Title: The Freshman
Author: CerealKillerZero
Rating: FRT
Genre: Angst
Spoilers: Man Hunt
Warnings: Mentions of suicide and abortion
Summary: A few reasons why Billy Cooper is more comfortable with being on the road, away from society, and tracking down the countries worst fugitives rather than with home cooked meals and evenings in the suburbs.
Author's notes/Disclaimer: Het, but with maybe a smidge of unrequited billy/don for those inclined to view it that way. Largely inspired by the song with the same title. Part of the lyrics are below. They do not belong to me.
****
The Freshman by The Verve Pipe
When I was young I knew everything
She a punk who rarely ever took advice
Now I'm guilt stricken,
Sobbing with my head on the floor
Stop a baby's breath and a shoe full of rice, no...
I can't be held responsible
She was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and
We'd never compromise
For the life of me I cannot believe
We'd ever die for these sins
We were merely freshmen
****
Leaving L.A. was harder than Billy had expected. After being away from civilization and without a partner for so long, it had gotten easier to ignore the slight ache of loneliness that had been his constant companion for more years than he would care to admit. In fact, it clung to him like a shroud and he almost hadn't noticed it until Don's easy greeting and welcoming embrace had banished it away. Now, alone in his truck once more, the ache returned, hanging heavily, suffocatingly.
Don had offered him a place to crash for the night, for the week – if he was interested in taking some time off – but Billy could tell from Don's expression that the other man knew he wouldn't accept the offer even before he asked. His follow up offer of dinner in Pasadena with his father and brother was much more genuine, but Billy passed on this as well.
"Are you sure Coop? It's just dinner. I-I've missed you, man."
The touch of disappointment in Don's expression was almost enough to change his mind, but the remembrance of Alan's cool wariness and poorly concealed disproval steeled his resolve.
It wasn't as though Billy blamed the man. In fact, he generally agreed with Alan's assessment most days. Billy was an anathema that had no business dragging Don down to his level. He could remember just as well as Alan could those last, dark days that Don had spent in fugitive recovery. Better actually, considering that Billy had been the one there and actually witnessing Don's downward spiral. Better still, considering that a large portion of the blame for that downward spiral could be laid at Billy's door.
It hadn't been on purpose. Quite the contrary, actually. Don had fascinated Billy from the first moment they had met. Don was newer to the bureau, fresh off of his first posting in Detroit under a seasoned supervisor, and transferred to fugitive recovery to get some real field work under his belt. Billy remembered thinking that underneath the confident swagger, Don seemed so young, so innocent -- too innocent in fact. His bright eyes and easy smile had no business being on the face of a gun-toting federal agent.
"Hey Rookie! Have you had enough yet? I'll get you some quarters, you can call home crying to your momma." Billy called out, voice tinged with laughter.
Don glared from his hunched position, a few yards from the body, and did his best to breathe and steady his still rolling stomach. "Fuck off, Coop. Make yourself useful and get me some gum."
Billy had thought his intention was to prove that. Show the brass that this guy -- this cocky, good-humored jock had no business being in the bureau. However, the truth was much simpler. Don's lightness, his energy, was so heartbreakingly familiar. Billy was torn between wanting to bask in it forever like a sunflower constantly shifting towards the light, and running away at top speed. Instead, he had very nearly succeeded in extinguishing that light, as he had done to another before.
****
Billy had met Annie in the fall of his freshman year at NC State. He was there on a partial scholarship and working hard for the money to make up the difference. The foster care system did little to help those in its care after their eighteenth birthday, but Billy was determined to succeed -- statistics and unfit parents be damned. He was picking up an extra shift, stocking shelves in the library, when she had quite literally run into him.
"Watch where you're going asshole!"
Billy's protests that he had in fact been standing quite still died abruptly on his lips when he caught sight of the girl. She had bright pink streaks in her hair and was wearing quite possibly the most ridiculous outfit he had ever seen. She was also flat on her ass surrounded by books that had scattered after she knocked into Billy and then fallen backwards, balance thrown by the collision and also the giant backpack that she had been shouldering. The backpack was now sporting a giant tear through the bottom seam. The girl also looked completely frazzled.
Billy never could resist a damsel in distress, so rather than venting his irritation at the name calling, he offered up his most charming smile and helped her to her feet.
"Whoa there, Darlin'. You look like you could use a hand. Let me help you with these." Billy drawled, bending down again to retrieve the books that spilled from the ruined bag. The girl looked at him with wide eyes and for a second, Billy thought she would burst into tears.
"Hey, it's alright. Some tape or glue or something and we can fix it right up. Though maybe next time, you'll leave at least half the library on the shelves and your bag won't be tempted to mutiny a second time." Billy said in a mock chiding tone. "I'm Billy by the way. Let me give you a hand here. I'll buy you a cup of coffee and maybe you can tell me about whatever put that frown on your face."
Billy wasn't sure whether the bright smile he was rewarded with was for the offer of assistance or a response to his corny joke, but whatever it was, he wanted to do it again and often. Her face lit up entirely when she smiled, crinkles forming at the edges of her eyes and suddenly, she was beautiful.
"My name's Annie. And coffee would be amazing." She said, beaming at him.
****
True to his word, Billy took Annie to a café just off campus and spent the rest of that day learning everything he could about her, from her favorite color – pink like her hair, to her least favorite professor – Dr. Allen, who was the miserable cause of her previous ill humor. Billy also learned that Annie's previous display was nothing out of the ordinary. Her mercurial shifts in mood were quite common and she could go from deadly serious to wickedly funny in an instant. She was also young, just barely seventeen and at college a year early. Billy had never met anyone quite like her before, a complex mixture of innocence and sharp edges.
After that first meeting, Billy couldn't stop thinking about her. They met several more times over the next few days and were soon completely inseparable. Billy began skipping more and more work shifts in favor of spending time with Annie in the evenings. Annie didn't work. Her parents covered her tuition and sent spending money each month, but she skipped study sessions and the occasional night class in order to be with Billy.
Annie even took Billy home for Thanksgiving nearly a month later, after learning that he had nowhere else to go. Annie's childhood home was warm and loving and completely unlike anything Billy had ever experienced before. It was a little overwhelming, so much so that the stern suspicious looks he kept receiving from Annie's father were almost welcome in their familiarity. At least one person seemed to agree with Billy's own assessment -- that he didn't belong anywhere near such a happy home. Billy felt completely out of his depth with the emotions he was feeling.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, William Cooper." Annie said breathlessly as he twirled her around in the backyard.
"Well, Anne-Marie Hastings, that works out perfectly because I know I'm in love with you." Billy replied confidently, masking the way Annie's declaration had made his stomach flip.
Billy wasn't inexperienced. He had enjoyed a steady stream of casual girlfriends in high school, eagerly dating any girl that he thought would be willing to satisfy his teenage desires. His relationship with Annie was different though. He was her first real boyfriend and for the most part he was patient with her initial hesitance to explore the physical aspects of their relationship. Eventually though, his hormones won out and he convinced Annie to sneak out of her dorm room late one night. He took her virginity in the back of his dusty used car, fumbling and awkward, but deliriously happy and in love.
However, the next morning when he went to see Annie, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot and she refused to see him. Billy was devastated. He missed all of his classes that day, unsure what to say or do in order to fix things. He eventually returned to Annie's dorm determined to reassure Annie that he could wait if she had changed her mind and wasn't ready for sex after all. However, the words died on his lips when he entered the room to find Annie's roommate gone and Annie's lips attaching firmly to his. He was startled and confused by the abrupt mood shift. He did his best attempting to be the gentleman and slow things down, but Annie was doggedly determined. Eventually Billy's rational arguments fled and hormones won out once more.
From then on, their relationship took on an almost obsessive quality. Billy lost his library job after skipping too many shifts and both he and Annie nearly missed a handful of finals before winter break, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to school schedules. In fact, Billy was slightly concerned that his scholarship would be revoked after the semester grades went out, but he was too preoccupied to care. Slightly more troubling to him was the fact that Annie's mood swings seemed to be increasing in frequency and duration.
"Go away Billy! I don't want to see you!" Annie said slamming her dorm room door.
Billy ignored the snickers of the gossiping girls staring at him from down the hall and instead pressed his head against the door, speaking quietly, "Annie, just tell me what's wrong. Darlin'…I can't help fix it if I don't know what's the matter."
"You're what's wrong! Leave me alone!" Annie's shout rang through the wooden barrier. The snickering turned to full-blown giggles. Billy glared in the girls' direction before sighing and stalking off.
The moods never lasted for more than a few days and while they always hurt Billy, he never let on to Annie just how much her fleeting rejections wounded him. When she came back around to being her sunny, smiley self, she never acknowledged her previous behavior and Billy feared that bringing it up would only trigger another bout of anger and depression.
Billy began enjoying the time the two of them shared less and less, but knew that Annie needed him and felt trapped. He just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and just after Valentine's Day, it did.
"Billy, we need to talk. I-I don't know how this happened…" Annie began and wordlessly passed him a white stick with two thin lines on the end.
"What is it?" Billy asked warily.
"I'm pregnant."
Though Billy assured Annie that he would support her, marry her, love her forever - if she would have him - she made the decision on her own to abort. Billy wasn't sure how he felt about the decision, even as he scraped through the remains of his savings account to pay for the procedure. He had never really contemplated fatherhood before. It had always seemed like such a vague and distant future concept, one that might bear consideration in ten to fifteen years, but not horribly important in the meantime. Now it seemed like he should contemplate it, but the decision was made before he really felt anything one way or another past being numbly terrified.
After the procedure, Annie was distant. She cried for days, at first clingy, but then completely withdrawn. It gave Billy a lot of time to think and really contemplate his college career thus far. He knew things between him and Annie were way too serious. Their relationship had gone too far, too fast and he needed to do something about it before he got kicked out of school all together. He gave Annie space. He begged and pleaded and got his job at the library back. He visited professors' office hours and buckled down, wanting to greatly improve upon his already spotty transcript for his second semester. He finally felt like his life was stabilizing.
So when one afternoon Annie dropped by the library, Billy was genuinely happy to see her in a way that he hadn't been in weeks. They had a late lunch and shared a milkshake for dessert, laughing and smiling the whole time - the way they did when they first met, before Annie's depression, before the pregnancy and subsequent abortion. It was like being born again. Billy knew in his heart that this girl was it for him. When his break was over, he planted a lingering kiss to her lips before heading back to the library to finish his shift. She smiled beautifully when he asked her to meet him at the bell tower later that evening. He returned to work whistling cheerfully, confident that nothing could bring down his good mood.
He arrived at the clock tower sharply at at eight with his good jeans on and a bunch of fresh flowers. At eight thirty, he began pacing restlessly. At nine, he began preparing the angry words he would say to Annie when she finally arrived. By ten thirty, he began cursing himself for being so foolish as to think that Annie's good mood would last. At midnight, he threw the bouquet of flowers in the garbage and stalked off towards his dorm room, not even bothering to swing by Annie's to see why she flaked.
He woke the next morning to pounding on his door. He opened it to find the tear-stained face of Annie's roommate.
"Billy… She's dead! I got back late last night and she was dead. I couldn't believe it. There were so many pills and I just didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry Billy!"
The rest of the day, the week, the semester was a blur. Valium. More than a handful of it. She was dead before her roommate even arrived on scene. Suicide. There was a note. I'm so sorry Billy. I love you, always it read. He didn't keep it. Annie's parents wouldn't let him. In fact, when they found her diary and learned about the abortion, Annie's depression, and her failing grades, they blamed Billy for all of it. He wasn't even allowed to attend her funeral. He would never forget Annie's father's last words to him.
"You are a plague. She was bright and talented and happy. Then she met you. And you killed her, Billy. You ruin everything you touch."
The grief counselor that the university made him see told him that Annie's father was only grieving and couldn't possibly mean what he said. Equally meaningless phrases drifted over his head, "manic depression," "no one's fault," and "previous family history," were all said repeatedly. The words just washed past Billy. None of them really linked up in his mind and connected to his Annie. All he could think about was the way her hair had smelled the last time he kissed her and he wondered how long it would be before even that memory faded into nothingness.
****
Billy only passed his freshman year due to the university policy of grade forgiveness for grieving students. The few professors that knew him, as well as his boss, treated him with kid gloves for the remainder of his time at the university. His relationship with Annie hadn't been particularly conducive to forming other friendships and the few friends he had made before meeting her were now long gone. Annie's roommate clung to him for a while after the suicide, but eventually her presence only served to depress Billy further. He took to avoiding locations where she might spot him. Soon after that, he took to avoiding other students all together, remaining on the edge of crowds and sitting in the back corner of classrooms. He watched them though, as if observing some strange different species. In a way, they were. Those happy-go-lucky kids were nothing like him. Maybe they never had been.
After all Annie was just the latest face in a lifelong string of people who came and went in Billy's life. Something must be wrong with him for everyone to keep leaving him behind. His mother was the first; dying in the hospital the same day he was born. His father left soon after in favor of the temptations of drugs, alcohol, and crime. His grandparents next, followed by a steady stream of foster parents. The revolving door of child services never quite stopped for Billy.
Yes, Annie was just the latest in a lifelong trend. And Don just happened to be next.
It didn't mean anything if Don just happened to have that same eye-crinkling smile as Annie. And when the smile slowly began to wane after long weeks of fugitive hunts, Billy could never quite decide if he was saddened or relieved by the loss. He finally had his answer when the smile eventually decided to refused to return, even after the cases were long over.
It was the beginning of the end as far as Billy could see. The clouds hanging in Don's eyes grew stormier; the bright light that had drawn Cooper in was all but faded out. A hard iciness was settling around Don's soul as though the fugitives they hunted were somehow worming their way underneath Don's skin.
"Tell us where he is!" Don shouted at the gang banger, twisting the man's wrist painfully.
"Man, I don't know anything! Lemme go!" The man cried out pathetically.
Billy was antsy. Pretty soon the cavalry for this thug would arrive leaving him and Don outmanned and outgunned. They needed to wrap this up quick. "Don. Let's go. He doesn't know anything. We'll find another way."
Don turned to Billy with a malevolent gaze. "Oh, he knows. He knows and he's going to tell me before I break him limb from limb." Don snarled the last bit directly in the thug's ear, twisting the man's arm even further. He was rewarded with a whimper.
"Fine you don't want to talk. That's alright. I'll just do what I've been itching to since I met you." With that Don let up slightly, only to free his right hand enough to grab his gun, cock it, and bear it down on the man's head. "Better make your peace with God you miserable--"
"Alright! Fuck man! Don't shoot! Warehouse district. Fifth door down from the river. Fuck! That's all I know, I swear."
Don smirked darkly, pulled back, then cold-cocked the thug with the butt of his gun. "There. Was that so hard?"
Billy was no stranger to playing things fast and loose, and early on began his campaign to egg Don into following his lead, but Don was attempting riskier and riskier stunts while on the job. Things that set Billy's teeth on edge, things that made him wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Visions of Annie cold and pale on the dorm room floor with that half empty pill bottle overlaying visions of Don and his service weapon surrounded in a red pool on the floor of one of their dingy hotel rooms.
In short, it was time for Don to leave Billy, as everyone had before. This time though, it would be on Billy's own terms. He made the call from a rest stop off a highway in Pennsylvania while Don slept unawares in the car. He dropped off Don at Quantico two days later without looking back.
"Don, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Do you know how picky they are about tactical instructors? They recognize the skills, man. This could be your shot. Fast track to one of the cushy jobs. You'll rock it."
"Fuck you, Coop. If it was such a great assignment you would have taken it."
"Don… It's time, man. You can't keep doing this forever. You're drowning."
"What about you Coop? You just going to do what we do solo?"
"I'll manage, Don. I always do."
And Billy had managed. He cycled out partners every six months or so, and when the brass couldn't find some new schmuck for him to babysit, he went solo. And if Billy's heart was just a little heavier, just a little more guarded and withdrawn as a result, then so be it.
****
It had been good to see Don though. Some of the clouds in his eyes were gone, not all, but enough. The innocence hadn't returned, but then again, it really couldn't have. At the very least, the hard edge of cynicism had yet to take its place. In short, L.A. was good for Don, in a way that being on the road with Billy never was. So Billy played the part. He joked around with Don's team, telling stories and glossing over the parts that were better left unsaid. He pretended not to notice the tension his mere presence created between Don and his father. Pretended the exchange hadn't left another father's words ringing in his ears.
"You are a plague…. You ruin everything you touch…."
It hurt. God it hurt. But Billy would be damned before he ruined anyone else.