WHO: Much and Erato WHEN: Saturday night WHERE: Diogenes WHAT: Going back to work WARNINGS: TBA
On Friday, Much had scraped himself off the metaphorical floor and tried to go about setting things to rights instead of making, and utterly focusing on, all his mistakes. This was a tentative process, since his head pounded and nausea kept pace with him throughout the day, but he managed. Even cleaned his room, the room he'd abandoned while the lads were missing and then abandoned any kind of care of since they got back, because why should he put his laundry away when Marian was missing? And then he'd bought home a bag of stuff he'd been keeping at Leila's and dumped that into the deal-with-it-later pile then ignored it for most of the week.
Getting drunk with Will had helped a lot though. And Rob was back. And they had a plan, with strong allies, and no one except Much was angry at Much for not being the first one to storm Arizona.
And Marcie had had... an okay week. He'd made plans to visit her every day, and there'd only been two of them when she'd been too tired to see him at all. When he did see her, he'd managed to make her laugh - he'd even gotten a snort out of Tragos - and in those moments he didn't regret his decision to stay, not a bit.
It was when he wasn't with her, and when the other guys weren't around, that were the hardest. Thoughts of Marian and the Sheriff. Thoughts of Marian and Beelzebub. Thoughts of the scars the boys had bought home (internal and external) nagging at his mind. Once the plan was set, with Team Artemis was riding south and Team Rob waiting for paperwork, there wasn't anything for Much to do except bash walls of a old toilet with the lads and clean his room.
So he called up Diogenes and asked if he could come in. He needed something to do that wasn't life-and-death, and to be honest, driving about New Jersey with Alan all the time wasn't cheap and he'd whittled away a whole bunch of his savings on gas and gas station food.
It'd been the right decision, to come back. He was another day away from his hangover so the smell of alcohol didn't turn his stomach, though he didn't feel like touching the rum with a ten foot pole quite yet. There was a lot of gossip to catch up on behind the bar - relationships were blossoming between Vividha and Hans - and it had been a busy night of mixing drinks and chatting with a hen party, though they'd left for some livelier club about half an hour before closing and left the rest of the bar feeling really rather quiet.
He didn't regret coming in. It was nice. Maybe it could be the start of a trend. A whole string of things he didn't regret. Wouldn't that be something?