InsaneJournal

For three weeks Alan had been living at a hotel to avoid having to face Will, and it was really starting to cut into his savings. He could always claim that was why he’d reached out to Will, but the truth was that he missed his friend. Obviously he did, even after what had happened.

Alan was miserable. He was a guilt-and-grief filled mess, and felt as though he was about to spiral back down into a useless pile of meat every time he thought about Melpomene. Every time he thought about what he’d done to her, it was like taking a rusty knife to himself. He deserved a rusty knife.

In some ways he knew it had been the right thing to do, he knew that, but in other ways he felt like the scum of the earth: he had promised to always be with Melpomene. He had promised to make a family with her, to help raise her song, to hold her hand through labour and sing songs until he was hoarse and everyone wanted him to shut up.

Those were promises that he had made and that he had now broken.

What kind of a hero broke his promises to the pregnant woman he loved?

And, god, he still loved her. Time wasn’t dulling that yet.

But time was dulling his anger at Will for what had happened. Time was making a drunken mistake seem less painful to Alan, and he felt guilty (ah, more guilt!) about being the person who was now causing distance within the Merry Men.

And so, with his bag slung over his shoulder, Alan caught a train back to the apartment and then used the final two blocks of walking to work out what he was going to say. But even two blocks didn’t help him settle on anything and when he did open the door and saw Will already inside, the words still weren’t there.

So Alan dropped his bag and sighed heavily. “Make us a cuppa, would ya?”