AN: So, what's the aftermath of our last chapter? We shall see! Thank you all so much as usual. I just wanted to quickly add that from the beginning I've known how I wanted to end this but I didn't know exactly how I wanted to get there. I got a chance to make a battle plan and as of now I have 50 chapters planned (I know, a lot!) but hopefully I won't loose your interest and you'll stick with it till the end :)

James woke up with a start to the sound of running feet and a slamming door. The sound hadn't moved passed him so Alastair hadn't left. He was probably in the bathroom if anything.

It took only a few moments to figure out which door that was. He heard retching on the other side which had James wincing slightly (how much had he drank?) and when it paused, James softly knocked on the door. "Hey, did you need me to grab anything? Glass of water? New shirt?"

Silence met his questions which was somewhat worry some but at least Alastair was no longer puking. Then, water was suddenly heard but not like it came from a faucet. It was to loud and widespread so more likely a shower.

James knocked again and asked louder, "Hey! Alastair at least curse at me if nothing else. I just need to know that you're okay."

Still nothing so James finally tried the door handle, deciding that if Alastair really wanted to be alone he would've made it known. Pushing in, he was rather shocked by what he saw and honestly didn't know how to react. He'd expected Alastair to respond poorly to last night's ordeal but not quite like this.

He still wore his cloths from before though they were now crumpled up and wet along with being stained. Curled up in a fetal position, he sat underneath the shower, his head buried in between his legs. As he slowly rocked back and forth, James carefully approached and nudged the shower door open just a bit more.

When Alastair didn't seem to notice, or really even care, James got down on his knees and scooted over, ignoring the water that was quickly absorbed through his cloths and made contact with his skin. Now that he was next to him, he could hear that Alastair was mumbling something that sounded like numbers.

"Whatcha reciting?" asked James softly, not wanting to hurt Alastair's head which was most certainly pounding.

Keeping his head down, Alastair said in a slightly louder voice, "The prime numbers. They usually calm me."

"Is it working now?"

"Not really."

Alastair continued on where he'd left off and James moved slightly closer in response. Carefully he did what had become so normal and familiar, slowly running his fingers through Alastair's hair. James heard Alastair's breathing hitch but as he didn't say anything and quickly went on with the prime numbers, James kept doing it.

A million questions circled through James' thoughts but he kept quiet, waiting for Alastair to make the first move.

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not," James said earnestly, confused by the question. "Why would you ask that?"

"I'm—" Alastair stopped, rattled off several more numbers, and then asked, "Are you sure?"

James let out a small snort. "Why wouldn't I be? You were drunk off your rocker anyways." That wasn't exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if Alastair's words had meant anything but now didn't exactly seem like the right time. Alastair clearly was near a breaking point.

"You don't think I'm—"

Once again, Alastair cut off but this time he didn't continue. Finally James asked, "Think you're what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," mumbled Alastair as he finally moved his head from his huddled position.

Seeing the state of it, James immediately went to rub some of the sick off, cleaning off the areas around his lips and chin with the running water.

"I can take care of myself," Alastair said irritably, sounding a little more like himself.

"I'm sure but everyone needs a helping hand occasionally," replied James as after he was done he reached up and turned the water off. Getting up, he grabbed the nearest towel and started drying off Alastair's hair before the other could protest. "Come on, let's get you into something drier."

Standing up, James held out his hand and after some hesitation Alastair took it and was pulled up. After stepping out of the shower he stopped though and just stared for a moment.

"You're dripping."

Thinking of several sarcastic comments, James held his tongue and took one step onto the bath mat. "Better?"

"It actually doesn't matter."

"Why'd you say it as a question?"

"I don't know?"

Rolling his eyes, James muttered, "Listen, we can stand here asking pointless questions or we can go get dry before we catch pneumonia."

"It's a flat, not the arctic."

"Whatever. Do you want to get in something dry or not?"

Alastair let out a soft sigh but nodded and quickly headed to his bedroom. As he didn't say anything else, James silently followed him and eventually stood in a slowly growing puddle. Alastair grabbed a pair of sweats and a shirt and carefully held them out to James.

"Leave your wet cloths in the bathroom. I'll take care of them."

"Thanks. You know, I'm surprised you have cloths so simple and homey."

Alastair sighed in irritation but the exhaustion was also clear in his voice as he said, "Get changed James."

Giving a small nod in response and keeping his mouth zipped, James quickly left and got changed, putting his wet cloths into a neat little pile. Unsure of where to go from there, he decided the kitchen was safe and waited for Alastair to finish.

As he sat on a stool, his bare toes curled around a bar, he noted how cold the apartment actually was. His suit and complications of last night had caused him not to notice but as he waited, he could feel the air as it bit into his damp skin underneath the thin shirt and sweats. The sweats themselves were a bit long and shirt a little tighter than it probably was on Alastair but otherwise the cloths fit pretty well.

When Alastair finally came in, he seemed kind of surprised. "You're still here."

"You just let me borrow some cloths and you expect me to ditch immediately afterwards? What kind of guests do you have over?"

"I just…wasn't sure."

"Alastair, I don't think any less of you if that's what you're getting at. You're still my best friend."

"Best…friend?"

"Well I could say colleague or associate but that sounds like something you might say," responded James with a grin.

"Lily is your best friend."

"You can have multiple best friends silly. We're not five. Besides, there are things I can talk about with you that I can't talk to her." James gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "And anyways, if what you said and did while drunk doesn't mean anything then it doesn't. It's okay."

"Really?"

The way he said it made James fairly certain that he didn't believe what that but that he would pretend so. James wanted to press, he liked Alastair if he was being honest with himself, but that fondness was also why he decided not to press. He didn't want to lose Alastair over something stupid like this, didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable as he undoubtably would be, and he certainly didn't want to push him where he didn't want to go. So, swallowing all questions and accusations, James said, "Of course really. Don't be so uptight. Now, what sounds good for breakfast? Water and aspirin?"

Giving a small nod, Alastair directed James to the cabinets where he quickly grabbed was need and then slid them over to Alastair who had now taken a seat.

As he swallowed the pills, James said, "Kay, now I'm not going to press about anything else but I would like to know why you were drinking in the first place."

"It…I wasn't prepared."

"For what?"

"Emotions."

"See, you mentioned that last night and I didn't fully get it then. Care to explain?"

Letting out a small sigh, Alastair replied, "I've seen people die in the field. Sometimes completely unconnected to me, sometimes I've directly or indirectly caused their deaths. But they've never really affected me. When I'd thought…..it shocked me how much I couldn't bare the idea that…..you could have…..and I just…."

"I get what you're trying to say," James replied kindly as he interrupted Alastair's rambling. "And hey, look on the bright side. Welcome to what it means to be human."

"Being human sucks then."

"Oh hush," said James. "Now, what do we need to do today?"

"I don't understand…"

"You still look pretty terrible so you're definitely not going back to work and I still have nearly twelve hours before I have to so what do you need?"

Still clearly confused, Alastair said, "You don't have to stay."

"I don't mind though if you want me to leave I certainly can—"

"No, it's fine. There just doesn't seem to be a reason for you to stay."

"I have every reason to stay," James responded with a roll of his eyes. "You're my friend, you're not feeling great, and I can do crap like go out and get food or drugs and make you laugh. Makes sense to me."

Hesitating once more, Alastair's shoulders finally sagged as he mentally came to a decision. "Seeing as one of us didn't try to murder their organs, I'm sure you're starving. Help yourself as far as food goes."

"That's the spirit!"

Alastair groaned. "Not so loud."