Guns & Roses

Chapter 52

                                  [Sheriff]

He was never going to complain about being hot again. Not if this is how being cold was.

At least if he was hot, it motivated him to get up and find something to do about it. Being cold just made him want to lay in the same place for the rest of time. Plus, it just seemed to make him feel down whenever it was cold.

It was easy enough to distract himself for the first few hours. Making a small fort with the left over pillows for himself, figuring out what order to layer the blankets to stay the warmest... But eventually there was nothing else to do. Nothing except feeling sad for no particular reason.

Then, by being sad, it reminded him of other things he was sad about. It was silly things at first. Like not having enough pillows to cover the back of his fort. Though, that quickly gave way to things he was really sad about.

He wondered what his family was doing. Was his mother still alive? She'd been getting up there in years when this started. It left a hollow feeling in his stomach, wondering if he'd missed his own mother's funeral.

Would his brother be angry with him? He probably had every right to be. Sheriff had up and disappeared for, three years now? Or four? He couldn't be bothered trying to keep track.

How much longer would he be here? Would his friends back home still welcome him, or would they have grown too distant? Did anyone other than family even remember him?

It was those kinds of thoughts that kept him awake all night. He yearned for sleep, but it always came uneasily.

Though, it wasn't something he wanted to readily admit, even to himself, this kind of spiralling wasn't new to him. It happened at home, too. Every Winter.

It was why he'd started visiting the local bars. He remembered vividly the day he received it as advice. It was from a friend of a friend. Said that going out and talking to people would help ease it.

So, he did. At first, the bars were nothing more than somewhere to be social. Somewhere to forget about being sad. But then, he discovered the effect of whiskey.

Maybe it made him sick the first few times, and gave him the occasional hangover. But, it was a price worth paying. For every night he drank it, it got rid of his weird feeling of sadness. Even long after he'd stopped talking to people for the night. It eased his nerves, and that was enough.

In hindsight, it was a horrible deal. He should've learned how to deal with this without alcohol, maybe then he'd have an easier time in this snowstorm. But he was in too deep now. The night, if it even was night, dragged on, and he craved the burning aftertaste of a shot. It was the only way he knew to sleep easy on these colder nights.

Usually, he could ignore it. A few days ago he was actually proud of himself. Not a single drop of alcohol since he joined these guys. But now, other than the deep feeling of inconsolable sadness lingering in his chest, was the inescapable need for a drink.

Maybe he could try the kitchen. He vaguely remembered Deimos saying something about tequila while they built the fort. Tequila wasn't really to his taste, but if it let him feel normal for a little while...

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[Hank]

This ended up being much cosier than he thought. Yes, the sheets made him look ridiculous, but this cold thing wasn't so bad.

Rather, the outside being cold was nice. He enjoyed feeling warm, without having to worry about all that sweating, and dehydration nonsense. Worst case scenario, he needed another blanket.