Bill hadn't really been there until he was there. His body had been moving, carrying him towards the destination even if his mind was unaware or the change of plans. As soon as he had parted with Joel and the brat, he had planned on returning to the closest safehouse and tending to his wounds. Some fresh cuts and scrapes, bumps and bruises dotted his arms and back. It would be hard as hell to get to them alone. It was probably that thought there that set it up.

Set him up.

Next thing he knew, he was ducking into Frank's garage and slamming the heavy door behind him. A small pack of Runners and Clickers had followed after him and were banging on the door but they sounded far away. Like the tapping of flies against a window on the other side of a large house compared to the thunderous pounding of his heart in his ears.

He didn't want to do this, but he needed to. His home was empty, no one left around to tend to but the body of his former lover. Bill rounded the corner and saw the crumpled body still in a heap on the floor.

Goddamn idiot. Fuckin' thief. Hollow thoughts in an empty mind. The rope was twisted, winding in and out of decayed limbs. The obnoxious orange of the Hawaiian shirt almost hurt to look at in the dull darkness of the evening light. Frank was the only idiot in the world that would wear something that hideous. The bright colors always attracted infected.

"It ain't the colors, I'm just naturally attractive." Frank used to joke whenever Bill would point that little fact out. "Like bees to honey."

"More like flies to horse shit, you idiot." Bill would quip.

And thus another fight would start, Bill would point out all of Frank's flaws then Frank would do the same to him. They'd scream and holler at each other for a few hours then Frank would storm out, ending the argument by calling Bill a "Pig-headed conspiracy theorist". They'd go to different safehouses for a week or so then slowly drift back together. It was just how it went.

"You always apologized first." Bill said to the corpse on the ground. "And you ought to, cause you were always wrong." He moved through the house, finding a set of sheets on the bed upstairs. He laid them out on the floor beside the remains and slowly began to move over Frank onto the sheet. Going slowly so as not to destroy the body any more than it already was. The bits marks on the arms stood out. Three on the forearm and another on the shoulder.

"You fuckin' idiot. You went into the school all on your fuckin' own and this is what happened. Well I hope it was goddamn worth it Frank. You paid your life for the battery and look where it got you—got either one of us!" He wrapped the lower corners of the blanket around Frank's feet, tying the ends together in a double knot, then following the folds up to his head and repeating the process. He didn't bother to remove the noose from Frank's neck, just tucked the rope into the blanket as well.

"Your death didn't get you anywhere, so fuck you Frank. You got my fuckin' battery and I gave it away to Joel and that kid. They are gonna take off who fuckin' knows where. How about that?" He lifted the remains, the sagged in his grip. Groaning quietly he set it Frank on the couch then looked in the garage for a wheel barrel to carry the remains into the backyard.

He found a child's toy wagon. It worked for what he needed even if it looked a bit ridiculous.

"A fittin' funeral procession for ya, Frank." He let out a scoff as he opened the back door and looked around. The infected had wondered off, the yard seemed clear. Bill pulled the wagon out setting it aside and looking for a shovel.

It took a bit of a trek to find out at a neighboring house, but he returned and began digging. The sunset quicker than he had wanted, he continued to dig in the darkness, pausing occasionally to look around, shining his flahslight around the yard to assure that he wasn't going to get attacked while digging a hole in the ground.

"You know, Frank. I don't know what the fuck your problem was." Bill stated through panting breaths. "Didn't I give you everything ya fuckin' asked for? Gave you food, shelter, even helped you out when you broke your fuckin' arm couple years back. I know I ain't the most agreeable man in the world but I always at least tried with you…" He stopped for a moment, leaning on the shovel and panting quietly. "I damn near loved you, you ungrateful sonuvabitch."

He cleared his throat loudly, wiping away at tears before they could form. He tossed the shovel aside. The hole was about 6 feet long, 3 feet wide and around 3 feet deep.

"Ya ain't worth 6 feet down, Frank. I gotta get some fuckin' sleep." He stepped up and out of the hole, walking over to the body in the toy wagon, pulling it along to the edge of the grave and tilting it, tipping the load over the edge.

Frank's body dropped down into the blacker darkness of the grave. Bill moved around and sat down on the edge of the grave. He leaned over, laying down for a few moments while he waited for his breathing to return to normal. Hideous, floral sheets looked up at him as soon as he switched his light on.

"Looks good on ya, Frank." Bill forced a smile, ignoring a few hot tears that sprung from the corner of his eyes. Frank's face was already fading in his mind. He had to really concentrate to pull it up.

"Remember that time you got mad at me for not sayin' thank you? After the Birthday blow job you gave me? You got madder than a wet hornet. Started cussing at me with bunk still on your lips. I don't think I've ever laughed that hard." He let out a laugh, rolling over on to his back and looking at the few stars that managed to blink into existence. "You took off, cursin' at me then your an face first into one of my traps. You never did tell me how long you were stuck up there until that Clicker came after you."

Silence hung heavy on the air for several minutes as Bill watched a few wishing stars streak across the sky, this way and that. He cleared his throat, sniffled a little then got up off the ground. He didn't bother to dust himself off, just started shoveling dirt into the grave on of Frank.

"You were an idiot Frank but I'll fuckin' miss you." Bill muttered once the dirt was level again. He left the toy wagon next to the grave, as good as any other headstone in this world. He slammed the shovel into the ground beside the wagon and went back into the house to catch a few hours sleep on the couch before he had to get all the traps back up that Joel and the kid had set off.

Just another night followed by another day.