When Beckett came to, she was lying in the back of a moving vehicle with something tied around her face and what felt like handfuls of pulverised glass burning her throat and eyes. She instantly gasped, coughed and tried to sit up, but felt strong arms gripping her shoulders. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," said a man's voice that she didn't know.

Where were her captors taking her now? What were they going to do to her? Or had they already done it? She had to get free, to get out of this nightmare and back to Castle. Oh, Castle. Had Tyson captured him, too? Or was he out looking for her? She tried to fight the man off, to get her hands free to check that her face was still in one piece, but she realised she was completely lightheaded and beyond tired. Her arms didn't seem to be working properly. They must have drugged her.

"Easy there, ma'am, easy. Try and take slow breaths. You're in an ambulance. You were in a fire. Do you remember?"

A fire? That didn't make any sense at all. She'd been in the plastic-draped room with Kelly Nieman. She tried to remember ... Nieman standing over her with a scalpel ... breaking free ... they'd wrestled and grappled with each other, but she'd overpowered the doctor. Nieman's arms may have had a surgeon's steadiness, but in the end they couldn't match Kate's strength. With horror, she remembered how she'd turned the woman's own scalpel on her, their faces close enough to feel the breath go out of her. Had that really happened?

And after that ... nothing. So when had there been a fire?

Gradually her heart stopped racing and her breathing slowed. The fog in her brain was clearing a little. There were the sirens, and there was the paramedic's face, a little blurry but reassuringly kind and concerned. The thing around her face wasn't a gag, but an oxygen mask. She really was in an ambulance, and she must be safe.

Suddenly she became aware of a fiery pain shooting all up her right calf. How had she not noticed that before? She gasped again and tried to reach towards it – it was excruciating. "You don't wanna do that, Detective," said the paramedic. "You've got full thickness burns on that leg. Also, you inhaled some pretty nasty smoke back there. You're gonna be pretty groggy for a while. So just you try and breathe in that O2 and relax, and we'll take care of you and your husband."

"Castle? Where is he?" she tried to say, but all that came out was rasps and coughs. None of this was making any sense. She drifted away into a sea of nothingness once more.

The next thing she was aware of was a bracing blast of cold air, the rattle of wheels beneath her and a cacophony of sirens and voices. There was another gurney being unloaded not far away that was quickly surrounded by a wall of gowned personnel and pushed on ahead of her. Castle.

She recognised Esposito running along with it. "You got this, bro, you're gonna be fine. We took him down — you got Beckett out — it's over. You did good. I'll stay with her, you just get yourself patched up, man. Don't worry about a thing." He was rambling. He must be pretty scared.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're going to have to ask you to wait here," someone told him, as the two gurneys were wheeled into a blindingly bright corridor, and suddenly all the outside noise fell away. Then, "Mr Castle, we're going to take you straight up to CT, and then on to surgery." A dozen other voices were echoing over and around her, but through it all she thought she could hear muffled moans of pain coming from the other gurney. Was she imagining it? She tried to reach out, but her hands were too heavy. Then he was gone.

She awoke properly in a hospital bed, lying on her side. Someone was sitting next to her.

"Castle?" she croaked.

"Yo, Beckett, you're awake!" It was Esposito. "Hey, hey, don't try to move. You're burnt up the back of your calf. You don't wanna be rolling onto your back. Want some of this?" He handed her a paper cup with a straw, and with some effort she raised her head enough to drink a few sips of water. Her throat really was a wreck.

"What happened?"

"First things first, you took down Nieman and we took down Tyson. They're both dead. You're back in the city now."

"Where was I?" she asked.

"Putnam County. Tyson was holed up in an old friend's house in the woods, and you were in another house a few miles down the road. He was watching you through a video link."

"Yeah, I saw the camera. Figured I was meant to be the evening's entertainment." Her hand shook as she reached to return the cup to the nightstand, and Espo intercepted it gently. Their eyes were both drawn to a ragged cluster of cuts along the side of her wrist. A few little bits of tape adorned the small ones, but the largest was sporting a line of half a dozen stitches.

"Nieman's work?"

She shook her head, gingerly touching as near them as she dared. So neat and tidy and clean. "It was me. I had about a split second to cut my other hand free after I knocked her back."

Espo's face clouded over. "Hope you broke her nose," he said darkly.

Beckett didn't want to think about that right now. "What about Castle?" she pressed.

"Well, as soon as Tyson was down, Castle bolted after you and left us without the car, and then we saw that the place was filling up with smoke, and your feet were still tied up. All that plastic hanging around, you passed out pretty quick from the fumes. Ryan kept watching you on the monitor, and I found Tyson's car and followed as quick as I could, but of course Castle was straight in there after you. He pulled you from a burning building, Kate. Man's a freakin' hero."

She smiled faintly. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"I pulled up just as he was getting you clear of the building, and good thing, too, 'cause he ..." He trailed off and made non-committal sounds.

"What?" Beckett demanded. "Javi, just please tell me: is he okay?" A bubble of panic rose in her chest at the look on his face.

"He's ... he's pretty burned up," said Esposito tensely. "Look, we don't know what happened in there. We were all still on coms. He'd gotten you out of the room and the worst of the smoke, and suddenly there was a crash and he screamed. We couldn't get a coherent word out of him after that, and he was taking forever to get out. We figure something must have fallen on his hand and pinned him down, 'cause it looked pretty smashed. His hand."

Beckett pressed a hand to her mouth and felt a prickle in her eyes.

"By the time I got there," Espo continued, "the flames had taken a hold and he was bursting through the front door, but he looked ready to pass out. I grabbed you off of him and pulled you both away. He's in surgery. He's gonna be fine, Kate. He has to be." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to tell the nurse you're awake, okay? And maybe she'll have an update on Castle." He got up and headed for the door.

"Wait ... Javi?" she called, frowning as her lethargic brain still struggled to put the pieces together. "How come I'm not more badly burnt? I was in there, too."

"He was wearing some fancy-ass pure wool coat. He threw it over you."

Of course he did. Stupid, reckless man. She was going to be furious with him when she saw him.