Johnny tried to go back to sleep when he got home from Joanne's, to no avail. He couldn't help going back and forth with himself over the whole thing.

Waking up early in the morning holding Joanne somehow felt like the most natural thing in the world. He had considered staying, had considered waking her up himself in a way he rarely allowed himself to do.

In the end, he had decided it was better to leave. If either of the kids woke up and found him there, well, that wasn't a conversation he was prepared to have. How the hell would he explain that? It was one thing to crash on the couch, quite another to sleep in the same bed as their mother.

The same bed their father had occupied not that long ago.

Johnny sighed heavily and threw back the covers, sliding off the bed and padding to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. That nagging guilty feeling wouldn't leave him alone, the feeling that he and Joanne had allowed things to spiral out of control, that he should have had the sense to put a stop to it.

On the other hand, who was he to tell Joanne what she should or shouldn't want? After all, he'd been the one to walk away, at least momentarily. All he would have had to do was turn that door handle and walk out the door.

What made him turn back? Johnny couldn't say for sure now.

Now he found himself wondering what came next. That is, if anything came next. He had no idea what to do from here.

Johnny sighed to himself as he poured himself a mug of coffee. It wasn't that he regretted going to bed with Joanne. The physical part of it had been something wholly unexpected and wonderful. But it had made things between them a hell of a lot more complicated.

Well, he had a couple of days until that parent meeting for football. Surely he would have things figured out a little more by then.

The phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts, though Johnny was baffled that anyone would be calling this early. "Hello?"

"Johnny, babe." Chet answered. "You about ready to go?"

"Huh?" Johnny was utterly confused. "Go where?"

There was a brief pause. "You forgot, didn't you?"

It slowly dawned on Johnny what he was forgetting. He and Chet had planned a day of fishing. Somehow it had slipped his mind. "I didn't forget. Just slipped my mind for a minute."

Chet huffed. "Sure, Johnny. I'll see you in a while."

Johnny hung up, cursing himself for forgetting while he finished off his coffee and got dressed. His fishing equipment was in the back of the Rover, so he could easily grab that when Chet came to pick him up.

Before long there was a loud banging at his door, and Johnny opened it to let Chet in. "Hey, man."

Chet responded with a slight frown. "Hey, yourself. Looking a little rough this morning. Rougher than usual, I mean."

Johnny responded with a dismissive wave. "It's nothing. Ready whenever you are."

They left the apartment, and Johnny pulled his gear from the Rover before loading it into Chet's vehicle. Soon they were on the road, with Chet talking a mile a minute about something that Johnny wasn't entirely paying attention to while the radio played in the background.

It brought to mind all those trips they had made over the years, often with Marco and Roy along. Johnny could almost hear Roy's voice now, making some crack about whatever Johnny and Chet were arguing about, Marco quietly laughing.

The emotion that sprung up at the memory caught Johnny completely by surprise, and he swallowed hard before fishing his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket, shoving them on his face.

It took him a moment to realize that Chet had suddenly stopped talking. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "What's eating at you?"

"Nothing." Johnny answered quietly.

Chet didn't respond, and it was a silent ride for a while, save for the radio playing. Finally, Chet spoke up again. "You remember how Roy would make cracks during some of these trips? You and me would be arguing about, I don't know, probably nothing important, and he'd jump in with some smartass comment of his own."

"I remember."

There was a long pause. "Christ, I miss him." Chet's voice was unexpectedly rough. "Doesn't feel right doing this without him."

Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled. "Sure as hell doesn't."

"You still see Joanne and the kids, right?" Chet asked. "How're they doing?"

"Yeah, you know, just help out where I can." Johnny answered. What was going on between he and Joanne was none of Chet's business. "Chris is playing football this fall, so I'm going to a parent meeting this week, see what I can do to help out with that."

Chet looked baffled for a moment before nodding. "Suppose it's good for them, you know, to have some kind of father figure around. Especially since you were already so close to them."

That guilty feeling pricked at Johnny again, and he shook his head. "Wouldn't say I'm any kind of father figure. But I don't mind helping out."

"I'm sure Joanne appreciates it." Chet told him.

Christ, he really had no idea. Just as well, Johnny supposed, considering he hadn't figured it all out himself.

"I mean, I guess it kinda helps me out, too." Johnny found himself saying. "Keeps my mind off things."

Chet pulled up to the fishing spot and shut off his vehicle. "You still think about it, too?"

Johnny nodded. "Sure, yeah. Still wonder what the hell I could have done differently. Still think if I'd been just a little quicker, I could have grabbed him, could have kept him from falling."

"Ah hell." Chet huffed. "You probably would have gotten dragged down with him. Might have lost both of you."

Johnny scoffed. "Think if you had told me that a couple months ago, I'd have told you I wouldn't have minded."

Chet's brows knitted in concern. "And now?"

Johnny shrugged. "Don't know. Mostly try not to think about it too much if I can help it. Seems like everyone else is getting over it, maybe I should get over it, too."

Chet blinked hard and stared through the windshield. "Don't think that for a minute."

They both sat in silence for a long moment until Johnny broke it. "I don't know if I feel like fishing today."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Chet answered quietly. "But hell, we're already here, and it's a good day for it. Do it for Roy, you know?"

"Suppose you're right." Johnny nodded. "Okay, let's go."

They climbed down and gathered their fishing equipment, setting up near the edge of the lake, and Johnny soon lost himself in the easy rhythm of pulling back, casting, reeling in. There was something oddly soothing about it, even if he wasn't catching much of anything.

Catching fish wasn't the real point of these trips, anyway. It was about the camaraderie, of getting away from the pressures of the station and just enjoying the day, whatever it might bring. And it was the same today, even though it was just him and Chet, the silences between them interspersed with some of the usual cracks that they would make at each other.

Finally, they called it a day, packing up the vehicle for the return trip. They ended up with a decent catch after all, and much of the trip back was spent talking about how to split it up.

As they got closer to home, Chet got oddly quiet, occasionally glancing over at Johnny. "Chet, if you've got something to say, say it. Stop being weird."

Chet looked thoughtful for a moment. "Have you been out to the gravesite?"

"Not since…since the burial." Johnny answered. "Why?"

"They set his grave marker." Chet replied. "It looks good. Suits him."

Something clutched at Johnny. He'd been meaning to visit the gravesite but hadn't gotten up the nerve to do so. "That's good."

"Maybe we should stop by." Chet suggested carefully.

Johnny sighed heavily. "I don't know if I'm ready to do that."

"I'll go up there with you if you want." Chet offered. "Think it might do you some good."

It was clear that Johnny wasn't going to get out of this. Might as well get it over with. "Okay."

Chet nodded somberly and drove on until they arrived at the cemetery. Everything rushed back, crystal clear, almost as if it were happening all over again. The procession to the gravesite, the two ladder trucks over the entrance to the cemetery, him handing the folded flag to Joanne, the sound of the bagpipes playing "Taps".

"Here we are." Chet's voice broke into his reverie, and they both climbed out of Chet's vehicle. The grass had grown over the site now, a headstone placed where one hadn't been before. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Johnny nodded, and the two men approached the site. There it was, a flat stone marker with Roy's name, dates of birth and death, a helmet and their station logo carved into the stone.

HUSBAND FATHER BROTHER FRIEND, read the inscription.

He kneeled down and laid a hand on the marker. Something about seeing it there in such stark relief brought all the pain back to the surface, everything he'd been so determined to keep to himself starting to come out of him.

"I'm sorry, Roy." Johnny finally spoke, his voice breaking. "I tried. I did. I hope you know that. And…I'm doing my best for Jo and the kids. I am. I'm no good at this, but I'm trying."

The words wouldn't stop coming out now, mixed in with the raw emotion that wouldn't stop pouring out of him. It wasn't just as if someone were ripping a Band-Aid off the wound. No, this was as if someone were ripping out stitches, with the wound still unhealed.

"…I don't know what to do, Roy." Johnny continued. "I don't know what you'd want me to do. I care so much for Jo and the kids. I don't wanna hurt them. I don't know if I can do this."

He was only vaguely aware that Chet was still next to him, bearing witness to his emotional breakdown. There was a hand between his shoulder blades, the same hand that had been there when he had come undone during the graveside service. If he had heard anything that Johnny said, he gave no indication.

Finally, Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled, rubbing at his eyes and nose before rising to his feet and facing Chet.

Chet studied him with a concerned expression, laying a hand on Johnny's shoulder before suddenly grabbing him in a tight hug, catching Johnny off-guard.

Johnny thought he had exhausted all his emotions. It turned out that there was still some left in reserve, something triggered by the knowledge that he wasn't alone in his grief and his hurt.

"I know, buddy." Chet told him quietly. "I know."

Eventually, that reserve was finally exhausted, and Johnny pulled away, his hand still on Chet's shoulder as they both took in the grave marker. "It does suit him." Johnny observed.

"Told you it did." Chet answered, thumping Johnny between the shoulder blades in response. "We can go when you're ready."

"Think I'm ready now."

They returned to Chet's vehicle, driving back to Johnny's in silence, save for the radio. Chet pulled into the parking lot of Johnny's apartment building and shut if off. "Kind of feel bad now, putting you through that. Maybe I shouldn't have."

Johnny shook his head. "It's okay. I think you were right. I've been meaning to go. Just couldn't bring myself to do it."

Chet nodded. "First time I went was hard. That was before they got his marker set. Next time I went, after they placed his marker, was harder. Seeing his marker there, it just made it more real, you know?"

"Yeah." Johnny huffed. "So, uh, thanks. And I'm sorry. You know, for losing it there."

"Would have been more surprised if you hadn't." Chet told him. "Seems like you've been holding on to that for a while."

"Kinda feel like I have to." Johnny answered.

Chet shook his head. "No, you don't. If you hold on to it, well, it's gotta go somewhere."

Well, it had surely gone somewhere this time. Johnny wasn't sure if he felt better for it or not.

"Well, hey, suppose we should see about splitting up our catch." Johnny told him. "Come on up and I'll bag it up."

Chet pulled the cooler from the back of his vehicle and followed Johnny up to the apartment. Once inside, Johnny found some plastic bags and started dividing up what was in the cooler.

"Your supply's getting a little low." Chet called out from the living room.

"Huh?" Johnny was baffled for a moment until he realized what Chet was talking about. "Oh, yeah. Haven't been home much, so, uh, haven't had a chance to resupply."

Chet appeared in the kitchen, shaking a baggie. "Fortunately for you, I've got you covered."

Johnny hadn't planned on smoking today, but apparently Chet had other plans. What the hell, it would probably help him wind down after everything today.

He bagged up their catch and tossed both bags in the freezer before returning to the living room, where Chet was already sorting out his stash on the tray and filling a rolling paper. He twisted the ends and handed it to Johnny. "Here, you first. You need it a hell of a lot more than I do."

Johnny plopped down on the couch next to Chet and took the joint, pulling his lighter out of his shirt pocket and lighting it up, taking a long hit before passing it back to Chet.

After a few hits, Johnny was feeling pleasantly mellow, and he sank into the couch and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" Chet's voice cut through.

Johnny's eyes popped open, and he turned his head toward Chet. "What?"

Chet blew out a plume of smoke. "What exactly are you trying to do here?"

"What do you mean?"

Chet huffed as he handed back the joint. "I don't know. Sounds kind of like you're trying to be Roy. Like, not just take his place, but like you're trying to be him."

"I'm not." Johnny replied sharply.

"Are you sure about that?" Chet regarded him skeptically.

Johnny was silent for a long moment. It was possible, he supposed, that Chet had a point, but he wasn't going to admit that.

Instead, he shook his head before taking another hit and passing it back. "Positive."

"If you say so." Chet still sounded skeptical. "You know, if you're not careful, you're going to get all tangled up with them. Before you know it, boom, you're a family man. That's not your bag."

"You don't know that." Johnny couldn't help getting defensive, even as Chet was getting a little closer to the truth than he seemed to realize. "What, you don't think I can? Is that it?"

Chet gestured expansively. "Look around you. Nothing about this says 'family man'."

He had to admit that Chet was right. Before Roy's death, he had lived his life as he always had, chasing after one girl or another, striking out more often than not.

But things had changed. And maybe he needed Joanne and the kids as much as they needed him.

He shook his head when Chet offered up the joint again, and Chet tamped it out in the ashtray before leaning back against the couch. "Listen, I'm not trying to bring you down. And hey, maybe hanging around Joanne and the kids is good for you. But that doesn't mean you have to be Roy. You're not him. Never going to be."

"I know that, trust me." Johnny answered quietly. He had long ago compared himself to Roy and found himself coming up short.

Chet let out a long sigh. "You know, you've gotta think if this is what you really want. If it was me, I don't think I would."

"Well, you're not me, either." Johnny replied sharply. "Besides, it's too soon to think about that. Way too soon."

Chet fixed him with a suspicious look. "Meaning you've thought about this."

"I—I guess." Johnny could only stutter in response.

"Or…" Realization seemed to dawn on Chet. "Shit, Johnny."

"What?!"

"Unbelievable." Chet shook his head. "That's low even for you."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Johnny couldn't help the panic that took over. "Nothing's happened."

"Listen to yourself." Chet told him. "You're already in deep. And look, that's your business. But if you're not careful, it's all going to blow up in your face."

"Yeah, I think you're the last guy I should be taking any advice from." Johnny snapped as he rose from the couch. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not right this minute." Chet responded with a note of triumph in his voice.

Johnny pulled his cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket along with his lighter and lighting up, inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke, pacing the living room.

Finally, he stopped, taking a long drag and flicking the ash off in a nearby ashtray. "Okay, fine. Maybe there's…something happening. I don't know what. Suppose it just started with us, you know, leaning on each other, just trying to get through things. And I do owe them. I was supposed to look out for Roy, make sure he made it home after every shift. I failed."

Chet looked at him as if he was crazy. For all he knew, he was crazy. "Johnny, you can't…make up for what they lost. And anyway, it wasn't your fault. You know that. What the hell are you thinking?"

"I don't know, Chet." Johnny answered, exasperated. "I don't know."

Chet was leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. "Whatever's happening right now, it isn't real. Sure, you're both hurting right now, but once you get past that, what's left? This isn't some fairy tale, Johnny. These are real people, with real lives. And they've lost someone…someone precious to them. You can't screw around with that."

Something dawned on Johnny. "We're not talking about Roy anymore, are we?"

Chet waved a hand dismissively. "You've just got to be careful with this stuff. You know you're no good at it."

"Well, maybe I can learn to be." Johnny answered, trying to affect a light tone. It wasn't as if he didn't understand what was at stake. Hell, he'd been conflicted over the situation for months now.

Chet scoffed at that. "I'd pay good money to see that."

Johnny merely shook his head at that, and the conversation turned less serious after that, both of their moods lightening somewhat.

Finally, Chet rose from the couch. "Guess I'd better head out. See you tomorrow."

"Hey, yeah." Johnny answered, moving toward the kitchen and pulling the fish from the freezer. "Don't forget your catch."

"Right." Chet nodded as he took the bag from Johnny and stuck it back in the cooler. He paused at the door. "Look, I'm not trying to discourage you or anything. Just be careful."

"Yeah, I know." Johnny told him. "I'm trying."

Chet nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know you are. Your heart's in the right place. It's the rest of you I'm not so sure about."

Johnny opened the apartment door and all but pushed Chet out. "Bye, Chester. See you at the station."

With that, Chet left, and Johnny closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a heavy sigh as he rubbed over his face. Maybe Chet was right, and he didn't have it in him to be what Joanne and the kids really needed.

And there he was, right back where he had started this morning.

Now what?