Dated January 24, 2011:
"You're hoverin'. 's freakin' me out," I mutter, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. This is definitely not the warm, careless stage of drunk I was going for. This is definitely the sob like an asshole and pass out before you puke stage of drunk.
"Lay the fuck down or go someplace else," I tell him, without thinking. Like it's not his fuckin' bed, in his fucking hut, and I've got every right to tell him what to do. I'd like to say things'd be different, if I were sober... But that'd probably be a lie.
Neil gets drunk and passes out in Sam Winchester's bed. Being there is not nearly as much fun as he'd always fantasized it would be.
[
HERE | Ongoing | PG]
Dated January 24, 2011:
"Because our daughters are in the bedroom sleeping and I didn't want to wake them up since I sure as hell couldn't sleep," he hissed. "Do you know how hard it is explaining to them the difference between dead and out screwing around is? Would you like to try it sometime?"
He's late getting home, again, but what starts as a fight quickly winds down into a much quieter, more honest discussion.
[
HERE | Ongoing | PG]