You all are awesome! End of story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, ABC, or any of their affiliates.

Language warning: F-Bomb ahead.

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NYPD Homicide Detective Javier Esposito had never really been one for nerves. Even as a small child, he had been the one to charge ahead of everyone else. First to climb the monkey bars. First to ride a bike. First to jump off the swings. And, consequentially, first to get a cast. Even after his childhood, he had been a trailblazer. Ignoring fear, and accepting the challenge. Esposito had proved early on that he wasn't afraid of blood, sweat or mud, and that he thrived on a little confrontation.

It was those characteristics that had carried him through high school, and into the service. His record was exemplary. Spotless. He went where he was told to go, did what he had to do, and served as a damn fine leader. He had a pretty impressive drawer of medals and pins in his desk in his apartment, and had only left the service to accept his next great challenge. Lord knows he had seen things. Done things, even. But he stayed strong. Solid.

And yet, sitting there in the bar next to Ryan, waiting for Castle to show, he got the distinct sense that he was in way over his head.

Ryan shifted uncomfortably on the stool next to him, "Hey, bro?"

Esposito turned his head to look at his partner, one eyebrow raised.

"Is it ah, is it too late to leave?"

Esposito smirked, knowing his friend felt the same way he did. "Yupp."

"But he's not here yet."

"Which is why we're waiting."

"Don't you…I don't know…"

Esposito looked at him seriously, "Spit it out, bro."

"I don't know, man, it just kinda seems like it isn't really any of our business, you know?" Ryan said carefully, "I mean, it's Castle's life, right?"

"We aren't doing this for Castle," Esposito reminded him, "We're doing this for Beckett."

Ryan nodded, taking the reminder of purpose to heart, "And she's our business."

Esposito nodded once too, "Exactly."

As if on cue, Castle chose that moment to walk into the little bar and take a seat next to the duo. He was smiling brightly, and walked with the spring of someone who was excited to see his friends, but his eyes betrayed his wariness. "Hey, fellas…"

Esposito gave a nod, while Ryan offered a simple, "Hey."

"So, you, uh," Castle motioned for a beer, "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, about Beckett," Esposito told him, figuring it would be best to simply rip the metaphorical band-aid off the wound.

Immediately, Castle's face dimmed, "I was afraid you'd say that," he said, taking a swig of his beverage.

"Look, man, we know you're mad at her," Ryan began, "But – "

"But nothing," Castle cut him off sharply, "Detective Beckett made her choice. She acted how she acted. Please, don't try and justify that."

"Believe it or not, she had her reasons," Esposito said, matching Castle's level of annoyance.

"Some damn good ones, too," Ryan added.

"I don't care," Castle said carefully, every word bitter, "I don't care why she did it. All I know is that she did. She lied to me. About everything."

"Her name is Kate, Castle," Esposito said gravely, "It's Kate. Say her fucking name. You know it."

Castle grit his teeth, "If that's all you called to talk to me about, I think I should go."

"Don't bother," Esposito said, standing in near unison with Ryan, "But let me say this," he brought his face dangerously close, barely suppressed rage making his dark eyes even darker, "You know things with her aren't always black and white. You know that she's complicated. We all told you that. Hell, she told you that. You stuck around. Made her think you were in it for the long haul. Not our fault you couldn't handle as much as you said you could. And it's not hers either."

"But don't worry," Ryan said, mouth pressed into a thin line, whole body tense, "We've been Beckett's life preservers since long before you ever came along and took the job. Except, there's a key difference. We don't leave. Even when she yells."

The pair started to walk away, making it to the door before Esposito stopped and called, "Oh, by the way, you're buying," and left.

Katherine Beckett leaned against her desk, staring at the Murder Board.

It was 11 o'clock by that point, and her shift had technically ended hours ago, but she couldn't let herself leave. She had to know. None of it added up. A gang of hard-core druggies goes on a killing spree, and recruits two high school students to help? And now, a girl, who may not have even been connected, was dead too?

In her usual block letters, Beckett wrote, "Why these students?" on the board and circled it. As of that moment, the two juveniles that were connected to the case were sitting in a jail cell, lawyer-ed up, and awaiting trial.

The interrogation sessions with each of them had been fruitless. Sitting there with their parent's lawyer, they had felt big. Tough. Untouchable. They were gang bangers now. And well-represented gang bangers at that. She had even sent Espo and Ryan in after them. It hadn't made a difference. The two boys had each respectively leaned back in their chairs, and dared her to charge them.

Nothing like a couple of cocky teenagers to make your day.

The frustrating part wasn't that she didn't think they would get a conviction. In fact, she had total confidence that they would. They had gathered plenty of evidence that any jury would be a fool not to buy. And while she had been surprised before, she highly doubted that was going to be the case with these two.

No, the frustrating part was that while she had all the evidence in the world that they were involved – and that would be enough for a conviction – she couldn't figure out how they were connected to the gang in the first place. How they had initially gotten involved. The piece that would break everything wide open

Beckett's green eyes roamed the board, reviewing each detail until it was drilled into her mind, looking for an answer to her all-important question. It was then that, true to form, something else popped out at her.

A slow smile crawled across her face, and she strode briskly to her desk phone, snatching it off the receiver and punching in a familiar number, "Yes, hi, this is Detective Beckett. Can you please get Zach Grey from his holding cell and escort him into interrogation? Thank you."

She walked back up to the Murder Board, grabbed the photo of their female victim (one Rebecca Davidson), and headed toward interrogation.

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