Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

Spoilers: Season 2, episode 2

DAY 15

Sarah and Jack enter their hotel room with a few miscellaneous boxes and bags of their things. Not because they are planning to stay at that hotel long, but, as she has explained to Jack, they can't leave anything important in the car without risking someone stealing it.

Within a minute of the door closing behind them, Holder is standing on the other side of the door, knocking urgently. If they'd walked a little more slowly, he would have caught up to them in the hallway.

"Linden…" Holder is almost banging on the door. Loudly. Without a word, she puts her finger to her lips to signal Jack not to make a sound.

"Open the door, Linden. I know you're in there, I need to talk to you." Holder sounds frantic. Linden remains silent behind the door.

Linden is still angry with him for both the forged photo of Richmond on Desolation Bridge and for "liberating" Jack from the church where she had dropped him off, so she doesn't move to open the door for him. It's fair to say that she'd be perfectly happy to have nothing to do with him.

She silently directs Jack with her arm, pushing him towards the bathroom as she slips the chain lock into its slot on the inside of the door.

The banging continues. "Open the door! I know you're in there, I saw your car parked outside." More banging. "Open the door!" he yells.

Holder isn't giving up. He just keeps on banging on the door. "Open the door, Linden, I gotta talk to you. I can explain…" She steps back against the wall perpendicular to the door, her mouth set in a hard line, waiting to see what happens next. Her face reveals the conflict she feels inside, but her anger and determination win out and she stays put.

He bangs again. The banging is getting harder and harder, more insistent. Linden is not entirely sure that Holder will give up his banging before the door gives out.

"Linden, just… open this… OPEN THE DOOR, LINDEN!" Holder's yelling at the top of his lungs now. Even his head hits the door this time.

And then suddenly, finally defeated, Holder sits down on the floor facing Linden's door with his back to the wall. He stays there for a few minutes, fingering the new detective badge that Gil had recently presented to him. Linden is standing on the other side of the door, ear pressed up against it hear what he would do next. As he plays with his badge, he lets it fall from his hands and onto the floor.

He gets up slowly, leaving the badge on the floor. Linden hasn't moved, ear still pressed to the inside of the door, listening for the retreating footsteps.

Holder walks away, down the hall and out of the hotel.

Holder

Fuck. What the hell have I done? I didn't do it… but she thinks I did. She thinks I faked the picture. And of course she does, I would probably think so too if I was her. I have to get her to believe me, that it wasn't something I did… except I can't even get her to talk to me. And if Linden don't believe me, well, ain't no one else gonna believe me neither.

I still can't believe it… Gil. Gil, who I thought was supporting me… my boss, my sponsor, my friend. And all along, nope, he thought I was a low life tweaker just like everyone else – and a dirty one at that. How could I have been so stupid to believe that any of it could change?

There's no way to fix this, really… why have I bothered working so hard to get clean? It was all a joke, all for nothing. Redemption? It's bullshit. All they're gonna see is my mistakes.

Linden

Whatever it is that he wants to say, it's easier if I don't have to hear it. Easier to be here behind the closed door. As angry as I am with him, I'm angrier with myself for trusting him. Trusting people always seems to bite me in the ass. I tell myself that this person won't be the same as the last one, and the rest of them. No, this one will be different… but they never are. Eventually, everyone either leaves, screws me over or both.

I don't know why I bother. I don't need anyone anyway. I'm so much better off on my own.

…

When she was sure that Holder had gone, Linden finally let out a sigh of relief, and allowed herself to leave her post by the door. Jack, meanwhile, had come out of the bathroom and was watching her, understandably baffled - to put it mildly.

"Mom, what was that about?" he asked, his face about as confused as Linden as ever seen it.

Linden struggled to find the words to explain what just happened. She sighed heavily as she walked towards the window. "It's hard to explain, Jack," was all she could think of.

"But he really wanted to talk to you, mom. Why didn't you just talk to him?"

"I will, but I'm not ready yet." She stood by the window, looking down at the street. Looking to see if she could see Holder's car, to see it leaving.

"But why not?"

"Not that I have to explain myself to you, my darling son, but it's because Holder did something – I'm pretty sure he did it, anyway – and I'm really angry with him for it."

"So you're not talking to him because you're mad at him… mom, isn't that kinda immature? Isn't that the kinda thing kids do? Not adults?" Jack asked bluntly.

Linden sighed, not taking her eyes off of the view out the window, and not answering Jack's question.

Her first thought was Oh, you'd be surprised how childish adults can be, kid. But at the same time, she had to concede that he might have a point. Dammit, I hate when he's right, she thought with annoyance.

"So are you gonna talk to him when you're done being mad? Or what?" Jack wanted to know.

Linden sighed yet again. "I don't know, Jack. I need to think about it. It was a pretty serious thing that he did."

"But are you sure he did it, mom? Because Holder's a good guy. You know that, right? Are you sure it's something he did, and not just a coincidence?"

"I guess I need to do some detective work, don't I?" Linden conceded. Jack nodded.

"Just make sure you're not mad at him for no reason, OK mom? He's a cool guy. It'd be nice if he'd stick around."

"Yeah, OK," Linden said as she looked out the window and finally saw what she had been looking for – Holder's car, driving away from the building. She sighed to herself. Jack was like her conscious, her voice of reason. The one that she hated to listen to, though she knew she should.

But not yet.