Author's note: Sometimes the chapter that I put up might not be as long as some would prefer. Usually I stop when I have a natural break in the action (or homey coziness, depending on what the chapter is about). It's just the way I do things, sorry. I write in between working and doing house stuff or taking care of the real world. On the plus side, I do try to post more frequently to make up for the shorter chapters when I can.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Beckett had settled herself in the chair that she'd ended up sleeping in the night before while Castle napped. It was big and soft and covered in leather that was more than comfortable enough for her to read in. She was distracted, however, from her reading by Castle, who wasn't sleeping soundly like he had been last night. He wasn't exactly tossing and turning - she was pretty sure he hurt too much to do that - but even asleep it was clear he was in pain and the arm that he hadn't fallen asleep on was twitching every minute or so. When she first noticed, she'd set her reading aside, wondering if she should wake him up and give him a painkiller to help him sleep. She still had the ones that Cutter had given her for him, after all, and she was sure they'd knock him out enough to sleep. A different part of her, though, wondered if he might be dreaming about what had happened to him and wondered if there was a way to get that information from him while he was sleeping.

She didn't like to watch him like that, though, and eventually she leaned over and touched his arm.

"Castle…?"

He twitched again, pulling away in his sleep but unable to go anywhere due to the back of the couch and the pillows around his shoulders and head.

"Castle?"

The writer woke with a gasp of what sounded like fear to her, and another, more violent flinch at her touch. He sat up, quickly, and winced, but adrenaline was clearly keeping him upright and his eyes were wide open, now, his face pale and his expression dazed and confused in every way. She moved quickly, putting her hand on his chest to keep him pressed back against the couch and pillows rather than allowing him to maybe take a tumble that his sore arms wouldn't stop.

"Easy Rick…"

"Kate? You found me."

Which was definitely a repeating theme the last day or so. She didn't argue with him, instead, she tried a different tact this time.

"Yeah," she agreed, moving from the chair to the edge of the couch, balancing precariously there, but as close to him as she could get. "Where were you, Castle?"

"In a room," he answered, looking at her. His eyes were starting to focus a little, now, but she could feel his heart slamming against his chest, right below her hand. "In a room…"

"Where?"

"In the dark."

"Where was the room, Castle? Where did I find you?"

He shook his head, obviously trying to clear it.

"You didn't…" he whispered. "I waited for you to, but you never came for me…"

"Where were you?" She asked, her voice just as soft. "Do you know?"

"I was in a room," he repeated. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "There was a man… and a woman. They were arguing about something."

"Do you know what they were arguing about?" she asked.

"No. I couldn't hear." He forced himself more upright, and she helped him and then moved to sit beside him to keep him upright. Leaning against her a little, he looked over at her. "I was tied in a dark room… Maybe I was kidnapped?"

Beckett shook her head.

"That wouldn't make sense, though," she said, pulling the blanket back over him - and her - to try and warm him back up. He was shaking hard enough that the vibrations were making his teeth chatter.

"Why not?"

"Most kidnappers are after ransom. If you'd been kidnapped for ransom, they should have tried to contact your mom, or even me. We didn't even know you were gone."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "You don't remember being taken there? Seeing anything that might tell us where you were?"

"No." He stared off into the distance for a moment, and then suddenly moved, shrugging off the blanket and stumbling to his feet.

"Castle?"

"I need to get out of here."

"What?"

"I need to get out of here."

"And go where?" she asked. "Did you remember something we can-"

"No." He turned to look at her, and his expression was one she'd seen many times - but never on him. He was panicking - big time. "I just need-"

"Castle, you need to calm-"

"I need to go. I have to figure out what happened. I can't-"

She caught his arm as he took a step toward the door, and the grip forced him to turn back toward her.

"Castle."

"There has to be-"

"We'll figure it out," she promised him, using her most calming tone and trying to radiate that aura of assurance that most cops developed eventually. "But you need to calm down. We're not going to be able to figure anything out by just rushing out the door and-"

"We're not finding anything out here!" he snapped at her. He stopped, abashed, and she saw the panicked look fade just a little as he tried to think of a way to apologize for shouting at her.

"We have, though," she told him, her tone gentle and careful, her hand going from the grip on his arm down to hold his own hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "We learned for certain you were in a room, tied up. All we need to do now is figure out where it is and who put you there and why."

"That's all?" he asked, sarcastically. "I don't-"

"Hey," Beckett interrupted. "We'll figure it out. We always have before." Her free hand came up and her palm cupped his cheek. "We will. I promise."

He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

"I just want to know what happened…"

"I know. Come sit down?" There was a long pause, but he finally nodded and allowed her to walk him back to the couch and push him back down to the spot he'd abandoned so abruptly. She sat down beside him, and he put his head on her shoulder. Beckett reached out and managed to get the blanket around him again, but then she kept hold of him, hugging him closely, glad he was starting to calm down. He relaxed noticeably, and she stroked his hair as she held him. "Maybe we should try hypnosis…" she murmured, more to herself than to him.

His head came up, though, and he looked at her without pulling away from her embrace.

"Hypnosis? Really?"

She shrugged.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to end up clucking like a chicken every time someone sneezes…"

Beckett smiled, relieved that he was able to joke with her.

"I wouldn't let them do that to you. Just think about it, okay?"

He dropped his head back to her shoulder, not ready to give up the comfort she was offering, and closed his eyes - although he had no intention of going back to sleep. Ever.

"Okay."