Yesterday's Gone (Season 5): Episodes 25-30 by Sean Platt, David Wright

dating, how many times he’d been lost inside those blue eyes, wondering what she was thinking, and how he’d lived his life so long without her. With a profound sorrow he realized how few times their eyes had met in their last months together, hell their last two years.
    He wasn’t sure when the magic died. If it was after he lost the job or before. It just sorta happened. Now Peter realized for what felt like the first time ever she’d never look into his eyes again. Not with anything close to love.
    Now there was only fear and hate.
    They continued struggling for the gun as he found himself lost in Josie’s eyes, trying to find some shard of the love she’d once felt.
    The gun went off.
    Her eyes went from hate filled to confused. Her mind tried to make sense of the reality that she’d been shot.
    “I’m so sorry.” Peter swallowed, tears filling his eyes. 
    He wished he could take back the bullet, and wondered how in the hell it had all come to this.
    Oh God, oh God.
    Peter tried to talk to her, to let her know he was sorry, but Josie’s eyes stayed open, staring into her death.
    Hot blood seeped onto his hands, arms, and chest as whatever hope he had of anything — living with Josie, or even with Claire — drained into the void.
    It’s over.
    He got up.
    Dropped the gun.
    Looked for Claire, but didn’t see her.
    He had to find her. He couldn’t let her live like this, without a mother, and once he killed himself, without a father.
    Better to send her to heaven first.
    He wouldn’t be going with her — if there was a hell, he’d punched his ticket. But no God would send his baby to hell.
    Peter grabbed the rifle and glanced down at the open bag full of weapons. He had enough no matter what the day would bring. He would get his daughter, no matter how many people he had to kill.
    “Claire! Come here!”
    No response.
    He could hear her crying and banging on a door down the hall, around the corner.
    “Please, let me in!” she cried.
    Peter ran toward her. He had to reach her before she got away. Didn’t she realize that he was the only one who could help her?
    He turned the corner as she ducked into the room. 
    Peter fired his rifle into the slammed door, shots shattering the window and peppering the wood with holes as the bullets tore through and into the classroom.
    Kids screamed.
    He wasn’t sure if he’d hit them or if they were just unreasonably scared.
    He used his rifle’s butt to kick away jagged shards of glass still in the doorframe. 
    Reached inside and opened the door.
    Peter pulled the door open, aimed the gun at a heavyset blonde teacher standing in front of Claire.
    “Give her to me.”
    “No!” 
    He pulled the trigger, hitting her with several shots.
    She fell on top of Claire, knocking the girl down and pinning her under the corpse.
    Kids raced from the classroom.
    “Sorry, honey, but this is for the best,” Peter said as he stepped toward her.
    Claire screamed, face red, tears streaking her cheeks as she tried to shove the teacher from her body. “No, Daddyyyyy! No, please! Please, Daddyyyyy!”
    Peter hated the sound of her crying. It cut through him as if she were still an infant. A shrill pain like nothing else.
    The thought of killing his own child was sickening, but it was the right thing — to end her suffering. After this there would only be a horrible life of misery ahead. How could you come back from your father going on a killing spree and ending your mother?
    You couldn’t.
    He aimed down the rifle at her, closing his eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
    A voice came from behind them. 
    A girl’s voice: “Please, Mr. Williams, you don’t need to do this.”
    He spun around, stunned. He pulled the trigger without meaning to, but the bullets sailed straight through the girl.
    She looked down, and then up at Peter, seemingly as surprised as him.
    “Who … what are you?” he asked, backing away.
    The girl looked to be in her early teens. She had long, dark