Rather than let him sit and brood while they waited for dinner to finish – which Beckett knew he'd do if given the opportunity – the two of them did crossword puzzles. She was pretty good at them, and enjoyed doing them, but Castle was a master, simply due to the fact that he worked with words every day and had an impressive vocabulary. He did his in pen. Beckett used pencil, and every now and then would ask him the answer to one of the few she couldn't eventually puzzle out. It was enough to occupy them until dinner.

It was Castle who pulled the baking pan out of the oven and served them dinner, stating that it was the least he could do since she'd made it. They both ate hungrily since they'd skipped lunch and unlike the safehouse, Beckett had a dishwasher, so clean up was a snap. While she loaded the dishwasher Castle vanished into the bathroom and changed into sweats and a t-shirt since they didn't have any plans to go anywhere. Might as well be comfortable, after all. She did the same once she was done, but then she had him sit on the couch and she washed his hair with the special product that Doctor Cutter had given them. It was used for people in the hospital who couldn't get out of bed to wash or rinse their hair and didn't require any water, which was perfect. She washed around the stitches, but everywhere else was shiny and clean by the time she was done.

Castle brought a hand up – wincing when his shoulder complained – and smiled when he felt it.

"Better?" she asked, already knowing the answer just from his body language.

"Much. Thanks."

Beckett smiled, too, and brushed her hand along his neck, not at all surprised that his muscles were all tense. She was surprised his head wasn't pounding from the tension alone – not to mention the stitched wound.

"You're welcome."

She kneaded his neck a little, just trying to ease the muscles and almost laughed when he tilted his head to the side to give her complete access. Obviously he was all for a massage, even a short one. She complied; rubbing his neck until the muscles had loosened considerably, and then going to his shoulders where she tried to massage those aching muscles as well. When he remained tense, though, she knew that the strained muscles were better off left alone, and she patted his shoulder carefully and then came around and sat down beside him.

"That was nice," he told her, taking her hand.

"You're tense."

"I know." He squeezed the hand he was holding. "Can't help it."

"We'll figure it out," she promised him.

He nodded and put his arm around her, pulling her against him with a sigh.

"Well… ready for that retry?"

He sounded a little reluctant, but she could understand that completely. It was a scary thing, after all, for him to try and remember memories of people beating him up and constantly threatening to kill him.

"Not yet," Beckett told him. She was already cuddled against him, but she wasn't ready to force him to face those memories yet. "Let's just sit and watch TV for a while. I'm not ready for anything more than that just now."

That surprised Castle, but he couldn't help but be relieved, and he relaxed without even realizing that he'd started tensing up. She was warm beside him, and he liked that she was letting him hold her – no matter what the reason. Beckett reached for the remote and turned the TV on and Castle leaned back and watched as she flipped through the channels in search of something interesting to watch. She settled on a made for TV movie – a mystery – and tossed the remote onto the coffee table and then cuddled against him until they were both comfortable, with one arm draped lazily over his stomach and his arm over her shoulder, which was low enough that he didn't have to strain his shoulder in order to do it.

"I'm not sure who Roger is," Castle told her abruptly only ten minutes into the show. She was surprised that he'd been thinking about any of it, really, because as close as she was to him, she hadn't felt him tense at all. "I know I heard the name, though…"

"We'll have Esposito and Ryan look for that name, too, while they're checking the yearbooks from Bridget's college."

"Okay."

"Do you remember how you got away?"

That was something she was curious about, but hadn't really had the opportunity to ask.

He was quiet for a long time, but she knew that wasn't because he hadn't heard her or was ignoring the question. She figured he was probably trying to think about it and see if it would come to him. Since it was a memory that had nothing to do (as far as they knew) with someone threatening him or beating him, it wasn't a thought that made him tense – and it was something he honestly hadn't thought about, either, so he was curious, too.

He closed his eyes and tried to think back, his free hand blindly finding the one she had rested on his stomach. Thinking that he was looking for comfort – or maybe just a little support – Beckett held it, but Castle wasn't paying attention just then.

"I remember it being really quiet," he finally said. "Maybe they'd been gone a while or something, I'm not sure. I wouldn't have tried to get away if I knew they were on the other side of the wall, so they must have mentioned leaving, I suppose. No, there had been another argument – not a really loud one – but enough that he left…"

Castle trailed off, and Beckett waited. When he didn't say anything, she finally had to speak up.

"And Bridget?"

"I remember her coming in."

"Into the room you were in?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "The more I remember, the more I wonder how she ended up mixed up with him. She seemed unhappy."

"She locked you in a closet, Rick," Kate reminded him, again.

"Maybe she didn't," he said. "Maybe it was Jeremy. It probably was Jeremy."

"She knew you were there, and knew you needed medical help, and she let it happen."

Beckett wasn't as forgiving.

"True." Castle thought a bit. "She came in… and gave me a drink, I think, and then told me she had to go-" He tensed. "She had to go check on the gift. To make sure it was still where she'd hidden it. She said that she'd need it, later."

"To sell it?"

"I'm not sure. Probably. She kissed me and left."

"She kissed you?"

"Yes." He frowned. "Odd, isn't it?"

"From what you said earlier, she was a fan – and she had you all to herself and helpless."

"Like in Misery, huh?" Castle murmured. "Scary movie."

"Mmmhmmm." She couldn't agree more. "Then what?"

"I don't know… I remember thinking that I had to get away because something was going to happen… but I don't remember what – if I even knew – and I'm not sure how I got free."

"Crime scene guys are saying that you probably broke the wooden bar above your head and it came down on your head."

He thought about that, but finally had to shake his head.

"I don't remember that."

"They found your blood – at least blood that matches your type – on the broken end. It's either that or someone hit you over the head with it, but they didn't find any fingerprints on the end where someone would have held it."

"Oh."

"So you got free…"

"I got free, and then… it gets fuzzy."

"That's probably when you cut your head," she pointed out. "You might not ever remember it."

"I know…"

"Once we figure out what the gift is, we might be able to figure out where it's hidden – or who Jeremy might use to fence it."

"I wish I knew what it was."

Beckett could feel that he was beginning to tense again and she brought his hand up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss against it.

"I wish you could remember who Roger was. That might be helpful."

"I'm no help at all," Castle told her, feeling a great big wave of self-pity wash over him out of absolutely nowhere. It came so quick, he couldn't even stop it – and he couldn't censor himself. "I don't remember getting caught, I don't remember getting away and what little I do remember isn't worth remembering because we can't use it for anything…"

Kate sat up, surprised at the hopelessness in his voice.

"It's not that bad, Rick. You're remembering more and more every time you try."

"It's not enough. All we got from it is a few names – and some rock that we don't even know where it is – much less what the fuss is about it."

Beckett frowned.

"A rock?"

"What?"

"You said a rock," she told him. "Did you mean the gift?"

Castle covered his eyes with one hand and leaned back.

"I don't know."

"Did you hear someone – Jeremy, maybe – call it a rock?"

"I don't know."

"Castle-"

"I don't know, Kate!" he snapped.

"I'm sorry."

She'd pushed him too hard, and she knew it. She just hadn't been able to help herself.

He deflated immediately.

"No. I am. Please… I… I'm sorry… I had no right to yell…" he sighed and rubbed his face with the hand that had been covering his eyes. "I don't know why I said rock. It might not mean anything. I might just be-"

"It could be a diamond," Beckett told him. "We'll have Esposito and Ryan check on that in the morning.

"We could just look it up now," Castle said.

"No. Not while we're safehoused. No Internet, no calls on an unsecured phone. My phone has Internet, but the web isn't secure, only the calls and the tracking. We'll remember, and we'll call it in in the morning. Or go in, if we need to."

"And until then I'll try to keep remembering…" he said.

"No." She'd pushed him, but now she was going to haul him back. "You're going to bed."

"But-"

"With me."

"Um… okay…"