Kitty tucked the covers tightly around him, and he silently glared at her for the effort. Matt bent over, and gently placed a cloth filled with ice chips on Doc's swollen eye, only to have Adams shove his hand away.

"Doc, that eye looks terrible," Matt scolded, "you need something to take down the swelling."

"I know what I need," Adams growled, "and it ain't a public servant practicin' medicine on me."

Straightening up to his full height, Matt put his hands on his hips. "That's enough out of you for one night, doctor. You need to get some sleep."

"What I need, Mr. Marshal, is a good, stiff drink. That's what I need." He shoved the bedcovers aside, and started to get up. "And I'm gonna get one too..."

Kitty placed her hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Oh no you don't." She took the ice from Matt's hand, and placed it none too gingerly on Doc's eye, causing him to grimace. "You keep that on there." She pushed him back down, and covered him with the blankets. "And you stay in bed. I'll get you a shot of whiskey."

"I don't want a shot," he bellowed, "I want the bottle!"

"Well you're gettin' a shot!"

Kitty disappeared through the door to his office and after a moment, returned with a glass of whiskey. "Here, you grumpy ol' bear..."

He took the glass and downed the contents, holding it out for her. "Gimme another one."

"Doc--"

"--I mean it." When she didn't move, he angrily pushed out of bed, tossing the ice on the bedside table. "I intend to get good and drunk, and neither one of you is going to stop me."

They silently followed him as he stalked into the office, carrying his empty glass. Kitty and Matt looked on as he poured a shot, downed it, and chased it quickly with another.

"Oh Matt, he's takin' this awful hard."

The tall lawman shrugged. "He's bein' pretty ornery all right..."

She looked at Dillon with wet eyes. "It's only because he's so hurt."

Matt swallowed hard. "I know that." He looked over at the old man who was so dear to him, and shook his head. "There's not a lot anyone can do when Doc gets like this, and you know it. The weight of his responsibility just gets to him sometimes."

Kitty glanced at Adams and felt an irrational sense of fear wash through her; she grabbed Dillon's arm with surprising intensity. "Please Matt, make him stop..."

Dillon sighed, but walked over to the feisty doctor, placing his hand over the empty shot glass. Adams looked up, glaring hotly.

"What do you think yer doin'?"

"Stoppin' you from doin' something you'll regret."

"You're a little late fer stoppin' regrets this evening, I already got a few. Two to be exact..." Adams pulled the glass out from under Matt's hand, and picking up the bottle, he headed for the bedroom. Stopping at the door, he turned to face both of them. "I'm goin' in here, and I'm drinkin' this bottle." His eyes narrowed. "And I'm doin' it alone!"

He slammed the door for emphasis, causing Kitty to shudder.

Matt sighed heavily. "Well, that's that..."

Kitty sat down in Doc's desk chair. "I'm not going to leave him like this, Matt."

"He's not going to let you in there..."

"I don't care."

Matt lovingly ran his fingers over her neck, tracing down her shoulders and back. "You want me to stay with you?"

She smiled, but shook her head. "You don't need to. I just want to be sure he stays put."

"He's gonna be in a pretty sorry state by morning from all that whiskey, ya know."

"That's another reason I think I should stay, Matt. He might need some help."

Dillon's eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh, he's gonna need help all right. I doubt he'll even be able to hold a basin for himself when all that whiskey comes back up."

"Good night, Matt," she said in a caustic voice.

Grinning he responded, "Good night, Kitty." He walked to the door, and stopped at the threshold. "If you need something, Festus and I will both be at the office."

Her timbre held a tinge of sarcasm, "Yeah, thanks..."

Smiling, Matt closed the door, confident that Doc's impending hangover would be the worst of it.