Author's Note: Wow. The Killing has been intense the last 3 episodes. "Six Minutes" (3x10) was perhaps the darkest episode of the entire series. That last scene has stayed with me since. And I was still getting over "The Reckoning" (3x09)! I'm not sure if this piece will continue, but I suspect it might. Too much happening with this series to not write. -dkc
Needing Holder – Chapter 2
She tried. Her heart and lungs burned as she ran to him. She told him not to open that trunk. She tried. But as she knew so well, Holder would do what he wanted and he opened that trunk. She watched his heart be crushed. She watched as he clenched his jaw and put up the walls of resistance to the pain that had been handed him.
She sat with him in his apartment as they talked about the case, about Bullet, about Seward. Linden wondered if giving the court Adrian's I.D. of Mills would give them time to determine just how Seward was involved in the death of his wife, if at all. She also knew Adrian was lying. She was torn. As the looming execution of Seward weighed on her, seeing Bullet in that trunk weighed on Holder. He'd been awful to her when he saw her last. He hadn't taken her call. He felt terrible.
And then he had tried to kiss her. What in the hell was he thinking?
Holder apologized and then fell completely apart. Sobbing on his couch with her by his side. Sobbing for Bullet, sobbing for the other sixteen dead girls, sobbing for the mess that his life was, sobbing for the innocence he lost when he became an addict. Just sobbing.
Linden sat quietly with Holder, awkwardly attempting to comfort him at first and then wrapping an arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder. She reached her hands out to his clenched fists and placed her hand over them.
"Shhh…" Linden soothed.
"I didn't protect her," Holder cried.
"It wasn't your job to protect her," Linden reminded him, knowing he didn't believe that. "We can't protect them all."
"I should have answered her call. Reddick should have told me she'd called the station," Holder chocked out.
Linden lifted her head and looked at his face, the tears staining his dark expression.
"We can't control what other people do," Linden said.
Holder chuckled at this. Linden of all people saying this to him was comical to him. Linden would control everything if she could. Unfortunately, he knew too well that she couldn't control her own life, let alone anything outside that.
"Since when did you think there was something that you couldn't control?" Holder smirked at her.
Linden shrugged that noncommittal shrug that was characteristically Sarah Linden.
"What have you decided about Seward?" Holder's face was once again very serious.
"I haven't," Linden was being honest.
"Do you think he did it?" Holder looked directly at her to gauge her honesty.
"No," Linden looked away from him.
"You should go see him," Holder suggested.
Linden tucked the suggestion away for later. She was too concerned for Holder to think about Seward again while she was sitting there.
"We both headed for the loony bin after this, Lind," Holder's swagger was slowly coming back.
"Speak for yourself," Linden pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a drag off it and handed it to Holder.
"We should quit the cancer sticks," Holder said as he exhaled smoke.
"Then what would we kill time with?"
"I dunno, sleep? Food?" Holder contemplated.
"That would tip the balance of your temple," Linden smiled slightly as she gestured to his chest.
"Nah, this temple, strong and balanced," Holder smiled back at her.
"Right," Linden stood from the couch. "I should go."
Linden started walking to Holder's door, he stood and followed her.
"About earlier?" Linden had her hand on the doorknob and stopped as he said it.
"Forget about it," Linden shrugged.
"Lind…" Holder reached for her hand. "I can't."
She turned to face him and saw sadness in his eyes. She knew he'd told the assistant D.A., his girlfriend, about his illness. Once an addict, always an addict. She knew he was torn apart by Bullet's murder. And yet she couldn't walk away from him. There was a magnetism she felt with Holder that she tried to deny.
"Tell me you aren't going to start using again," what was really worrying Linden came out. "Tell me you're going to be okay."
"I ain't fragile," Holder titled his head to rest against her forehead. "But you're right, this is probably a bad idea."
"When have we ever turned away a bad idea?" Linden smiled, her lips just millimeters away from his.
"Fuck, Linden," Holder shifted his body and wrapped his long arms around her tiny frame.
"Hmm," the corner of Linden's mouth turned up, she felt her heartbeat increase as her wide pupils peered at her partner.
Holder's hands slipped behind Linden's hips, picking her up suddenly. Linden moaned as her center came in contact with Holder's waist. She wrapped her legs around his back and used his shoulders to hold herself up. His lips came crashing into hers and for the first time she allowed his tongue to explore her mouth.
"Shit," Holder moaned.
He pressed her into the wall, her back flat against it as his hands gripped her hips and thighs.
"Holder…" she moaned. "Holder," she tried again. "Holder!"
He slowly released her and let her down, keeping his body pressed against her as they both caught their breath, the wall holding them up.
"We have to stop doing this," Linden whispered.
"Whatever you say, woman," Holder drawled.
Holder placed his arm out against the wall, pushing his body away from hers. They just stood there, eyes locked, their minds running in circles. They both knew this was a terrible idea. They both knew their timing was terrible. But when was the timing ever good in either of their lives?
"I should go," Linden breathed.
"Yeah," Holder turned the doorknob with his long, outreached arm and held the door open slightly for her.
"You sure you'll be okay?" Linden looked at him with concern.
"Ain't no reason to worry about me," Holder smirked.
"Call me if you need…" Linden's voice trailed off as she maneuvered under his arm and into the doorway.
"Yup," Holder offered as he watched Linden walk away down the hallway of his apartment building.
Stephen Holder closed the door and sunk his lanky body to the floor, his back pressed to the door. He allowed himself to fall completely apart. His tears covered his shirt, his anger about Bullet on the surface. He decided in that moment that he needed one thing. Alcohol.
To be continued?
