Author's note: I've been re-watching some of season 1 of Friday Night Lights and ever noticed how often Billy's there in the background, but just doesn't have any lines? Same goes for the second season.

Well I've had my go with their father, now it's time to try my hand at their mother.

I still don't own Friday Night Lights.

Kaze-Chan

Chapter 7

Billy 20, Tim 11

Part 1

Billy and Tim sat on the front steps. The summer days were winding down, the calendar a subtle reminder of the empty class rooms waiting to be filled. Billy took another sip of his beer, squinting at the sun high above.

"How long will you be gone for?" Tim finally asked, balancing his own Root Beer can between his palms.

"Just for a few weeks." Billy leaned back against the door frame. "Timmy it's your call. If you want me to stay, I'll stay." He did his best to keep his excitement to himself. The thought of leaving his brother weighed him down considerably but this was his one chance to make it out of Dillon, for bother himself and his brother.

Tim thought about it in silence. He knew how much his brother wanted to take part in this golf tournament tour. He also knew his brother was a really good golfer and this was his dream. He let his gaze wander, watching the clouds make their lazy way across the sky. "Nah Billy," he brought his knees up to his chest, making him look small than he really was. "This is your dream. I'll be fine for a few months. Go do something you want to do for once." He glanced over to find his brother looking down at him.

"Are you sure?" Tim hesitated and then nodded. "And about Mom," Billy continued.

"I know, I know. Stay out of her way." Tim recited, mimicking his brother's constant warning.

"I'm serious Tim. She's not well and we don't know what she might do." Tim rested his chin on his knees listening to his brother, his mood suddenly shifting. Their mother had always been a sore topic between the two. After Tim was born, their mother sunk into post-partum depression that went un-diagnosed. Eventually, she sought the escape of first alcohol and then drugs. It took some times for even Billy to see the effects this had on the entire family. Deep down he knew his younger brother blamed himself and felt he needed to make it up to his mother somehow. He had tried to convince his father to seek help for her, but he might as well have been trying to coax the lamp shade to become the next President.

He glanced over at his brother, the expression on his small face mirroring his own thoughts. Changing his train of thought, he sought a way to distract his younger sibling. "Thanks buddy." Billy playfully elbowed his brother. "I'll get a cell phone tomorrow so you can call me whenever. You know, in case of emergency or if you just want to talk." Tim cheered up as a thought crossed his mind.

"Anytime?" He arched an eyebrow at his older brother. Billy didn't justify that with an answer. He finished his beer, and slowly placed it down beside him. In one quick movement, he jumped to his feet, bringing Tim up with him and slung him over his shoulder. "HEY! Let me down."

Billy carried him out to the grass before setting him down. Tim tried to get around his bigger brother to jump on his back but he wasn't fast enough. Billy easily caught him and spun him around. They carried on a while longer before finding a discarded football, something not uncommon in the town of Dillon. They spent the rest of the afternoon throwing the football around, with Billy giving his brother a few pointers every so often. Even at such a young age, Tim showed promise. Billy smiled to himself. Though he had loved football, he would be the first to admit he wasn't one of the best players on the field. That's why he had chosen to pursue golf instead. But Tim had what it took and he loved the game. All that was missing was the height and the muscles, but he would grow into it soon enough.

Part 2

At first the days crawled by. Tim had never noticed before how much he depended on his older brother in his day to day life. But there was no mistaking the large gap that left empty holes in his life. He started going over to his friend Jason's house more often but even that had its toll. The Street's where the perfect picture of a family, the family Tim had always wished he had; something he never will.

The next few weeks fell into a dull routine. He saw his mother randomly and most times she would hardly acknowledge his presence. Tim would try talking to her despite Billy's warnings.

Tim sat in silence eating his supper when his mother shuffled into the living room. Irene Riggins was once an attractive woman but time and drug abuse had had its toll. She was ghostly pale and thin, her strong cheekbones causing hollows in her smooth face. Her once vibrant green eyes where long replaced by dull, purple rimmed craters.

"Hi mom," Tim watched from the kitchen table. Her gaze slowly turned towards her youngest son. "Did you um…. want something to eat?" A lump had formed in his throat. He was always nervous when his mother was around. She had never been a part of his life and the few times they happened to be in the same room, Billy made sure to keep him busy. It always felt more like it was a stranger in his house instead of his mother.

She stood expressionless and unmoving. "Who are you?" Her movements were strange as if she had no conscious control over her body. "And what are you doing in my house?" Her low, monotone voice rang through the silence. Tim froze in his seat.

"It's me, Tim." Tim's gaze searched her's, desperately trying to keep calm. He really wished Billy was here, he would know what to do.

She surveyed him for a few seconds longer before returning her attention to the living room. "My son is dead." She repeated her low voice ghosting through the house. Tim sat there, the blood in his veins suddenly freezing him in place. "MY SON IS DEAD!" Her arms flew out in agitation and Tim visibly flinched. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!"

Tim staggered back till he was leaning against the wall. He watched in shock as she drifted through the room, her hands falling on a picture of him and Billy taken two summer's ago. With her head tilted to one side, she traced the outline with her fingers, her eyes unfocused and dull. "…he's …..dead." She chocked out, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"But, I'm… I'm right here mom." He hadn't notice his voice came out in a near whisper, the colour draining from his face.

In seconds the picture frame slammed against the wall to his left. "YOU ARE NOT MY SON!" Tim visibly flinched at every word, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the wall behind him. He hadn't felt this frightened since that night with his father.

Her anger quickly dissolved as her body shivered with new shed tears. She dropped to the floor, doing nothing to support herself. Her moods shifted from one extreme to the other, leaving Tim lost for words and unable to move. Tentatively, Tim stepped closer. "Mom…" For the first time in years, her green eyes recognised her youngest.

"…Timothy…" Her pale face widened in a smile before quickly disappearing. In one quick motion, another picture frame was sent crashing into the wall next to him. "YOU BASTARD!! JUST LIKE THE REST OF 'EM!" She jumped to her feet, sending more things crashing around her, her anger resurfacing. "YOU"RE ALL THE SAME!!" She yelled throughout the house.