Notes: Now this is the same timeline of Rock Bottom, starts just before the first chapter of that fic and will continue from this.
I might add a chapter before this one later, I feel like Billy murdering Maureen has been done many times and I'll not be able to do something very original, so I'll leave it to the reader imagination/headcanon.
But what I do want is to write something about Billy and Stu before that, but don't take my word for it. This is more about Billy dealing with Roman, or viceversa.
I rewatched Scream 3 yesterday and my sister interrupted me.
Billy has been a fugitive since 1996. It has been 5 years he has lived in the streets, moving from one city to another. But after that long, he returns to Woodsboro to look for his mother.
He has been starved, tired and weak for many days. He has gotten to his father's house. He rings the bell, waiting for his father to answer. He looks around to make sure there's no police nearby.
"Hi… '' says a blonde woman in her late thirties, opening the door. There's a little girl of three or four years hiding behind her legs.
Billy is surprised at this new development and quickly studies the woman and the girl behind her. He tries to hide his surprise, but he seems a bit thrown to see an unknown woman and a child at his old house. He pauses for a moment before speaking, seeming slightly out of his element. He clears his throat, trying to look at ease.
"Hi there," he says, as casually as he can manage. "Is Hank Loomis here? I was hoping to speak with him about some old business."
"Oh, Hank?" She studies his body, from head to toe, in a thoughtful way. There's a moment of realization when she makes eye contact, a bit of fear in her eyes. "I'll call him in a moment. Who's looking for him?" she asks with a nervous smile.
Billy notices her slight change in mood after recognizing him, and his eyes narrow slightly. He seems to become alert, and he's unsure of how to continue. He's never had a woman and a child in front of him like this before, and he's suddenly unsure of how to act. He clears his throat as he thinks.
"You can just tell him it's Billy," he says after a moment. "He'll know who I'm talking about." He tries to sound as casual as he can, but there's an edge to his words that's hard to hide.
She stays, frozen in place for a moment. There's a look of fear mixed with pity in her eyes. She eventually shakes her head and smiles.
"I will look for him. Please wait a moment" she says, closing the door with a trembling hand.
"He looks sick, mommy…" Billy hears the little girl say while the door is closed.
Billy's eyes narrow again as he hears the girl's words through the door. He's been looked at like that before, like a monster or a freak, and it infuriates him. His hands ball into fists, and he holds his breath as he tries to get control of himself. He forces himself to calm down and waits for it to open again. He's determined to see this through and find out where his mother is, no matter the cost.
Billy's angry that the woman has shut him out, but he's also relieved that she didn't just call the cops on the spot. He waits impatiently. The house looks the same as he remembers it, and the nostalgia is bittersweet. He takes in the familiar sights and sounds as he waits for the woman to return and bring him to his father.
A moment passes before Billy hears some discussion going on inside, though he can't discern what they are saying. He can hear the voice of his father shouting.
There's the sound of light footsteps and the door opens a little bit.
It's the little girl looking at him, not scared at all, but intrigued. She stays quiet for a moment, and then she says: "Are you hungry?" and extends a lollipop she's been eating.
Billy's eyes go wide in surprise and he takes the lollipop from her with a soft, confused smile. He looks down at her and speaks in a gentle tone.
"Why, thank you, young lady." He holds the lollipop for a moment and then takes a bite, looking at her as he does so. His expression softens. He doesn't know how to act around children, and he's clearly trying to be gentle and calm as he speaks to her.
As he's taking the sucker, he notices her eyes, and he can see the curiousness there. It's a sharp look; like someone who's trying to figure something out.
"Thank you," he says, his voice softer as he stares at her face. "That's very sweet of you."
Billy's not used to kindness like this. People have feared him and been angry at him for so many years, and to have a little girl offer him a lollipop is such a contrast to what he's used to. He likes the feeling, and it makes him wonder what she sees in him that the others didn't.
The sound of his father shouting is louder with the door a bit open. He can hear the voice of the lady arguing in a desperate tone.
The little girl looks at her side for a moment, a bit startled, and then her attention comes back to Billy.
"You look like the man in the photo dad burned." she says in a slow voice. She laughs a little when she says. "But you are dirty."
Billy raises an eyebrow, intrigued at the little girl's candor. She's brave, he'll give her that. He nods slightly, and then smiles at her again, suddenly feeling his exhaustion and the weight of all those days of being on the run and living on the streets come crashing down on him.
"I am? You think so?" He asks curiously.
He can hear the voices of his father and the woman continuing to argue, but he's focused on the little girl now. His eyes flicker to the side at the sound of yelling and then back at her, trying to see what she does in reaction to it.
The little girl just nods her head in silence. Then she puts her hand over her mouth, as if to share a secret, she doesn't want them to hear.
"My mom says I have to shower every day but I don't like it." Her voice is low, and she speaks slowly, remarking every word, looking straight in his eyes. She has a little smile. "You don't have a mom then."
Billy crouches down to her level, putting a hand on her shoulder as he looks at her with an amused expression. He laughs quietly in surprise. How astute can this little girl get? He's impressed by just how easily she cuts to the core of things.
When he thinks about his mother, or lack thereof, Billy trembles slightly. The subject is a sore one for him, and he takes a moment to choose his next words carefully before responding. He smiles gently at her, taking this moment of intimacy and honesty seriously.
"I do have a mom," he replies slowly and gently. "I just don't get to see her anymore."
"Oh…" The girl looks at him with a sad and pitiful expression, when suddenly there's a louder shout from his father inside. They heard a hit on a surface, like a door or a table, and the discussion resumed again. The girl looks to the side with a bored expression, as if it doesn't surprise her, and then she looks back at Billy. Suddenly, her eyes light up. "I can lend you my mom for a day, I guess. And then you can shower" her hands clap her idea.
Billy's eyebrows raise in surprise as he listens to her bold offer. She's a very different person from anyone else he's known, and her straightforwardness is refreshing. He smiles softly, leaning in and saying gently.
"Alright, little one," he says playfully. "I'll take you up on that. But you have to tell me your name."
"Get inside!" Hank says to the little girl with an authoritative voice, making her eyes wide and flinch, before she goes into the house running without looking at Billy again.
His father waits until she is away to talk again. He steps in the door, arms crossed and a frown.
"The hell are you doing here now?!" He asks with an edge of rage in his voice. "I don't want to see your murderer's face again." He says through gritted teeth.
Billy's heart thuds painfully as he hears the angry shout from his father, and he can feel his face getting tenser. He's not used to being told what to do, and he doesn't like it one bit. He takes a breath to calm himself slightly, and then he crosses his arms as well.
"I'm not here for you, Hank," he replies coolly, trying his best to seem calm and in control. "I'm here for my mother, remember? Do you know where she is?"
Hank seems surprised first by his answer. His eyes are wide and a sparkle of sadness seems to be there for an instant, before his frown deepens.
"Your mother is dead, Billy. How is it you don't know…?" He looks at him from head to toe more carefully before saying. "What have you been into?"
Billy blinks, feeling almost dizzy at the revelation his mother is dead. This is the first he's hearing about it,and he's taken aback at the way Hank just seems to throw it out so flippantly, as if it's nothing. He swallows hard, shaking his head slightly as he regains his composure.
"Dead?" He repeats slowly, staring back at Hank with disbelief in his eyes. "No, that's wrong. She can't be…" He trails off, looking as if he's trying to understand what his father has just told him.
Hank looks at him with a serious face, a hint of pity in his eyes. His voice is a bit less angry when he speaks.
"I thought you would have known at this point. It was great news…" he sighs and rubs his face for a moment. "Billy, the police are looking for you here. You better leave…"
Billy's not sure how to react. There are too many conflicting emotions – grief over his mother, fear of the police finding him here, and the worry over where that's going to put him – it's all too much. He takes a slow, deep breath, trying to control himself, and then his anger starts to rise again. There's not a hint of pity in his voice when he replies, but instead his words come out through bared teeth.
" Great news? She's dead, Dad," he hisses. "What is wrong with you?"
"You know what I mean. It was in every newspaper or programs..." his father sounds a bit regretful of the way he worded it. But then he is angry again. "This is all your fault, Billy. Don't come to my house to tell me how to talk about anything when you put our family name in the mood. It's your fault your mother died." He says bitterly. "Everything has been your fault. "
Billy's fists clench as he listens to his father blame him for their family's troubles. He has to stop himself from reaching out to hit Hank, but he does manage to bite his tongue. It's not worth it, he tells himself. He's not here for Hank.
"Fine," he replies coldly, and his voice shakes just enough to convey his hurt and anger. "Whatever you say. She's dead and it's all my fault. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted to hear?"
"What I wanted? Hank gives an angry laugh. "I wanted better things for you, Billy, you threw everything away." He steps back to close the door, but before he says. "You have five minutes to leave before I call the police. That's the last thing I'm doing for you." His face is cold and detached.
Billy grimaces. He looks as if he wants to say something in reply, but he holds his tongue instead. For all the anger he holds toward his father, deep down he still desperately wants his approval, and hearing his dad's disappointment in him stabs him right through the heart. He takes a step back, his face going a little pale before he replies.
"Five minutes," he says quietly, his eyes locked on his father. "Fine. Five minutes. Whatever you say, Dad. I'll be gone. I just…" he trails the sentence off, leaving the question unfinished.
"Leave, Billy. You're dead to me." Hank says without looking back. Billy manages to see the blonde woman appear behind, a startled expression on her face, before the door closes on his face. And there's silence.
Billy looks at the door as it closes with a sickening finality. His mind is racing, his eyes glazed and unfocused. His breath comes in quick, sharp breaths; his fists are clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He feels like he could explode at any second, or maybe just break down in tears, but he forces himself to stay composed.
He turns and walks off the porch, and he walks down the sidewalk for a long moment before he finally stops and puts his hands to his face to cover up and hide the tears.
The hurt is just too much to handle at the moment. His whole life, he's craved his father's approval, but never has he imagined things would go this far. He's alone, and he's at the lowest point of his life. He's a fugitive, and his own father has just kicked him out of his life. He's never felt more lost or alone, and the sudden realization of how much he's thrown away hits him like a punch to the gut.
He lets out a long breath then, and his body goes slack. He's numb. He doesn't know what to do or where to go. He's got nothing left at this point except the thought of finding his mother, whatever's left of her. At least then he'll have some kind of closure.