The phone rang shrilly, jolting him from his sleep. Jeff groaned, burying his aching head under the pillow to block out the unwanted noise. He held the pillow tighter and tried to will the ringing to stop. But it persisted and even seemed to get louder. With a sigh, he shoved the pillow off his head and snatched the phone from its cradle.

"What?" He croaked out, his voice thick and raspy from non-use.

Instead of a human that he could release his pent up frustration on, he was subjected to an overly chipper automated wake-up call. He rolled his eyes at the annoyance and slammed the phone down, cutting off the robotic voice. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes against the brightness filling the ugly hotel room.

He expelled a tremulous breath, "Life sucks."

Just as he was about to roll over to go back to sleep for a while, there was a knock on his door. Lines of pain surged through his throbbing head and he winced as the knocking became persistent. Since whoever the hell it was obviously wasn't going to give up, he reluctantly got out of bed. The infuriating sound continued as he crossed the room and he wrenched the door open with a low growl.

Maria beamed at him, the picture of cheerfulness as she thrust a cup toward him. "I figured that you could use this."

The look he trained on her was perplexed and caused another pain to shoot through his head as his eyebrows drew together. "How did you…"

His question died on his lips as jumbled images skittered through his mind. They were fuzzy but he could recall seeing her face in a few of them. He accepted the offered cup and released a shaky breath. "Thanks. You want to come in?"

"Sure." She entered the room and turned toward him as he closed the door. A small trickle of laughter bubbled from her as she took in his disheveled appearance. "Well, I guess I don't need to ask how you're feeling this morning."

"If you did, the answer would be I feel like there's someone inside my head, repeatedly driving a sledgehammer into my brain then setting it on fire." He paused to take a sip from the cup she gave him and almost choked on the vile tasting liquid. It wasn't the coffee he had been expecting. Sniffing it, he grimaced. Whatever was in the cup, smelled and tasted like disgusting medicine. "Not to be rude but what the hell is this?"

"It's an old family secret. It tastes horrible but it really does get rid of a hangover, even a nasty one like you have." She informed him, cocking her head to the side as she studied him carefully. "But it won't help with the fuzzy memory."

"Yeah, well, I'm used to that." A rueful grin spread against his lips as he looked at her. "I think I remember some things from last night though."

"Oh really?"

He concentrated hard, ignoring the stab of agony that it caused him. "You ran into me downstairs in the bar. Saw I was smashed and helped me back to my room."

"After I saved you from some ring rat who was looking to take advantage of your precarious state." She clucked her tongue. "Figured you wouldn't mind, unless of course you wanted to join the STD club."

"Thanks." He took another sip from the cup and made a face as he forced himself to swallow the concoction. "But I wasn't the only one that had a bad night. How are you doing?"

Maria tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes. "He called. Tried to lie about what I heard. When he figured out that I wasn't buying his excuse, he confessed it all."

"And?"

"Then I dumped him." She shrugged, "Told him where he could find his ring and what he could do with it once he did."

He gave a chuckle of appreciation and drank some more of her hangover cure. As he drank the unappealing liquid, he could feel her eyes assessing him. The feeling was uncomfortable, like she was trying to see inside his head. "What?"

"I was just wondering if maybe you were having a similar issue."

Jeff chuckled but it held no humor and sounded bitter to his own ears. "Why would you think something like that?"

"Because no one intentionally drinks that much unless they're trying to numb themselves."

The petite brunette was more insightful than he thought and the observation hit that still open wound. He looked own at the rug, scowling. "Maybe I'm just a drunk. It's just one more addiction and label to add to the long lists."

"You're not a drunk." Her tone was soft but firm. "You're someone who's in a lot of pain and it's not physical pain. It's emotional. The kind that happens when you've suffered through love gone wrong."

"It didn't go wrong." He mumbled, eyes still downcast. "I killed it."

"You don't know…"

"I fucked up. She married someone else. End of story." He snapped angrily, wishing that she'd let this go.

Maria gave him a small smile and he knew that once again, he wasn't going to get what he wanted. "In this life, nothing is ever really an end. Just a new beginning. So don't let the negative thoughts get to you. It only makes the pain worse."