Milpitas, California 1981 (4 months after Atlanta)

"He took his friends to see the body, Jesus", the local detective was thankful Bill and Holden had time to look over a case when they finished road school. A young girl, all of 14, named Marcy Renee Conrad had gone missing. It hadn't taken long to pinpoint a local hothead and fellow student 16 year old Anthony Jacques Broussard as a prime suspect. As it turns out, they didn't need to sweat him all that hard. After word got out that the feds were in town, two high schools kids showed up at the station and took them to the body. Anthony had been bragging to anyone that would listen that he killed a girl, and would take kids up to the body in the hills to look at for shits and giggles. At the bar afterwards for the obligatory 'well done, case solved drink' the detective ranted.

"Killers- I get, they're all a time a dozen, selfish, or impulsive, or just plain mean,'' he rambled, "Those other kids though, they went with him and let him show them her body as if it was a joke, only came forward to save their own asses, didn't care about Marcy at all", he finished with a shot of Jamison.

Bill tried hard, really fucking hard, not to notice Holden glancing at him. Like he couldn't make the connection to Brian by himself. He didn't bother sticking around for whatever psychobabble speak Holden had learned from Wendy about children who were involved in murders to come pouring out. Instead, he paid for his drinks and went to start the car to get them to the airport. After all, he had an empty bed to look forward to.

After Atlanta, after Nancy and Brian and his entire life went to shit Bill just...was. He bought a blanket for the bed and some dishes to eat from and went on like the good soldier he was. He got up, went to work, drank a finger whiskey, and went to bed. Bill told his co-workers only the bare minimum of details and tried to get on with the ever increasing workload.

With the expansion of the unit Jim Barney had been hired and his wife and he had finally moved up from Atlanta. Having someone new around to train, someone who doesn't know to look at him as a failure of a husband and father, helped put up a barrier between Bill and the others. Sometimes though it felt as if the others still...hoverd.

Though admittedly not Gregg as much, even though Bill swore he saw Holden looking over his shoulder that night Gregg invited Bill to watch the game at his house (He went, of course, a home-cooked meal that wasn't cereal or take-out, or motel food was too good to pass up; even if that meant an evening of Gregg and his wife acting as in love as the day they married and giggling kids running around, reminding him of his silent house). Gregg was certainly the easiest to deal with though, a single dinner and some polite conversation kept him off Bills back for the most part. Wendy, however, was surprisingly a little more difficult to keep at arm's length.

"Danishes?" she asked walking into the new office space. It was the third time in the four months since Nancy left that she had taken it upon herself to bring breakfast in. Always casually and always enough for everybody, but even Wendy, with as sharp as she is, could not hide how her smile painfully and forcefully tried to brighten when she brought Bill one to his desk.

"There is a new coffee shop near my apartment that just opened ," she explained. "Apparently, you get a free large coffee is you buy a half-dozen of any pastry".

As if that explained the doughnuts from three weeks ago she brought in or the fruit she had brought in and suddenly didn't feel like eating so she handed off to Bill a month or so before that. Wendy's care-taking of sorts surprises him. They have worked together for sometime now but this 'checking in' of sorts is new territory for them.

Holden is essentially still Holden, only more talkative. Sure, he is still a cocksure bastard when he thinks he is right, but he also tries to fill every silence with chatter. Wendy had once told him that Holden fills quiet moments with noise as a way to combat anxiety. About a week after they returned from Milpitas, for example, he would not shut-up the entire drive to Philly for an interview with Joseph Kallinger; asking about Bill's golf- game and racing bets. On the way back Holden spent most of the time describing, in detail, a terrible blind date he had been on recently. It took nearly all of Bill's strength not to strangle him. When they got back to the office it was late and most everybody had gone home. Bill expected Holden to go home too but the kid had to open his mouth.

"You know if you ever want to talk…"

"I don't." Well at least Bill knows why Holden has been so anxious today. He must have been building himself up for this little chat.

Holden sighs as if Bill is the one being difficult, or more accurately, is the one who is almost always difficult. "Well, I think we should Bill, since Nancy left you have been throwing yourself into every case we get without pause"

"As if you don't," Bill shot back tired and not at all in the mood for this conversation "I seem to recall you being so invested in the work that you had a panic attack after visiting Kemper, without leave by the way, and don't get me started on Atlanta".

Maybe that's too harsh, throwing the panic disorder in the kids face. Bill expects him to pull a face at him, or get huffy and leave, instead Holden looks like he does when a suspect starts to sweat in an interrogation. Like he has Bill right where he wants him.

"That's right, and instead of continuing on as I did I modified by behavior. I told you and Wendy what was going on and I delegated some of the interviews to Gregg and Wendy, and now that we have Jim our work-load should be even lighter and yet your the first one here every morning and the last one gone each night." Holden is standing now, with his eyes burning into Bill bright and clear. He has one hand on his hip and another on his chin in his classic 'Sherlock Holmes' pose.

"When you do go home" He continues. "I doubt you get much sleep, and if by the smell of your breath when you come in is any indication, you get what little sleep you do get you achieve by drinking; now I don't think you drink before coming into work, you would never jeopardize the unit like that, but you are most likely drinking yourself to sleep every night. And don't think Wendy and I haven't noticed that you have been losing weight. Bill we just want to help, nobody expects you not to be affected by Nancy and Brian's situation, please just let us help.'' He finishes somewhat desperately.

Bill takes a breath, and then another, and then…

"Fuck you, Holden."

(When Bill leaves, he pretends not to see Holden pull a Valium out of his pocket just another thing he's fucked up).

He goes home, he intends to eat and maybe watch the news a little before turning in to toss and turn. Instead, as he enters the kitchen he sees his whiskey glass out from the night before, just sitting there tempting him like a long pair of legs. Without much thought, he reaches for the nearest bottle, with even less though he forgoes the glass altogether. The first pull burns in the best way possible.

Bill isn't Holden, isn't Wendy, he won't sit there and try to analyze his own behavior, not on a night like tonight. Not with his empty house and his son being like those kids out in California, willing to see something awful and not do anything about it.

Brian

Drink

Nancy

Drink

Holden

Drink

Him

Drink

And on and on he goes until he doesn't feel anything anymore, not even guilt.

The first thing he hears when he starts to gain consciousness-the first fucking thing-

"You can still dress yourself, can you?'

And then he turns and Holden -fucking -Ford is sitting in a plastic hospital chair the color of piss. The world around Holden begins to shift into focus. A beeping monitor, a pinch in his arm, his throat fucking raw, and a god awful antiseptic smell. He can't remember how he got here, Bill would be a liar if he tried to say that waking up in a hospital room with no memory of how he got there did not discomfort him a little. As if reading his mind (which wouldn't surprise him for the kid) he begins explaining.

"You didn't show up to work the day after our conversation," he began. "I thought you were just taking a day to cool off, but Wendy was worried so she went to go check on you"

At this Holden broke eye-contact and looked down at his knees.

"She, um, she found you on the ground. You had thrown up, you weren't breathing," he murmured. "She started CPR and got you breathing again before she called an ambulance, and now your here. So, that's about it."

Christ, this wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't some teenager throwing a tantrum because they got dumped before the prom. He was a grown man, a soldier, a Federal Agent. He was supposed to be able to handle his shit without ending up in the hospital from alcohol poisoning.

"The Doctor said he would be back in a little bit with information on coping strategies, I think it would be a good idea if you listened to him, Bill," Holden insisted. "I'll go tell Wendy you're awake," He finished awkwardly.

"Holden, wait," he started. "I'm sorry about the other night, I know you were just trying to help."

He wasn't sure why he needed to say this now but he felt like he had to.

"I know Bill, I know," Holden replied, his eyes softening. " I'm going to go grab Wendy now. She is getting some food downstairs. She's been worrying, and fair warning, she's pissed".

Holden's warning notwithstanding, Bill was truly not prepared to what Wendy had in store for him. First, she walked in looking disheveled, nothing like the stoic Wendy he has known for years.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" She explodes the second their eyes meet. Honestly, Bill, I can't believe you would be so reckless. What if I hadn't found you, Bill? What then? Did you think about that at all before you tried to drink your weight in whiskey?"

"I know, I'm sorry, you shouldn't of had to find me that way, but thank-you for finding me and saving my life," he meant it, he didn't want to die. Not truly, he wasn't sure what kind of life he was living at the moment but he knew he didn't want to die.

"Holden was beside himself after I had to call him. I have never heard him like that. He still managed to cover with the rest of the unit though so if anyone asks you hit your head playing golf."

"Playing golf?"

"I'm not sure if Holden ever played sports," she smiled. "He has already forgiven you though, which is more than can be said for me." At this, she looked more like the old Wendy. Bill knew he was in trouble.

"To make it up to me you are going to stay in my guest bedroom for a little bit," she started, holding up her hand when he started protesting. "Not indefinitely, just until you get back on your feet. Maybe re-furnish the house and establish more regular contact with Brian. Have you heard from them at all?"

"Here and there, maybe once a month," he admits somewhat ashamed, he never wanted to be the absent father but at the moment that was all Nancy would give him.

"Okay," she nodded." I'll tell Holden to grab some clothes for you and to bring them to my place. I'll talk to the doctor and see what we can do to get you out of here, and Bill, it's going to be okay".

And for the first time in a long time, Bill believed it.

Quantico, Virginia (1 month post hospital)

Surprisingly enough, Jim was the last one in the door. The ridiculous amount of responsibility the man had apparently did not spill over in his social life. Gregg and his kids were already bowling and Wendy was smiling into her beer in their booth overlooking the lanes and trying not to show it. Bill and Holden were across from her trying and failing to hide their grins at Gregg trying to show Jim how to bowl.

Bill felt light.

He had seen Brian last night, actually seen him with his own two eyes. He took him out for ice-cream again, the kid seemed to like it. Things with Nancy are still tense, of course but getting a little better. He is still at Wendy's but he already has the living room of his place done and is looking to move on to the kitchen next.

The work is still heart-breaking, that is never going to end, but he is trying not to let the work consume him as much.

That's where these team nights were born. They were actually Holden's idea, it seems he is growing some too.

Bill's life isn't perfect. He is living is his co-workers spare bedroom and is a 'baby-sitter' of sorts for another one. His wife is gone and with her his son, but he is getting Brian help thanks to Wendy and he still gets to see him.

Bill feels good, not great, but good and for him that's enough.