A/N: So I wrote this chapter a bit more from Billy's POV, I hope you don't mind :) I wanted to give a HUGE shoutout to redhedlund - she made a fanmix for Boiler and I'm so incredibly honored, seriously. The featured song in this chapter is from her fanmix!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Sentence. Featured song: Disintegration, Jimmy Eat World

what happened to the love we both knew, we both chased

hanging on a cigarette, you need me

you burn me, you'll burn me

Billy paced around the pavement, chain-smoking two cigarettes and trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Emma was his daughter, he couldn't deny that if he wanted to - looking at her was like looking in the mirror. His gut reaction had been to reach out to her, but he was unsure of how to act around Lisa. He didn't know what she wanted from him, or what she didn't want. It wasn't like he knew either, and he thought it would be different.

While in prison, during the day, he tried to keep himself active; he enrolled in all the activities he could, and with his mind and body occupied, he didn't think about her. The nights were something else. They weren't silent, but they were heavy and restless and almost drove him insane. Not only did Billy miss all of her, but he also couldn't bring himself to stop thinking about the possibility of her finding someone else. There were endless nights, fueled with revenge, when he shook in his bed, his only solace being the thought of putting a bullet through the skull of any man who dared to approach her; in others, he drowned helplessly in thoughts of how hard it must had been for her, and if he knew how to pray, he would do it so that she found someone to help her out. As it got closer to his release, Billy grew surer of what he wanted: he wouldn't lose her again. He missed Lisa, but most of all, he missed the man that she had made out of him.

Back to Lisa's place, he felt exposed, almost naked; the years in jail had stripped him of his pride and that was as close he had ever been to being humbled. In there, looking proud was a matter of survival; out here, it didn't mean anything anymore.

The smell of homemade food guided him back to the apartment, where he found Lisa in the kitchen; there was a small playpen for Emma beside the fridge, so that she could keep an eye on her daughter while cooking. A spotless apron was hanging from her slim figure, her auburn hair pulled up from her bony face, in a tight ponytail. When Billy met Lisa, she was 27 and looked 22; now she was 31 and looking her real age. He felt guilty of that too.

Lisa took a good look at him, unrecognizable as he was. Physically, little had changed, but she saw him now as an abused circus lion. When captured, he resisted and tried, in vain, to show them why he was the king of the jungle. They had subdued him; forcefully removed his claws and fangs; tired of not being able to be who he was anymore, eventually he gave up. She could see that the beast was still there somewhere, but his will to be majestic was long gone.

"Where's James?"

"In his room," she replied without taking her eyes or her attention off the chopping board. "Playing videogame."

"Doesn't he... doesn't he help you? I mean, he used to."

"There's a lot he doesn't do anymore", she replied bluntly. There was a gaping space between them, and yet there was no room for bullshit. Their silence was interrupted by a honk, coming from one of Emma's toys. She was quiet in her playpen, but playing actively.

"How is she doing? I mean, is everything ok with her?", Billy asked, knowing that there must have been a specific term for what he wanted to say, but being unable to find it.

"She's all right. She just doesn't talk much, but... I guess that's just one more thing she got from her father."

That sentence played differently in Billy's mind. Lisa should be smiling whenever she spoke of her kids, and her face was impassive, emotionless even. He started to understand how much she resented the fact that her daughter had so much from a father who wasn't there for her. For them.

"It's been very quiet in this house", Lisa added, and he didn't know what to make of it. It did remind him of someone who used to talk more than he should, all the time.

"Have you seen Joe?"

She stopped stirring the pan for a moment, as she considered the answer.

"I, uh... I haven't seen him in a long time, sorry. Last time I visited him..."

"Last time? You mean you visited him more than once?", Billy asked, incredulous. He could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had visited him.

"Yes", she affirmed without hesitation. Even though Billy knew that Joe deserved her presence more than he did, it was a pinprick to what was left of his pride. She went on as she started placing the table.

"Last time I saw him, he was talking a lot about finding God, which is good, I guess. Next time I went there, though, he had been released and vanished. Never saw him again."

Through all those years, Billy hadn't considered not seeing his brother ever again until that moment. He had no idea what Joe was doing, where he was living, who he was living with. Had he found God? Joe? No, that wasn't likely. The Darleys weren't meant to find God; they had always been closer to the other guy.

"Have you tried looking for him at least?"

Lisa shot him a scolding look on her way out of the kitchen.

"Of course I did, for a while. I didn't really have that much free time, so eventually I dropped it. Figured if he wanted to talk to me or to you, he knew where to find both of us."

His gaze followed her as she quickly went through dinner procedures: she set Emma's chair, her tiny plastic plate and fork/spoon set and Billy couldn't take his eyes off his baby, their baby. She was as perfect as he could have hoped for: all of her toes and fingers and the way she struggled not to make a complete mess with her food. A couple of minutes later, when Lisa joined them at the table, there was food all over Emma's face, and a smile plastered on Billy's.

"She's still messy at the table", Lisa said, sitting down.

"She's smart. I guess she took that from you."

"I have to agree."

"Where's James?"

"Says he's not hungry", she replied, eyes down on her plate. Emma's noises and clanking cutlery filled the void that followed.

"Isn't he going to have dinner?"

Lisa dropped her fork and looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

"Parental advice? Seriously?"

"I just thought..."

"Well, don't."

They spent the rest of the dinner in silence; Billy wouldn't dare say anything else after her last reply. He did reach out to clean Emma's mouth twice, and Lisa didn't seem to mind.

"You should go talk to Bodie tonight."

"I will. About that job, right?", he asked, leaning on the sink next to her.

"Not only that. See, Bodie is living alone now, Alma and Mama Jo moved to Mama's sister house - her sister died last year. You could... you know."

That was it. He really didn't belong anywhere.

"I thought you wanted me to stay", he said almost in a whisper, facing her shifty eyes.

"Billy, I-" she interrupted herself and closed the tap. "I had three years to think about what I wanted, and somehow it wasn't enough. I just think you shouldn't stay here. It will be better for the kids. I don't want them to be confused."

"It's not like things went smooth between Bodie and I."

"Things didn't go smooth between us as well, Billy. And yet, here we are."

"I'll talk to him. But what if..."

"If he doesn't like the idea, I hope you like the new couch", she said, hanging the apron behind the door, getting Emma from the living room floor and vanishing into James' room.

With a sigh, Billy went down the stairs and knocked on the door. He hadn't seen Bodie since the day he went on trial; they hadn't spoken since the night when the arrest took place. When Bodie opened the door, it showed; they went a long time just acknowledging each other without saying a word.

"When did you get out?"

"Today."

"Good."

Bodie's eyes burned with disappointment and Billy's eyes weren't less unforgiving.

"Lisa said you may have a job for me."

He opened the door all the way and Billy came in. The place wasn't nearly as bad as Billy expected it to be. He never thought his friend would survive one week on his own. A lot had changed.

"They need people at the construction site. Experience is needed, but... I might be able to put you in. If you want", Bodie said, coming back from the kitchen with two beers.

"I need it", Billy said after taking one large gulp. "I can't go on depending on Lisa another day. Plus I learned a thing or two about building in jail."

"Where are you staying?"

Billy turned around and felt the beer taste becoming a bit more sour in his mouth.

"I don't know. Lisa said I shouldn't stay there, cause it's no good for the kids."

"She's right", Bodie said, making Billy look back at him. "I got a spare room. You can stay here."

Billy couldn't help but remember how Bodie refused to be part of the job that got them in jail. How mad he was at him for it. Billy had called him a traitor to his face. He was already working for the builder he was working now, and he didn't want to risk his job then; it just didn't seem fair that Billy was the only one risking something. The night they were arrested, Bodie couldn't find a lawyer they could afford. All that Billy could think of was that if he had gone with them in the first place, they wouldn't have been caught. Of course he didn't know that, but it fed his anger and that was the only feeling he nurtured for the first months after his arrest. It ate him from the inside, but it also kept him alive.

"She has been through enough", Bodie concluded after downing was was left in his bottle. Billy twisted the bottle in his hand and watched the liquid circle around.

"Do you think she... I mean, we...", he stuttered, knowing that question was too stupid to be asked. After all that time, through all the bitterness, he still didn't need to finish his sentence - his friend, his brother knew what he meant. Bodie shook his head.

"You gotta let it burn, man."

It did burn. It burned and stung and made Billy feel light in the head. How could he let it go? Forgetting Lisa was out of the question.

"After a couple of months... she was the only thing that kept me going. She and Emma are the reason why I got out", he trailed off, reminiscing the times when he considered not coming out of that hell. The dark nights when he was ready to give up, and Lisa always found her way into his mind. He either saw the gold sparkles in her eyes, or smelled a whiff of her scent. Wherever he was, she never failed to save him.

"She's suffered more than she should. She and the kids. You don't know, you have no idea just how hard it was on her. Do you remember the night you got busted?"

Billy nodded. There was nothing to do but listen.

"I brought her home. She started crying the moment she got in the car, and I think she went on for a couple of days. Alma spent hours and hours just trying to get her to eat something. She was pregnant with your child, man. Your child. And suddenly she had nothing because you got too fucking greedy."

He paused before saying the words Billy didn't want to hear.

"Lisa moved on, man. You have to try to as well."

Billy swallowed hard. There was nothing but her, nowhere to go but her arms. He couldn't move on, and he didn't want to. His guts churned as he contemplated the possibility he dreaded the most.

"Is she... is she seeing someone?"

Bodie chuckled.

"Un-fucking-believable. You just got out of jail after three years, you don't have a job or even a bed to sleep in and that's what you're worried about?"

"I'm not worried", he lied his way through.

"Right. Well, it doesn't really matter anyway. I... Give me a couple of minutes to throw something on the bed", he said, standing straight. "But I ain't got two pillows for you."

"You're forgetting where I spent the last 1,075 nights, man."

It had been a while since he said that number out loud, and it sounded just as long as it felt.

"I'll go get my cigarettes."

"Let me see if I have a spare key", Bodie said, searching his pockets. Billy was already on his way out.

"Never stopped me before."

"Maybe you need to stop doing things the way you did before, Billy."

He went up the stairs quickly and got inside, only to find all the lights out and a complete silence. He tried to move quietly not to wake anyone up, and as he searched the side table, the pack of cigarettes wasn't there. There was no way he could go back without them - things were already too damn hard to face as they were.

With careful steps he approached Lisa's bedroom - their bedroom; the door was open but the bed was empty. He moved closer and caught a glimpse of her silhouette by the window, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, smoking a cigarette. Emma was sleeping peacefully in her crib, and Lisa turned her head when she felt his presence. There was a glistening trail left by a couple of tears on her cheek.

"Sorry. These are yours," she said, giving him the packs and the lighter, and flicking the cigarette butt out the window the same way she did years ago.

"No problem. I just came back for these. I'm gonna stay with Bodie", he said, keeping his voice down to a whisper.

"That's... good."

"I'm also starting to work tomorrow."

She paused for a second and smiled.

"I would pay good money to see you working in a 9 to 5 job, taking orders from strangers."

"I can do this. For you I can. For us."

Billy took her tired face in his hands and saw another sorrowful tear flow from her eyes. At that moment he swore he wouldn't fuck it up again. He loved her too much. He needed to lose everything to find that out. She looked away and took a step back. They needed time.

"Here", she said, opening her wardrobe and pulling out a black duffle bag. "I couldn't keep everything, but I hope it's enough."

"Thanks."

She went back to the window and he understood she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

"Good night, babe."

Billy put the duffle bag on the bed and opened it up. His clothes were all neatly folded, except for one - a white V-neck t-shirt that was crumpled on top of the others. He pulled it up and stretched it out; there were some yellowish stains and gray smudges on it. The latter, he didn't recognize; as for the stains, he was pretty sure they were tears. Or maybe he just wanted them to be. Knowing that Lisa had cried for him gave him a little comfort, a little hope that there was enough feeling left for them to be together again. The t-shirt was stained and smudged; still, he slept in it.