A/N: I apologize for the delay. I honestly have not been feeling the OLTL love lately. Again I am a feedback whore, a total comment slut. So help keep me off the streets and tell me what you think- good or bad.

Part Four: Drink Me Silent

Sometimes, well more often than not if he was honest, he found himself going for a drink or two after work. A shot of something searing, something to burn her image away, and then a beer to nurse. There sitting on his stool he would people watch and wonder how they all seemed so blissful when all he wanted to do was scream out in agony. He had a few places he went, a one place he never did, memories were far too strong there. So he found himself pulling into Capricorn, a decent alterative, a place where he didn't see her everywhere he looked.

Tonight he needed a drink badly, three days ago a simple ring had blown his world apart, and now he was slowly destroying whatever was left standing. What was the point without her? As soon as he hit the doors, Cris was there, invading his space. "Jess sent you?" He looked John up and down with distrust evident on his face. "Ya know what, don't worry about it man. I will see if I can call Sarah and get her to cover for me while I take her home."

Her. John didn't need a name to understand who they were talking about. There was only one girl that was ever mentioned between them. His eyes quickly scanned the room. He found her easily, her bright blue halter top and tight dark jeans were meant to stand out. She was swaying against tall blonde on the dance floor, her feet wobbly beneath her.

"Damn." John wasn't sure if the word came from his throat or Christian's. Natalie sure knew how to self destruct, she didn't do it quietly like he did, sips drank in the shadows. No. She went out in a blaze of glory. Christian reached them before he did and though John couldn't hear the words yelled over the thundering of his own heart, he watched as the painter pulled her away, dragging her by her elbow on shuffling feet and gently pushed Natalie into a rounded booth. John's eyes raked over her slouching against the table in front of her, her one hand propping up her drooping head, the other arm sprawled ungainly across the polished wood. No glinting stones met his eyes, and somewhere amidst all the concern he felt a trickle of relief.

"How much did you serve her?" John asked as Natalie pouted, a wordless whine coming from her sweet red lips.

Cris raised his hands. "Hey, she was like this when my shift started. I called Jessica over an hour ago and she said she was on her way to pick her up. I don't know what is taking her so long. Jess is always so good about this sorta thing."

With that Natalie burst into a fit of giggles, uncontrollable laughter bubbling up at the irony of the situation. John watched her with anxiety, something was dangerously off here. "That's because Jessica is the Good sister." Her words slurred slightly as she tapped the table without any rhythm waiting for more sentences to form. "That why you liked Jess, right?" Her hair covered most of her face but her eyes still sent a pointed gaze at Cris. "She isn't the trailer trash Buchanan?"

Christian felt something long since buried hurt for her. He had known that angry girl who wanted to belong while screaming that she didn't care. Sometimes it was easy to forget that his Natalie and this Natalie were the same person, hard to imagine the girl that was the gem of her family could still feel that she was an outcast. "Natalie…"

But if Natalie registered the softness in his glowing brown eyes, it had no effect on her. She was burning too hot and any hand extend to her she would sear with white blistering truth. "And you do know there are other girls in the world besides Buchanan girls? Right? First Jess, and then me, and then Sarah. Who's next?"

"Okay." John could see this was all spiraling out of hand. Her frustration was falling all over, drops of rain that landed on who ever was the closest to her at the moment. "Natalie, you might want to be quiet before you say something you regret. Cris is just trying to help."

"I don't need help." She ungracefully pushed herself from her booth, momentarily tripping over her feet gangly before righting herself. "I need another drink."

"I already told you, "Cris nearly yelled at her, reigning in his frustration with a gossamer strand of restraint. "You have been cut off."

"Fine." Natalie huffed, pushing back a strand of hair from in front of her face. "Then I am going to dance, that is unless you want to cut off my feet too." She headed for the dance floor but the heel of her shoe caught in the hem of her dark jeans sending her crashing into John's arms.

"Whoa." John helped to right her, Natalie tipping in her dark heels.

Natalie giggled, intoxication blanketing everything in a hard humorous light, the tequila strong on her breath. "If you wanted a dance all you had to do was ask."

"I think you've done enough dancing for one evening." John replied as he fought not to notice how her body was smashed against his own, torsos touching, the soft jersey knit of her bright blue halter caressing the silk of his gray shirt.

Natalie pushed herself away from him, stumbling slightly as Christian placed a hand on her lower back steadying her. "Party pooper." She muttered. With a sigh, her mind hazy in a fog of lime and salted shots, she turned in Christian's arm, his hand sliding across the narrow of her side, resting on her taught stomach. "What do you say? Dance with me?" In the moment she does not appear to be a drunken fool, she oozed sexuality, a cat merely playing with its dinner.

Cris was not granted time to answer, John saw the split second hesitation and jumped in to the fray. "He can't Natalie. I am taking you home and putting you to bed."

"Putting me to bed, huh?" Natalie purrs. John didn't reply, his mouth had gone dry at her implication. Instead he started to guide her to the door. "Sorry." She called a little too loudly before once again tripping over her own feet.

John rubbed the back of his neck, muttering to himself darkly about her stupid shoes before sweeping her up in his arms, a fallen child too tired to walk. "I'll take care of her." He called out to Cris, a bite of protectiveness entering his voice. Cris said nothing, but he felt that John was in much more danger than Natalie, he knew first hand how hard Natalie's wrath could fall down.

It took ten minutes before John had Natalie situated in his silver sedan and another five driving down the dark streets, streetlights lighting her face before casting it back into shadows before he was able to speak. "You okay?" He asked, her eyes looking vacantly in front of her, as she slouched in her seat.

She didn't answer and for a moment John wondered if she had even heard him or if she was too out of it to even notice the question. Instead she turned her head and watched the street lights douse the world in and out of the inky black night. "You know better than to ask that." Her answer was much steadier than he had been expecting. And he did, he did know better than to ask her a simple question with an impossible answer.

Her exit was approaching and once against he found himself double checking to see that the ring was really gone, a piece of his stomach unclenching at the sight of her unadorned hand. He nodded to the green approaching exit sign. "Llandfair?" Natalie shook her head 'no' and John understood, sometimes the words were too painful to say. "Okay." He replied as he let the exit pass them by and together in silence they drove, one chance gone and another one up ahead.

TBC