[ Maybe she's giving up on him too quickly. Maybe - maybe, she thinks, he's so accustomed to half-hearted protestations to his actions, to letting people down, and does anyone ever really fight him anymore?

Other than Tricia. For his good, rather than the good of someone else? Has anyone ever offered an alternative? (And how did he interpret that pulling away earlier, that attempt at come-with-me, when subtle romantic, tender efforts haven't worked before?)

Sure, they can go to bed. Sure, she can just let it go. Or she can try one more time.

So, for a moment, she holds his gaze if he lets her. She eases close, fingertips finding and dusting the back of his neck. Nuzzles closer, her cheek to his, speaking a language she thinks he understands.

Because he doesn't need it, and, separately but just as important, she loves him. ]

I'll get you out of this if you want me to. If you want to be rescued, I'll slay all your dragons. We'll go as far away as you want and start over. You can stop drowning and start looking forward to things. It doesn't have to be just talk; we can start right now, this minute.

But you have to want it more than you want a drink.

[ A beat. ]

I'm not going anywhere. Either way, I'll love you just the same. That doesn't change.