They sat together on the couch for a long time. Castle couldn't remember any time when he'd felt more shaken, and Beckett's arms around him seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him from falling apart completely. He wasn't used to feeling so off kilter and definitely wasn't okay with the fact that he couldn't remember anything. Luckily, she seemed to know what he needed more than he did, and she was willing to be the rock that he could cling to in the midst of so much uncertainty. He sighed, and her arms tightened just a little, and he figured she was worried that he was going to freak out on her again.

"Easy…"

His shoulders hurt too much for him to hold her back, but her touch was therapeutical, and as he felt himself relax, the tension in his body lessened a little and his fear ebbed. She was right; they'd solved all sorts of mysteries before. They shouldn't have trouble figuring out what had happened to him, too. He wasn't so sure of the hypnosis thing – there were a lot of unresolved issues he had (and many of them had to do with Kate Beckett) – so he wasn't positive that having his psyche peeled apart with her present was such a great idea. Couples – even couples that weren't a couple – should have some secrets between them, as far as he was concerned. Of course, he wasn't very good at relationships, so it was possible he was wrong about that.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her neck.

"For what?"

"All of this."

"It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you."

He felt her turn her head and he was pretty sure she pressed a kiss against his hair, near the stitched area but not so close that she could hurt him.

"It's okay."

They were quiet for a while longer, but he finally picked his head up from her shoulder so he could look at her. She looked tired and concerned, and he wondered how he looked to her.

"You talked to my mother?"

Beckett nodded.

"She knows that I'm not looking for you any more. Beyond that, I didn't tell her anything about what's going on. I wasn't sure what you'd want her to know…"

"Thank you."

She smiled and let go of him, pulling the blanket a little more snugly about his shoulders. Before she could say anything – and she was thinking that maybe they needed some coffee – there was a knock on the door and Esposito and Ryan walked on. Both of them immediately headed for the living room, eyeing Castle and doing a quick assessment of his injuries that they could see. Mostly bruises and swelling.

"Hey, Castle," Ryan said, giving the writer a slightly relieved smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Beat up."

Which made both men smile.

"You look beat up," Esposito told him, sitting in the chair Beckett had vacated. "Any luck remembering what happened to you?"

"No."

"I suggested hypnosis," Beckett said. "But he doesn't want to cluck like a chicken or something."

"Good call," Esposito said. "My cousin had that done at one of those county fairs and now he dresses in women's underwear."

Kate smiled at that.

"I think we would be able to avoid the side affects."

"What do you remember, Castle?" Ryan asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"I remember that I was tied up in a little dark room."

"But before that," Ryan pressed. "I mean, you must remember something since the last time we saw you."

"Your mom said they invited you to go on their tour of colleges, but you told them you were going to research a book," Beckett told him. "Do you remember that?"

He nodded.

"Yes."

"What kind of research?" Esposito asked, curiously. "A new Nikki Heat?"

Castle shook his head.

"I'm not researching a book – at least that's not why I didn't go with them."

"What?"

"I lied," he admitted. He looked over at Beckett, his expression clearly hoping she'd understand. "They're on the west coast looking at colleges like UCLA and UW. Alexis will never come home for holidays if she's that far from home… It was too depressing so I told them I couldn't go, but that I'd go back with her if she found one she really liked."

He watched Beckett's expression soften, and tried to force a smile so she wouldn't know just how much it hurt to think of his little girl leaving him, but it wasn't too convincing he knew.

"Then what did you do?" Esposito asked. "After they left…?"

He sighed, and closed his eyes, thinking back.

"I offered to take them to the airport, but Alexis was going to meet up with a friend and her dad, so she said he was going to pick mother and her up. So I figured I'd go get a drink at the Haunt."

"You drove?" Beckett asked.

"No. I wasn't planning on getting bombed, but I figured a cab would be a better choice."

"Then what? You went to the Haunt?"

He looked at them, blankly.

"I don't remember going there, but that's where I was going, so I must have."

"That's our first stop, then," Esposito said, looking at Ryan. "We go and see if they remember Castle coming in for a drink on Friday."

Ryan nodded and stood up.

"We'll let you know what we find out," he promised, looking at Castle and Beckett.

"Why don't we just go, too?" Castle asked. "Maybe it'll help jar something if I go and talk to them myself."

Esposito frowned.

"You sure you're up for that, bro?"

"Yeah."

He wasn't, but he really wanted to go. He was the one who couldn't remember anything, after all.

The detectives all shared a look, but eventually Beckett shrugged.

"Can't hurt to try, right?"

OOOOOOOOOO

In short order, he and Beckett were in her car, and Ryan and Esposito were planning on meeting them at the Haunt. They decided that it might be odd if Castle were to go into the bar and ask if anyone remembered seeing him, so Esposito and Ryan were going to handle that part, while Beckett checked in with the Taxi company to see where Castle had been dropped off that day – just to confirm that it had been where he'd planned on going. She could do that over the phone, though, so they headed for the Haunt, following the guys.

"Look right?" Beckett asked.

He shrugged, looking out the window as she drove.

"It's not the same way I go, since we're coming from your place…"

Good point.

When they arrived, Beckett parked them in the off-street parking, next to where Esposito parked. The two detectives nodded their direction as they headed into the building, and Castle leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes, trying to remember being there while Beckett called the Taxi company. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Esposito was tapping on the window and Beckett was nudging him to wake up as she rolled down the automatic window.

"They don't remember Castle being here," Esposito reported.

"The cab company looked up their records for me," Beckett said. "Castle asked to go to the Haunt according to the driver, but had the driver drop him off several blocks early."

"Why would I do that?" Castle asked, confused.

"Where did they drop him?" Ryan asked.

"Let's go look," she replied. "They gave me the intersection."

"They're sure?"

"They said they were."

It was more convenient for them to leave one car and go together so Esposito and Ryan got into the back of Beckett's car and they headed out of the parking lot and onto the street. Castle was watching out the window, willing himself to remember something – anything – when he suddenly did.

"Stop! There!"

He pointed at an alley as Beckett hit the brakes, startled. She parked – illegally – and looked over at Castle, who was already opening his door.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah."

He didn't wait for them, but he wasn't moving all that fast as banged up as he was, so they didn't have any trouble catching up. He led them into the alley, and looked around. There were several garbage cans, mostly full and overflowing, and the back doors to the various small businesses that lined the block – and the apartments above them. Heart thumping in his chest, he headed for the end of the alley, and one of the doors.

"Castle, wait…"

Beckett was a cop. As such, her training told her – screamed at her, really – that an alley was the last place they wanted to rush into. Ryan and Esposito were just as cautious, and were even reaching for their weapons as they caught up to Castle just as he tried the door he was standing in front of. It opened, and the writer walked in, followed immediately by Beckett, who had drawn her gun, too. The door opened into a hall, the walls around them made of cinderblock and concrete instead of drywall. The lights were out and only the faint sunlight coming from the doorway illuminated the three doors that exited on the side, and showed them what might be another door at the end of the corridor.

"This is familiar," he said, turning toward Beckett even as he took another step or two into the hall. "I think I've been-"

A barrage of shots suddenly rang out, deafening them all with the shockingly loud noise and sending them all to the floor as bullets ricocheted around them.