Omigosh, I've been really neglectful lately. I know. But instead of trying to catch up (especially with that Peyton and Ravi stuff), I'm going to just start off with the most recent episode. There's a lot of ravioli in this one anyway. I'm starting to stray away from canon stuff, as you could probably tell. This chapter is going to have another short chapter proceeding it. Mostly because I'm not sure how to fit it into any future episode. I promise I'll make up for the lack of updates.


Chapter 7: Liv Support

It hasn't even been 24 hours since playing American Sniper went terribly wrong, and I was already drowning out my sorrows in shots of vodka. Maybe Rebecca's alcoholic brain was just what I needed. Already it had become my special form of life support. Peyton was away again, and she wouldn't be back for another two weeks. Ravi's really been the only one keeping me from killing myself. That whole Romeo and Juliet thing was cliche anyway.

Ten shots in and I was already wasted off my ass. "You're dunzo, honey. Who am I calling for you?" the bartender asked me. I rattled off Ravi's number even though my head felt like it would explode.

Not only had Blaine killed Lowell, but now Major was checking himself into a mental institution because of him. " I- I frubing wate 'im" I whined, swinging my arms around and knocking over the tower of shot glasses in front of me. My head fell to the counter with a thud.

"Alright, that's enough Liv, darling" I heard a concerned british voice from behind me. "Ravi. I wike appleses..." I said giggling as I threw my arms around his neck. "Liv, come on" he said, trying to get me to get up. My head fell to his shoulder with another thud, the second thud I'd heard within three minutes. Defeated, he finally scooped me up and carried me bridal style out to the car. I slept the whole ride home, only waking up as Ravi tried to get me out of his car when we got there. As soon as Ravi opened my door, I hopped onto his back. "Carreh meh."

So he did. He carried me up to my bedroom and put me down on the bed, him sitting beside me. I rested me head on his lap and snuggled in. He lightly ran his fingers through my hair, trying to lull me to sleep. But I was wide awake now. I sat up again and pulled him towards me, smashing our lips together. He pulled away immediately after he realized what was happening. "Liv, no. You're drunk." I whined and wrapped my arms around his neck again.

"Fuck you and your flubking sexual tension. *hic" I said, crying into his shoulder. All this pent up emotion was finally spilling out thanks to the death of my most recent boyfriend; that was what triggered it. After a moment, I felt Ravi breathe deeply. "You need sleep" he whispered to me softly and laid me back down on his lap. He began to pet me again, and I soon drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone. The only trace of him left was the aspirin and the cup of ginger peppermint tea on my bedside table. I looked at the clock. It was eleven; a full hour after I was supposed to have arrived at work.

...

Ravi didn't expect Liv to come into work that day. She was practically hammered last night; she was the sloppiest drunk he'd ever seen. But he still wasn't sure about the origins of the kiss. Was there actually romantic tension that she felt, or was all those things she said just a result of her excessive alcohol intake. She had been drinking the strongest vodka they kept. He wasn't sure yet. But he did know one thing: Liv was absolutely adorable when she's out of it like that. He couldn't bring himself to say no when she would make him carry her.

"Hey" he heard feminine voice from behind him. He turned. There she was at the top of the steps. Under the flickering fluorescent lighting he could see the glassy shimmer in her eyes. "Liv" he said.

...

I stepped down and Ravi met me with a hug. "Liv" he said slowly, still wrapped in a tight embrace. "On Lowell's body release form, I think we should write that he killed himself."

I let go of him. "I can't think about that right now" I said honestly. Ravi kept his hands on my arms. "I won't sign without your consent" he reassured me. I simply nodded in response.

I put on my lab coat and began cleaning the surgical tools. Ravi watched me with a careful eye, he didn't trust me with sharp objects the day after I'd gotten wasted. When I finished that and began wiping down the examining table, Ravi reluctantly went into his office, leaving me alone to work.

Later that day I went with Clive to go talk to Jason, the victim of a cruel prank that scarred him so much he committed acts of violence at his university and was later put into a mental institution. Or at least that's what Connie told us. According to her, his debate friends got him drunk and made him think he killed her. So not funny.

Jason was a young, scrawny guy. His orangey-red hair looked greasy and flopped to one side and he wouldn't make eye contact with either of us. He was rapidly tapping his foot, obviously very anxious. Not long into the conversation, I'd noticed the pictures on his wall of what looked like a party. When I asked about it, he told me that he used to be pretty much addicted to Max Rager. After some research on my own, I was able to find several cases linked with consummation of the beverage.

Later that week, against Clive's wishes, I marched myself over to Max Rager headquarters to talk to them myself. I had a gut feeling that this would tie things together somehow. The girl at the front desk gave me hell, but I was having none of it. Eventually I just found my way to Mr. CEO Big-Shot's office myself. He had an eerie calmness about him. He avoided questions, but cooperated. Our conversation was cut short, however, as front desk girl had called security to escort me out of the building.