Whenever I watch the end of season 5, I always HATE the way they leave Tim! Everyone else's life seems to be shaping into something amazing, but his is still so full of uncertainty and loose ends.

I also hate how Lyla and Tim never got any sort of happy ending. Tyra coming back seemed so forced to be and it seemed obvious that she was a second choice in that situation.

But what if it had been Lyla that had come back? This story basically takes off after the last episode of season 5, but replace all the Tyra scenes with Lyla! It starts off right after the picnic scene, where Tim talks about their dreams meeting up one day.

Another note: for the sake of this story Coach and Tami are NOT leaving Dillon but decide to stay. I'm erasing Philadelphia and that job offer completely.

I will still continue working on "Full grown" and will update soon!

Please review and tell me what you all think! If there's interest, I can add more chapters. If not, I'll leave it as a one-shot!

"I have dreams too. I'm going to build a house exactly where we're sitting and I'll get a job. And I'm never going to do anything illegal for the rest of my life. Guarantee it. Maybe one day our dreams can merge together." Tim tentatively sipped his beer, staring off into the wide expanse of his land. The last time he'd seen Lyla Garrity, he'd said his goodbyes and had convinced himself that was it. He'd told her at Billy's wedding that he didn't want to be the guy that held her back and he knew that if he didn't cut her out, she'd let him. But things were different now; he wasn't the wandering anymore. Jail could do that to you: put someone in a small cell with nothing to do for hours upon hours but think and they would eventually be forced to come up with some sort of life plan.

"I'd like that." Lyla stated simply, a smile creeping onto her face. She couldn't stop looking at him; all she wanted to do was touch and make sure he was real. When Buddy had told her about Tim going to jail, she'd been furious. He knew better than that, he was better than some washed up high school football star turned criminal. She hated herself for ever even giving him a chance and was even more furious for shedding tears for Tim Riggins. But when she saw him at her dads bar, she'd softened: this wasn't the Tim she knew, this was someone who was hard and cold and humorless. How could anyone stay mad at someone who had clearly learnt their lesson? When she heard about his cover-up for Billy, her heart simultaneously soared and severed. Back in the day, Tim used to tell Jason he'd be the "caretaker" on his million dollar ranch; keeping all the pieces together while Jason went off to be a star. Those dreams were nothing but memories now, but Tim had always been the "caretaker", the one with the biggest heart out of all of them.

"What are your dreams these days, Garrity? Last I checked, they didn't involve Dillon." Tim drawled, finally looking at her. She looked beautiful, the sun hitting her just right as it sank below the horizon.

"You never know how much you miss something until it's gone, Tim." College had been an amazing experience for Lyla. Her eyes were opened to a whole new world with a different set of rules. Vanderbilt promised culture, people from all different walks of life with difference experiences to share and an array of opportunities to become whoever you wanted to be. But all the things she took for granted in Dillon were suddenly apparent: no one stopped to say hello, you could get lost in the sea of people and places around you, and there was no community to catch you when you fall. She'd missed this place, despite its football madness and collection of characters.

"Trust me, I know that one real well. I don't think I've ever appreciated being able to take a piss in private quite as much as I do now." Prison had been both an experiment in solitude and constant company for Tim. You spent tons of time sitting in your cell, essentially alone. But you were never in fact truly 'alone' with cameras, the cold stare of guards and the equally dark looks of fellow inmates following you every step of the way. The first week back, Billy had been all about family time and including Tim in every celebration for his 'homecoming', thinking his little brother was lonely yet all Tim had wanted to do was crawl into the Airstream and sleep in utter solitude for as long as he could.

"Let's take a walk." Lyla offered, lifting herself heavily out of the lawn chair which had sunk deeply into the soft earth. She wasn't quite sure how to talk to Tim about prison. It's not like she could relate; during the summer of junior high her parents had forced her to go to some Bible camp up in Oklahoma against her will but she didn't think that was a fair comparison.

"I'll take you out back to the lake. I guess it's more a pond now, but Billy said in the spring it really swells up. I'm thinking I'll put a dock in and it can be a little swimming hole for Stevie and all the future Rigglets." Tim beamed when talking about his land. He hadn't quite worked out what he was going to do for the rest of his life, but he did have a meticulously laid out plan for how he was going to build his dream home. This place, it was all his, which with the exception of his truck, was something he'd never had before.

"Tim Riggins, the property owner. I guess you beat Jason to it, huh?" Lyla slid his hand into his as they started walking, his big callused paw dwarfing her dainty fingers. Tim smiled, letting his hair fall into his face. He and Jason had written consistently while he was in prison. It had kept him sane, that small piece of normalcy left in his life. Street talked about Noah and how he was such a handful, how he'd finally found that life he'd thought he'd lost forever during that fateful football game.

"6 will be out here all right. Noah can teach Stevie how to throw a ball properly and get all the ladies, like Jay taught me. We all know Billy ain't worth a damn for anything but yellin'." He'd never admit it to him, but Tim was proud of Billy, now a Panthers coach. He'd pulled himself together, although he still drank too much and should properly invest in some Trojans before Mindy started repopulating the earth. But he'd come a long way, Tim had to give him that.

"God, when did we grow up Tim? I still remember trying to convince you to do your math homework. And sneaking out of my room to go meet up with Jason at the Alamo Freeze. Now he has a baby and you're building a house and…" Lyla stopped, coming to the edge of the pond. The setting sun was reflected across the glassy water, making the stifling heat and buzzing gnats worth the view. Tim pulled up behind her, tentatively wrapping his arms around her. She sunk back into him, enjoying the solidness against her back. He smelled like nostalgia; sneaking into her room late at night and mumbling 'I love you' to the rhythm of her squeaking bed.

"What about you? Are you grown up yet, Lyla?" Tim felt like holding his breath, he still couldn't believe she was here and that she was, at least in this moment, his. Touching her, holding her felt so right and familiar, like sinking into a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. Yet, it also made him feel like he was staring into sun, unable to look away despite the risk of a serious burn. Last night, after kissing in the parking lot, both hungry for more, he'd taken her back to the trailer and had the best sex of his life. He was ravenous for human contact, for love, after being deprived and for whatever reason she was happy to provide it. It had been both rough and slow, meaningful and depraved but perfect in all the ways that mattered.

"I'm getting there. I think when I left for Vanderbilt, I thought I was already all grown up. God, I was so self-absorbed. I always knew everything, right? But I've still got a lot to learn I think." The sun was setting in earnest now, the light around the pond quickly fading.

"I'd say you still know plenty. You knew me better than I knew myself most times. You and Coach, the only two people who ever gave a shit." Tim smiled into her hair, remembering in particular his senior year of high school when not a day went by that one of them did not call him an idiot, but always with the best intentions. He reckoned they were probably right, thinking back onto those days of six pack beers before breakfast and the constant promise of a hangover.

"There's not a lot of people out there like Coach and Mrs. Taylor. You learn that pretty fast in the big city. We're lucky out here, because people like that are attracted to this place for some reason." After her first few weeks at Vanderbilt, Lyla had had a breakdown of sorts. For the first time in years, school was hard. Her roommate was a bitch and she wasn't making friends like she thought she would. She'd headed down to the university's student help centre, reminiscing of all the times Mrs. Taylor had pulled her aside after Jason's accident and let her cry it out in private in her office. But this wasn't Dillon and the counsellors at Vanderbilt had no time for little girls that were homesick; if you didn't have a drug problem, an unplanned pregnancy or serious family emergency you were handed a pamphlet on 'Coping' and ushered out before you could even begin.

"I think it's why you're back here too, isn't it? As much as you try, Garitty, you just don't have it in you to be one of those slick city girls. I bet you still wear the same cowboy boots and jeans you did back in high school, huh?" Tim spun her around and wrapped his arms around her waist, hands resting comfortable in the back pocket of her jeans. He remembered what he felt like when he'd gone to New York City with Jay, like a bull in a china shop. He imagined Lyla was a bit more refined than him, but it still wasn't where she belonged either.

"I'm here for some good educational opportunities. We'll see what comes out of it." Lyla said, somewhat defensively, not wanting to admit to Tim that he was right. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her, a familiar feeling she'd longed for but forced herself to repress for so long now.

"Yeah? Any other kind of opportunities you here for?" He whispered quietly against her lips. He'd heard from Buddy that she was doing a co-op term with Mrs. Taylor at East Dillon, working with her as an assistant counsellor of some sort. Tami had pulled some strings and the moment East Dillon heard the words "unpaid intern" they'd jumped at the opportunity to milk a young college student for all she was worth. He knew she'd be good at it. Heck, she'd been 'counselling' Jason and him for years, long before she had any qualifications for it! He still remembered their trip to Mexico and how she was the only one he thought had a chance in hell of convincing Jay of anything.

"I've got some thoughts about things. I hear that Luke Caffertey is pretty cute and a better running back than some guy that goes by #33. Figured I'd check him out…"She replied coyly.

"Oh, now you've done it, Garitty. Come here!" Tim hoisted her up over his shoulder amidst her laughter and girl-ish screams of protest. He dumped her back in their lawn chairs, now barely visible in the fading sunlight, kneeling before her.

"I missed you, Tim Riggins," She said with a smile on her face, running her hands through his too long and unruly hair. He smiled and said nothing, the look in his hazel eyes echoing volumes back at her. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Let's go home."

Tim nodded, gathering up their chairs and making their way back to the truck. Lyla slid in beside him, feeling the familiar leather seat crackle under her legs. This felt right, it felt like home.

/

"So are you going to stay in the Airstream until everything's built?" The trailer was fairly well kept all things considering, but it was small and technically, it wasn't even his. She was laying in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to decide if the rust shaped stains had been there the last time she was here.

"For now, yeah. Becky's mom feels pretty guilty about everything that went down before I left so she's not even charging me rent. I'm thinking I'll give her some cash and see if she'll let me hitch it up and drive it up to the land. No sense in owning property if you can't rest your house on it." Tim rolled over onto his stomach, naked and tangled in the sheets, to get a better look at her. She had the glow of a woman freshly ravished, which he'd thought he'd done a fine job of. Back in his Dillon Panthers days, he used to jump from girl to girl, never really satisfied with repeat encounters. It was all about 'making memories' and it wasn't really a new memory if you'd already been there once. But with Lyla, it was new every time; he'd once told her she was the best he'd ever had and to this day almost 4 years later he still stood by that.

"How is Becky, by the way? Am I going to find her writing 'Mrs. Tim Riggins' all over her notebooks? Or hiding in the closet, waiting to pounce on you?" She's seen Becky Sproles at the Alamo Freeze earlier in the week. Even from a distance, it was obvious that the young, uncertain teenager had matured into a strong, confident woman who wasn't past yelling at the manager for scrimping on her order of fries.

"Nah she's got Luke for that now. Poor guy, off to military training but she mails him these bride magazines weekly, asking what color pew bows he'd like for their wedding. He came home for the weekend a while back and they watched 6 straight seasons of those garbage wedding shows where girls scream about some six figure white poofball. Makes Mindy look like a saint." That was saying something, considering Mindy had demanded a wedding dress complete with attached fairy wings, which had not come easy nor cheap. Lyla laughed, her eyes starting to droop.

"Let's get to sleep Garitty. We've got plenty of time to catch you up on all the Dillon, Texas social news in the morning." Tim kissed her forehead, grabbing his pillow and quickly dozing off himself.

/

"AHHHHHH!" Tim hollered, jumping out of bed and banging his head with a loud thud against the trailer wall. Lyla leaped out of bed, awakened abruptly by his sudden outburst. He was sitting up, sheets pushed in a puddle on his lab, bent over and gasping for air. She could see his fresh tattoo stretching across his ribs, straining with each of his pained gulps for air. "No regrets", it said in some foreign tongue, although she could bet he harbored some.

"Are…are you okay?" Lyla had never seen him like this, so broken and pained. His eyes shined madly, reflecting pain that he wasn't ready to talk about yet. His whole body seemed to be shaking with nervous energy, she could almost feel it vibrating off of him. It made her heart hurt for him.

"Yeah…I just…just need some air." He pulled himself out of bed, sliding on his briefs and jumping out of the trailer. Standing outside, he stared up at the sky, heaving for air and trying to calm himself. He was fine, he was out, he was free. But his brain hadn't caught up to those facts yet. On especially hot summer nights, with the stifling head pressing all around him, he was reminded of what it felt like to be caged and to not be able to get away. He could hear the crickets chirping outside, a sound he'd missed. Prison was full of sounds, none of them pleasant. When he'd first gotten out, the silence had been welcoming. But now, it was just as sinister; he would start to hear sounds come out of the quiet, screams and grunts and the constant noise of 200 men breathing in small, tiny cages.

"Come on." Lyla was dragging his ratty mattress through the trailer door, looking quite comical as she tried to keep the sheet wrapped around herself. She probably thought he was crazy and unstable now, a grown man plagued by child-like nightmares.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he grabbed the corner of the mattress she was struggling with and effortlessly pulled it through the trailer door. She looked a little stunned, her hair still messy from sleep.

"It's too hot in there. Let's sleep out here. We can set up behind the trailer where the ground is clear and no one can see us." Before he could even protest, she'd managed to tie the sheet up and grab the mattress in earnest, placing it on the dry concrete slab behind his living quarters.

"You sure about this?" Lyla wasn't the outdoorsy type and he could bet she'd never slept outside like this before. Maybe in one of those ultra-camper things Buddy owned, which was nicer than his childhood home, but never truly outside with no barrier between her and nature.

"Yeah now get in here before a snake crawls in or something." He complied, shaking off that feeling of anxiety that always came over him after the nightmares and sliding up to her on the narrow mattress. This felt good, like he wasn't trapped by anything. The gentle summer breeze did little to cool them off but feeling it across his clammy skin kept him grounded and in the present, living as a free man.

"Thank you." He whispered quietly, sliding his arms around her. She said nothing, intertwining her body with his and closing her eyes as she pressed her face into his chest, listening to the slowing rhythm of his heart.