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 7-8

DAY 20

Linden and Holder are back in the car, this time on the grounds around the Wapi Eagle casino. It's Native American land, and they know that they have no real jurisdiction there. As usual, they are discussing Rosie Larsen.

"Rosie had secrets," Linden insists. "She went all over the city with that camera. Maybe she saw something, or was looking for something. Maybe out here."

"So, what, you're the Ghost Whisperer now?" asks Holder sarcastically.

Linden doesn't answer right away. "I think Rosie felt trapped. She covered her walls in butterflies. Climbed out onto her roof at night to feel free."

"Is that what got you in trouble in that Picasso case, you talking mumbo jumbo to the dead person?"

Linden glares at him, pulling the car over at the outer gate to the casino's long, wooded driveway.

"You can walk from here," she tells him, venom dripping from every word.

"Next time you talk to Rosie, why don't you ask her who killed her? Save me doing real detective work," he replies.

Holder takes off his seatbelt and gets ready to get out of the car. "You know, Jack's been telling me you haven't been sleeping. You know, he's worried about you. So don't go all looney tunes, you know? For his sake."

Linden avoids his gaze as she says, "You're right, I hear there's a 12 step program for shitty moms like me." There's ice in her voice.

"Yo, I'm just saying you might want to step back a little."

"You think because you made us some omelets, you know what's best for Jack?" Linden is irate that Holder would be so presumptuous.

"It's breakfast burritos," he corrects her.

"Go deal with your own problems. I've got mine covered." Linden needs Holder to get out of the car and out of her face. NOW.

"Yeah you do," Holder replies, sarcasm dripping from his words. He gets out of the car.

As he gets out, Linden can't help but get in one more jab. "You talk to your sponsor lately? You might wanna give him a call. Make sure you don't go off the rails again."

Holder gives what sounds like a laugh combined with a snort of disgust, and leans in through the open door. "Yeah well, at least I own my addiction."

Holder closes the door, and Linden speeds away.

Holder

Damn, that woman is hard-headed! Once she gets a thought into her head no one can tell her anything… sometimes even evidence that she's wrong has a hard time convincing her. Granted, a lot of the time she's right… but why does she have to be so goddamn frustrating about it?

OK yes, I get that she's pissed. I did not help the situation back there by bringing up the Picasso case. And yes, that remark about talking mumbo jumbo to the dead person may have been out of line… but sometimes she's just so frustrating I can't help but provoke her. Besides, it's not like I'm making this shit up - she is acting kinda insane. Sometimes I totally get what she's trying to do, but not this time. I still think she's totally crazy for thinking walking around the woods talking to ghosts is going to help her find anything useful.

I'm pretty sure that she didn't take anything that I said or didn't say in that conversation the way I meant it. I wasn't trying to be an asshole, though God knows, it must have come out that way. I was trying to tell her that she's close to going off the deep end. Partners should be able to do that for each other. Linden makes it pretty fuckin hard to look out for her… on purpose, no doubt.

Now, being stubborn and bitchy is one thing, but you just don't insult a man's cooking! And OK, the fact that she called my breakfast burritos "omelets" wasn't really the point, but damn, Linden, leave my cooking out of this. You weren't even polite enough to taste those "omelets."

Why is she so irritating?

Linden

Sometimes Holder just doesn't know when to shut up. I mean, seriously. Can there be one second where he's not a sarcastic asshole? Can't he be serious for once? I can't explain my connections to my cases, and I shouldn't have to. The important thing is solving them. If I come off as batshit crazy, what business is it of his? If we solve the case, what the hell difference does it make?

Why is he so goddamn irritating?

…

The sky is growing light with each passing second. The lawyers for the Native Americans have begun arriving on the island, and the time that Linden and the police department have to find Holder somewhere in the woods is quickly running out. They are combing the woods as fast as they can, but the area is huge. Linden is terrified that they'll run out of time.

"We've got something!" one of the unis shouts suddenly.

The sound of dogs barking rings in Linden's ears, echoing through the woods.

"Come on guys, let's go!" The K9 suddenly runs frantically, pulling hard on its leash. The officers run through the trees as fast as the terrain allows.

The call comes over the police radio. "Officer down! I repeat, officer down."

"Let me through, let me through!" yells Linden, as she pushes through the crowd.

Time freezes in that instant. Holder lays motionless against a tree, bloodied and bruised. It is impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.

Linden hears her own voice as if it's someone else, shouting from very far away… "Holder! Holder?"

…

DAY 21

It was mid-afternoon when Linden stopped by the hospital for the second time. When she had come by earlier that day, Holder's sister, Liz, had flat out told her to leave, saying that Holder needed his rest. Linden didn't disagree that he needed his rest, but Linden also needed to see him. Looking through the window from the hallway just wasn't the same.

Linden carefully scanned the hallway for Liz, who was thankfully nowhere to be seen. She approached the nurses' station with trepidation, wondering if she'd be allowed in. This situation called for all the charm she could muster. Standing in front of the desk, she smiled at the young, red-headed nurse who sat behind it. Her nametag said "Maggie."

"Can I help you with something?" Maggie asked pleasantly.

Linden gave the woman the most sincere smile she possibly could, and took a deep breath. "Hi, I'm Sarah Linden. I don't know what time visiting hours end but I was really hoping to see Stephen Holder…"

"You're with the police, aren't you?" Maggie replied. "I saw you earlier today, talking to his sister."

Linden nodded. "Yes, he's my partner. He had a bad accident, and I… I just wanted to see him for a minute." She smiled nervously, knowing that the young nurse had all the power to grant or deny her request.

Maggie smiled sympathetically. "Well, visiting hours ended a little while ago, but he doesn't have anyone in with him right now, so I think we can make an exception for you." Linden exhaled with relief.

"Thank you so much." She felt like her face was going to crack from smiling so hard at the other woman. Still, it was worth it.

"You know which room he's in, don't you?" Maggie asked. When Linden nodded her head, she waved her down the hall. "Not sure if he's awake or not, but if he is, no work talk allowed. We don't want to get him agitated."

"OK. Thanks so much," Linden said over her shoulder as she walked down the hall towards Holder's room. As she approached the door, she began to get apprehensive. Holder had looked better when she'd seen him through the window earlier that day, but she couldn't get the picture of him lying against the tree in the early morning light, bloody and unconscious, out of her head. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves.

The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open quietly. The curtains were closed, and room was dimly lit by one small lamp in the far corner of the room. The only sound was the faint beeping of a machine. Linden walked slowly and silently to Holder's bedside. As far as she could tell, he was asleep. He still looked terrible, pretty much like he'd been through exactly what he'd been through, though she reminded herself that he looked better than he had when they'd found him. Still, she hated to see him that way, his face and arms covered in bandages, bruises and scratches.

She picked up a flimsy plastic chair that sat against the wall, and brought it over beside the bed. She sat down carefully, not wanting to wake him up. She leaned forward, her elbows leaning on her knees. I did this, she thought miserably to herself. I was selfish and stupid and this is the consequence. It's my fault. She felt tears prickling her eyes, threatening to escape. She hung her head forward, resting it in the palms of her hands, taking deep breaths to try to slow her racing thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Holder." It came out as barely a whisper. She almost didn't hear it herself. She looked up at him again, trying to will the image of him in front of her, bruised but not bloodied, to replace the one from that morning in the forest. The image from the forest seemed to have seared itself into her memory.

Tears were still threatening to fall, and Linden was pretty sure that if she stayed much longer either that nice red-headed nurse would kick her out, or that Liz would return and spit fire at her for being there. She didn't want either of those things to happen, so she stood and replaced the plastic chair by the wall without a sound, then tiptoed back to the edge of his bed. She smiled at him with a mixture of guilt and relief, and without thinking about it, she reached out one hand and laid it gently on his forearm.

She looked at her hand in surprise, as if someone else had put it there, but didn't recoil as she might have if it had been anyone else. She took one more deep breath and removed her hand from her partner's arm, then turned slowly and walked to the door, leaving it ajar just as she had found it when she arrived.

She walked quickly by the nurses' station and mouthed "thank you" to Maggie, who was talking to a doctor but glanced at her as she walked by. Linden slipped out of the hospital as if she'd never been there.