#draft from a while back

Angst. Alcohol is involved. Swearing too. Sam is badly hurt. Not sure what this is about tbh.

One of Darlin's favourite places to go after a fight is a bar. Whether they win the fight, or lose the fight- it never mattered, alcohol fixes everything.

And tonight, Darlin hope the same could be true. More than ever, they hoped alcohol could bs their reprieve and savior. That it could fix the mess tonight was.

"Go, get some rest. We'll take care of him." A tense Vincent had told them, while Frederick and Brighteyes all but completely covered the downed vampire from the wolf's view. The insinuation was clear, Darlin may be not be the smartest wolf on the block, but they weren't completely dense. They could read between the lines.

You've done enough damage. Go.

The vampires didnt want them around, and far be it from Darlin to stay somewhere they weren't wanted.

It was pretty late, Darlin noted as they checked their phone, but there was still a considerable number of people hanging around. The bar was filled with chatter, and occasional drunken shouts of a drunkard being just a little too rowdy.

It was peaceful. It felt like home.

Darlin laughed bitterly to themselves at that. Well, wasnt that just a depressing little thought.

"The usual?"

Darlin looked up at the bartender watching them as they approached. The usual... They've been here enough to have a usual. For a moment of awful lucidity Darlin starts to wonder if maybe that should be alarming. They've been back less than a year.

... Yeah the usual wasn't going to cut it this time. Unconsciously, they rubbed the crudely healed deep wound in their side and winced.

"Don't you have something stronger?"

Darlin could just about hear Sam's chiding now. Something about their liver. David's voice joins the barrage. Man, it's been how long now and they could still perfectly hear David's tirades in their head? Darlin doesnt know whether to give David or themselves the credit.

"Your usual is already something stronger." Still, the bartender moves around behind the bar, mixing something up before pushing it to Darlin. His eyes trailed down to the werewolf's stained clothing with a raised brow. It wasnt their first time coming in looking like they've just been wrestling with alligators though.

"Rough night, huh?"

Sam's body earlier that evening flashes through their mind.

One could say that.

Darlin shrugs briefly, throwing their head back with the drink as if taking a shot before the barkeep could stop them. Damn, that was the stuff. It tasted amazing, and Darlin promptly asked for another. The bartender looked mildly disturbed, but obliged. Seems like Darlin didn't want to talk- and hey that's fine. It wasnt like they were close or anything- the bartender merely asked out of ... obligation, in a sense.

Darlin nursed their second glass more slowly, savouring the drink this time. They could feel a pleasant fuzziness start taking the edge off in their mind, but the details of what happened earlier was still uncomfortably clear.

Gods, they knew they shouldnt have let Sam get involved. They don't really know what happened, only that before they knew it, Sam was down, their fur was stained with blood, and there were deep gashes all over the shifter. From the smell, Darlin could tell only some of the blood was theirs.

Darlin took a sip of the drink.

Quinn got away again. Darlin wasnt sure what trick he used... Some weird, awful vampire voodoo magic probably. And now Sam's condition is who knows how bad and Darlin was to blame. God, how could they have been so sthpid and reckless? They've been chasing Quinn for such a long time now, they should have known better.

"Hello there, doll face. What's got your face all furrowed up?" A deep voice pipes up from beside the wolf, and a presence plops himself onto the barstool next to Darlin, a smile that's probably supposed to charming sitting on his face. Darlin lets out a quiet growl. Darlin wasn't in the mood for this today.

"What's a pretty face like you doing all alone?"

"Fuck off." A loud shattering noise reverberated through the bar, bringing with it an instantaneous silence. In Darlin's hand was a couple shards of glass, stained red with blood.

The silence was deafening. When Darlin regained their senses they could see everyonr staring at them with a mixture of shock and fear. Everyone seemed to be frozen, not knowing how to respond.

Darlin lets go of the glass, growls a final time, and storms out of the bar. No one stopped them, not even the bartender.

It's fine. Darlin has a tab there, they'll just put it on their tab and Darlin will pay it off, next time they're by... If they havent been banned.

Sinking onto the curb once they were out of the bar, Darlin cradles their bleeding hand, swearing to themselves, tears unknowingly starting to well in the corners of their eyes.