He took another slow sip and looked at the glass. "Really, I'm fine, I just haven't had whiskey since my days as an Ranger. We used to celebrate with a shot after a mission. And then take another for people we'd lost." Phil went silent, turning the glass slowly in his hand. "Somedays, there were a lot of shots."
"That was the idea. Burn away the pain of losing someone with alcohol. You couldn't let yourself focus on it too long, there'd be work tomorrow."