Try to Remember
Interlude: Drunkenness
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He leans to the side, wrenching up a pellet of spittle to hock against the curb. Drunk enough to spit like a sailor but not drunk enough to hurl his broth up from his stomach. The perfect kind of drunkenness that doesn't allow the drinker to stop, but neither does it let them rest. They'll reach for the next bottle, clutching at that invisible rung that leads up the ladder to the perfect buzz.
He lurches to the left, dragging himself up from his seat at the side of the road, into the street with a bottle and a belch. Legs heavy and eyes rolling he stumbles on, sniffing and smiling at the moon.
With a curling step he turns into the alleyway, dark and cold, already reaching for his jeans' fly. With a sigh and another belch he props one hand against the wall. Far enough into the darkness for privacy, but not far enough for loneliness. With the sound of the revelry carrying down the brick corridor to his ears, he looks back and longs to be there. Just a moments absence has him yearning for more drink.
These moments are the closest thing he has to bliss. Forgetting is its own kind of pleasure. The thought of his troubles are gone from his conscious mind… But later, lying in whatever bed he's dropped into, he'll remember. Maybe he'll cry. Either way he'll know, nights like these can only prolong the feeling of sickly certainty that this will be the rest of his life. Just like his father.
Voices invade his privacy and he rolls his head around to look at the speakers, still pissing against the brickwork. His head is pounding and he misses their words, only hearing their laughter. They're dressed in dark clothes and they smell like him, like booze and smoke.
They shove him and he stumbles backwards. Trying to zip himself up he loses his balance and falls on his ass, slipping on the ice. There's no pain, that'll come later. Now, he's too drunk for pain. Too angry.
He shouts something, some unimaginative slur dribbles out of his mouth and they laugh again. He rocks to his feet, ready to give as good as he got, knock one of them on their own ass, see how they like it. Fights like these happen, it's a fact of life.
It's a god damn circus though. They spin him around and he clouts one across the jaw. Then he's on his ass again before he knows it. He lurches upwards one last time, a foot steady on the snow-covered alley corner. His other foot is not so steady.
He careens forwards, losing his balance but mangling to throw himself onto one of them. Out of nowhere pain comes blossoming through the numbness. Like a snake it snuck up on him, and it's slithering out of his chest now, making him feel stiff and cold. There's another laugh as he touches his chest. Bringing his hand up in front of his eyes he sees blood. Too much blood.
"Kevin!?"
Someone calls his name. Someone high up. An angel? A silhouette against a sphere of silvery light. Some child has cut a shape out of the moon, he thinks, too drunk and delirious for sense. Set in that fluttering human shape, are a pair of wide eyes staring down at him.
Kevin Mccormick falls onto his back and raises a hand to the rooftops of Denver. The final salute of a drowning man as he slips beneath the waves. He closes his eyes and the last thing he sees is a charcoal shadow thundering down from the sky, calling his name.
He feels cold. Then he feels nothing at all.
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A/N: It's been a while, eh? I know this isn't a chapter, but take it as proof that this story still sits in my mind. I've wanted to work on it, but events both good and bad have gotten in the way. I can't quite put an estimate on the next chapter. Heck, I rewrote the whole thing at one point, I was that unsure about it. But to help alleviate the wait, hopefully this short interlude will satisfy.
As for this interlude itself, it's a bit of a departure from my normal writing 'style' for however much I have one of those. I've had it sitting around, half-finished, for a while, but was never in the right state of mind to pull it together. Hopefully it turned out well. And if nothing else, at least it's got me writing again.
Thanks for bearing with the wait!
- Faff