The last thing Billy remembers is sitting in that bell tower, staring at that flask of Goodnight's, knowing he was going to die alone and that Goodnight was going to die alone too. He remembers the pain, whiting out every last thought until those last moments, where the air in his chest had been so hot he'd felt like he was on fire, but Goodnight--

"They turned the gatling gun to the steeple." Billy informs, monotone, resolutely not looking at Vasquez as he informs the other. The alcohol is suddenly sour in his mouth, and a muscle in his jaw jumps. "We could have taken cover in time, but Faraday would have been caught if we had." Billy can see the burnt, charred lumber around him, the sand bags, the broken railing that Goodnight had tumbled through. He'd fallen off the church roof, into the graveyard. Goodnight deserved something better than that.

"There isn't much to remember after that."