"Alright, to start the handgun is probably the best way to go anyway." That didn't mean she'd bring bigger ones, for her own benefit.
Shepard scratched at her head just a little, before she lifted her coffee and took a sip. "This may sound like bullshit, but I don't think I'll ever be able to be totally on the wagon. There's stuff that I've seen, that I still see, at night. I wake up in a cold sweat, like I'm still there. And if I don't knock one back, my hands shake, my head spins, and I go full panic mode. But I'm here to help keep it to one or two, not ten or eleven... twenty on a bad night." She knew she had PTSD, why deny it.