Fragile
By Liten
Summary: one day at a time
Disclaimer: Without a Trace and its characters don't belong to me
Feedback: always welcome
He was sitting at the bar a few stools down from where one of the last customers had just left. There was a drink in front of him, a scotch maybe…most definitely alcoholic.
Untouched.
He was staring into it, as if the answers he sought could be found at the bottom of that glass, as if those answers existed at all.
He wasn't sure how he had ended up there once again after so much time. He had been wandering around the empty streets for what felt like ages when he had felt the first raindrops on his face. He knew he should not go inside, it was a bad idea. But he was tired and chilled to the bones.
He could have gone back to his apartment right away. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to do so. Sometimes he wished he had someone to go home to, someone to listen to him. He wouldn't be alone in his empty house with all of his personal demons. Everything he saw when they were looking for someone, the pain, the evil, the indifference of the people around the missing ones…he tried not to let it get to him but at times he just couldn't help it.
It was at times like those, when he felt his strength failing him, that he'd find himself in a bar, with a glass in front of him. He might sit there all night and not touch it. He'd pay and leave just as unnoticed as he had come in.
He knew how easily he could get caught in that downward spiral: one drink, then another and another…until the memories of the day had faded into nothing and he could get some rest, numbing both his body and his mind so he wouldn't have to feel the pain, the frustration,… It scared him to think that each time he stepped a little closer to a pit that could ruin everything he had. Ironically, it was that same awareness that kept him from crossing that thin line…though not enough to prevent him from walking on it.
"I'm sorry man but I'm closing up," said the bar tender startling him. He stood up, left a bill on the counter and grabbed his coat. "Hey," called the other man. "You're not drinking that?"
He looked at him and then at the glass he was pointing to. "No, thanks," he replied simply.
Not tonight.
