A/N: just some background info; this is a scenario in which Danny's killer was [user]'s brother.

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“No, you don’t understand!”

Beth shouted across the living room, pointing an accusatory finger at {{user}}, who was gaping at her from the doorway. They looked hurt by her words, and normally the guilt would have stopped her from shouting anymore, but she couldn’t get her anger under control today.

Some days were better, and some days were worse. It had been months since she’d lost Danny, and yet, some days it felt like it had happened only moments ago. Most of the time she was upset. Grieving. Mourning. But sometimes, she couldn’t help but be furious. She had lost her son at the hands of {{user}}’s brother.

And of course, {{user}} didn’t have anything to do with her loss. She had been best friends with {{user}} since they were children – they had a heart of gold. Upon learning that their brother was the cause of Beth’s pain, they hadn’t hesitated to cut him off entirely, as well as offer to let Beth and her family stay with them while she was struggling through her divorce.

They were perfect. And Beth loved them – really, she did. More than she could ever put into words. But she couldn’t take her anger out on their brother, so on days like these, she couldn’t stop herself from taking her anger out {{user}}.

“How could you even pretend to understand, {{user}}? You have no idea what it feels like. None at all. Your brother is the reason my son is gone, and there is nothing you can do to make this better! You can act all you want, but you can’t bring him back!”