Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
When Tim got back to the truck, Billy was sleeping , his head leaned up against the window, mouth open, lightly snoring. Tim was relieved to have a few minutes to think about things. He turned the truck around and drove up the road, but instead of taking the left for the main road , he veered onto a dirt and gravel road.
He drove slowly, trees and brush on each side making it seem like the road was closing in on them. When he got to the end of the road, just a small clearing near the lake, he stopped the car and gently shook Billy's shoulder.
"C'mon, we're here," said Tim.
Billy awoke with a start and looked around, confused and groggy. "What the hell, Tim? This where you leave me for dead?"
Tim bit back a smart remark about how Billy was capable of doing that all by himself. Al's words echoed in his head. The important thing is that he's home. "No. I got that little cabin a few minutes from here. Road ends here though, we gotta walk the rest of the way."
The cabin had been on the land when Al bought it, but it had been in disrepair, the roof barely keeping the rain out and a total wreck inside. Tim had insisted on working on most of it himself. He hired an electrician and a plumber for those parts, but the rest he did slowly, working with Al on the weekends, a few hours and little projects at a time.
Tim grabbed the thermos and bag of sandwiches, then reached behind the seat and pulled out a couple of flashlights. He handed one to Billy and then they got out of the truck and headed down a narrow, twisting path. Tim lead the way, Billy stumbling along behind him.
The cabin was in the middle of a wide, grassy clearing. It wasn't much, just one big room, really, with a small bathroom that he'd added on. Tim opened the door and stepped inside, fumbling for the light switch. The walls were only half-painted, a ladder still standing in the corner next to painting supplies, and the furniture was pushed into the middle of the room, covered with sheets.
Tim pulled off the sheets and pushed the couch and a couple of easy chairs into place. "We kinda put this all on hold when Al got pregnant. It's got plumbing and electricity. I wouldn't drink the water but there's plenty of bottled water in the pantry."
Billy stumbled over and collapsed onto the couch. Tim handed Billy the bag of sandwiches, then poured him a mug of coffee and placed it carefully on a side table. Then he poured himself a mug of coffee and settled into his favorite chair, a beat-up, blue denim armchair wide enough that he could sit comfortably with George curled up next to him.
It was chilly in the room, but not unbearable. Tim debated starting a fire but decided against it. He sipped his coffee, hands wrapped around the mug to soak up its heat. He glanced up at Billy a few times, only to catch him hurriedly looking away. Tim wasn't trying to make his brother uncomfortable, he just didn't know how to start the conversation and decided he'd let Billy do it when he was ready.
"I'm sorry," Billy finally said, looking down into his coffee like it held all the answers. "I just....I don't know what I was thinking. It was just like everything caught up with me, like an avalanche or something, and I couldn't take it anymore."
"It's been three and a half weeks, Billy, where the hell were you?"
"Eventually, I ended up in Key West. I just kept heading east and south....Dallas, Shreveport, New Orleans, Mobile, Panama City, Tampa, Miami....I felt like what's his name....David? Bruce? Dr. Banner, you know....the guy who turns into the Incredible Hulk, outcast and wandering from place to place."
"Except instead of turning into a giant green monster, you turn into a selfish asshole."
Billy cringed as Tim's words hit their mark. Tim felt bad, but it felt better to release some of the steam that was building inside him. Maybe Al was right, maybe the important thing now was that Billy was home, but Tim couldn't let go of his anger that easily.
"Sorry, Billy, that was a low blow," Tim mumbled.
Billy rubbed his face. "Nah, I deserve that. I know. That and worse."
"Jesus, Billy, why didn't you call or something? Do you know what it's been like, worrying about you all this time?"
"I don't know, Tim. I kept telling myself y'all would be better off without me. The days just start to bleed together and the more time that passed, the harder it was to explain why I was gone and the easier it got to just stay gone. Completely gone," Billy's words trailed off and he stared into the distance, lost in his own thoughts.
"So, what changed your mind, then, why did you come back?"
"Couldn't sleep one night, I was in one of those scuzzy, by-the-week motel rooms and I was watching TV. That movie with Nicholas Cage...Leaving Las Vegas came on."
Tim looked down, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.
"Are you laughing at me, Timmy? Because I can tell you right now, it's not funny," said Billy, biting off his words in annoyance.
Tim looked up at his brother and held his gaze for several seconds before speaking. "I seen it, Billy. That time I was in South Padre."
"Oh," said Billy, mollified. "Then you get it. Probably the most depressing movie ever made. But it's not all that made me come back. When I was finally able to fall asleep, I dreamed about Mindy, mostly about how much she'd kick my ass when she found out how badly I'd messed things up. And so, it took a few days but here I am."
Tim sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Billy, I get that you're hurting and everything, but do you realize what you've done?"
Billy rubbed the top of his head and fidgeted. He stared out the dark window for a few minutes, the silence stretching between them. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "You ever wonder if maybe there's this part of Dad inside you, like a time bomb or a cancer, just waiting there, and one day, it'll go off and you'll be just like him? You ever worry about that?"
Tim shrugged. "Not really."
"You know how Al's always saying that it's a woman's job to civilize her man?"
Tim grinned and nodded. Al's definition of civilization pretty much amounted to not throwing your beer caps everywhere and to always picking up your socks and underwear off the floor.
"What if Mindy was the only thing keeping me from turning into Dad? She never woulda let me get away with any of his bullshit. What if she was the only thing that kept me in line?"
"Nah, Billy, it doesn't work like that. You got a choice in the matter, you always got a choice."
"Timmy, I need my kids back."
Tim took a deep breath. Don't think, just react. Act like you know what you're doing. When Tim spoke, his voice was clear, his face serious. "It stops now, Billy. Tonight. Like Al's grandma used to say 'the cat has hit the floor'....no more free-falling.
"You'll stay here, in the cabin. You'll go back to work. We'll ease you back into being with the kids, start with dinner a few nights a week and go from there."
"I was thinking more like tomorrow morning, you give me the keys to the minivan and let me take them home."
"It don't work like that, Billy."
"Tim, this is starting to feel like kidnapping again."
Tim ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed his face, counting backwards from 20 in an attempt to cool his anger. "I mean it, Billy. I'm deadly serious. You can't just walk back in here and expect everything to be the way it was."
"Kids are resilient, they bounce back," muttered Billy.
"Yeah, they are, to a point. But they're also sensitive and they got long memories and can have fragile trust. TJ....especially TJ. Billy, you got no idea how he's been feeling. Last weekend, he asked me if you were dead. Do you know what that's like? To try to explain something you can barely even understand to a kid like that?"
Billy looked down as his face flushed red. "OK, Tim, that's fine. I get it. But why do I hafta stay out here all by myself?"
"For one thing, it could be confusing and disruptive to the kids. It's gotta wait until you're ready to be a full-time father and you've proven that you can handle the responsibility. And Billy, you gotta relearn how to take care of yourself. How to stand on your own two feet again."
Billy nodded but said nothing and refused to make eye contact. Tim waited him out, listening to the wind outside. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Billy whispered, "OK, Timmy, whatever you say. Just please, help me."
Tim stood up, feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. He went over to the closet and took out a sleeping bag, pillow and a couple of blankets, which he brought over and dropped on the couch next to his brother.
"We gotta do better by our kids, that's what you said to me once. Before this, I looked up to you, Billy. I thought you were the kind of dad I wanted to me. I know you still have that guy, somewhere inside of you. He might have gotten a little lost, but he's still there. You bring that guy back here and it's all going to be fine."
Tim turned to go, but Billy caught his wrist. "Timmy, thank you.....for everything."
"No worries," murmured Tim, giving him a small smile before he left.