[ Katrina knows, of course she knows. She knows he wanted-needed a drink, she gets it. (And of course, she knows Barry and/or Sheldon and/or Mary were supplying way more than necessary, as fast as his texting deteriorated into incoherency.) That's a problem, a long-term problem that she knows he can get under control, but it's step ten or fifty or two thousand, because the drinking's just a symptom. You don't try to fix the busted windows if the house is on fire.
He's not in any kind of place to understand what upset her about this, and she's not in any kind of place to explain. But being held tighter helps. One of her hands traces along the back of his head, soothing him as much as reassuring herself.
But every time she thinks about something happening - an accident, or his brothers showing up, or alcohol poisoning, or, or, a chill runs through her. She loves him, she just found him, he just showed up in her life, and she's not romantic enough to say the little while she had him was enough to last a lifetime. ]
Something bad could have happened. I don't want to lose you. I want you to be safe.
[ She pulls back, sniffs deep and drags her sleeve across her eyes so she can look at him and see him sharply enough without the blurred wetness of tears.
She speaks slowly, with gravity; she'll go over it again tomorrow, when he's somewhat sober - but truthfully, this is more for her than him. ]
Listen. Try very hard to listen. If something happened to you, it would hurt your real family. Me and Wallace. If we lost you, it would break our hearts. You're important, and you're loved. So you have to promise to be safe so we can have you for a really long time. Can you do that?
no subject
[ Katrina knows, of course she knows. She knows he wanted-needed a drink, she gets it. (And of course, she knows Barry and/or Sheldon and/or Mary were supplying way more than necessary, as fast as his texting deteriorated into incoherency.) That's a problem, a long-term problem that she knows he can get under control, but it's step ten or fifty or two thousand, because the drinking's just a symptom. You don't try to fix the busted windows if the house is on fire.
He's not in any kind of place to understand what upset her about this, and she's not in any kind of place to explain. But being held tighter helps. One of her hands traces along the back of his head, soothing him as much as reassuring herself.
But every time she thinks about something happening - an accident, or his brothers showing up, or alcohol poisoning, or, or, a chill runs through her. She loves him, she just found him, he just showed up in her life, and she's not romantic enough to say the little while she had him was enough to last a lifetime. ]
Something bad could have happened. I don't want to lose you. I want you to be safe.
[ She pulls back, sniffs deep and drags her sleeve across her eyes so she can look at him and see him sharply enough without the blurred wetness of tears.
She speaks slowly, with gravity; she'll go over it again tomorrow, when he's somewhat sober - but truthfully, this is more for her than him. ]
Listen. Try very hard to listen. If something happened to you, it would hurt your real family. Me and Wallace. If we lost you, it would break our hearts. You're important, and you're loved. So you have to promise to be safe so we can have you for a really long time. Can you do that?