Fallon could have remained curled up on Jesse's lap until the end of time without complaint. Despite having skipped at least three meals, the thought of eating curdled her stomach. Truthfully, her foremost desire was to sleep for a year and move beyond this grief. Her thoughts were moving too quickly for her to rest comfortably though. Too much guilt (when had she last visited Daniel?) to squash the thoughts without the aid of alcohol, too.

The grumble of Jesse's stomach was impossible to miss. It had to be near dinner time by now, or had that time come and gone? Fallon squeezed his hand and laid heavily against him for a second longer before wordlessly rising on unsteady legs. "Wouldn't mind a drink," she more mumbled than anything. Drinking had always been a coping mechanism in her family, Merlin knew Daniel could easily outdrink her.