Disclaimer: I do not own the Castle characters, they are the product of the genius A.M.

This badass villain is mine, though. :)

Bzzz! The vibration of the cell phone against the wooden nightstand was like a machine gun. Detective Ryan rolled over in bed. "Please let this be a dream," he thought, cracking an eye. To his disappointment, the buzzing continued. He sighed and picked up the phone. Checking the caller ID, he let out a low groan. "Iron Gates, at 3:30 in the morning?" He let it go to voicemail, knowing Gates would probably fire him for the inevitable sarcasm in his tone if he talked to her now. It buzzed again, signaling a text message. Opening up the message, he groaned again.

Got a body, get down here now. Following was the address of an abandoned warehouse in Chelsea. Ryan rolled out of bed and began to dress.

"Honey? What are you doing?" Ryan turned to see Jenny sitting up in bed, peering at him through barely-opened lids.

"I have a job to do. I'm sorry," he replied.

"Kevin, it's 3:30 in the morning, can't the Captain let you off this once?" she complained. She knew she sounded whiny, but this was just a bit too much.

"I'm sorry, we're down on detectives. I wish I could stay but I can't. I love you." He answered.

She sighed and lay back down. Ryan grabbed his gun from the drawer and left, praying she wouldn't think she had made a mistake in marrying a cop. He trudged down the stairs to the parking lot. Climbing in the car, he pulled out his phone to call Esposito. Then he remembered: Espo was suspended. Because of what he had done. He sighed and put his phone away. Grimacing at the loud rumble of his engine at 3:45, he pulled out. "This better be good," he thought.

On the drive there, he thought about Esposito. Why was he so mad? He'd be dead if Ryan hadn't told Gates! He thought back to the conversation he had had with Castle at The Old Haunt a few weeks ago. Remembering that night was painful for him, but he tried not to let it show. Still, if Esposito knew that story, would he really still be mad? That thought stuck with him. He hadn't told Esposito that story, but he had told Castle. So, what did that mean? He trusted Castle more than his bro?

He got to the address and climbed out of the car, feeling very awkward without his partner. Stepping inside, he felt a shiver travel up his spine as Captain Gates approached him. Since suspending Beckett and Esposito, Gates had taken to tagging along at the crime scenes, "to supervise", but really just to make sure her detectives didn't do anything without her approval. Gates scared the crap out of him, not that he would ever say that to anyone. She looked in the direction of the crime scene tape, then back at him expectantly. He sighed and stepped under the yellow tape to where Lanie crouched. The victim was male, mid-forties. He looked at the ME. She ignored him. He sighed. Was everyone mad at him?

"Cause of death?" he asked. Lanie glared at him, but softened her look when she saw the pain in his eyes.

"Single GSW to the head, looks like a .45. Not a through-and-through, it's probably lodged in his brain somewhere. I'll know more when I get it back. No ID, by the way."

Ryan thanked her and began walking around the large room , empty other than the dead body on the floor. It looked like an tetanus breeding center, and he made sure to watch out for any nails sticking out of the rotting wood. There was an old boarded up window on the back wall that showed a partial view behind the building. An old dumpster with spray-paint expletives and a rickety wooden staircase decorated the dark, shadowy alley. He flashed back almost thirty years, when he had first met Javier Esposito in a similar looking alley. "Who knew we'd be partners twenty years later?" he thought, stepping away from the window and approaching Capt. Gates.

"I'll canvass the building next door, see if anyone heard or saw anything." Gates nodded and walked away. Ryan sighed, still tired from being woken up so early. He straightened his hair to look presentable and went to go talk to the neighbors.

Four hours later, after his interviews resulted in a prime example of the "see no evil, hear no evil" attitude of New Yorkers, he tried to call Esposito. No answer. The guy really knew how to hold a grudge. He hung up before voicemail answered, not wanting to give Esposito the satisfaction of knowing he had called.

He got out at the precinct and called Jenny. He got her voicemail and left a message, knowing that at least she wasn't angry. He hoped anyway. After his disappearance that morning (at 3:30 no less!), he may not have been on the best of terms with her.

He walked into the precinct and dropped into his seat, reviewing his notes from the canvass. Nothing useful came jumping out at him. He thought back to the neighbors and one came to mind. A grey haired man named Jason Wilkins who looked every bit a dealer. Something about him struck Ryan as familiar; he just couldn't quite figure it out.

Shaking off the creepy feeling, he tried Esposito again. Again, no answer. And again, he left no indication that he had even called.

Esposito lay on his couch, not sure what to do. Being suspended indefinitely wasn't just the most degrading thing that could've happened to him, he was also bored out of his mind. Single and out of a job, albeit temporarily, there was nothing he could do but sit around his apartment and think. A dangerous habit, and something that he knew "He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named"- his "partner" and "former" best friend- did a lot of. No wonder he had double crossed him and Beckett and gotten them suspended.

He heard his cell phone vibrate. A brief flash of hope crossed his mind. "Maybe it's Lanie, looking for a bootie call." That thought lasted until he looked at his watch. 7:30 a.m. She was at work. Because she wasn't suspended. His heart sank as he looked at the caller ID and saw his partner's smiling face staring up at him. He didn't want to talk to him. He knew he shouldn't be mad; after all, he had saved his and Beckett's lives, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed. He'd felt this before, when he found out his old partner had faked his death and gone off the grid. He watched as the phone reached its fifth ring before the caller hung up. Sighing in despair, he fell back on his couch. This would be a long suspension.