a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed or favorited or followed this story so far! Sorry this took a bit longer than I expected, but here is chapter 2! The last chapter will be up either tomorrow (saturday) or Sunday.

Oh and happy valentines day!

Enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers for 7x14 and 7x15.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise.

It's been three days, and they still have yet to find a single clue about where she was, let alone if she was still alive. Castle believed with all of his heart that she was though, because he would know, he would feel, if Kate Beckett wasn't breathing out there somewhere. The moment her heart stopped beating in the ambulance that fateful day when she was shot, it felt like his entire world fell apart, and if it were to happen again, he would never be the same. The world would be darker, his sense of purpose would be gone, and he'd be perpetually lost.

Others weren't as confident.

"You may want to prepare yourself for the worst," Gates had said earlier that day, her eyes sympathetic as she touched his shoulder gently. He hadn't taken it well, shaking her off forcefully and storming out of her office. The boys tried to follow, calling out his name as he ran from the precinct, but the elevator doors closed before they could get to him.

He slammed his fist against an elevator wall, a wail escaping between his clenched lips. This was his fault. The dues he had with Tyson was between them, it shouldn't include Beckett. She didn't deserve this. This was his war; she'd already suffered through her own. She was finally happy, free, but now was in the hands of another mad man, all because he couldn't stop him all those years ago.

No one knew where she was so he'll have to find her himself and bring her home, even if it was the last thing he did.

Kate's head dropped back against the table with a huff of defeat. Her wrists ached from the constant strain she'd been putting on them since Kelly and Tyson disappeared at some point in the night, desperate to break free from her restraints before they came back. She'd almost had one undone before the warehouse door swung open and Tyson appeared, in his arms the body of a blonde girl. Amy.

No!

Kate gritted her teeth, kicking her leg forcefully back against the metal, creating a loud bang that resonated throughout the open space.

"Let her go, Tyson," She growled as he threw Amy in a chair beside her, his back blocking her from seeing if the girl was conscious, or alive. "You don't need to kill her!"

Tyson laughed maniacally, seeming pleased with himself as his eyes swept between the both of them. "Oh but I do," he grinned, motioning to Nieman as she walked in. "Just not for reasons you think."

As he stepped aside, Kate got a look at the girl, and her breath got caught in her throat.

She looked exactly like her.

Castle remembered the address from when Beckett first gathered details on Michael Boudreau, and, with renewed purpose, he ran from the elevator, all but jumping in the road to hail a cab before it drove past. It slammed on its breaks with a squeal of tires and a honk of its horn and Castle jumped in the backseat, flashing a hundred dollar bill at the driver before he could refuse him. The driver rolled his eyes as he asked for the address and took off again, muttering "lunatic" under his breath as he did so.

They got there in record time, and Castle threw in an extra fifty dollars, shouting his thanks as he jumped from the cab and approached the building cautiously. His hand reached around behind him to feel for the gun he had tucked in the back of his jeans, and took a deep breath, pushing the buzzer for every apartment in the complex apart from Tyson's, as he wanted the element of surprise, and waited until he heard a click.

Tyson's apartment was on the first floor, at the very end of the long hallway, and by the time he reached it, his hands were shaking and his breath was labored. After another reassuring pat of his gun to check it was still there, he knocked on the door. He could hear shuffling around inside, and a few seconds later the door cracked open an inch, Tyson peering out guardedly, and Castle snapped. He shoved the door vehemently with his knee, knocking it against Tyson's face and as the man fell against the floor, Castle walked in. A rush of satisfaction flowed through him when he saw Tyson bleeding from his eyebrow, the blood running down into his left eye, half blinding him.

"Where is she?" He growled, towering over him as Tyson scrambled backwards. "Is she alive?"

He ignored Tyson's shouts for help as he picked him up by his shoulders, nails purposefully digging into his skin as he threw him against a wall. Tyson struggled but Castle overpowered him easily, his arm coming up to dig into Tyson's neck. "Where is she!?" Castle roared in his face, pulling him back before pushing him harder into the wall.

"I told you! I don't know!" Tyson shouted desperately, his breath coming out in gasps as he struggled to breathe.

"Why are you doing this?" Castle gritted out, blinking back tears rapidly. "For revenge? Because she makes me happy?"

Tyson's hands moved from his grasp on Castle's arms to hold them up in front of them as if to surrender. "I told you, you've got the wrong guy."

With a snarl, Castle threw Tyson back on the ground, and pulled out his gun from his jeans and pointed it directly at the man.

"Tell me where she is, and I'll let you go."

Tyson looked terrified, his hands that were still raised in front of him were shaking and for a moment, Castle was confused. This weak, blundering man in front of him wasn't the Jerry Tyson he knew. The Jerry Tyson who was smart enough to have gotten away with murder for his entire life, to remove all evidence the police have on him, to fake his own death. Castle gripped the gun and took a step closer. Time to try a different angle.

"Okay, so you're not Tyson. You're still working with Nieman, and I bet you know where she's keeping my wife." He flicked the safety off the gun, Tyson's eyes widening at the sound. "This is your last chance. Where is she?"

Kate swallowed heavily, giving her arm three sharp tugs as Nieman and Tyson turned their back on her, biting back a cry as the rope rubbed against the welts covering her wrist, and broke a blister. She had to get out of there, she had to get out of there now.

Tyson turned around then, and she halted her movements, shrinking away from him as he stepped closer.

"They look identical," he smirked, his hand reaching up to brush against her cheek and Kate shook her head side to side, keeping him from touching her skin. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her neck, hard enough so she couldn't breathe, and with his other hand he slapped her. Dark spots danced around the edges of her vision and she slumped back, her head lolling to the side.

"Jerry!" Nieman's voice was furious. "What did we say about touching her face?"

Kate watched as Nieman moved from her crouching position beside Amy, and over to Tyson where she grabbed his wrist and yanked him away. Tyson shrugged, pressing his body up against the doctor, and kissed her. Kate looked away in disgust.

"I like it when you're rough with me baby," Tyson chuckled, and Nieman rolled her eyes.

"Don't touch her face. We had a deal."

Tyson moved from her side, waving his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. I get my revenge and you get your perfect science experiment."

Nieman grinned, her teeth gleaming in the low light, and Kate couldn't help a shiver run through her body.

What were they planning?

The second he opened the door to his apartment, Alexis jumped from the couch, rushing to his side. She'd been staying with him since Kate went missing, claiming it was to help but he knew she just wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Any news?" Her eyes were wide, hopeful, and it made everything that much worse. He side stepped around her, shaking his head as he did so, and headed for his room. Castle threw himself down on the bed, burying his head in his pillow as he muffled his screams of frustration. Tyson, or Michael, or whoever he was didn't tell him anything he needed to know, and in his rage, he knocked him out with the butt of the gun. He didn't stay to check what damage he had done, and he was too afraid to look. Consequences be damned, he wanted his wife back home now. Okay, so Michael wasn't Tyson, so why did he look like him? Why did he choose Jerry Tyson, infamous serial killer, as his inspiration when he got work done? Why did he even get work done in the first place? The man worked construction, and his apartment was a tiny rundown place in Clinton Hill, so how did he even afford it? He rolled over, throwing his hands up to his face to push the hair away from his forehead, exhaling loudly. He was missing some part of the story. His eyes fell shut, his brain desperately trying to make sense of everything.

Almost subconsciously, his hand reached out to Kate's side of the bed, and he thought for a second that if he wished it enough, maybe she would be there beside him, sleeping soundly. Safe. He sat up then, eyes opening to look down at the empty spot in the bed and he sighed. He shifted his body so he was sitting on the edge of Kate's side, his feet planting themselves on the floor, and reached for the top drawer of her nightstand, hoping to find the Polaroid picture Alexis had taken of them at their wedding, but he froze when he saw an item placed on the very top, wrapped in tissue.

No.

This couldn't be happening.

He reached for the stick, unwrapping it before picking it up, touching it like it could break apart between his fingers, and he stared at the symbol adorning the side. A little pink plus sign. He froze, his heart plummeting, air rushing out of his lungs and he didn't realise he'd dropped the stick until he heard it clatter to the ground at his feet. His hands moved to grip the edge of the nightstand, and a loud sob ripped from his throat.

Kate was pregnant.

For over an hour, Kate watched as they cut and colored Amy's hair, the girl still deeply unconscious. What was once long blonde hair was now short and a light brown shade, exactly like hers.

"Why are you doing this?" Kate whispered in horror once they were done, and looking at Amy, she felt like she was looking in the mirror.

"Because, my dear," Nieman said as she removed the plastic gloves from around her hands, dropping them into a bag on the small table beside her. "You are very important to Mr. Castle, and Jerry here wants nothing more than to see him suffer."

"But why include Amy? What does she have to do with it?"

Tyson and Nieman shared a smile. "I'm going to kill her," Tyson replied with a shrug, pulling a string of wire from his pocket. "And when Castle finds her, strangled to death, he'll think it's you, and that you're dead."

Kate couldn't hold back her cry of protest as she shook her body as hard as she could against her restraints, only stopping when she thought of the little baby growing inside her stomach. "No, please. Don't."

A loud shrill sounded out, and Nieman pulled a phone from her coat pocket. She answered, listened to whatever the voice on the other end had to say and hung up.

"They're close to figuring out where we are. We need to do this quickly."

Tyson grinned, clasping his hands together in glee.

"Showtime," he hollered dramatically, untangling the wire in his hands as he approached Amy.

Castle stumbled back into the precinct an hour later, his chest aching and his throat dry, as he made his way over to the boy's desks, collapsing down on a chair Ryan hastily offered to him. Esposito scooted across from his desk to Castle's side, slapping a hand against his back in welcome.

"Castle, so glad you're here man. We were just about to call. We thought we should look more into this Michael guy, because he was picked to look like Tyson for a reason right? So we-" He trailed off when he realized Castle didn't seem to be taking in anything he was saying, and he shot Ryan a look.

Ryan sat down on the edge of his desk, his hand reaching out to shake his shoulder.

"Castle?"

Castle leaned back against the chair but his eyes remained on the floor.

"Beckett," he rasped out, stopping to grind his teeth together as he swallowed back bile, "she's… uh-" He shook his head, eyes falling shut as his fingers came up to dig into his sockets, rubbing them roughly. "She's pregnant."

Besides a low exhale and a quiet "shit" from Esposito, the boys were silent for a moment.

"Did you- did you know? Before she-" Ryan's eyes shifted to the murder board, Beckett's picture with the words "missing" written beneath taunting them all.

Castle shook his head. "No, I just found out. I don't know when she took the test but... I found it in her bedside drawer."

"Oh Castle," Esposito muttered, a comforting hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "We're going to find her."

Castle nodded slowly, his hands falling to his lap and he turned to the murder board.

"What were you saying, about Michael?" he asked, eyes running over the information they added since he left earlier. "What have you found?"

Without a beat, Esposito began to fill him in.

"Ryan and I went to talk to some of the guys Michael works with on his current construction and they all didn't recognize the picture of him, until we showed them Tyson. Turns out, he only just started the job."

Castle nodded, wheels turning in his head.

"Where was he before?"

Ryan jumped in, handing him a folder with a triumphant smile.

"That's what we wondered. We pulled up his records, and he used to work with another construction company in New Jersey, before there was an accident."

"What happened?" Castle sat forward in his chair, flicking through the file in his hands. There were photos of Michael, his nose disfigured, a large cut running down the entire right hand side of his face, causing his eye to droop.

"A large piece of iron roof sheathing came down and messed up his face," Esposito answered.

Castle's eyes widened. "Let me guess, Nieman was his plastic surgeon?"

"Bingo," Ryan replied, his grin matching Esposito's.

"Do you know where the accident happened?"

Esposito shook his head, swivelling his chair around to face his computer. "Not yet, but get this. They stopped working on the place after it happened, said it was too dangerous. Report's say nothing's been done to the place since."

Castle exhaled, placing the folder on Ryan's desk carefully. "That's where they're keeping her."

"We can't say for sure-"

"It is, it has to be," Castle interrupted, his voice strong and assured.

"Castle," Ryan murmured, "we don't-"

"I got it!" Esposito shouted, spinning around. "We've got an address. Let's go."