alright folks here's the next chapter! hope you enjoy!

as for the person who reviewed it was moving at a slow pace, it's already written this way, there's no changing it now. also it's intended to be dragged out over the course of a work week. thanks for your input and i hope it moves more to your liking.

enjoy!


FRIDAY

It was early. Lanie couldn't sleep and lay awake on the couch in her office. She was once again waiting for tox screens and test results on the latest victims.

The sun was barely rising above the city skyline when she finally hauled herself up and went for coffee, to mentally prepare herself for another day of nothing. She was rapidly losing hope now. Who knew how much longer her girl could last where she was? Kate Beckett was strong, but the woman they'd all seen in that video didn't look much like their Kate anymore.

Just as she reached the coffee machine in the break room upstairs, her cell phone rang sharply.

On the couch in the corner, Esposito jerked awake and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes.

Lanie smiled a small smile at him over her shoulder and answered it tiredly.

"Lanie Parish,"

"Lanie?"

Lanie dropped her mug and it shattered on the tiles. Esposito looked up quickly and frowned as the ME went as pale as was possible for her complexion. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was dropped.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Lanie?"

"Kate,"

Esposito was up as soon as he heard that and he crossed the break room in three strides, taking the phone from her shaking fingers and pulling her close and the phone to his ear.

"Beckett?"

"Espo, hi," it was Beckett. She sounded tired, and raspy, like she hadn't spoken in a long time.

"Beckett, where are you? How are you calling? Are you okay?"

"He's coming, back. Warehouse? I'm tired, Espo, please come get me now."

"You're in a warehouse? Who's coming back? Where are you?"

"Smells like blood. And paint. No windows. Man and woman. Please come,"

"Why does she sound like that?" Lanie said from his shoulder.

"Beckett?"

"I have to go. Hurry,"

The line went dead. The two stared at the phone a moment before bursting into action.


"She called?" Castle bolted upright in bed, suddenly wide awake.

"She called Lanie, we don't know how, but it's a cell number, we're tracing it now. She said she was in a warehouse, man and woman working together, smelled like paint. Any of that striking a crazy theory cord, bro?"

Castle offhandedly noted the background noise in the precinct, people moving around quickly, papers shuffling, phones ringing and being put back in their cradles, voices overlapping each other.

"Uh, no, um, I'll be right there. What time is it?" He asked out loud, searching his dark room for the glow of his alarm clock.

7:48 AM glared back at him as he hung up with the detective and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

As he dropped his phone on the bedspread, something caught his attention.

5 missed calls.

Frowning, he slid his finger across the screen to unlock it and looked up the number, noting that it wasn't one he recognized.

A cell number. One he didn't recognize. Beckett called Lanie. Why Lanie? Why not him first? She did, you just didn't hear her.

He jumped up and cursed out loud, flinging the phone against the pillows. Taking a calming breath, Castle pulled off his sweats and t-shirt and yanked on jeans and a button up, forgetting his usual blazer in the rush to get moving.

All but sprinting down the stairs, he almost crashed into Alexis.

"Dad!" she cried out, nearly dropping her OJ.

"Sweetie!" Castle gripped her shoulders and steadied her carefully.

"Where's the fire, kiddo?" Martha called from the kitchen.

"It's Beckett! She called, from a phone she called and they're tracing it and I have to go,"

"Well that's great, where is she? Is she okay?" Alexis was rapid-firing questions.

"I don't know, I'm going to find out, to the precinct," complete sentences escaped him at the moment.

They had a new lead on Beckett and he had to go. Now. His heart was beating against his ribs and his stomach was clenching and unclenching.

"Go, go!" Martha waved him out the door.

"Dad, wait!" Alexis called before he turned the handle. She raced over and hugged him tightly, squeezing once before letting go. She pointed at his feet. "Shoes,"


"What do we know?" Castle demanded as he finally reached the bullpen.

"The Wilders are the same as the others, no connection to the other vics or Beckett, same chemical substance, same COD, same paint chips and residues. The trace on Beckett's phone call was only specific enough to tell us she's somewhere in Manhattan." Esposito reported from the murder board.

Scott Daniels' picture was front and centre, a picture of the emblem next to it. A line ran from his picture to the top right corner where there was a picture of Beckett. Castle noted that lines extended from all around his picture to all the couples.

"Anything to connect Daniels to the others?" Castle asked quickly.

"Nothing. It's like he just picks them out of thin air and they all happen to look like you and Beckett," Ryan answered in frustration.

"Wait, paint chips,"

Esposito and Ryan exchanged looks before raising eyebrows at Castle. "What?" they asked in unison.

"Paint chips? And Manhattan! Where's Daniels' property records?" Castle turned in a circle looking for them before he snatched them up off the desk next to him.

"What is it?" Ryan asked.

"Paint chips! A warehouse with paint chips and you said Beckett smelled paint and the call came from Manhattan."

"So?"

"So, Scott Daniels owns warehouses all over the state, including several in Manhattan; he turned one into cheap storage, one into an indoor soccer field for kids and the other in Chelsea into an art gallery for the local community centre! A warehouse in Manhattan with paint owned by Scott Daniels who's watch is in the video of our vic and Beckett AND who is supposed to be in LA but isn't?" he spoke quickly and all in one breath, waving the papers around as the lightbulb went off in his head.

"Please tell me we're driving out to Chelsea."

"Let's go."


Sirens wailing, tires screeching, Esposito peeled into the empty lot outside the warehouse-turned-art-gallery. He and Ryan jumped out of the car, but Castle was way ahead of them, running for the closest door.

Behind him, Ryan and Esposito were yelling for him to stop, to wait for them, to put on his goddamn vest, but Castle was already nearing the door.

He skidded to a stop when it flew open before he could touch the handle.


Beckett was tired, so tired, too many days and nights of too little food and water. Too long sitting slumped against a wall.

But they believed she'd still given up. They'd hadn't bound her hands. They hadn't sedated her.

She still had no shoes. The sweater they'd put her in was gone now. But they'd gone too. All she had to do was get up and get out. That's it. Just get up and walk out of this little grey room.

Everything the man had said to her raced through her mind, but she pushed it aside. She didn't care if Castle hated her or if this woman ended up being his choice instead. Part of her didn't quite believe it, and needed to see and hear it for herself.

She clung to that part and took a deep breath, pulling herself to her feet. The door to the room was unlocked and she tugged it open. She chose a direction at random and set off, carefully avoiding open doorways.

After several long minutes and more than a few wrong turns, she walked through an open space with clean wood floors and high white walls. Art gallery? The paint. Beckett remembered the detail for later and moved on, sighting a heavy grey door at the other end of the room.

She made it two steps before a female voice called out.

"Hey!"

Beckett turned and saw the woman. She had a knife in one hand, a syringe in the other. She didn't need to be a detective to figure out that the woman had waited until the man had left and was planning on drugging then killing her.

She wouldn't get the chance. This woman wanted Castle. But Beckett had to believe in all the flirting and always and touches and looks and promises and acts of kindness that Castle wanted her. Not this woman. Her.

Beckett turned and tried to hurry her aching legs towards the door, but the woman was faster, jabbing the needle into her neck and depressing the plunger.

She stumbled and fell to her knees with a sharp exhale as they connected with the wood.

"You thought you could just walk out? Just leave and run straight into his arms? He doesn't want you, you know. He hates you. He doesn't want to show it because you'll fall to pieces if another person leaves, but he's sick of you and you're teasing. Me? I wouldn't tease him. I love him. And I'm going to be there for him when your body shows up, washed ashore from the East River,"

Beckett forced her eyes to stay open and watched as the woman advanced on her with what she saw was the scalpel.

"You don't deserve him. It doesn't matter if you live, really. As long as Caste thinks you're in trouble, it'll drive him crazy, which keeps the boss happy," she said 'boss' with exaggeration, "but the illusion of you can do the same. All I have to do is keep helping him and Castle's safe."

The woman dropped to her knees and straddled Beckett's legs. "See? This is how you keep someone you love safe. You don't get them shot at, you don't put their lives in danger, their families."

The woman lowered the scalpel to Beckett's cheek and applied gentle pressure, just until the skin broke and blood beaded to the surface. Tears pricked her eyes and Beckett took another deep breath as the woman continued to talk.

She wasn't listening anymore. Beckett pushed the talking out, like she was getting used to doing, and focused all her energy on her right arm. Curling her fingers into a fist, she breathed in and swung.

Her fist cut off the woman's sentence mid-word and knocked her clean off her legs. Beckett scrambled on uncooperative legs until she was upright and staggering for the door.

Her single thought was Castle.

"Hey!"

Beckett didn't look back, instead threw herself at the door.


Castle grunted in surprise when the door flung open and he found himself suddenly with an armful of trembling Beckett.

"Beckett? Guys! It's-,"

"Get down!" Ryan shouted, more cars pulling up and more cops piling out and shouting.

Castle looked up and saw a woman framed in the open doorway, scalpel raised and glinting in the sunlight. He blinked and she lunged for Beckett, sharp end first and Castle hit the deck, pulling Beckett under him protectively.

A muffled bang rang out and the woman above them cried out before dropping like a sack of potatoes next to them.

"Whoa," Castle breathed. That had probably been the most action packed 15 seconds of his life.

The woman groaned and Ryan was immediately next to them, handcuffing her and hauling her to her feet, the beanbag one of the other officers had fired laying at their feet.

"Castle, Beckett," Esposito appeared above them too as uniforms in vests swarmed into the building, guns raised.

Castle leaned up off Beckett and peered down at her.

Her eyes were closed and she looked pale.

"Beckett? Beckett! Beckett, open your eyes. Come on," Castle touched her cheek, tapped it gently, then more firmly. She didn't move. He noted blossoming bruises on her face.

"She's breathing bro, she's just out. The ambulance is here," Esposito grasped Castle's shoulder and helped him lift Beckett into the writer's arms before the paramedics could even unload the stretcher and wheel it over.

"Beckett. Kate? Kate, come on," he kept whispering over and over. He laid her out on the stretcher and the paramedics eased him aside to check her over. Castle winced when he caught sight of her cut and torn and bruised wrists.

"She's, she's gonna be okay, right?" he asked the closest paramedic, who was sliding an oxygen mask over Beckett's face while her partner attached a portable heart monitor to her finger and chest.

"Right?"

"Sir, are you riding in the ambulance?" The woman asked, already helping her partner lift and fold the legs up to slide the stretcher into the ambulance.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," and he climbed in, instantly taking Beckett's cold hand in his.


Castle sat in worried silence all the way to the hospital, but the ambulance driver and paramedics didn't seem to be in such a huge hurry or seem all that concerned about Beckett. They didn't use the lights and only turned on the sirens when traffic started to bog down.

When they pulled up to New York Presbyterian, he was ushered down a different hospital with a nurse while Beckett was taken a different way to a private curtained off area in the emergency room.

He slumped into a cushioned chair and ran a hand through his hair, not noticing when the nurse tried to hand him a clipboard. "Sir?"

Castle looked up and took the clipboard and papers. "Try and fill these out as best you can for your wife, when you're done just drop them off at the nurses station over there and they'll let you know what's happening next, okay?"

He didn't bother to correct the woman's assumption that Beckett was his wife. It had happened before and it would undoubtedly happen again, so he just nodded and bent his head, gripped the pen, and started filling in lines and boxes.

For a long while, the passage of time meant nothing to Castle as he worked through the paperwork before him as best he could. It turned out it was a full 30 minutes before Esposito and Ryan turned up with Lanie.

"We had to secure the scene and give out statements, how's she doing?" Esposito asked immediately, pointing a stressed looking Lanie into a chair next to Castle. She collapsed into it gratefully.

"I don't know, I haven't seen her yet, or heard anything. I was filling out these," he held up the clipboard and Lanie took it from him, studying the papers a moment before snatching the pen and filling in some of the spaces he hadn't known.

"The doctor hasn't come out yet?" Ryan asked, looking over at the nurses station.

"No, nothing, and nothing in the ambulance. She was just, she was just laying there. Not moving. She didn't even look like she was breathing," Castle lowered his head to his hands again.

Just as Lanie went to give in the paperwork on Beckett, a tall, balding man in a white coat came around the corner carrying a shinier clipboard of his own.

"Detective Katherine Beckett?" he announced, glancing up and seeing the foursome wearily get to their feet.

"We're with her," Esposito said. Lanie grasped his hand and Ryan dropped a hand to Castle's shoulder.

The doctor eyed them critically before spotting the badges around Esposito and Ryan's necks. "Alright, Detective Beckett has suffered minor malnutrition and dehydration. There are minor sprains to the muscles in her forearms and strains in both wrists. There are multiple needle marks and traces of a chemical in her blood we can't yet identify, is she on any experimental medications?"

Lanie took the liberty of answering. "No, it's an unknown and possibly unstable compound. Administered against her will," she said pointedly.

"Alright, well for now we only have her on IV fluids, because we don't know what's going to interact with this drug. Her heart rate and blood pressure are a little low, but they're stable, her breathing's good. There are minor scrapes, bruises and contusions over her legs and arms, one on her jaw, but nothing's broken or fractured. No sign of internal bleeding. Right now we're just waiting for her to wake up, and then we can go from there,"

"When can we see her?" Castle asked almost before the doctor had finished speaking. His ID card clipped to his scrubs pocket said Dr. F. Rodgers.

"She's resting comfortably, so you can visit for a short time if you like, I'll take you up there now?"

Dr. Rodgers took in the four immediate nods and turned down the way he'd come, the men and Lanie following right behind.


It was almost 11 before Ryan's phone rang. Montgomery asked how Beckett was and then told them to get back to the precinct and interrogate the woman they'd arrested and go over what CSU had found.

Lanie was not to be moved from Beckett's right side as the boys explained and left, anger simmering just below the surface. Castle sat at Beckett's left side, both he and Lanie claiming a hand to hold onto.

"Did you go in and clear the scene with the boys?" he asked some time later in a low voice.

"Yeah," Lanie said back, in a voice just as low and thick with something like disgust and sadness.

"How bad was it?"

"Castle, I don't-,"

"Please, just tell me. It can't be worse than what I'm imagining."

Even though they had all seen the video, Castle couldn't stop his mind from spinning different scenarios. What if there was more than one room? What if there were multiple rooms and each was more horrible than the last?

"It was like the video," Lanie said quietly, but with anger clearly lacing her tone. She was watching Beckett's peaceful face as she slept off the cocktail that had been forced upon her.

"It was a small grey room, a set of restraints attached to the far wall. The blood, the blood was everywhere on the closest half. Stained into the concrete and against the wall. Splatter, from the gunshots. It almost reached those restraints, Castle."

It almost reached Beckett, she was saying.

"There, there was blood in the cuffs of the restraints, a blindfold, a tray with half a sandwich on it, a glass of water. It smelled like so much blood. Ten people's worth." Lanie said, finally looking up into Castle's eyes.

He swallowed thickly and looked back down at Beckett, his Kate, and reached up with the hand not holding hers and pushed hair behind her ears. It was dirty and tangled. The bruises on the pale skin of her jaw were turning into a handprint; someone had gripped her face, hard.

"Jesus," he whispered, lowering his hand.

"She's here, Castle. She made it. She's strong, a survivor." Lanie tried to reassure him and herself.

"Yeah, yeah." Castle agreed softly.

They turned back to their girl and fell into silence, waiting for her to wake up.


"I'm not saying a word." the woman pressed her hand tighter to her shoulder and eyed Esposito angrily.

"That's fine. I'll do the talking, Ms. Clark." the detective flipped open a thin file and calmly took a seat opposite her.

"Annabeth Clark, 35, lives on the Upper East SIde, works as a pharmacist and part time research chemist at NYU, employed six years at AlphaBeta Pharmaceuticals and Yearly's Pharmacy." Esposito listed off. He pulled a face and glanced up at her for the first time. "That's all you make? Tell me, how do you afford a penthouse on the Upper East Side, huh?"

Annabeth Clark looked away, the defiance sliding slowly from her face as he revealed more and more about her.

"Right, forgot, you're not talking. Only child, parents died when you were young, no arrest record. Surprising, but not uncommon. How'd you go from model citizen to kidnapping a cop, Annabeth?"

She focused on a spot above the two way mirror and tried not to flinch.

"Okay. Fine. You can talk to the DA when she gets here. And let me tell you, they don't tend to make deals with murderers, especially not ones that kidnaps cops. And definitely not one that targeted, kidnapped and tortured a homicide detective, one with close and success rate of-,"

"It wasn't just me. I never hurt her!" Annabeth blurted.

Esposito turned to the two way glass and moments later Ryan was striding in with another thin pile of folders.

"Who were you working with?"

"Scott, it was Scott Daniels! He's my brother, please, don't send me to prison, I didn't even kidnap that cop, he did. I didn't kill anybody! I was just protecting him!"

"Protecting who?"


Evening rolled in and Ryan and Esposito turned back up in Beckett's room with burgers from Remy's, cans of coke, bottles of water and a thick file.

"Did she talk?" Lanie asked, looking up at the detectives as they came in the door.

"She did, you wouldn't believe what she's saying." Ryan answered, settling heavily on the small couch pushed against the wall.

"What about Scott Daniels?" Castle asked, accepting a burger from Esposito along with a bottle of water. Lanie took a burger and a coke.

"Can't find him; we've frozen his credit cards and put a trace of his cell phone, unis are on his home and office, Karpowski's team is assigned to finish processing the scene and sitting on the warehouse in case he heads back there," Esposito filled in, falling heavily onto the couch next to his partner and handing him a burger.

"How's she doing?" Ryan asked, unwrapping his food.

"Nothing yet, hasn't moved a muscle," Lanie reported, popping the tab on her can of coke.

As soon as the tab popped open the can, Beckett's eyes opened, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. A sigh escaped her lips and she looked around the room without really seeing the occupants. With evening rolling in, the room was darkening, casting shadows along the walls. They looked grey.

Her wrists ached and something was bound around them.

She felt disoriented and like she was swimming in syrup. She'd felt it before. She hadn't escaped. She was still in that awful grey room.

"No," came out on a groan and she squeezed her eyes closed, hot tears pricking behind her eyelids and escaping to slide down pale cheeks.

"Kate? Sweetie open your eyes," Lanie pushed the burger down the bed and stood, grasping Beckett's hand tighter, the other going to the detective's cheek.

Beckett felt a hand on her cheek and turned away from it. She was still in the room. She had thought, she remembered escaping, crashing through a heavy door into Castle. Blue sky. The writer's voice.

"Honey, look at me, Kate," Lanie kept trying but Beckett pulled away from her. They all noticed Beckett didn't try and lift her hands.

Castle felt his stomach clench and flicked his gaze to Lanie. "Let me try,"

Lanie eyed him carefully but pulled back to stand by Esposito, who had risen with Ryan when Beckett had first stirred. They watched as Castle swiped sweaty palms on his thighs before gently placing one hand on each of Beckett's cheeks, softly wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

"Shh, Beckett, it's okay. Look, open your eyes, come on." he whispered, lowering his face to rest on the pillow next to hers where she'd turned away from Lanie. The position was awkward and he already felt twinges in his back but ignored them, focusing on the woman in front of him.

"No," she groaned again, but she didn't move.

Beckett frowned again. This felt different. There wasn't one hand on her face, trying to maneuver her. There were two hands, soft hands, and they were cradling, not gripping.

"Kate," Castle whispered, risking life and limb to nudge her nose with his, then to rest his forehead against her wrinkled one.

Watery hazel eyes opened to worried blue ones. Slim fingers came up to curl around a strong wrist.

"Hi," Castle said, trying a small smile.

He was so close, Beckett could hardly focus on him but she felt relief wash over her at the feel of him under her fingers, against her forehead, the smell of him. His voice.

"I'm sorry," she said back softly. He'd come for her, they all had, and she didn't deserve it. The man and woman had been right.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Castle said firmly, thumbs still stroking her cheeks. Her face crumpled a little before she took a deep breath.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Beckett said, still in a whisper.

"Always," he replied. "How are you feeling?" Castle hooked his knee up on the bed and half leaned, half sat on the edge, one hand staying on her face, the other slipping down to hold her hand. She gripped back.

Beckett swallowed and her eyes closed again before opening lazily, like it took significant effort. "So tired,"

"Lanie's going to call the doctor, okay? So he can check you over. And then you can rest, okay?"

"Okay," she breathed, eye falling shut again.

Lanie tore her eyes from the heartwarming scene in front of her to find the doctor. She elbowed Esposito on her way out and pulled him and Ryan out into the hall.

"Javier, you track down and call Kate's dad, his number's in my phone. Kev, can you call and update the Captain? I'm going to find the doctor."

The three broke their small huddle and went off to do their tasks.


yay! she's found alive! after half-rescuing herself, of course :)

and now we get into some fluffy goodness. we all need it by now, right? right. glad you agree.

reviews are love!