My sincere and huge apologies for the gap between chapters - A/N at the end to explain it.

And as always, a HUGE thank you to my wonderful beta Ebfiddler, without whom this would be so so much less than it is. Thank you for your time and continuing patience despite the trials life is throwing your way at the moment. Couldn't do this without you.

Onwards to Chapter 16:

Chapter 16:

MR: The mouse has taken the cheese.

KB: I beg your pardon? Martha?

MR: I repeat: the mouse has taken the ... Oh, phooey. I'm no good at this secret spy code business. Yes, it's Martha darling. I am calling to tell you that Alexis and I have outdone ourselves, and if Richard doesn't contact you by the end of the day I will hang up my acting hat and become a... a... an accountant.

KB: That's really... fast! Martha, what did you do?

MR: Ah, well, maybe after all this is over I will reveal my secret, but for now let's just say that a mother knows where to apply pressure. Oh! I can't stay on the phone: Richard is getting restless, prowling about the house. He'll call soon. Be ready. And thank you, darling. Thank you.

She was right.

Mere hours after Martha's prediction here she was, stepping into the elevator of Castle's building for the second time in 24 hours. Heading to the loft at the writer's invitation too, just as his mother had foretold. Martha Rogers was good. So was Alexis. Whatever scheme they had cooked up, whatever plan they had put into effect, it had worked like the proverbial charm. Within an hour of Martha's call, Castle had rung through to the Twelfth to ask her to come by the loft after work to get his statement statement [erase duplicate] about the raid and the altercation with Baxter. He was good, too. There was nothing in his words or tone to suggest anything unusual had occurred just the day before, or that revealed the nervous energy his mother had reported that had him roaming around his home. It was just business as usual. Even the childish glee as she agreed to his request to bring burgers for an early dinner was in character. Damn, he was very, very good; every bit the actor his mother was. Maybe even more so. Kate let out a breath as the elevator doors closed behind her and pressed the button for the loft. She was beginning to grasp just how very little she might know him at all.

Then the elevator shuddered slightly, signalling its ascent. Her stomach lurched a little with it. After nearly 30 years of silence, Castle was finally ready to talk. God, what did that even mean? What would she find when the loft door opened this time? Would he remember her being there yesterday? Alexis would surely have told him. (How that conversation must have unfolded...) Would he remember his appeal to Alexis to seek refuge and protection with her? It was something that she would never ever forget. It still ripped into her in ways she did not want to examine, that he trusted her and respected her abilities so completely that even nearly delirious with exhaustion and a crazy drug reaction he had remained clear on one thing: directing his daughter into her care. Kate swallowed down her apprehension. Would she be able to handle what was coming next? Clearly, if Castle believed she could protect Alexis, he thought so. She just hoped that he was right. She drew in a calming breath and readjusted her hold on her backpack and helmet, and the bag of burgers

Nearly 30 years...

Decades.

She let that thought roll around in her mind again. After years of hiding from something, something terrible, he was ready to talk. The enormity of it beggared the mind. And he was going to tell her. Over a cheap and greasy burger. A very specific burger from a ratty little hole in the wall place so nondescript that no one seemed to have heard of it, except Castle. His intractable insistence that it be this particular burger joint, whilst baffling in itself, did make it sort of special, but still... It felt strangely inappropriate. But then what would be the right way to have this enormous conversation? Might as well be comfort food, no matter how oily and disgusting it was. It was the least she could do. Anything to help this go easier on him.

Anything to help him. She was suddenly surprised how that thought grabbed at her; from how deep inside it came. Anything to help. When had Richard Castle slipped through her professional armour so completely? It wasn't just yesterday either, she felt that. But... But... He annoyed her, routinely. He had come in to the Twelfth like a chaotic whirlwind, messing with her, with the job. Poking his nose into everything, fiddling with crime scenes, playing poker with her boss, trading jibes with her partners and making them giggle like children, buying coffee machines, bringing donuts for everyone in the department until they all loved him like some sort of big goofy mascot.

Dammnit, he made her lose focus.

He made her straight lines run curved, or worse: into loopy absurdity. Seriously, just how many conspiracies did he think the CIA was responsible for? Or how many zombie apocalypses were just waiting to lay waste to New York? And heaven-help him if she heard one more alien abduction theory...

He came on to her with those irritating lines that just raised every hackle. And he took her return fire with totally misplaced glee. As if getting under her skin was somehow something marvellous and shiny.

And he made her smile. Inappropriately.

He noticed when she had forgotten dinner.

He brought her coffee. He brought her her coffee. Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla. As if that made his interference in her serious police work anymore bearable? As if his somehow knowing what she liked, and never forgetting to bring it with him could make up for the disruption to her life... She suddenly felt Lanie's eyebrows rising, as if the M.E. was standing right in front of her, in full uh huh.

Oh hell...

But, somehow, through all that, he had managed to hide all... this. All this distress and silence and secrecy. Decades of it. She felt the enormous weight of it again. How had he accomplished it? How had he hidden it from every one? From his family. The every-hungry press. From her. The magnitude of the subterfuge was staggering. It went well beyond the realms of luck. The planning, the never-ending vigilance, the utter unflagging determination that it implied was just staggering. It was the kind of frightening combination of intelligence, strength of will and sheer guts, that made the best in law enforcement. And the most accomplished criminals.

The elevator lurched to a sudden stop and her stomach fluttered with it. Fluttered with apprehension, if she was honest. The doors slid open. It was time. She approached his door and, without pausing, knocked.

The door jerked open on her first tap, as if Castle had been waiting for her arrival in his own front hall. And there he was in the open doorway dressed as if for an early morning rendezvous with a body, in a blue button down shirt, dark slacks and dress shoes; his hair styled, and that familiar cologne adding a spice to the air that she automatically tried not to notice. It was the very picture of normal. It was all business. All Castle. If it wasn't for the heavy scruff of beard and the bruising down his face, and the cast he had somehow gotten past the cuff of his shirt, anyone might be forgiven for thinking that it was any regular day. Damn, he was good. But now that she knew better, she looked again and was relieved that she was actually able now to see past the presentation, to see the fine lines of strain around his eyes, the tension in his jaw.

They stared at each other for the space of a few heartbeats, and the anxiety she sensed radiating from him became subsumed by a sharp probing look, camouflaged behind carefully choreographed faux surprise at who was at his door and a throwaway line, weighted just enough with innuendo to be annoying, about how many traffic violations she must have accumulated in her desire to get to him so quickly. And that smirk. In reflex her irritation flared and, despite knowing better, she very nearly fell into the obvious trap. Oh my god, so that was how he did it! And she was so primed to respond to the trigger that she had to pull back hard as if she was reining in a lunging horse.

She paused. She had to see this for what it was and use it. Martha had said he was ready to talk, and it was her task to see that he did. She looked him over again. The clothes, the attitude, the mixed messages... He had called her to the loft, into his home, and he had been waiting for her, but he had also dressed himself for work. He was nervous, even anxious, but was glossing it over behind the teasing and that grin. It didn't take someone of Castle's perceptive calibre to see that his mind was caught between two desires, running and standing his ground, bringing her in but keeping her at arm's length. Clearly, this evening could go either way and he wasn't yet decided in which direction to go. He needed to calm down. He needed to see, to feel, that it was safe to talk. And that was her job.

"Don't flatter yourself Castle. The burgers were getting cold." She let the pent up comeback out in a familiar riposte, and hoisted the plastic bags in his direction. She would bide her time within their usual banter, for the moment.

At the mention of the burgers, he suddenly smiled, and snatched the proffered bags and looked inside and inhaled. "Ah, Harry's!" he grinned wider, a little lop sided with the bruising, but still a reasonably good Castle thousand watt beam. Kate followed him into the loft as he made for the kitchen island clutching his disgusting treasure.

"I don't understand why it had to be that place, Castle. I swear I saw a cockroach trying to escape the kitchen. Why the city hasn't closed him down years ago, I don't understand."

But Castle didn't answer. He was in the kitchen, his back to her, reaching for a cupboard at head level. He didn't seem to have heard her (knowing why that was likely was still so strange), and so Kate took a moment to study him unobserved, noting the hesitation and favouring of one arm, the stiffness as he moved. Still hurting. And still acting. Still needing a nudge. Well, no time like the present, and getting those plates down was looking far too painful to be worth it anyway -

"Castle." Kate spoke, louder and slower than she would have in the past, as she rounded the kitchen island to appear beside him. She reached out and slid a hand around the hard curve of his upper arm, to let him know she was there. "Here. Let me."

"Huh?" he looked at her, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised by her presence by his side and her offer. His gaze travelled down to her hand where it rested against his shirt. He blinked. "Oh, ok. Thanks."

"What are partners for?" she said offhandedly, deliberately not looking in his direction. OK, so that was a bit obvious, but her deliberate nonchalance might sell it. She withdrew her hand.

"Partners." She heard him repeat quietly, as she reached for and retrieved two very expensive and tastefully designed dinner plates. Ugh, and he wanted to put Harry's disgusting burgers on these? She continued to 'ignore' him and turned to put the plates down on the kitchen island. He was silent behind her now, but she could feel his presence disturbing the air like a subtle, tense, vibration. When he spoke again, there was a measure of jovial bluster back in his voice. "Right, right." And he appeared by her side with two drinking glasses and some napkins. She pulled the bag of food closer. She risked a glance in his direction -.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Eh, I'd like to say it looks worse than it feels, but," he stopped, paused, "well, you saw. Yesterday." OK, that was a loaded response. So he did remember. Or at the very least, Alexis had told him.

"Mmm," she hummed. "Yeah."

"Uh, thank you. For looking out for Alexis. For, uh, me too." He paused, rested his hand on the bench. His nostrils flared as he breathed. "Look, um, about yesterday, I-" He paused, choked mid-sentence. She waited, but he couldn't seem to continue. The seconds ticked past and for once the writer seemed to be lost for words. He was going to bolt, to deflect and divert and run. She could see it coming. That couldn't be allowed that happen:

"It's OK Castle. It's like I said: partners," she said, letting him off the hook and noting the lowering of his shoulders as the tension dropped. He nodded.

"Where are Alexis and Martha tonight?" she asked, continuing along her casual pathway.

"Upstairs. Mother has an audition coming up, and Alexis is helping her with it. They just headed up there, so they won't be down for a while." He put the glasses down on the bench top. "Soda, juice, water? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"Just water for me. If we have to call a bus after these burgers I want there to be no confusion about the cause of the poisoning." She fished inside the bag for the burgers and set one on each plate, while he headed to the fridge and opened the door. He returned with a jug of chilled water, and she considered him in profile as he poured the glasses deciding she could push a little more. "Seriously, Castle, you aren't completely without taste - and you ask me to bring burgers from Harry's. Why? I can afford better on my salary you know."

"It's not about the money, Beckett."

"Then what is it about? Come on, spill. And don't say food."

Castle's lips quirked into a brief reflexive smile and he gave her considered look; a long moment of calculation half disguised behind the curl of his lips. That grin might have annoyed her in the past, but the fact that he was doing only that, rather than deflecting into some ridiculous soliloquy made it clear that he that was deciding something. For some reason this was important, and a decision was being made inside that complicated mind about how much to tell her. She could guess it was somehow connected to what was going on with him, and held her peace to wait him out.

But... Not yet it seemed.

"Let's eat Beckett. These burgers are getting cold."

They retreated into the loft, into his office, where he had added an extra chair to the room so that they could sit together, plates on their knees and glasses on the desk. There was no sign of the books he had upended across the floor yesterday.

"Hope you don't mind the seating. I don't want Alexis or Mother walking in on this."

"It's ok, Castle. It's fine." They slid into the chairs and she pulled out her paperwork and set up the recorder on his desk. She looked down at her burger with apprehension. The smell... There were limits. This was a limit! "OK, Castle. I just... I... There has to be a reason for this. If I am going to risk a heart attack, I have to know. So, hit me: spill the story. On these burgers. Now."

"Mmph?" Castle blinked her, blissfully spaced out with a mouth full of grease. He chewed, swallowed and considered her. "OK," he nodded, "I can see this is not going to go away. OK." He took a breath and let it out. "Harry's is where it all began." His voice was quiet. "When I started to accept things, when I realised I had to accept them... As they were." He waved his free hand at one ear. "I went into the city, by myself for the first time and, well, I got hungry. I wasn't sure I could manage a busy cafe or vendor, because of the ambient noise level, you know? It's hard to pick out sounds sometimes, and I hadn't tried on my own before." No, she didn't know, not really. God, how much she didn't know. "Anyway, I chickened out and started looking for some place less crowded. I went down an alley I hadn't seen before and there it was: Harry's! Oh, it was disgusting. Just filthy. Small and cramped, with a neon sign that flickered just like in all the best noir fiction, and I just... Mother would have had a fit if she knew." His lips slowly curled into a familiar grin as her horror grew. "It was awesome! Hey, I was eleven.

"Anyway, I went in. I was scared out of my mind, but I went in and there was this guy at the counter and he just stared at me like I was from outer space. Like I was the last person he expected to come through the door."

"And he would have been right, Castle. Oh my god, you were eleven! What were you thinking? Anything could have happened."

"I know." He grinned, warming to the story and clearly finding delight in her shock. "I know. See: awesome.

"Anyway, it turns out that he couldn't speak English very well, but he could read enough to get by. He had a chalk board for people to write their orders. It was perfect." He took a sip of water and looked down at his burger. "But, then I found out that he also didn't know how to make burgers. Turns out you can't learn to make one by looking at a black and white picture from an old magazine. The one he made me was disgusting. Just terrible. But, I went back the next day. A few days later, I went back again. I went back a lot."

"Didn't your mother wonder where you were? Your school?"

"It was summer vacation. And Mother? No. She didn't know. I was going down to the theatre district with her at the time, and hanging around backstage. Sometimes, when she was doing her show and it was safe, I snuck out."

"You? Never!" she said, thinking: safe?

"Don't interrupt the story Beckett," he said, his voice light with mock indignation. "Anyway, as I was saying before my character was so impugned: I snuck out, and I went to Harry's, a lot. I started to try to teach Mr Xiao, that was the guy, some spoken English. And he gave me free burgers. He gave me more than that though, Beckett: he gave me back some confidence in myself, some badly needed courage. And he was the first friend I made after I went deaf." He looked at her sharply, assessing what he saw. "He was the one who taught me to speak Chinese, Mandarin."

"OK. But, didn't he realise you were -" How on earth had he managed it? And Chinese was tonal wasn't it? How did he do it? Any of it?

"Deaf? He did after a while," Castle shrugged, "but he didn't seem to care. Just prodded me if I wasn't paying attention. And when I messed up a word or phrase. I got pretty bruised in the first week, until I learned how to pay attention."

"Huh, so that's where I have been going wrong."

"Ha ha." Castle smiled at her again, his expression becoming more relaxed, even affectionate. Then he sobered. "So, I thought it would be appropriate to have one of these hideously wonderful culinary creations - tonight."

"Needing some courage Castle? Baxter was pretty big - " Ok, she was pushing it now. Taking a risk on him needing the banter, the familiar cover of humor, to take the next step.

"No. Not because of Baxter." He put down his burger and wiped his hand on a napkin. He took a breath and let it out. "Beckett, before we go any further, there's something I have to talk to you about, but I'm not sure I - I'm not sure I-

"There's something-" He stopped and grimaced, frustrated when the words wouldn't come. But he tried again, voice now devoid of humour - "Alexis told me what happened yesterday. I am sorry you saw that, but I have been thinking that maybe it was meant to happen. I- I think, maybe, this is all happening because it's time it did. You know, like a sign from the universe that it's all right now, to tell someone. That I need to tell someone. Because I can't do it alone. Anymore."

Beckett stared at him. Her mind was racing to all sorts of places to try to deduce what he was hinting at. Dark places too. Her time in the NYPD held no shortage of horrors from which she could choose and his tone was sending her mind right down into those terrible places. It was unbearable. If even one of those nightmares had happened to him, it was just too -

"Beckett? Oh, no. Um. OK. I'm ok. I'm ok. I wasn't - This is not- I'm messing this up." He stood abruptly. "We need coffee. Coffee. Yes, coffee. Wait here. I'll be right back." And he was gone.

End of Chapter 16

A/N: I am SO sorry for the delays between chapters at the moment. I have had a neck injury that prevents me from spending time at the keyboard - sometimes for days at a time. I am getting treatment for it, and it should heal, but at times I just can't type. I hope that you will stick with me while I battle on. Please know that I am thinking about this story all the time and writing it in my head whenever I can't type. And typing when I can. I have Chapter 17 nearly ready to go and will post that in the next week - that is a promise. Thank you everyone - and let me know what you think!