It had never been Bree's intention to drive very far from home. All she wanted was to get away from her small town where everyone knew her business. She drove out to a slightly larger town nearby, and found pleasure in the simplest things. For instance, she could walk into a store without worrying about someone apologizing for her loss. Though she knew that running was not the proper way to handle her situation, she could not help herself. After all, she had nothing left to clean.

Daylight slowly faded into darkness, and Bree knew she couldn't handle a repeat of the previous night. It had been one of absolute worst experiences of her entire life, and she refused to relive it. Bree became agitated as she approached familiar territory. She began to nervously tap her steering wheel, occasionally glancing out the window- trying to find something to distract her. Nothing seemed to catch her eye except for one local site that she usually wouldn't give a second glance. "I couldn't…" she told herself, all the while turning into the parking lot…

Lynette had been searching for her friend for about two hours. She wasn't exactly frantic, but was becoming troubled as the time passed. She called Susan about 15 times, but she never had any updates on Bree. The blonde had checked everywhere she assumed her friend would be, and then some. She was beginning to convince herself that Bree didn't want to be found. Maybe she just needed some alone time, and Lynette would be intruding. As tempted as she was to turn back, she could not help but carry on. The 'what-ifs' just kept running through her mind. By 10:00 pm, Lynette began to grow very tired. Looking after four children was not the easiest of jobs, and she was not accustomed to the idea of a separate night-shift.

Bree found herself situated in a local bar. She vouched never to enter such a cruddy place. Clearly, she was "above" the people who surrounded her. The bar was not overwhelmingly crowded, due to the fact that it was a Wednesday night, but there was a decent amount of people. Bree did not plan to linger in this place for very long, she just wanted a shot or two to satisfy her craving. She refused to allow herself to get too tipsy to drive home. However, she didn't necessarily realize that a grieving widow's perception of alcohol may be a little off.

She downed her first shot. "Bleh…" she scowled, curling up her nose in disgust. She had never been a fan of straight-up alcohol. Yet, for some reason the sensation caused by the shot was too good to pass up. She felt somewhat relieved as the beverage trickled down her throat. "Bree, get out of here." she told herself. Obeying her own orders, the redhead stood up, grabbed her purse, and walked out. She reached her car and put it in gear…but she couldn't drive away. She wanted more. She hated herself for it, but she felt unsatisfied.

Bree re-entered the bar and took her same seat. She ordered a few more shots, and within minutes, a man about her age had taken the seat next to hers.

"Hey there, pretty lady." he began.

Bree did not smile, nor frown. She just stared back at this man. His eyes were blue, his skin light. He didn't look much like Rex, besides the obvious features, yet she saw his face. She looked at him deeply, and soon, she could see no one other than her husband.

"Rex?" she asked, her voice tear felt.

The man looked behind him. "Are you talking to me?"

The man's voice registered in Bree's mind. This was not her husband. She shook her head slightly, and saw the actual man sitting next to her. "I…I'm sorry. I thought you were my husband."

"Oh…" he backed off. "You're married."

Bree could only nod, for her in her mind, she was still married to Rex.

"Lucky guy…"

Bree felt tears beginning to form. She stared down at her hands until the man walked away. She would not allow herself to cry in a public place. To compensate for her pain, she continued to drink…and drink…in fact, Bree drank until her vision was blurred and nothing was as it seemed. It was at this moment that she finally felt at peace.

"Bree, Bree, Bree…" Lynette said to herself. "Why must you torture me so." she, of course was being sarcastic, but was becoming slightly irritated. In fact, she was just about ready to give up. Tom had called four or five times, and he wanted her to come home; she needed her rest. She was about to finally give in to her own needs, when something caught her eye. She was stopped at a red-light, and noticed a car which looked almost identical to Bree's in the lot of a local bar. "Nah…" Lynette told herself. Bree would never…not without a ride home at least." However, as she looked closer, she could almost make out the bumper sticker located on the bottom right of the vehicle. "My Child is an Honors Student at…" she read, her eyes widening. At this point, the light was green, and a small lineup of cars had formed behind her- all blasting their horns. Lynette, who had just snapped back into reality, rolled down her window, stuck her head out and flashed a quick finger at the aggravated drivers behind her.

Lynette walked into the local bar, commonly known as 'Smokey's Tavern'. It definitely lived up to its name, as Lynette could hardly breathe because of all the cigarette smoke. She made her way through the establishment, noticing a redhead in the corner. Her head was down, and her back turned. Lynette gently approached Bree, not wanting to startle her. As she got closer, she was shocked to see how many empty shot-glasses were in front of her. She knew that Bree would occasionally have a glass of wine, but nothing more.

"Bree…" she spoke, her voice almost inaudible. No response. "…Bree." she repeated herself, this time louder. She gently placed a hand on her friends shoulder, causing the redhead to jolt up.

"Huh- what-…" she cut herself off- immediately burying her head in her hands. It was clear she couldn't see straight.

"Do you know who I am?" Lynette asked seriously.

Bree stared back at her with glassy eyes. "Of course I do!" she smacked her hands down on the table. "You...you are…Lynnnette." she dragged out the 'N' in her friends name.

Lynette was relieved. Bree was pretty far 'out there', but at least she could still recognize faces. Lynette didn't even speak for a moment, she just looked down at her friend: an image of perfection absolutely destroyed. As heart-wrenching as the scene was, Lynette couldn't help but feel a bit of anger toward Bree. She understood that she was grieving, of course…but to leave her kids with no fair warning and go out to a bar…?
"Come on, honey. I'm going to take you home." her voice was soft, but stern.

"Home? Nuh…I don't want-"

"You know, I don't really care what you want." Lynette could not help but release a bit of her anger. She was even considering lecturing her about how long she had been out searching, but decided it wasn't the right time.

Bree just nodded her head. "Oh."

"How much did you drink?" Lynette asked.

"Three. No five. Eight?" Bree looked like a seven-year-old trying to solve her first division problem.

The blonde shook her head. "Nevermind. Come on." Lynette helped her friend reach a standing position. Bree immediately put her full weight on Lynette, as she could hardly walk on her own. Lynette wrapped her arm around Bree's waste for support. "Right foot, left foot…" she instructed as she would a toddler. "We're almost there." She could feel Bree's quickening breaths.