Lullabye
disclaimer: Spiral and the song Whiskey Lullabye are not my property. This work of fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes.

She finally drank her pain away
A little at a time
But she never could drunk enough
To get him off her mind...

It was quickly becoming an every night thing. The same bar, the same crowd, the same drinks. The same calls home, to tell them he'd be late. Because he was out drinking, of course. With his partner.

Wataya sighed, a sound drown out by the raucous crowd, and snapped his phone shut. He glanced over his shoulder before he moved, watching her at the bar. His partner. That was all she was, his partner.

She always looked sad these days, especially when she thought no one was looking. He couldn't help it as he watched her, half-drunk and half-slumped over her beer, her hair all but obscuring his view of her face, her eyes. Her eyes that brimmed with tears, unbidden and unspilled as they were. She'd never let them fall, of course, not with him around and not in this bar. He didn't know if she'd ever let them fall, or if she'd just bottle them up until she exploded.

He slumped down next to her, and Madoka started. It wasn't much of a movement, and only someone who knew her would have noticed it. Just a slight twitch, a discreet cough. She wasn't one to admit he'd surprised her, and she never had been. Especially now. Madoka sighed, and gulped down the beer in one long chug, slamming the glass back down on the bar and calling to the bartender-on-duty for another.

"Naru--"

"Just shut up, Wataya," Madoka muttered, slumping further in her seat and glaring at him from the corner of an eye. "You're worse than Ayumu sometimes, you know."

Wataya just blinked, several times, and stared at her a moment. Another beer, gulped down and the empty glass slammed to the counter. His own glass, his first and still untouched glass, rattled with the force.

"What's that mean?" he asked, head tipping to one side. Like a child, maybe, a big dumb goof of a child.

"You're going to ask me why I'm drinking," she answered back, sulkily, drumming her fingers impatiently on the bartop as the glass was refilled. "And somehow, you're going to ask me if it's because of Kiyotaka-san, and his dissaperance, and the Blade children, because my life revolves around Kiyotaka-san and the stupid Blade Children!" Her voice was louder than he was used to, and Wataya almost winced.

"I'm not--"

"Don't lie to me, goddamnit!" Madoka was almost shrieking, glaring at her partner. "Don't lie and say you weren't, because I know good and well you were!"

Wataya sighed, shook his head, and downed his half-full glass of beer. It wasn't the first time she'd yelled at him, accusing him, screaming at him. They didn't speak again until the bar was empty, until the barkeep was almost shoving them off their stools. He paid the tab quietly, and gently helped steady her as they walked back to her apartment, making sure she got in before he turned and left the building.

She was laughing about something as she wandered through, stumbling, tossing her shoes and taking off the suit jacket. She didn't notice him sitting there until she flicked on a light, dropping her purse two inches from the table she was aiming for.

"Neesan."

Madoka froze, flushed and very much resembling a deer caught in headlights. Ayumu was cold most of the time, cold and emotionless, but when she came home like that...

"You've been drinking again."

She turned slowly, blinking and attempting to look innocent.

"Aa..No I haven't!"

"Don't lie to me."

Madoka shook her head, stumbling and falling against a wall.

"I just...Wataya and I...we just..."

"And don't make excuses."

Ayumu's arms were crossed as he sat on the floor, not even bothering to look up at his sister-in-law.

"I...it was just drinks! Damnit, why do you treat me like a criminal!"

A soft noise, almost a sigh, and Ayumu stood from his place on the floor.

"Dinner is still on the table, if you can make it there."

"Ayumu..." Her voice was soft, almost pleading. She knew he hated when she drank. Kiyotaka had too, she recalled, and that was why she hadn't drank until he left and didn't look back.

Ayumu didn't answer, and he didn't even look back as he walked to his room. In the morning, she wouldn't even remember the touch of hurt in his eyes, and he'd be damned if he ever admited it.

--end;complete--