"I'm not throwing it in your face," Don Juan retorted. He was, a bit, but he also thought it was a relevant point — Hudson said he was always going to be here and he could be patient, and he said he didn't want to be lied to, but they had already tried that and it hadn't gone well. Don Juan had tried cutting back and being honest with Hudson about how it was going, and what he'd gotten for his trouble was left alone in an empty bed holding back tears, mere minutes after coming out of withdrawal. So it was all well and good for Hudson to say that Don Juan was wrong for dodging the issue and that he would prefer the real story, except that it wasn't true.

"You want to know why I was late?" he echoed back as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sure, Dean. I was busy getting drunk, and then I was busy buying drugs," he said flippantly. "And I don't have them on me and I'm not high, so I really don't see how it's any of your business. In fact," he continued, picking up speed now. "Do you know how many times I've come here high since we started this up again? Zero. And how many times have you needed to come pull me out of somewhere? Zero. I've been cutting back for you and I do all this cloak and dagger bullshit so you can pretend it's not happening and you don't give me even a little credit."

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