"You're a borderline alcoholic." laughed Idaho.
"Thanks." said Hunter curtly before finishing his shot.
"You gonna call Morse and tell her?" Lance glared at his friend.
"No." he growled.
"But-"
"No."
"Hunter-"
"Shut the fuck up. I said no." he growled aggressively again.
"Don't need to be so aggressive." complained Idaho before paying his tab and walking out.
Hunter ran his hands through his hair and then rubbed his face. Yes, he was a borderline alcoholic - hell if he wasn't a fucking alcoholic already. He hated how he was pushing away everyone that cared about him. He hated what he had become, what he was doing. Ever since... Ever since the special mission in Syria everything had gone downhill. He had lost his men, he had lost his girlfriend, he had lost his head, he had lost his everything. He couldn't even think straight, and not because of the alcohol, but because the memories were just flooding to his mind. The gunshots, the blood, the pleading shouts of mercy, the pain. It wasn't an experience that he would forget, no. It had left too many scars, both physically and emotionally.
"Anoth- Another one please." he told the bartender.
"Don't." said a woman from behind him. She left a bill on the bar and turned Hunter's stool to her.
"Why." he complained. "I'm not even drunk!" he complained.
"You're not drowning in alcohol to handle your shit, Hunter." ordered Izzy.
"I'm not handling anything, love. I'm forgetting." he corrected her nodding at the bartender to confirm his drink. Izzy grabbed his cup and poured it to the floor. "Oh-kay." he shrugged.
"Enough."
"I'm fine. Another one please." he ignored her order.
"No more shots for you!" yelled Izzy. Hunter's eyes shot up to hers, widening as the bags under his eyes got darker. He stood up and hasted out of the local. He just walked aimlessly, his breath unsteady and shaky, his body shivering with every step. He couldn't hear her calling his name from behind, he could barely hear anything. He could barely see. Suddenly his instincts kicked in when he heard a loud noise. He turned to his left, finding a car headed for him. He managed to jump to the sidewalk just in time, the hard landing making him snap back into reality. He saw Heartily running to him. "What the fuck is wrong with you."
"Nothing." he said curtly. She tried to help him up, but he refused.
"You've been out of it for an entire week! Don't bullshit me."
"I was doing fine until you interrupted my drinking-"
"God knows how that would have ended." cut in Izz. "If you want to drink, drink at my place, that way I know you won't do anything stupid." she offered. He rolled his eyes, but agreed, he knew it was the only way he'd be able to get alcohol for the night.
Izzy opened the door of her apartment, Idaho immediatley looking at her and Bobbi rushing out of the kitchen. They looked at her confused, expecting Hunter to be there as well. Heartily wasn't one to fail on a mission, especially if it involved her close friends AKA family. She left the door open, dropping the keys in a nearby desk as she stepped inside.
"He had another panic attack." she informed.
"Another?" asked Bobbi concerned.
"First one was when I said 'no more shots', he freaked out and ran outside almost getting killed by a car." she explained, "Second one was when I stepped on the damn cat outside and yelled 'what was that.' He's outside, getting it together."
"What the hell happened, Idaho?"
"Last assignment, in Syria, things went south, it was bad. Only two people made it out alive, and barely. Then one of them died in the hospital. Hunter was the only survivor. The SAS said it was a success, but the cost behind it was... far too great. I don't know all the details, only that Hunter was in charge and that 13, well 14 with the guy who died last week, men were lost."
Hunter stepped in, looking hollow and cold. He closed the door behind him, nodding at Izzy and Idaho. He then spotted Bobbi standing near the kitchen and he walked towards her slowly. None of the three knew what to say, or do, really. They were waiting to react on whatever he did. Hunter stopped and looked up to her blue eyes, his dark and tired. He was dangerously close to her, she could smell the alcohol from his breath, and feel the warm air that he expired.
"Don't you ever die out there, Bobbi. Ever." he ordered. Bobbi pulled him to her, hugging him tight.
"I won't." she promised. Izzy and Idaho left, making up some lame excuse as to why they wouldn't be back until morning. "Talk to me, Lance. What's wrong." Hunter looked up at her, his eyes showing how vulnerable he was, he pushed her against the wall and leaned his forehead against her.
"Do you know how much I love you? How much I need you?" he asked, his voice shaky, "I can't lose you." he carried on.
"It takes a lot to get rid of the Mockingbird." bragged Bobbi.
"That's my girl." he smiled as he kissed her. And god what a kiss, she knew exactly what was happening tonight.
Hunter threw his jacket on the floor and let her pull the shirt over his head. She was quick to strip off her clothes too, and there she was again, pinned on the wall, naked, her body attached to his. His lips on her skin as her nails clawed at his skin. She felt and saw the new scars, her heart breaking at the horrors he was most likely exposed to. She held onto him with passion, her body expressing how much she loved him with the rendezvous at place. And they fucked, and fucked again, releasing their emotions, fluids and angst.
