Kate drummed her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Where was he?
Checking her watch again, she sighed. It had been 10 minutes. Castle needed 10 minutes to change a pair of pants? Unbelievable. God knows what he was doing. He probably got distracted by something shiny and forgot all about his promise to be out in a flash.
I'll give him another couple of minutes. Then I am going to go up there, drag him down here by his styled hair, and kick his ass.
Beckett switched the radio on and shuffled the stations around until a familiar song filtered through the speakers. She settled back into her seat to wait a few more minutes…
Beckett roused groggily from her nap. She rubbed her eyes and searched for the time. Sighing in relief, she realized she'd only closed her eyes for 15 minutes. She quickly typed out a message to Castle asking where he was. Seconds later, she got a reply.
"Hey. Really tired and not feeling too good. I'm going to stay home. See you later."
The text lacked everything Castle. No witty comments, no sarcastic jibes, nothing. She justified his un-Castleness to the fact that he wasn't feeling well. Beckett shrugged her shoulders, started up the car, and headed to the precinct.
Castle wiggled his fingers trying to loosen the zip ties around his wrists. No luck. He was stuck, and he wasn't getting out anytime soon. He sighed. He remembered asking the man what he wanted, but after that it all went blank. His head was pounding in sync with the rapid beating of his heart.
Swallowing the bile in the back of his throat, he rested his head back on the chair. Beckett knew he was here; Beckett would come for him. But something about that thought felt wrong, like subconsciously he knew that wasn't actually going to happen. He shut his eyes tight as he wracked his brain trying to come up with some answers. What had happened?
1 hour earlier…
"Why, Mr. Castle, isn't it quite obvious? I am here for you."
Castle jerked back in surprise. What could this man possibly want with him?
"I have money, lots of it. You can take whatever you want."
The man laughed at the absurd comment.
"No, Mr. Castle. I have no need for your money. I want something else, something even more valuable."
Castle stared at the man confused. Blood from the cut on his forehead dripped down into his eye and caked his cheek.
With a wicked grin, the man told him exactly what he wanted. Castle's eyes grew wide.
"Revenge."
The man lashed out and hit Castle right in the gut with a strong punch. Castle doubled over, the breath escaping his lips. With a final blow, the man brought his gun down on the back of Castle's head. He crumbled at the impact, dropping with a thud to the floor. He lay unmoving, unthreatening.
The man dragged his cargo over to a chair. Heaving Castle up to a sitting position, he dumped him in the seat and secured Castle with the zip ties from his pocket. The man turned away, confident that the author would not escape.
Suddenly, a noise pierced the silence. Starting in surprise, the man stalked to his captive, wondering where the offending sound was coming from. Searching his pockets, the man found Castle's cell phone. It had a message from a Kate Beckett.
The man growled. Kate Beckett. Oh, how he loathed her. He looked at the slumped form of Richard Castle and hatred burned in his eyes. How he loathed them both for what they did.
Glancing at the phone in his hand, he opened the text.
"Where are you?"
The man chuckled to himself. Again, it was all too easy.
He typed out a reply and sent it quickly. Placing the cell phone on the counter, he walked back over to Castle. The man leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Your little detective friend was wondering where you were. Sorry to say, you won't be seeing her for a while. No one will be coming to look for you. Oh, we are going to have so much fun…" The man laughed to himself. He pulled the zip ties a little tighter around Castle's hands and feet, the plastic digging painfully into his skin. His captive moaned at the added pressure, but didn't stir.
The man pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and placed it right across from the hunched form of the author. Now, the waiting begins…
"It's time to wake up, Mr. Castle!"
Castle's eyes flew open at the voice. Pain tore through his head as light pierced his eyes. He gasped at the excruciating pounding in his skull. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he brought his head up from where his chin had rested against his chest. He glared at his captor, but he couldn't quite see him clearly. The blurred vision was making it hard to identify the man behind the voice.
The man moved closer stealthily, barely making a sound as he neared Castle. Grabbing a fistful of his prisoner's hair, he yanked his head up to meet his gaze. Castle barely choked down a pained cry as his head was jerked up roughly. Black spots tinged the edge of his vision as the man's face swam before him. He took deep breaths, trying to get the pain under control.
The man grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.
"I have so been looking forward to formally meeting you, Mr. Castle."
"The pleasure is all mine," Castle replied sarcastically.
Darkness enveloped the man's eyes. Suddenly, his fist connected with Castle's stomach, driving the air from his lungs. Castle let out a strangled cry, curling in on himself as much as he could. Pain flared up from his abdomen and spread to his chest as his oxygen-deprived lungs tried to suck in some air.
"Now, now. I have certain rules that must be followed. Or there will be consequences…severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
Castle nodded weakly. He didn't really want that to happen again.
"Rule number one, Mr. Castle: no sarcastic replies. Do I make myself CLEAR?" Castle shrunk back from the obvious rage in the man's voice. Another nod told the man to continue. "Rule number two: do not try and lie to me. I will know, and it will not end well for you. And finally rule number three: make no effort to escape, no loud shouts to draw attention, no attempts to contact your friends at the NYPD. If I so much as think you are trying to escape…well, for your sake, I hope I don't have to go there."
Castle repeated the rules to himself. He was going to try very hard not to forget them. He didn't want to know just what breaking rule number three would earn him. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what the man was telling him. He was very tired. His eyes drifted closed and he let out a shaky breath. Silently, he prayed someone would find him, and find him soon. He thought about Beckett and hoped she would come looking for him. Castle's head rolled forward to rest on his chest and succumbed to unconsciousness.
Kate glanced at the clock on her computer. It had been a few hours since she had heard from Castle. Frowning to herself, she played back over the morning. Castle wasn't acting sick before they stopped at his apartment. Something in that sent off warning bells in Beckett's head. She reached for her phone to give him a call, ask him if he needed soup or anything. Her finger hovered over the send button.
You're overreacting, Kate. Stop being stupid. He is a grown man and can take care of himself.
Her musings brought little comfort. She squirmed in her seat, uncertain what to do. Looking again at the clock, she made a decision. At the end of shift she'd pick up some soup and tea and bring it by his apartment. Happy with her decision, she picked up her office phone to talk to the family of their latest murder victim.