Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.

Saturday afternoon, Tim found Billy and the kids in the television room, watching a silly 50s-era monster movie.

"C'mon Billy, let's go to the driving range."

"Nah, I'm good here," said Billy without taking his eyes off the television.

"I'll go," said TJ, jumping off the couch and showing more enthusiasm than Tim had seen from him in weeks.

"Sorry, buddy, this time it's just going to be me and your dad, okay? But when I come home, I'll take you to the park."

TJ nodded and collapsed back onto the couch, clearly displeased by the alternate offer.

"Billy, you haven't been out of the house in days. The fresh air and exercise'll be good for you," said Tim, standing in front of his brother.

Billy waved him off and leaned around to continue watching the movie. Tim rolled his eyes and turned off the TV. "I mean it, Billy, let's go."

"All right, all right. You don't have to be like that about it. Give me ten minutes."

He went out to his truck to wait for Billy, who appeared a few minutes later, carrying his golf clubs. Billy was silent and sullen on the way to the driving range, staring out the window.

When they got arrived, Tim paid for two buckets of balls and they went out to the very edge of the range. Without talking, they starting taking their shots. Tim felt a tightness in his lower back that reminded him it had been way too long since he'd played golf, or done any other real exercise, for that matter. After about twenty shots, Tim stepped away and tried to stretch his back.

"So, Billy, when you thinking on going back to work," Tim asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Billy shrugged and then hit the ball in a high arc out into the middle of the range.

"It's just, things are picking up again and I'm really struggling, doing the stuff you usually do plus fixin' cars. And you know, D'Andre is a great mechanic, but damn...he is so slow. Not having you and Al both is really hurting us."

"I gotta watch Jack and Cody. You know, Mins used to," Billy said as he hit the next ball extra hard, but at a bad angle, slicing it off into the trees.

"Yeah, well about that," Tim jammed his hand into his pocket and fished out a crinkled piece of paper. "Here's a good day care place. I called them and they want to meet with you on Monday."

Billy glanced at the paper then stuffed it in his pocket. He looked at Tim with narrowed eyes. "What the hell do you know about good day care places?"

Tim looked down, letting his hair fall across his face. "Well, I don't, exactly, but it's where Coach took Gracie before she started school."

"Mins was always saying that if you didn't get your kid on a waiting list practically when he was born, you'd never get them into a decent place. That's part of the reason she just stayed home with them. How can they suddenly take two kids?"

"Well, you know, maybe Mrs. Taylor might've had a word with them, given the circumstances and all."

Billy set up another ball and hit it angrily. "I don't need special favors from the Taylors or anybody else."

Tim stepped forward and put his hand on Billy's arm. "Yeah, Billy, kind of, you do. Look, you're a mess. Al said that you need to get back into a routine and I agree with her. You can't just spend all your time drinking beer and watching television."

"If Al thinks all these things, why doesn't she tell me herself?" He shrugged away from Tim's hand and set up another ball. Tim stepped back so he wouldn't get hit accidently.

"She said she tried but you wouldn't listen."

"I don't remember that." Billy was on fire now, hitting ball after ball without looking at his brother. Tim emptied his bucket into Billy's and stood awkwardly, passing his golf club from one hand to the other.

"Well, you have been pretty out of it. C'mon, Billy, you've got responsibilities now. I know what happened was horrible, but you can't just spend the rest of your life on the couch because of it."

"You don't know anything."

"I have a pretty good idea, believe me," Tim said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Billy didn't say anything, just kept setting up and hitting golf balls, each swing powerful and angry. Tim waited until he'd hit the last ball before he spoke again.

"Look, Billy, we're just trying to help you. And you really do need to go back to work. I'm serious about this." Tim kept his voice level and even as he looked at his brother.

Billy took a deep breath, like he was preparing to argue. Instead, he let it out slowly, and, as he did, he seemed to deflate, the fight draining out of him. "Yeah, I guess you're probably right."

"It'll be fine, Billy, go talk to the day care people on Monday and then you can start back on Tuesday. And, you know, if you're still recovering or whatever, you can just work half-days for a while."

Billy nodded slowly, like he was considering it. "I don't reckon Al would be very happy with just half days."

Tim shrugged. "She just wants to see you in some kind of routine. That's all."

"Fine," Billy sighed. "But, I gotta tell you Timmy, you doing her dirty work like this, it's a bad habit to get into."

Tim rolled his eyes. "It's not even like that, Billy. You're my brother – I've got certain responsibilities for you. So just leave my wife out of it, okay?"

There was apparently just enough steel in Tim's voice to give Billy pause. "All right, Timmy. All right. How about we stop at Smitty's on the way home?"

Tim thought about TJ, waiting to go to the park, and looked at his brother. He felt torn, but Billy was with him now and it was hard to say no to him. Tim nodded and headed back toward the truck, hoping they'd get home while it was still light enough to take TJ to the park.