I Think I'm in Trouble {Reimagined}

XCVII.

At around three a.m. that morning, Stevie opened her eyes, wide awake considering she had slept from midday all the way into the night. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed as she stared up at the ceiling, little by little reeling back into reality.

Looking over at Lindsey sleeping soundly, she moved quietly and pulled the covers off of herself. She grabbed a hold of her journal and glasses before making her way out of the room, checking on Lily before making her way down the stairs. 

Once she got to the main story, she sighed with relief and slipped into the kitchen. Turning on the stove light, to keep everything pretty dim, she reached for a small pot rather than the kettle and she filled it with water. While it boiled, she brought down one of two things; a mug and a shot glass.

Just as she pulled the bottle of whiskey down, Robert emerged from the guest bedroom---having heard her going about things that morning.

Right when she was pouring alcohol into the small glass, she looked up to see him.

"What are you doing up?" she wondered, her tone was nothing but neutral. She felt so numb that she didn't even try to hide what she was doing.

"I'm still on New York time..." he stated, rubbing his face. "I heard somebody down here."

She nodded.

"I feel like we're up for the same reason," he added.

"You're not gonna lecture me, right?" she wondered, bringing the shot to her lips.

"No... Just make it two," he replied.

She leered for a second but then realized he was serious.

They were both dealing with the loss of their oldest child, it was that simple---of course he needed a drink.

"You promised me a drink," he replied, doing his best to lighten the mood.

She grabbed another shot glass and poured him one, sliding it over to him before getting her boiling water off the stove. 

Initially, her plan was to put the shot of whiskey in her tea, but her head was not catching up with her actions as she was grieving and overall exhausted. She was just trying to appease herself, make herself feel better and a shot or two of whiskey at three a.m. was what she needed after the news from the day before.

She prepared her tea like normal and then walked around the island to take a seat on the bar stool.

Robert followed her, bringing the bottle of alcohol closer to them while he slid onto the seat next to her.

"I was gonna try and write, but I don't feel like I can even function," she rested an elbow on the table, allowing her forehead to fall into her palm---just to the side so she could face him.

"Don't force yourself," he reassured her. 

"I don't know what to do with myself..." she admitted, bringing the second shot to her lips, simply sipping it. Sitting up, she moved her hand from her head to her chest as she took a deep breath. She clenched it, "My heart is broken."

"I know," he easily turned to wrap an arm around her. "Mine too."

Perhaps it was adrenaline, maybe even denial---but Robert was dealing with things a little better. He too was just so stunned that in that moment, they were mourning the death of their son, their first born.

"Ever since we were told, all I could think about was the day we brought him home from the hospital..." she explained. 

He followed along, transporting back to the year 1968 like it was simply the day before.