On a better day, namely a day in which he wasn’t inebriated Zach would have picked up on the sigh. But he was so far gone he barely noticed anything unless it had a neon sign above it. Later if he remembered this incident at all, he would regret the fact that anyone had actually seen him like this. He usually saved getting this drunk for when he didn’t plan on leaving his cell. Today had been different, though and his cell would have just felt claustrophobic.
Maybe he wasn’t entirely fine, but he was also too proud to ask for any kind of help at the current moment. He had got himself into this state and he would get himself out of it, even if it took a couple of hours of sobering up before he could achieve that.
“Wasn’t my plan to stop here,” Zach replied with his head still in his hands. He used to think the pounding in his head reminded him that he was alive, but at that moment he really just wanted it to stop so he could move. “You could have just kept walking….” After all most people would have just kept walking. Actually he kind of hoped most people would just ignore him while he was in this state.
He only vaguely registered her hand on his arm, his head was still spinning and the floor was swaying back and forth. Could a person get seasick if they weren’t even on a boat? Zach felt like he was on a boat at the moment, this was the part of getting drunk off his ass that he disliked. But he always forgot about how terrible this feeling was until he was experiencing it again. Looking up he noticed that Leah wasn’t leaving, no, instead she was leaning against the wall across from him.
“Who made you the judge of that?” His question was mostly muffled by the position he had his head in. He knew he looked like hell, felt kind of like it as well. Still, he wasn’t looking for other people to tell him that. “Nobody died,” He answered as he brought his head up out of his hands. Not today anyway.No, he was mourning the death of someone who was long gone. “I’m aware of that fact, thanks.” Zach had learned a long time ago that as long as he did everything within his power a patient’s death wasn’t his fault.
His expression shifted into a scowl, or what passed for a scowl while his head was pounding. “I don’t,” he might be a functioning alcoholic, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Drinking is strictly an off duty thing.”