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

Spoilers: Season 4, episodes 1 and 2

"This is Detective Holder. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

It's so rare that she gets his voicemail, she's surprised for a moment. It's the middle of the night, what do you expect? she asks herself. Some people actually sleep at night.

Still, it's strange to her to think that he's sleeping… or simply living his life. He spends so much of his life with her, being part of her life, that she forgets sometimes that he has his own. It's easy to forget, because she doesn't have much of a life besides the one with him, at work. It stings just a little, but she pushes the feeling aside quickly, like she always does.

"Hey, it's me," she tells his voicemail. She's sitting in the dark in her car, parked near the Stansbury house, talking slowly and quietly. "You can see into their house at night when the lights are on. It's a glass house. You can see everything." She pauses, almost as if she's waiting for a response. "We should talk to the neighbors in the morning. See if they know anything." Her voice sounds sleepy, but she's wide awake, staring almost unblinking into the darkness.

She can't think of anything else to tell his voicemail, so after sitting with the phone to her ear for a long pause, she closes it without another word and continues staring into the distance, mesmerized by the darkness.

When she's by herself in the dark in an isolated place like this, sometimes she wonders if she's really there at all. She supposes it's along the same lines as that age old question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make noise?" If Sarah Linden is out in the dark in the middle of the night and no one else can see or hear her, is she really there? It's such a strange feeling, one that she loves and hates simultaneously.

In the dark, of course, you can see whatever is lit up, even from very far away. And that's how she feels from her own life, from everyone she knows. Very far away. It's safe here, sitting alone at a distance from it all where she can see things, but not have to be a part of them. After all, if no one can see her, it saves her the trouble of pushing them away, or spares her the pain that inevitably comes when they leave on their own. This makes the distance between her and everyone else comforting to her. Or at least she tells herself that it's comforting. Maybe it's just that the feeling is familiar more than anything. She has spent a lot of time feeling very far away from anyone and everyone.

She sits for a long time in the dark before finally starting her car. The slightest hint of color is already beginning to appear in the sky to the east. It occurs to her that the thing about sitting in the dark, so far away from it all, is that eventually the sky will grow light again. No matter how she might not want to, eventually she has to go back to her life among other people. It's hard for her to decide whether or not she's grateful for this.

…

Linden and Holder are just pulling into the parking lot outside the station when Linden's cell phone rings. As she talks, Holder parks the car and waits to hear what it's about. When she hangs up, she tells him that Deschler, the Stansbury's neighbor, has lawyered up, and that he has time-stamped photographs for the time of the murder. This gives him an alibi. On top of that, the pictures aren't even usable as evidence, being just muzzle flashes across a long stretch of darkness that reveal nothing that can help them in their investigation.

"So the kid's still our best suspect…" Holder muses. He continues to be convinced that Kyle is guilty, though Linden isn't buying it. "He could be playing us…" Holder earns a dirty look from Linden for that remark. "I'm just saying. Convenient that he didn't tell us about his fucked-up family."

"No one talks about family secrets and you know it," she reminds him reproachfully. We both have enough skeletons in our closets that he should know that already, she thinks bitterly. She wonders if he has other secrets that he hasn't confided in her yet.

Then, maybe forgetting the power that these words would hold, he tells her matter-of-factly, "Not everyone messes up their kids. You know, it's a choice how you act."

Linden just looks at him in disbelief, feeling as thought the wind has been knocked out of her by a swift kick to stomach. She's having trouble believing that those words just came out of his mouth, and she wonders if it was a purposeful jab at her. It doesn't escape her attention that he doesn't look embarrassed or remorseful to have just said that to her, so he apparently either doesn't realize how his words have just hurt her, or he doesn't care. She can't decide which option is worse.

Either way, the certainty with which he delivered the pronouncement makes it clear that that's Holder's feeling on the subject, with no room for exceptions – not even her. So whether he meant for it to be directed at her or not, that's what he honestly believes. In other words, he thinks she chose to screw up Jack's life, that she chose to be neglectful of her son, that she could have done better as a mother but somewhere along the way made a decision not to... It's a blow she hadn't seen coming.

She swallows hard, then looks away, straight out the front windshield. She feels it again. The sensation that she's falling with nothing to grab onto and no one to catch her. She doesn't even have the energy to fight with him about what he'd just said, and whether he'd been talking about her, as she might have done a week or so ago. She doesn't even have the energy to react, and doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words had any effect on her.

If that's really what he thinks… well then, maybe she doesn't know him as well as she'd thought she had all this time. It makes her sad to think this, but really, hadn't she been expecting this all along? For his turn to come to leave her, like everyone else? Maybe their friendship had been too good to be true, after all. In any case, she's not going to bring it up. Not now, possibly not ever.

Then, somehow stopping herself before she goes into total shutdown mode, she steers the conversation back to Emmet Deschler… because when all else fails her, she has her work. "A uni said Emmett had a couple years' worth of photos. Let's go through them and see if there's anything we can pull," she suggests, already feeling comforted by the idea of work to do. Going through photos isn't the worst way to pass time, after all. Something's bound to jump out at them.

Holder looks at her as if he's not quite sure she's serious, then says, "Have to do it manana."

Of course. He wants to go home. To Caroline. To his own life… she thinks. Then she realizes why she's confused. But when did that start? she wonders. They've worked through the night countless times before, after all. She looks away, back out the front windshield, her face revealing the slightest hint of disappointment. Small though it is, he doesn't miss it.

"They'll still be dead tomorrow, Linden." He watches her stare straight ahead, not responding this time. He can see the disappointment in her face as clear as day, even though anyone else would have missed it. She really expected us to work through the night? Again?

He knows that he can't keep doing that the way they used to, burning the candle at both ends, doing whatever it is that Sarah Linden wants him to do. He's not a rookie anymore, after all. He doesn't feel like he has to prove himself like he did when he first started. Besides, with all the shit that's going on, that's been going on, he needs a break here and there. He needs to have a life outside of the job in order to keep what's left of his sanity. But how can he tell that to Linden? To her, the idea of taking a break might as well be a foreign language. The woman would work herself to death if given the chance.

She can feel him looking at her, and she hates it because she knows that he can read her. This would have been so much easier if they'd never gotten to be friends. She doesn't want his pity, his understanding. She wants… she doesn't know what she wants. Right now she wants to scream and disappear at the same time. She wants to push him away, too, like everyone else. She wants to erase everything about her from his memory so that he won't look at her like that.

Holder's stare burns into her as she tries to keep herself from crumbling. She can feel the façade weakening, though. Every day since she shot Skinner – she can't even remember how many days it has been anymore – she spends the day dreading this part, the end of the day. Not because she's in love with Holder or anything silly like that, but because it's just so much better to be with him than it is to be alone. Even when he's pissing her off, at least she's not sitting in her house by herself. That's when her demons find her most easily.

Of course, a lot of the time Holder would swear that she doesn't want him around, based on the way she acts. But even when she tells herself she wants to be alone, that he doesn't get her and never will, even when she's pushing him away herself, she still doesn't actually want him to go. Not really, deep down. What she really wants is for once, for someone in her life to ignore her when she pushes them away. To stay no matter what. But that want is buried so deep, even she can't see it. So of course, he can't see it either.

"What's the matter? You afraid to be alone or something?" he asks her. Or maybe he can see it.

It pisses her off that he says that, because he's right and she knows it. And she hates it, hates that he can see it so easily. Despite the fact that everything seems to be different between them since Skinner, he still knows her, but somehow it's not comforting that he knows her anymore. More and more, she's starting to wish that he didn't know her, because it just means that he has more power to hurt her than anyone else. More and more, the fact that Holder knows her but acts the way he has been acting towards her just makes her feel more alone.

Suddenly, Skinner's voice echoes through her head. "I have been alone for too long… and so have you." A chill runs down her spine, but she ignores it, attempting to push Skinner out of her head. No matter how true his words may have been, it doesn't change the fact that he was a psychopath, doesn't change the horrible things that he did, or the fact that she shot him. Nothing can change any of it now. No, she didn't love him. No, she didn't need him. Not ever. She doesn't need anyone.

Who the hell does Holder think he is, anyway? He doesn't know crap about me! her mind screams. She ignores the voice that contradicts her, because she doesn't want to hear what she knows is true – that he knows her pretty damn well.

All at once, it's too much. Linden doesn't say anything, just opens the door and gets out of the car, slamming it behind her. She doesn't look back, just walks away.

Holder watches her go, cursing himself silently and shaking his head. He reminds himself that he could have been more sensitive, a little nicer to her just there. He thinks about the words that came out of his mouth, and what he knows about Linden, and he feels like crap. What he just said to her, she's not going to forget that. It's going to haunt her. She only believes the bad shit about herself, pretty much nothing good. They're both just so fucking wound up these days, it's hard to remember in the moment how much his words affect her. He forgets that inside the tough outer shell, she's probably close to breaking inside… if she hasn't already.

You're supposed to be on her side, asshole, he tells himself angrily.

He wants to go after her – he almost does it. He wants to try to help her, but what would be the use? She doesn't want to be alone, but she doesn't seem to want him there, either. She just wants to work the goddamn case twenty-four fucking hours a day, with him along for the ride only as long as she feels like it. Well, he can't do that, and he won't do it. It's not healthy. He wants to catch the Stansburys' killer as much as anyone else, but not at the cost of his entire life. He never signed up for that.

Sighing, he starts the car. He's not angry with her per se, frustrated maybe, but what can he do for her? Very little, because now it seems like she's determined to push him away like she does to everyone else. And apparently, he tells himself, you're determined to be an asshole to her and make it a hell of a lot easier. Shaking his head sadly, he puts the car in drive. This whole thing is twenty-nine different kinds of fucked up. Can they ever get past it? It's something he's been wondering lately, and more and more, it seems like the answer is no.

As Linden walks toward the door of the station, she is aware of Holder's car pulling away from the curb. For just a second, she feels the void of him leaving, but again she pushes it aside, tells herself she doesn't care. He's already gone when she stops in the road, still some distance from the front door to the station, because she sees Bethany Skinner walking out with Reddick. Linden ducks into her car and leans back against the headrest, breathing erratically. When she looks again, Reddick has opened the passenger side door of his car for Bethany, which is parked nearby, and she's climbing in. Linden slumps back in the seat again, bouncing her head back against the headrest nervously, gasping for air. She doesn't know what Reddick is up to, but she has a very bad feeling about it.

…

Linden and Holder are standing in the mess hall at St. George's, where the cadets are eating dinner at long tables. Barging in on the meal in front of all of them hadn't quite been the plan, but their "friend" Margaret Raine hadn't been available, so they'd let themselves in to find Kyle. It was probably not their best idea, but neither of them were exactly well rested enough to make their best decisions. Col. Raine finds them there, and there's a less that friendly exchange between the two women. Holder backs off when Col. Raine threatens to file a formal complaint against them with the Deputy Commissioner, but Linden refuses to relent so easily.

Holder begins his retreat, saying "Alright, let's go, Linden. Come on." After meeting the colonel's icy stare for several more seconds, she reluctantly follows Holder out of the room. As soon as they're in the hall outside the mess hall, however, it's clear that Linden is pissed off at him. He's not entirely sure that he doesn't see steam coming out of her ears – that's how upset she seems to be.

For the first few seconds after they leave the mess hall, all Linden can see is red. Not Holder, not the ugly linoleum floor, not any of her surroundings. She doesn't let it deter her, however, and takes off at a furious pace anyway. She can't believe that he just gave in like that. What the hell is wrong with him, anyway? How are they supposed to conduct an investigation when Holder just gives up and walks away? The questions they have for Kyle, they're important. They need answers.

Holder had stopped outside the doorway to wait for her, and she pushes past him forcefully, not looking back. By the time he realizes that she's not slowing down, he almost has to jog to catch up to her as she barrels down the hall toward the front door.

She knows deep down that she's being unreasonable, but she doesn't care. She has always gone with her gut before, and while it doesn't always make the best decisions, her intuition when it comes to her job, at least, is usually right in the end. Something is not adding up, and she's not going to stop until she finds out what it is. If Holder's not going to help her, then he can get out of her way and shut the hell up.

He's jogging behind her, calling, "Linden! Yo, wait up!" but she ignores him. He wants to act like a goddamn brown-nosing puppy, then I'll treat him like one, she thinks to herself. She's had enough of his bullshit. Of everyone's bullshit. Why can't they all just let her do her fucking job?

They reach the front door, and Linden pushes it open, hard, breaking the silence of the day outside with a loud crashing noise. Across the driveway on the grass, a small flock of birds flies away, startled by the sudden disturbance. Holder has given up on catching up to her, and instead hangs back, deciding that it's better to let her cool off a little before trying to talk to her. He hadn't expected her to be quite this upset. After all, he's just trying to keep both of them from ending up without a job to speak of.

Outside the front door, his pace slows even more as he watches her stomp purposefully to the car. To say that Linden doesn't handle stress well would be an understatement. He lights a cigarette and walks slowly towards the car, taking his time. He wants her to have a few minutes to calm down before they're trapped in the car together for a while. Not that that will necessarily calm her down, but it's worth a shot.

When he reaches the car, Linden's sitting in the passenger seat, her phone to her ear, staring out the front window and nodding as if she's being given information. He drops his cigarette butt and steps on it, the climbs into the driver's seat, glancing at her as he puts on his seatbelt. Linden doesn't say much into the phone, but he has a feeling that she's just finished tearing into whoever it is she's talking to. He starts the engine as she ends the call without saying goodbye, snapping the phone closed harder than is necessary and almost throwing it into the center console.

"So, we goin' back to the station or what?" he asks, wondering if she's going to bite his head off. The only response he gets is a single nod, though she doesn't look in his direction. The look on her face is murderous, but luckily it's directed through the windshield and not at him directly.

They ride in silence for a while, until finally Holder can't help but think, alright, enough with this bullshit. "Kid's lying," Holder tells her. "He knows something. He probably knows Kat. They could've done it together."

Linden is still so angry, she's almost shaking. "Don't ever do that again," she replies. Her tone is icy.

He can see that she did not take his help in the spirit in which it had been intended. Nothing new there, he thinks, preparing himself to talk her down again. It seems like it's all he does anymore. But he's just about as stubborn as she is, so he's game. He's not giving up on her, no matter what she seems to think.