As they grappled with one another to get the upper hand, Gemma's fear grew for Rick's safety at the murderous glint in Tyson's eyes… She stood up on wobbly legs and a strangled, "No! Stop!" left her lips.

Her cry was all the distraction Tyson needed. Rick glanced towards her and it gave J.T. the perfect opening… A ferocious growl bubbled from deep within his chest and he ducked his head down and barreled it right into Rick's wound, shoving with all his strength.

Castle fell backwards in horrendous agony right on his ass, grasping his battered side.

Gemma stared transfixed, unable to move, as Tyson pulled out a tranquilizer dart from his back pocket and slammed it into his bicep.

Before Rick succumbed to unconsciousness, J.T. said viciously, "It's time to send Detective Beckett another pint of your blood."

...

Why is it so difficult to open my eyes?

'Beep Beep. – Beep Beep.'

A soft beeping rang from a monitor close by.

He felt Gemma's breath on his ear and then her light voice caressed him.

"You MUST survive for Becker."

Becker? I must have misheard her. She must have meant Beckett.

Rick tried to move his arms but only his fingers twitched. His back hurt from lying flat on the metal table for hours on end… Or was it his side that hurt like hell? It was difficult to tell as the pain had spread from one local area to his entire body.

Her voice wound its way through his ear and soothed his senses.

"I've seen him, Rick. He's the spitting image of you with your forehead, your nose, that dimpled chin, those full lips."

His eye lashes fluttered but still stayed closed as her hand smoothed over his eyebrow and down the side of his face.

"He has Alexis's hair color and Katherine's eyes… Her eyes."

'Beep Beep. – Beep Beep.'

He drifted back asleep as she whispered humorously in his ear, "Kate gripes that it's so unfair that she had to carry him for 9 months, getting as big as a house, and he looks exactly like a Rogers with only 1 distinguishing Beckett trait… She whines that if you put her in a line-up with other Mother's that no one would accuse her of being Becker's Mom… But deep down, she's secretly thrilled that he's a mini-you. She loves that no one could ever say he doesn't belong to you. She loves that everyone can see they both belong to you… He binds you two forever."

Her hand roved over the stubble on his jaw line.

"He's precocious, inquisitive, and loves comic books as much as you do." She laughed then, - light and airy. "Katherine can't get him to wear normal clothes because he has 6 different super hero costumes to choose from. His favorite is Batman and she has to hide it occasionally just to get him to change into something else."

"He dotes on his sister, relishes the time he spends with her. Alexis loves to take him outdoors where he can run around pretending to catch bad guys."

Gemma's face scrunched up in worry. "Are you hearing me, Rick? - He has your face and Kate's heart, and he's going to make you happier than you've ever been in your life… Come back. Open your eyes. Open them up for your son."

….

His eyes shot open and then squinted at the bright, overhead light. His chest and legs were restrained by a large strap that held him securely to the table. He felt a familiar squeeze around his left bicep that was a bit uncomfortable but not painful. Two circular pads were also pressed onto his chest with a thin wire coming from each of them.

'Beep Beep. – Beep Beep.'

The annoying beeping finally registered to Rick as a heart monitor. The blood pressure cuff deflated and shrunk back on his arm.

Oh thank God, I'm in the hospital. Kate must have found us.

A female figure in white circled the room and he naturally assumed it was a nurse. "I need to speak with Detective Beckett," he rasped, his throat extremely dry. "I would have been brought in with a woman, Gemma Goodwin. Is she alright?"

His left hand was suddenly engulfed by hers and she stroked the fingers lovingly. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm right here… I'm grateful you're awake, Rick… Don't scare me like that again, okay?"

"Gemma?"

"Yes."

"I'm having problems, - " his eyes turned her direction, "Focusing."

She didn't say anything for a moment and then cautiously replied, "I think it's a side effect of the anesthesia Tyson's given you. It should wear off, - given time." But the uncertainty in her voice betrayed that she wasn't positive about it.

"What did the Doctor say?" His lips quirked sheepishly. "Did Tyson do irreparable damage, or is this handsome mug going to be around to annoy you for another day?"

"You'd better be around to annoy me for several more days, Mr. Castle," she teased.

She squeezed his hand, hating with every fiber of her being that she was going to be the one to dash his hopes. "We haven't been saved, Rick… We're still trapped in this awful place, - with him."

His heart literally sank at the knowledge and a defeated, "Oh," passed through his lips.

The anesthesia was certainly doing a number on him as he felt almost displaced, unable to catch his bearings.

"How long have I been out?"

Gemma answered meekly, "For several hours. I'm guessing it's late afternoon… I expected Katherine to show up by now." Her fingers moved from his hand and rubbed along his forearm nervously. "I'm worried that it's taking her so long."

He could imagine the pretty-little-worried-pout that undoubtedly lined her face right now.

He smiled encouragingly through the pain. "Try not to worry. I have faith in my brilliant Detective."

"I know you do," and if he could've seen her face right then, he would've realized just how utterly broken she felt at that moment.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, not wanting to focus on her own despair.

"Like I just got run over by a speeding bus."

At her harsh intake of breath, he quickly continued, "But hey, it could be worse… Tyson could've cut off a body part." He chuckled, "And one that I'd certainly like to keep."

Her lips lifted as she silently wondered how he could still find humor in such a grim situation. "That's one of the reasons I L – like you so much... Because you always look on the bright side of things."

Thank God he didn't comment on her slip as she couldn't handle hearing any declarations from him, - guilt ridden or otherwise.

His voice deepened, filled with anxiety… "What did Tyson do to you while I was out?"

"Hmm," she hesitated, not comfortable giving him any details. "I must be getting used to him, - umm, - molesting me because it didn't work." Her fingers stopped trailing along his arm. "I didn't slip into unconsciousness."

The air was thick with tension with what was left unsaid, - the brutal torment she experienced with Tyson's elaborate, kinky methods… Where she'd actually prayed for oblivion, but it never came.

"God Gemma," and his voice filled with hatred towards their captor. "You should've let me kill him when I had the chance."

"Believe me," she said, completely devoid of all emotion, trying to hide from him the state she was currently in. "No one's second-guessing that decision more than I."

She backed away from him, chewing the inside of her cheek to shreds as she glanced out the dirty window.

"Promise me something," and the fear in her voice made his heart palpitate. "Promise me that you'll hang on until Katherine gets here."

"Hey, you don't need to be concerned about me, remember? I'm as tough as they come. I'm not going to let that deviant bastard kill me. I have too much to live for."

"You do, Rick. You have so much to live for."

She wondered if it really was her place to tell him of Katherine's pregnancy, but she ultimately decided that he needed to know about Becker as he could be the catalyst in keeping his father alive.

"Do you remember anything I said to you while you were unconscious?"

"A little… Something about living for someone."

"Yes, I have amazingly wonderful news, … Katherine's – "

The door swung open and by the thick heavy tread of his footsteps, Rick knew it was Tyson.

She somehow found the nerve to stand still and not shrink from him. She looked directly into his cold eyes while every fiber of her being screamed at her to put some distance between them, - get away from his wretched hands.

Her voice, filled with emotion, floated over Rick. "He's lost enough blood, J.T. You need to allow me to sew him back up."

"How touching," he droned. "Always so concerned for him… I'll never understand what you see in him… Castle's an arrogant, egotistical man who happened to get very lucky when Black Pawn published his first book." His eyes surprisingly softened as he noticed her frightened demeanor. "Do you know the type of man he was before he met Detective Beckett?"

"I've heard the rumors," she said meekly, wondering where J.T. was going with this line of questioning.

"He was a raunchy playboy, - a wealthy womanizer who was always on the lookout for the next party to attend." He walked behind her and placed his hands on her head, forcing her eyes to look at Castle. "Just look at him, Gemma. He slept with hundreds of slutty women. He chose the most curvaceous, willing bimbos he could find. He was someone," his voice dropped, "You would've stayed away from at all costs."

"He's right." Rick surprised them both by speaking up. "You wouldn't have liked the person I was before I met Kate… She changed me, - made me infinitely better."

"She wouldn't have been able to influence you if you weren't already inherently good… The difference between him and you, J.T. is that he's always had a good heart. Deep down, Rick is truly a decent, unselfish man who's willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones whereas you - … " She locked onto his emotionless eyes and stopped speaking as she just couldn't bear the brunt of his wrath one more time.

"Whereas I?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "It doesn't matter."

"Finish it," he commanded. "Or I leave him bleeding out on the table."

"Whereas your heart," Gemma continued softly, "Shriveled up and died the moment your mother committed suicide and left you alone as a small child."

"So intuitive," and his hand caressed down the side of her cheek. Gemma's legs trembled as he drew away from her.

The fog over Rick's eyes finally started to clear. He noticed that the metal bed he was strapped to was actually tilting downwards a bit. He couldn't move his right arm at all and come to think of it, his fingers felt numb. His pupils dilated when he noticed the blood streaming down his wrist, onto his palm, past his fingers and into a plastic, sterile donation bag.

Oh hell, Tyson sliced my wrist.

"You've already sent a pint of his blood to Detective Beckett," Gemma continued. "You don't need more. Ple – ase."

She was grateful that Rick couldn't see what it was costing her to beg as she literally had to swallow down bile and force a gracious smile to her lips when her only desire was to spit disdainfully in J.T.s face.

"Please let me stitch his wrist back up."

"I'll let you on one condition," and surprisingly there was no malice in his tone. "I want you to read him again."

"But I read him at the Luminescence Lounge less than a month ago and you listened to that reading. It would be extremely similar to then."

His eyebrow quirked in disbelief. "His future's changed. Both you and I know it will be different now. "

She knew in her heart that Tyson was hoping she'd pull the 'death card,' and if she were completely honest with herself, she was frightfully scared that she might too.

"Do it, Gemma," Rick's voice called to her and she turned to him with anxiousness radiating from her beautiful features.

She shook her head slightly side to side, but Rick's ocean blue gaze pleaded with her to agree.

"I'll turn over 3 cards, no more J.T.," she said with utter clarity. "And that's only if you also let me read for you too."

"No. That's not the deal."

Rick chuckled darkly then, - deep and low. "Afraid what she might see, Tyson? - I never pegged you as 'Chicken shit' but if the shoe fits…"

Rick's dig had the exact effect he was looking for… Tyson's face turned a light shade of pink and he agreed brashly in the heat of the moment. "Fine. You can read us both."

Tyson grabbed a rolling tray and moved it to the side of Rick's bed. He then pulled away from the wall a plastic folding chair and opened it up, placing it in front of the tray.

"Sit."

Rick noticed that when he touched her shoulders to place her in the chair, her eyes darkened in disgust.

"Do you have my cards?"

"Yes, they're right here." He pulled them out of his back pocket and tossed them onto the tray.

She gathered them up quickly and with deft fingers began shuffling them. "It won't work properly unless Rick cuts the deck. I need to remove the strap from his chest."

"No. Let him use his left hand."

"It has to be the dominate hand for the most accurate reading."

He gazed into her eyes trying to assess if she was telling the truth and gratefully, he didn't see any deception in their deep blue depths.

"Fine, but just hold the deck up to his hand and let his fingers cut it."

"He'll get blood all over the cards."

"Gem! Just do it."

Her eyes flitted down at the deck as she shuffled. Gawd, I don't know how many times I should shuffle.

"Quit stalling."

She shuffled twice more and then leaned towards Rick. She held the deck in the palm of her left hand and with her right hand placed his bloody fingers on top of the deck. "Feel the deck, Rick."

"Yes."

"Cut them please."

'Cut them shallow,' she repeated over and over again in her mind.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he took only about 10 cards off the deck. Gemma's eyes connected with his and his pinky finger glided along her hand before she placed the 10 cards on the bottom of the pile.

She sat with a straight back in the folding chair and placed the cards on the tray. She reluctantly turned over the first one. An older gentleman stood in a gray cloak huddling from the surrounding storm.

Her eyes lit up before she said, "Your father, Rick, has been keeping tabs on you all these years. His job is extremely dangerous so he's chosen to stay away from your family to keep you safe. He's recently heard of your kidnapping and is searching for you."

"My Dad?" he asked incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No," and her dazzling smile confirmed she was telling the truth. "I'm not kidding." She picked the card up and looked intently at it before saying, "Currently, he's far away from the United States… I believe somewhere in Europe but he'll be here within a day to continue his hunt for you."

Tyson scoffed, "Too bad he won't make it in time. I think I would've enjoyed seeing the sappy father, son reunion."

Rick's face twitched in righteous anger. Damn the man.

"Will I get to meet him?" he asked with more than a hint of curiousness.

"I'm sorry," and her eyes moistened. "I honestly don't know."

At Tyson's harrowing chuckle she turned to him with unbridled passion, "You'd better hope his father doesn't find you before Katherine does as he will not show you any mercy."

"Turn over another card."

Don't turn over the Grim Reaper, she silently prayed.

The next card reflected an elderly woman in a flowing gown with an older child standing in front of her.

"Your mother is holding Alexis close to her. She refuses to let her out of her sight. They're both comforting one another during this difficult time. They both," and her voice caught as tears filled the back of her throat, "refuse to give up on you and have full faith in Katherine that she will bring you back home to them."

"Oh, how touching," Tyson sneered. "How nice it must be to have a mother safe and sound at home praying for her dear son's return."

Before he could insult Rick further, Gemma said, "I'm only turning over 1 more card."

"You'll turn over more if I say so."

"That's not the agreement."

"I have the fuckin' right to change the deal… If you want the needle and thread to stitch him up, you'll do what I say."

"It's alright. Do what he asks," Rick said sincerely and as his eyes caught hers, he could see the fear in their depths that one of the following cards wouldn't bode well for him.

When she touched the next card a vision of Elektra filled her mind… She had striking eyes, long brown curls, wearing the typical red spandex costume, but instead of sais on her hip she held a red-headed baby boy with unusual green eyes that matched hers.

When she turned the card over, a beautiful young woman holding a newborn baby graced the cover. Her lips lifted in recognition of Kate having their son but she refused to give Tyson that priceless knowledge.

Instead, she chose to lie and with a delightful tone of voice said, "Much to your chagrin, Alexis will be a young mother. - You grumble to Kate that you're too blasted young to be a Grandpa and she teases you by saying you could easily win the 'hottest grandparent' award."

Even though it was a blatant lie, Gemma felt a spark of happiness that her words put such a cheeky grin on his face. She didn't think she'd seen him smile with such joy since the night she'd met him.

Her heart ached that she wouldn't be the one person to consistently put that smile on his face.

"Tell me the name of the boy who gets her knocked up so I can scare him senseless when I first meet him."

"Sorry," she said a touch bashfully, "Just like I couldn't tell you who Elektra is, I can't tell you who fathers your grandbaby."

"Uh-huh," and his grin got even wider, if that was at all possible. "And you call yourself a psychic."

And there he was again, - being all adorable and just plain desirable and -

She berated herself for having feelings for a taken man.

After Tyson watched their flirty repertoire, his hand slammed down on the tray, disturbing the cards. "Turn over another card. Right now."

She started upon hearing his distinct voice… How in the world had she forgotten that Tyson was in the room? She pushed back the thought that she'd gotten lost in Rick's lush baby blues and super sexy smile… She'd forgotten for a minute where she was because her mind needed the escape, needed to feel free for just a moment and that brief respite gave her a new-found courage that she thought J.T. had crushed.

I will not let him break me. "Hand me the needle and thread and I will."

Tyson's exasperation could be clearly felt but he still walked to the cupboard and pulled from it a stitching needle and thread.

"I'll turn over two more cards if you'll also allow me to give him pain medication."

"Stop testing me."

"You wouldn't keep me around if you didn't enjoy my smart mouth."

"You know exactly what I enjoy."

She tried not to let his words affect her but a hideous memory of what he did enjoy popped into her mind and left her feeling dirty, … disgusted, … defeated.

"Gemma," Rick's voice called to her. "Concentrate on me and not on him, okay?… Remember what I told you last night."

'You are going to rise above this. He will not defeat your beautiful soul.'

Her head bobbed up and down but it ripped his heart out seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes.

His brain ran a mile a minute as he looked at her crestfallen expression… How does someone come back from this type of horrific abuse?

And Rick hated his author's brain at that moment as it responded with, 'She won't. She'll be irreparably damaged. The only escape for her is death.'

He looked at her sweet, compelling eyes that drew you to her like a honey bee to a blooming flower. They revealed at any given moment exactly what she was feeling… He smiled internally as she still radiated goodness, gentleness, and even innocence.

As she turned the 4th card over revealing a man at a desk, Rick vowed that while he was still alive, death was not an option for the alluring Heiress.

"Your career will continue to flourish throughout the rest of your life."

"And how much longer will that be?" Tyson asked chillingly.

"I have no idea."

She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying, 'Hopefully longer than you,' as she knew it would only add fuel to the simmering fire.

She went to turn over the 5th and last card but an ominous feeling engulfed her. Her fingers shook as she reached for the card, so before picking it up, she placed her palm on top of it.

Shit No! It's the death card.

Her arm immediately swiped across the pile of cards, scattering them across the floor. "I'm done playing your games."

His smile was positively wicked. "You're done, are you?"

"Yes," she said with conviction, trying not to cower away from him.

"What was the next card?"

"I don't know. I didn't turn it over." She continued boldly, "I'm going to sew up his wrist now because you owe me."

"Remember who's in charge here."

"Remember who kept you alive, J.T."

Tyson's eyes were thoughtful as he looked at her creamy white skin and captivating eyes. "She can be very persuasive, Castle, can't she?" His hand swiped beneath her blond waves and rubbed her neck sensuously.

"Hurry up then as he's looking pretty peaked." He kissed the tip of her earlobe before whispering, "You know you can't save him, don't you? … But it's so fun to watch you try."

As she threaded the long, 2 inch stitching needle, Tyson simpered, "If you stay in my good graces, I may actually let you live longer than him."

She turned plangent eyes Rick's way, hating that she was going to inflict such pain on him. "Rick, I'm sorry, but this is going to be extremely painful."

"I know," and he flashed her a soft smile. "Go ahead."

He couldn't suppress a yelp of pain as the needle entered his tender flesh. He gritted his teeth together but his hand started shaking uncontrollably as she continued to sew the flesh together.

She stopped for a moment and smoothed her fingertips above the wound, trying to ease some of his pain, but Tyson's cold laughter flit down her neck and chilled her to the bone, stopping her ministrations.

As her eyes cascaded over Rick's, her own heart twisted in pain as she read the exact same troubled thought in his mind that was also on hers… 'Where are you, Kate?'