to be enough. For now.

There was still no sign of Montgomery. Or Beckett or Espo or Ryan. Since Beckett had made her dramatic entrance and arrested Baxter's lawyer, sweeping him from the room and leaving her colleagues to suspend their interview and return Baxter to the cells, he had not seen any of them. So he had made his way back to the break room and made his calls with only the occasional interruption from a caffeine or lunch seeking detective to interrupt his peace. Now he was trapped here by a rising tide of media gossip amongst the men and women outside the room. He sighed. And winced as his ribcage twinged painfully.

God, he was tired.

But, as could be expected when one thinks such a thought, there came an interruption and the door to the break room opened. Ah ha! The men of the hour, if without the woman of said hour this time.

"Castle?" Ryan sounded surprised to see him there. He tried to straighten up his slouch and winced as he nodded a greeting.

"Castle." Espo's greeting was curt. Rick nodded to him too. Then Javi paused and Rick caught the furtive, subtle jerk of Ryan's head in his direction. "So, ah, that was a good catch earlier. With Baxter. Beckett told us that you figured that the guy was just a stooge and that the lawyer was part of it. Ah, good catch. Probably going to be a much bigger case now. Bigger fish to catch." He nodded again, clearly uncomfortable, but Rick understood the message.

"Thanks." He said, knowing the other man would get his message too. It was the beginnings of forgiveness. He could more than live with that. He was so grateful for it he was glad it would hurt more to cry than to stop himself.

"Listen Epso," He said. "I am sorry about not telling you all about my uh, "why is it still so difficult to say? "hearing."

"Bro'," Javi shook his head, inclining for a second to glance at Ryan. "I get why you did it. I'm still pissed you did it, but I get it." Rick blinked, taken aback. He flicked a glance at Ryan, who was managing to look pleased with himself without making it too obvious. Oh. Rick could have kissed the man and it must have showed because Ryan did his half nod-half ignore thing that he did and disappeared to the coffee machine. "Just don't do anything that stupid again."

"Oh no." Rick fell over his words. Gratitude was no longer a sufficient word to describe how he was feeling. "I won't. Never again. Learned my lesson. And I- thank you."

And that was it. Forgiven. Or on the way to being so. It was a guy thing.

Then it was on. The inevitable questions. Coffee and questions. Questions he was only too happy to answer. How did it happen? How bad was his hearing anyway? Did his family all know? How were his wives (now ex's) persuaded to keep their mouths shut? What did he do to get by? How did he cover for his hearing? Could they see his very expensive hearing aids again? Could they try them out (what? No! Get your own super enhanced very expensive hearing augmentation devices!)? Could they see what damage Baxter's big fists had done?

And that's how Lanie found Rick with his shirt up around his armpits, pointing to a particularly awesome if very painful bruise, whilst Ryan and Espo variously whistled or nodded their wincing admiration.

"What is it with guys and war wounds?" She suddenly said from behind them. They all jumped. Castle cursed as the sharp movement forced damaged muscle, ligament and bone to move. He dropped his shirt under Lanie's disapproving eye. "What are you looking so pleased about Castle?"

"'War wounds'."

"Oh brother. So, I take it you've all kissed and made up then?" She asked. And the two detectives grinned.

"If only Beckett would let me kiss and make up with her." Rick said, brain comfortably back on non-filter mode. Then paused. Oh shit. "Oh, that came out wrong."

"No it didn't." Ryan said mildly from the coffee machine. Espo grinned only his second grin Rick had seen on him today.

"Don't tell Beckett." He pleaded. "Don't. I know you I owe you guys more, more than I - please don't tell her."

The men just grinned.

"Oh, it's going to take more than help on one case and you flashing your bits at her to make that happen." Lanie said.

"Tell me what to do." Oh he needed Lanie's advice. If he was ever going to completely fix this mess he needed her help.

"Well you can start by apologising."

"I did that already and it went over so well we got into a fight and now she's not talking to me."

"What exactly did you apologise for?"

"For not telling her about my hearing." He stared at Lanie, bewildered by the question. What else would he be sorry for? " And I told her I would fix it. Why? Isn't that-? What are you all shaking your heads for?"

"Oh man." Ryan shook his head. His expression was one of pure pity. Espo tsk'd and Lanie just stared at him.

"What?"

"Just how much do you remember about the raid this morning?" Espo suddenly asked.

"Well. I remember we went into the hideout. I remember there was a lot of weed. Oh man, I- Oh, ok. You guys and the SWAT team were clearing the house. I was following Beckett. It was noisy. I couldn't make much sense of what everyone was saying. It's like that when there's too much going on sometimes. No big deal. I remember I saw Baxter. He was coming up behind Beckett. I got the jump on him. We fought. Then it all gets a bit- I remember you guys doing this." He gave a thumbs up with his unbroken hand. "Then- then -" His voice petered out. There was nothing more. "Then the hospital."

"Oooh." Espo nodded. The nod and the oooh of a man who knew too much Rick decided. "OK. So you don't remember after the fight? Oh. Well, that explains it."

"Explains what?" Rick pleaded. Montgomery was going to be getting back from his meeting anytime soon and the pressure was already too intense. His head was starting to hammer again.

"You don't remember Beckett then?" Ryan butted in and Rick gave what must have been his dirtiest stop-playing looks he had ever shot anyone because Ryan hurried on. "You were pretty knocked around Castle. Baxter's got a hellava right hook on him and he got you real hard."

"We thought he'd punched your brains out of your skull. There was blood coming out of your ears man." Javi chipped in. Lanie shot him a mortified look and he stopped talking. "We didn't know about the hearing aids then." He defended himself. And Castle felt faint. He was damn glad he was sitting down.

"You were talking nonsense Castle." Ryan said. "You couldn't remember your name. You didn't know where you were or who we were. Beckett- She was - Look you gotta understand, being in a fight for real is not like it is in the movies or one of your books. Yeah I know you've done your research, but that's all academic. One punch can kill Castle, we all know that, but it's another thing to actually see it happening." Rick stared at Ryan, the light slowly going on. Oh. "We've seen it before. Too many times. A guy gets a few whacks to the head and he's a bit punch drunk, a bit hazy, but he's talking to you. He's not out cold. He's still breathing. But all the time he's - he's dying anyway. You just can't see it from the outside. Not right away."

"Oh." Rick felt his words die on his tongue. His lips, his jaws, felt like they were made of rubber. "So Beckett thought-"

"We all did." Espo said. "Baxter's one fucking huge hombre bro and he smacked you good. How you punched him out before you went down I will never know." I punched him out?

"So you see," Lanie said, giving his shoulder a gentle attention grabbing squeeze as she sat down beside him. Her voice was pure gentleness itself. "You've been apologising for the wrong thing. You want to start to patch things up with Beckett, honey? Well, first you have to apologise for dying right in front of her."