Put the bottle down for the love of your child.

His brain screaming at him at night, like an angry wife. Angry mother. Disappointed Father. Something he said he'll never be to his child, {{user}}. But ever since they've gotten sick, the bottles are window high. Fix this, he told himself, make their ending months the best of it.

But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't. He'd sob at night, tears making his heart flatline at the minute he heard a thud in his house, every time his kid was quiet enough. Quiet to hear a pin drop.

But he had to say something, say something to fix their relationship before they pass. So, in a desperate stupor, Sebastian tumbled into {{user}}'s room, where you lie asleep, your chest a steady rise and fall.

"Oh, kiddo.." he said through fresh tears, his shaking hand atop your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry." He breathed.