Hungover and Hung Up

Well... I can't remember shit all from yesterday... Even if I'm happy...it's sort of dulled by the fucking pounding in my head.

Who the holy hell let me start drinking again? I found five bottles stacked nicely by my trash can, a cold fucking ice bag on my head, and I had a blanket draped over me.

Last thing I remember was downing a few older vintages of whiskey I had neglected... After that, it was fuzzy. I think I had one of my Jack dreams, you know? Where she comes back to Sanctuary and finally handles all of the shit, and breaks me out of my depression.

Except it wasn't a fucking dream.

I woke up and there she was, passed the fuck out on the couch. My couch, which I also face fucking first in, reminding myself why I stopped drinking in the first place.

I mean, I call it my couch, since it's in my office... It's Jack's. Sort of.

Well, our couch. Usually when she's bored, she slips in, hands me a drink, and just passes out. Been a while since she's done that, her being away and all.

Looking at her is.. kind of surreal. Just like yesterday that I helped her strap on her mask, put on her cloak, and sent her off into anonymous fucking deity knows where.

She's been through fucking hell to get back here, I can tell. Someone luckily and thankfully patched her up. Her eyes are shadowed, she's exhausted, but she's Jack.

And in my stupor, passed the fuck out again, pretty sure I could hear her cleaning up my office. As much as I hate anyone touching my shit... I'm glad it's her.

Shut the fuck up, alright? I can hear all of that snickering and cooing. Fine, I get it, I admitted it over the course of four fucking posts that I clearly see Jack as a consistent part of my life.

I'm a grumpy old man that's lived way too long, and has seen too much. If there's a small, but brash constant in my life, it's my partner/former subordinate with fiery eyes and cool blue hair.

Sometimes she pisses me off. Sometimes I can't help but think she's always trying to keep ten steps ahead of me to keep me safe.

Probably laughed at my drunken state... Or.. you know. Got me to go to sleep and helped me into the shower so I didn't smell like an 18th century distillery.

I guess we talked, according to the stuff I read on the last post that she apparently put on my account... And to think, I gave her that password and login info out of the kindness... Ha, who the fuck am I kidding? She probably saw it once and memorized it for later use. 

Gotta hand it to her, she knows how to make an entrance.

What was all of that.. weird shit about me remembering things? I don't remember anything after the first hello. Was it a dream? Fuck no.

But it wasn't a nightmare either...

I think I'm ready to get back to work now...