Ryan was almost proud of himself for pretending lightheartedness when he invited his best friend to a round of beers, hoping and praying it would snap Javi out of the strange mood he'd been in since the gang returned from Lafayette's office.

As if body language hadn't been enough, Esposito had gone out of his way giving Castle the silent treatment, either ignoring the writer altogether or glaring at him each time the opportunity arose.

Thankfully, after some gentle nudging from yours truly, he'd agreed to come along for a beverage or two. At this stage, Ryan was ready to get his best friend drunk if it meant making it through that thick skull.

As such, they'd found a quiet place at the end of the bar, no other patron nearby for at least 4 chairs, subdued music, a football game playing on the TVs in the background, the bartender not attentive enough to disrupt their bonding time too much.

With both of them nursing a half-full glass of beer, Ryan waited until Esposito took another overdue sip, before clearing his throat.

"You look like this case is getting under your skin a bit. Everything ok, Javi? Castle do something stupid?"

Esposito didn't glance over at him. Instead, he began twirling his glass, watching the waves of white foam rise and fall with each move.

"It's just…never mind."

"Come on, bro, you know you can talk to me."

Upon his urgent plea, Esposito turned around to face him, those caring brown eyes he'd gotten used to over the past few years having turned bitter.

"A good man's dead, Kev. An even better one is being investigated for his murder. And while we're busy trashing Lafayette's name, our real killer is out on the loose. And he will strike again, mark my words. I'm gonna tell you right now, so help me God if he goes after Lafayette next."

"You really like this guy, don't you? Beckett said that he taught you some pretty good coping techniques when things got, you know…when things got rough."

Disguising his nervousness beneath a big gulp of beer, Ryan waited patiently for his partner to answer, knowing how hard it was to pry these things out of a guy who made a living looking and acting tough as nails.

Esposito hesitated for a long time, struggling with the subject, the creases in his forehead deepening as he drew in an shuddered breath.

"In the beginning it was just the loud noises that sent me scattering to the floor. I got used to that after a while. The people I knew back than got it, or at least they said they did. It got better after a while too. I'd still flinch and all, but it wasn't such a scene anymore. But then there were other triggers, smells, sights, that oily residue on your hands after you clean your gun, the smell of guts exposed to fresh air at a crime scene. It would make me zone out completely, and by the time I snapped out of it, I was covered in sweat, my heart racing, hands shaking, I couldn't remember how I ended up where I was. So, I got used to that and just kept telling myself that things would get better eventually. But at night…at night I couldn't hide from my demons, and they sought me out relentlessly. It turned into a vicious cycle and by the time I went to see Lafayette, I was surviving on two hours of sleep a night, an abhorrent amount of energy drinks and candy bars just to make it through another day, on the verge of a complete mental breakdown and with a plan to end it all should that appointment not change things. Because I knew I couldn't keep going like that, I couldn't keep seeing those images, reliving those horrors. But Lafayette…he just…he got it. He knew what was going on in my head. He knew about that feeling of helplessness, the brain fog, the…the images that are so vivid it makes your body go into fight or flight mode. And somehow, he even knew about my exit strategy."

Struggling to swallow the knot in his throat, Ryan reached over to grasp his partner's shoulder, squeezing it tightly for a complete and utter lack of ideas on what to say.

"I never met a man that I could feel so comfortable talking to when it came to this. And he actually listened. And he cared. He was the first guy who didn't throw pills at me. Instead, he discussed my family situation, my support network, ways I could create an internal reward system for good days, so that I would be reminded of it on the bad days. It was like night and day, man."

"It must have felt strange seeing him again today, eh?"

"Not as strange as I thought…", Esposito admitted, all that prior tension and anger slowly vanishing from his features the longer he talked, "It felt like we could just go on where we left off, like I'd just seen him yesterday. And he remembered me too, which is pretty amazing considering how many guys walk through that door on a regular basis."

"Well, you are a hard guy to forget.", Ryan teased, eternally grateful to see a faint smile return to his partner's lips.

"He and I had it out one time. I was so angry and frustrated, and I let it all out on him. He wouldn't let me get away with it and ordered me to stand down so I threw a punch at the guy. Now, you gotta understand, he has about a foot in height and another 100lbs on me. You should have seen the hell he unleashed for the next few minutes."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait…he beat you up?"

With his eyes wide, Ryan reached for his beer, taking a precautionary sip as he tried to understand what Esposito had said, the words not lining up with the picture of positivity he'd been given minutes ago.

"I threw the first punch. And then he lit into me.", Esposito explained, undeniably proud of the encounter, "I think in his own ways, he wanted to show me that I did care about myself, about not getting hurt or killed. I won't lie, when he wrapped that arm around my neck, I swore he was gonna lose it and kill me. But instead of breaking my neck, he just stayed there, and forced me in a position where I couldn't move, and he kept asking me over and over again if I wanted to die. There's your chance, Javier, just say the word, I am here to help you, just say the word and I will end it for you right here. That's what you want, isn't it, Javier? He just kept going on for minutes. I…I couldn't answer the first few times, but in the end, I…I did answer. I said no."

Feeling the discomfort of the odd situation turn his stomach into a geyser of acid, Ryan nodded hesitantly, afraid to derail their open conversation with the wrong remark.

"Did you…did you ever hear about him using those…alternate methods on others? Did it work for them too?"

Still enamored with the memory, Esposito didn't catch onto his misgivings. Instead, he shrugged indifferently and drank from his beer.

"I wouldn't know. These are private sessions. And I get why outsiders wouldn't understand the whole concept but for us vets…well…it worked for me. He gave me back a part of my life I thought I'd lost. And I am glad that it just took a good beating."

Cringing inwardly, Ryan brought his glass over to his partner's for a toast.

"Yeah…me too, Javi, me too…"