Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional, uncompensated, or are in the public domain.

"Hey guys," Beckett calls out to her teammates several days later, "I need to take off. Doctor's appointment," she offers with a shrug, figuring that's a nice, benign explanation that won't subject her to follow-up questions. It also has the advantage of being true, in a way.

"Wish I did," Esposito replies, sighing in frustration as he attends to the paperwork on the case they just closed, another heartbreaking example of the devastation that can be wrought by jealousy and rage.

"Before you go…," Ryan answers, then jerks his head to get draw her near.

Beckett starts the shutdown process on her computer before walking over to Ryan's desk with forced casualness.

"She moved," he says quietly, tapping a knuckle on his computer monitor. Looking there, Beckett recognizes the address of her former captain. "Just before the loft sold," he continues, answering the question Beckett hadn't asked.

"Did you try to find her?" Beckett asks in a whisper, worried about what Ryan's done.

"No," he answers while Esposito shakes his head, apparently already involved in this inquiry. "Don't want to draw any attention."

"Good," Beckett answers in relief. "Bet I know who bought it, though."

"I have names," Ryan answers, tapping the screen again. "But I haven't looked into them for the same reason. Besides," he adds with a disbelieving nod of his head, "the buyer paid cash. For a house," he marvels. "Even as a cop, if someone offered me a big pile of cash for my place, I wonder how hard I'd look at their identification…"

"Bad call," Beckett replies automatically. "Not sure IA would be too keen on that," she tries to joke as she turns to leave.

"One other thing," Ryan says, stalling her retreat and catching her attention. Switching to another tab in his web browser, Ryan nods towards the screen again. "Remember that website I showed you before, the one with the video about Castle cancelling his book signing?"

"The one where Paula started the car accident rumor," Beckett nods.

"Right. Well, according to this, Castle's doing a big book signing out in California the week after next."

"So?" Esposito asks. "He's probably running low on cash, needs to pump up the book sales."

"Doubt it," Ryan replies, and Beckett agrees.

"You're thinking this is like the Haunt, aren't you?" Beckett asks, watching Ryan nod. "The 'rock-solid alibi.' You think he's put something on the calendar to draw attention."

"Yeah," Ryan answers. "Got no clue what he's up to, though."

Beckett nods in agreement before looking at the watch on her wrist and sighing. She offers her thanks, then ponders these development as she collects her things and departs. Honestly, she's got more than enough to think about already, things she really should be putting in order before her 'doctor's visit,' but she can't divert her attention. She's got no idea what Castle's doing in California. And as for Evelyn, reaching out to her must've been one of Castle's first moves after leaving the hospital this summer. She can almost picture him in some studiously bland and sterile hospital room, his body immobilized and wrapped in bandages but his mind working furiously as he plots out his crusade just as assiduously as he'd plot a novel.

In some ways, she ponders, Castle's life has perfectly prepared him for a quest like this. Between the theoretical application of his writing and the practical experience at the precinct, he's got an unusual set of skills. And, damn him, he was right on that terrible day at the Haunt – they haven't found any trace of him, his friends, or his money.

She's still thinking about how that initial meeting with Evelyn must've gone, where it might've happened (because Castle certainly wouldn't have led anyone to her), when she parks her cruiser and makes her way to the elevator. Long before she's mentally ready, she's entering Dr. Burke's office.

"Detective Beckett," Burke greets as she seats herself, sounding a little more direct than usual.

"Hello, Dr. Burke," she replies, her formality a reaction to his unusually brusque tone.

Burke surveys her briefly over his tented fingers before wading in. "These sessions only work if you take them seriously. You've been withholding information that feels important to your development and now you're skipping appointments. I'd hope you'd at least have the courtesy to cancel in advance so I can use that time for other patients."

So this week's going to be about tough love, apparently, Beckett finds herself thinking. Fine, but that's a two-way street.

"I was negotiating a hostage situation," she offers blandly, as if this is a regular occurrence, "and dealing with the aftermath. I apologize for not calling," she says with stilted formality, "but those events commanded all of my attention."

"The bank robbery?" Burke asks in surprise. "That was you?" When Beckett nods, he looks confused. "I thought there were no casualties."

"I wasn't there as a homicide detective," she answers. "The robbers," she explains, using a simple descriptor for the perpetrators who weren't really bank robbers in the popular conception of that term, "recognized Castle among the hostages and would only talk to me."

"So, your partner was held hostage and you were forced to handle the negotiation?" Burke asks in disbelief. "I apologize for my comment," he offers quickly. "I can appreciate those needs coming first, but I'm surprised you waited so long to come in afterwards. Are you okay?"

Beckett nods, though 'okay' isn't really how she'd describe herself these days. "I'm okay," she replies, "but it's not something I'm sure we can talk about."

Her comment clearly catches Burke short. "Is this an issue of trust, or comfort, or…"

"It's a professional and ethical issue," Beckett answers, going immediately to the point that's bothered her deeply since the bank situation. Much to her shock, she'd like to work through more issues with Dr. Burke. But how is she supposed to talk about kidnapping, torture, or whatever Castle might be doing to protect his family? "My review of the APA Code of Ethics suggests that the confidentiality of our sessions is subject to your reporting requirements."

"True," Burke replies, concerned by this turn of the discussion but impressed with her diligence. "I'm ethically bound to report any discussions that include inflicting or being the victim of child or elder abuse," he explains to confirm Beckett's understanding, "or if I believe a situation to pose a serious threat to my patient or others."

Beckett's nodding along, but she knows his requirements extend further. "And if you're not sure about whether something needs to be reported, the Code requires you to consult with colleagues or a professional association to determine your reporting obligations, correct?"

"Yes, that's true," Beckett agrees. "Though I don't typically find myself wrestling with uncertainty," he offers with a small grin, trying to instill some confidence in his patient.

"Bet I can challenge that," Beckett offers in reply, though she appears to be talking to herself. When Burke raises a brow to prompt her to elaborate, she instead remains quiet.

"You're convinced that whatever's bothering you would trigger my reporting requirements?"

"I am," Beckett replies tersely. "There's too much at stake, too many things that can go wrong. I'm not going to give them anything more to work with."

"Them?" Burke asks.

Annoyed with what she can already imagine to be thoughts of paranoid delusions, Beckett snaps at her therapist. "Yes, them. The case that led to my shooting is still open. Five conspirators are dead and we know there are more. This is a huge criminal enterprise capable of murder, kidnapping, and torture. There have already been threats against juveniles and the elderly, and I'm sure as hell still at risk. So, yes, them. They're out there and we can't talk about it because you'd have to report it. Then we'd all be dead."

Burke sits in silence, stunned by her statement and its startling conclusion. Had his patient not suffered an attempted assassination, he'd think she was raving. But she's a professional, one who keeps managing to find harrowing situations. She might be healing and she might possess a strong personality, but a person can only take so much stress before fractures appear. And once the foundation is cracked…

"Perhaps," Burke offers after ruminating on his options, "we could talk about what happened at the bank? That was an isolated incident, separated from your regular routine and the challenges surrounding your case."

Not really, Beckett thinks, but she can't really explain that to Dr. Burke without discussing exactly the issues she'd hoped to avoid. So, she accepts the suggestion with the intent of keeping the discussion on relatively safe topics. Who would've thought that talking about mercenaries pulling a bank heist would be a safe topic?

"Okay," she accepts with a nod.

Noting her uncomfortable posture, Burke ties to ease into the topic. "You were not in the bank?" When she shakes her head, he nods and tries to anticipate the situation. "So, you were outside the bank, speaking with the robbers by phone?"

"Their leader," Beckett agrees. "Trapper John."

"Like the doctor?" Burke asks, surprised.

"That was their theme. Each robber wore surgical scrubs and adopted the name of a fictional doctor. I think," she offers, recalling some of their small talk from dinner at Remy's, "Castle might've gotten knocked around a bit for critiquing their choices."

"So, your partner managed to find himself in the middle of another violent confrontation even during his hiatus from working at the precinct?" Burke probes, seizing on the topic that he knows matters most to his patient.

"Yeah," Beckett admits sadly. "He's a magnet for trouble, always has been. Seems to be worse lately, though," she mumbles, marveling at her own understatement.

"It must have been difficult," Burke eases a few moments later, "conducting the negotiations with your partner inside. I imagine a personal connection would usually exclude you from such an assignment."

"Usually," Beckett replies, "but when hostage-takers call the shots, we adjust."

Burke nods at her grim explanation and takes a moment to frame his approach. "I also imagine it was difficult to let Trapper John think he was in control of the situation while you worked to free the hostages."

"He did have control," Beckett replies, still deeply uncomfortable with what happened in the negotiations with Trapper John. Burke can point out her connection to Castle, but that's what made whole situation work – she couldn't have been more invested in resolving the standoff. Without him as her focus, she's not sure she could've pulled it off or dealt with the lack of control. She doesn't know how Peterson does it in standoff after standoff.

"Can you explain?" Burke asks. Beckett gives him a look, wondering if he's actually curious or if this is a therapeutic technique. Either way, she decides to answer.

"He had control. He had the hostages and could do whatever he wanted," she offers in a too-casual voice. When Burke's look suggests he's not buying her aloof recitation, she gets a little irritated. "Look, we all know how these situations end – it's very rare for hostage-takers to get away. The standoffs are usually long, drawn-out affairs. But the question isn't really are they going to get away, it's how are things going to end? Will the perps finally give up and come out or will they go out in a blaze of glory? Sometimes," she explains in a voice grower lower and lower, "the captors decide they don't want to go out alone. So, our job – my job – was to make sure the hostages were alive at the end. And that meant keeping Trapper John happy as long as possible."

"All while he was able to threaten your partner."

"Yes," Beckett whispers, looking down to shelter behind her hair. "Things got tense, toward the end. He… he fired a shot and I thought… I thought I'd gotten Castle killed," she confesses in a broken voice. Burke's about to reply but Beckett wants to finish describing this nightmare. "Then he put the gun against Castle's neck and said the next shot wouldn't miss."

"Kate," Burke calls out, emoting far more than usual as he tries to reach his patient, "You've spent more than a decade of your life hammering away, using your job as an anvil to shape yourself into the sword that'll find justice for your mother. You've controlled your own destiny, arranged your entire life to help you achieve that goal. It's not a life that's been marked by compromise or relinquishing control. I won't bore you with platitudes about the strength of the reed, about having the strength to both stand tall and to bend when necessary. But you did it when you needed to – you gave Trapper John enough control to keep everyone safe until the end."

"You think that's what happened?" Beckett scoffs. "Here's how much control I gave him," she explains in a voice that sounds a little out of control. "I told him he wouldn't pull the trigger because if he did I'd march through the door and blow his head off."

"I…," Burke replies, completely shocked and a little appalled, both with her actions and his blundering into this topic. He's as bad as his patient, he chastises himself, trying to learn on the fly. "Perhaps it's true what they say," he offers, going back on his comment about avoiding platitudes. "There's no substitute for intuition."

"It was honest," Beckett replies with a shrug. "We both knew it, so it worked." Her comment was meant to shut this line of discussion, to get Burke to move on. But it prompts a burst of sudden understanding in Beckett. This is what Castle felt when they were threatening Alexis – the complete certainty that he would do anything to protect her. Beckett's been around, she knows how this works. If Trapper John had hurt Castle, she would've made good on her threat. And her colleagues would've cleaned it up. She might be busted down or tossed out, but the blue line would protect her. It's yet another resource Castle doesn't have.

Thinking of him opens another door in her mind. All this talk of control – it's not really Trapper John who challenged her in this regard, but Castle. Even now he's out there somewhere, pursuing the case in ways she can't anticipate, leaving those cursed and cherished letters behind. And even though they've been texting, he's been careful not to reveal anything about his efforts. She feels like an old mariner, one of those salty souls who saw only the surface ripples of something large and unknown moving beneath the surface. 'Here Be Monsters,' she smirks to herself as she thinks about Castle staying out of sight but definitely causing havoc.

"Kate?" Burke calls out, apparently not for the first time. When she looks up, she sees not the expected look of concern but instead one of curiosity. "Care to share what you were thinking? I thought perhaps I'd offended you, but your smile suggests otherwise."

She was smiling? Beckett actually lifts a hand to her mouth to confirm. Now Burke does look concerned.

"You helped me realize something," she offers. "The situation with Trapper John was terrifying. I had to give up control and Castle's life was in the balance. I've never given up control because I've never trusted anyone to do what I could do."

"And your epiphany…?"

Irritating therapist. She knows what he's assuming. "Look, I know there's a difference between self-reliance and self-obsession," Beckett explains before growing irritated at his perched brow. "If I trust someone, I think I could let go." Especially if I'm not given the choice, she thinks, though she won't share that bit with Burke.

"And you think there's someone you could trust enough to help shoulder some of your responsibilities?" Burke asks, lobbing a softball in her direction since they both know who she's thinking about.

"I'm starting to think so," she answers, refusing to articulate Castle's name to see if Burke will call her on it.

Burke sighs but lets the point pass, aware that he's already misstepped egregiously in this session. "I'm concerned," he admits, stating his thought baldly rather than leading her with questions. "Choosing to rely on your partner only after he leaves may not signal trust so much as regret, guilt, or hope. Are you sure that…"

"I trust Castle," Beckett states clearly and with conviction, using the opportunity to chastise herself for thoughts that weren't originally so charitable. "And he'll come back. To the precinct, I hope. But he'll come back to me. He always has."

Burke does well to hide his deeply troubled reaction to this declaration. Even as they downshift into a more banal conversation and start to draw this session to a close, his mind is reeling. His patient does not trust easily and relies on people even less. It seems as if she's made some drastic changes in her relationship – professional or otherwise – with Mr. Castle. But the timing is deeply disturbing. He wonders if her long-hidden hope for a connection with her partner is a poor coping mechanism for his departure. And things might be worse if not – what happens if Mr. Castle doesn't return to the precinct or some form of partnership with Kate? For someone who doesn't trust easily, such a rejection might reinforce some of her most challenging characteristics.

Beckett, at least, seems pleased by today's session, clearly pleased by the realization she mentioned. It's a small miracle given the tension of today's talks. So, Burke decides to bring things to a close.

"We'll talk again at your regularly scheduled appointment?" he asks. "I'm sorry, again, for my comments about missing your last session."

"Next week as scheduled," Beckett answers with a nod, acknowledging Burke's apology with her back-to-business attitude.

"Please be careful," Burke warns, catching Beckett's attention. "It sounds as if your focus on Mr. Castle kept any of your anxiety at bay during the stand-off, but now that it's passed you might find periods of stress more frequent or more harrowing. Should that occur," he offers kindly, "remember the coping mechanisms we've discussed and call me if you'd like to talk."

Beckett nods but doesn't verbally reply. She'd expected new peaks of PTSD following what happened at the New Amsterdam, but has been pleasantly surprised so far. She still has panic attacks, but they're no worse and might even be growing less frequent.

With his warning still ringing in her ears, Beckett makes her departure. While there's not exactly a spring in her step, she does appear less burdened than when she arrived. Burke maintains a small smile until the door closes behind her. With no witnesses, he walks over to his desk and slumps into his chair, trying to make sense of what happened today.

While his brusque start to their session was clearly a mistake, the session really turned when Kate refused to talk about some of the issues she's facing. He's never had a patient openly challenge the topics for discussion due to his ethical requirements. She'd obviously done her research and thought about the topics that might force him to report their conversation.

Hers wasn't a general apprehension, he slowly realizes. She had specific concerns in mind, concerns that mirror the Code of Ethics. She mentioned child and elder abuse, which now seems odd. She's mentioned nothing about her father and she has no children or nieces or nephews. In fact, Detective Beckett's life seems devoid of children about whom there could be concern.

Burke snaps his fingers as he leans forward. Of course – it's Mr. Castle. He has both a mother and a daughter. But that would mean the threats Kate mentioned were not limited to her but instead involve the Castle family as well. And if that's the case, then Mr. Castle's departure from the precinct takes on a whole different meaning…

Luckily, Dr. Burke thinks, Mr. Castle is a public figure. There ought to be a wealth of information online about him. Perhaps if he can figure out what's going on with the Castle family, Burke thinks as he leans forward and wakes his computer, then he could more effectively treat Detective Beckett. Time to do some online research for his patient, he thinks as he opens a web browser and starts to see what's going with her partner.

A/N: So, it's been an interesting week: my writing (and other efforts) were slowed by floods and mudslides in San Francisco, a blizzard in Boston, and lots of time spent trying to find alternate travel arrangements. I'm home again and trying to get caught up.

Many thanks for the reviews, especially on the Cops & Robbers chapters. My professional life is getting crazy again, but I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter, so I'll find time to have some fun this week.