"I'm guessing by the trail of bodies you've left, most motherfuckers you discuss business with end up dead," Fury answered and holstered his own weapon in acceptance of this sudden and shaky truce. He waved away the offered vodka and leaned back against the door with his arms crossed. Just because they'd both laid down their guns didn't mean he was laying down his guard. His best tactic, he guessed, was to dive right in before this fucker decided to use him for target practice again.
"You're a murdering asshole," he said bluntly and shrugged before amending, "But you take out other murdering assholes, guys the police and the DA can't even touch, so kudos to you. Still, those guys are small fry compared to what you could be doing. You seem to do this vigilante shit pro bono-" Castle might be able to get some good sums now and then but stolen money could only get him so far and- in this case- his scavenging had got him caught. "You ever consider working on the government payroll?"
It would be such a waste of talent if he had to lock this nutjob away. Nick knew that he had a tragic past and his killing spree was probably some self-righteous justice bull shit, but if they could get his angst-ridden ass to a therapist, Fury figured that S.H.I.E.L.D. just might be able to make a class A agent out of him.