Kevin shifted his weight from side to side, flinching against the searing pain in his right shoulder. He opened his eyes to an almost empty unfamiliar room. He was curled up in the corner of the room, holding his right arm to try to ease the pain.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, trying to regain enough strength to stand. He looked around the small room, noticing a small brass bed in the opposite corner. His vision was blurry; it wouldn't allow him to pick out all of the details.
He sat up, cradling his arm, wincing from the pain. It must be dislocated, he thought. He couldn't remember how he got there, but he remembered falling. He wasn't sure if it was down a flight of stairs or while running in the woods, but from the amount of pain he was in, Kevin knew he fell hard.
His head hurt. Maybe somebody hit him or drugged him. He had no idea, but he knew one thing: his gun and badge were missing. He had to figure out a way out of the room, because who knows who put him in there and who knows when they would be back.
Kevin didn't want to be there when they got back. Who kidnaps a New York City detective? They had to know they would get caught, that his partner would know that he was missing and come looking for him.
He surveyed the room once more, a small camera hung from the ceiling just above the door, which looked like it was made of reinforced steel with a small opening two-thirds of the way down, roughly four inches high and twelve wide. There were no windows, only a small vent in the wall and that brass bed.
It was a small bed, old fashioned, higher than normal, a twin maybe, with a single sheet pulled over the mattress and a green army-type blanket folded over the foot board. The more he stared at it, the more he thought that he noticed small movements.
"Hello," he whispered. No response.
He pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the wall, silently screaming in pain. He closed his eyes tight and took several deep breaths to gain some control over the pain. Opening his eyes, he focused on the bed, and had to squint to make out what he thought he was seeing.
Through his blurred vision he could see the body of a small woman sprawled on the bed. He didn't recognize her at first. He regained his legs and walked towards her.
The closer he got to the bed, the more he could make out flowing red hair everywhere, but he couldn't see her face. He carefully brushed the hair away and was shocked at his discovery.
"What the hell? Alexis?" he gasped.
She was unconscious, and he quickly checked for a pulse, relieved that he found one. What the hell was she doing here? What was going on? Who would kidnap Alexis Castle? He could see how he would end up in this predicament, with all the slime bags he'd sent to jail, but Alexis—she was an innocent in the world.
He examined her closely. She didn't appear to be suffering from any injuries, no cuts or abrasions that he could see. Her breathing seemed to be even, and she looked like she had been sleeping when she'd been kidnapped. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He sat on the edge of the bed and quietly thanked God that she seemed to be alright.
He didn't want to wake her; he didn't want to deal with all the questions he was sure she'd have. Questions for which he had no answers—the same questions that were currently running through his own mind.
His hand nudged her arm. Nothing. He nudged a little harder, still nothing. Maybe whoever captured them had drugged her.
Dammit, why did she have to be here? He had enough to worry about, trying to get himself out of whatever the hell this was so he could get back to his family. Now he had to worry about getting her out, too. Castle would kill him if any harm came to Alexis.
He stood and walked around the bed, glaring at the camera that hung from the ceiling, "Someone wanna come in here and tell me what's going on?" Kevin demanded, "What do you want with us?"
He loosened his tie and yanked it over his head, tossing it on the bed next to his best friend's sleeping daughter.
He thought he heard a commotion outside the door. The slot slid open, someone tossed two bottles of water through, and they hit the floor.
Okay, Kevin thought, it seems they want us alive.
The slot slammed shut and once again there was nothing but silence.
He picked up a bottle and examined it closely. It was unopened, so he figured why not. He twisted the cap and took a long sip, feeling the cool liquid slip down his throat.
A tiny movement caught his eye. Alexis was moving; she was waking up.
He moved closer and sat beside her. "Alexis," he whispered.
Her eyes fluttered open and closed again, she must be dreaming.
All of a sudden, her eyes shot open. She jumped away from him, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly.
She looked so confused, and he couldn't blame her really.
He held his hands up as he started to speak.
"Alexis, whoa. Calm down—it's me."
She quickly scanned the room, wondering where she was and what was happening.
Detective Ryan was perched on the bed in front of her. Did he have something to do with this? Why was she here? She opened her mouth to speak his name, but nothing came out.
She sat there, curled up in the fetal position, trying to hear what he was saying to her. She closed her eyes tight; maybe she was having a nightmare. She felt a hand softly touch her arm and she opened her eyes once more.
This time she heard him.
"Alexis, it's me okay, it's okay."
"De–Detective Ryan?" she stammered. It almost sounded like she was asking for confirmation.
"Yeah, Kevin remember?" He offered her the water bottle.
She nodded. "Where are we? What's going on?"
"I wish I knew. I woke up a few minutes ago." He motioned to the corner of the room, where he had slept.
"What's the last thing that you remember?" he questioned.
"Um, I'm not sure. I was home, I think, watching a movie." She put her hand to her head. "I have a terrible headache."
"Yeah, me too."
"How did they get us here? Were we drugged or what?"
"I wish I knew, but if they went through all this trouble to make this happen, then they want us alive for something," Kevin stated.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Alexis gave him a half smile.
"It's gonna be okay. I'm sure by now your dad and Beckett have noticed that you're gone, and Jenny knows that I didn't come home last night. I'm sure they are looking for us right now," Kevin assured her.
"What's wrong with your arm?" She noticed he had been favouring it.
"I think it's popped out of its socket," he confessed.
"Ouch. If that's the case, we need to pop it back in."
"Ah no, that's fine thanks."
"Oh come on, it will only hurt for a second. It will feel much better once it's fixed, I promise." She sat up on her knees.
"Alexis, are you sure that you know what you're doing?"
"Yes. Dad researched it for a book once," she beamed. Sensing some hesitation, she added, "Or you could just sit there in pain until we are rescued."
He rolled his eyes, "Fine."
"Lay down," she directed. "Move your arm out as if you were going to hang it over the bed."
He did as he was told.
She held his hand, keeping his arm perfectly level with the rest of his body.
"This may hurt a little, but only for a minute, okay?"
Kevin nodded and closed his eyes.
Alexis began to slowly pull his arm away from his body.
"Slow and steady movements are what you need to coax this back into its proper resting place," Alexis spoke as if she were teaching a class—cool, calm, and collected.
Kevin felt the pressure build and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, he yelped, "Alexis, please."
"There, all done." She placed his arm across his chest, patting it gently.
He lay still for a few moments, feeling the pain start to subside.
"Son of a gun," he smiled "It worked."
"You doubted me."
"No, not at all. You are most definitely your dad's daughter," Kevin said, sitting up and climbing off of the bed. "Thanks"
"I'd like to say anytime, but honestly I hope that I never have to do that again."
They heard a loud click. Someone was unlocking the door. Kevin stood in front of Alexis as she tried to peek over his shoulder.
The door swung open to reveal a small man of about six feet, no more than a hundred and sixty pounds. Kevin's first instinct was to fight the man, but he felt Alexis grab onto his shirt from behind. He couldn't put her in that position.
"Who are you, and what do you want with us?" Kevin questioned the man.
"All in due time, my friends. I merely stopped by to make sure that your accommodations were up to your satisfaction. Is there anything that I can get for you?"
"Let us go." Kevin motioned towards the door.
"I'm afraid that's not possible at this time Detective Ryan, but if you two cooperate without hesitation you will be returned to your families soon. You have my word."
"Your word? You've gotta be kidding me," Kevin laughed.
"I assure you, Detective, it is not my intent to harm you or Miss Castle. I just need to set a few things in motion, and like I said you will be returned unharmed—depending, of course, on the level of cooperation that I receive from you and the young lady."
"Cooperation for what?"
"All in due time, Detective. For now, maybe you and the young lady should get some sleep. You've both had a long day."
He slammed the door shut and was gone.
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