A little unwilling to part with his liquid comfort, Fisher nonetheless handed the bottle over, a small frown formed on his lips. At Will's question he laughed mirthlessly, waving a hand dismissively (and drunkly) at the angel. "I can't be around someone who cries and not cry," he said truthfully. "It's super fuckign annoying because everybody cries around me, and then I start crying like I have a bigdamnvagina." He punctuated the last three words with a finger stabbing the mattress.
Shooing Minerva away with his foot, Fisher flopped back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He was starting to get the spins. Minerva had run for cover under the bed, but would not be dissuaded so easily. Will's pants cuffs were going down.