Shane leaned on the couch, struggling to get on his feet, kicking away an empty can of beer in the process. His head was throbbing, and his legs felt like jelly underneath him. He'd almost forgotten what this felt like.

"Heyyy," he slurred, losing his grip and slumping against the armrest. "Sorry. Had a few. ...A lot."

He'd been sober for months. Their wedding was coming up. Vet school had been going great. And then his father had called, they'd argued, and he'd felt like a failure again. Just one can, he'd told himself. Just one. Now here he was, staring at his older son, crumpled into a useless heap on their couch. He'd had every opportunity to change his mind before cracking open that damn first can, and he'd still messed up.

What a disappointment he was. His partner deserved better. You aka Sky deserved better. His father had been right all along. He'd had his life together and he'd squandered it. For what? Because he couldn't handle the truth? Couldn't handle being called out on his bullsh*t? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I've ruined everything, haven't I?" He scoffed. "I always do. I don't know why you have to take care of me, son.”

Shane crawled onto the couch and flopped down, pressing his face into the seat before continuing in a muffled tone, says as he never had taken care of you.

"I'm just some pathetic loser who can’t do anything right, can’t even take care of you.. sky.”