Later, Lee comes in through the hatch and hangs back, until his father calls him in. But are Cally and Chief okay? "They're alive. But Doc Cottle's still evaluating their condition." Lee sits and gives him the hard look; he's coming into his own. "So are you gonna tell me what's going on with you?" Bill shows his son the picture: William and Carolanne, on their wedding day. Lee blushes, having forgotten. "Probably seems foolish. Especially the way that it all ended up, but...still. It still means something to me. We've never talked about it" -- Lee chokes -- "the divorce, your mother...it was a bad time for all of us. Your mother gave you and your brother a home. Stability." And for once the stilted talking means something: he's asking to be lied to; he's lying to himself and asking for help. "Dad, I know you want to believe that, but um..." He lets it go, shaking his head, lips bitter and his eyes on the floor. "You have something to say, son, just say it." Lee draws the line between four walls and stability; between the image of Carolanne as Mother and the wife that Bill knew. The projection Bill kept in his mind, thinking she'd never show that part of herself to their sons, as though she were two different women altogether. "The mood swings? It's why you left her?" Bill pleads, in his stoic way: "We had problems, but she cared deeply for you and your brother." Lee shakes his head. "Things changed after you left. I mean, there were times when she lost control."
Carolanne speaks, talking over her son. "Don't listen to him, Bill." Lee talks about her apologies, promises to make things better. Just Like Dear Old Kara, down there with the dust on her feet, making promises. (But you know her mood swings: they're why you left her.) In the old house, Carolanne laughs and pours another drink, trying to distract Bill, but the projection is coming closer to the here and now: Lee's talking about drinking: "...And then all of her good intentions would just go out the frakkin'..." There's steel behind Bill's voice as he asks her: "Is it true?" Her face goes acidic, she becomes the other woman. "I can't believe you'd even ask me that," she hisses. "Damn it, is it true?" he shouts: he knows. He knows, he always knew, it was always happening, it's happening right now. If you're wondering how painful it is when these projections come crashing down, just ask Three. You know? Talk to Brokeback Boomer about what it's like, when you ask the question that ends the world. Ask Gina what happens when you have a second to think. Ask Starbuck, aiming right at Scar, remembering to live. Ask Lee, who dies over and over again. To projection! It's why we build bars. "And then one day, finally the apologies even stopped." Bill nods. "That's enough," he says, to somebody. To nobody in particular.