Comfort

Part Seven

"Hey, Dom, is Roger home?"

Dominique sighed as she looked behind her, seeing Roger opening a bottle of southern comfort. Brian called ahead, not wanting to just come over unannounced, but Dominique considered just saying no, he wasn't home.

"He's here.. Just started his first bottle of the night. If you'd like to talk to him I suggest you do it now."

"Mind if I come over?"

Dom paused to look back at Roger before sighing. "No, it's fine. I'll try to keep him sober until you get here."

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When Brian told Chrissie that he was going over the Roger's, she resisted the urge to jump up and down in excitement. This was the first time since being home that Brian was going out, and even though he was just going for a quick five-minute drive, she was very happy. She thought that, perhaps, Brian was getting out of the funk he was in, and she would soon be getting her husband back.

When Brian knocked on the front door of Roger's house, he was greeted by a very tired-looking Dominique, holding Felix, who was fast asleep in her arms.
"He's upstairs," was all she said, before taking her son into the living room.

Brian closed the door behind him and started up the stairs, stepping quietly so he wouldn't awaken Felix and further stress Dominique. There was always a noticeable tension in this house, and it was mostly due to Roger and Dominique's.. relationship. She was always upset over something, and Roger well, he was always just Roger.

All of the bedroom doors were open, except for one, so Brian assumed that's where Roger would be. He knocked softly on the wood, and opened the door when he heard a "Go away, Dom!" from inside.

Roger was facedown on the bed, holding a pillow over his head. The lights were off and the shades were drawn, making it very hard to see.

"It's not Dom, Roggie, it's me." Brian spoke softly, leaning against the doorframe.

Roger instantly sat up, his jaw dropping when he saw the figure dark figure that belonged to Brian in the doorway of the guest room. "Brian?!"

The guitarist chuckled. "Yep. In the flesh."

Roger froze. What should he do? Why was Brian here? Was he upset? What did he want? So many questions bounced around in Roger's mind, but before he could ask any, Brian began to speak.

"I just wanted to ask you something." He stayed in the doorway, purposefully keeping his distance from the drummer. He wasn't sure he could keep his cool if he got closer to Roger.

"Wh-what is it?" Roger stood, running his fingers through his hair to try and fix it up a bit.

"Have you talked to Chrissie since we got home?"

"Now why the hell would I talk to Chrissie?" The slight edge in Roger's voice was a clear indication that he didn't wish to discuss Brian's wife. But Brian, of course, kept pressing.

"She was talking like she knew someth-"

"Well, knowing you, you were probably acting all bitchy and shutting her out."

The words just spewed from Roger's lips, tinted with venom created by a mix of Brian's nerve-wracking presence and the fact that Dom took his bottle from him ten minutes earlier. He wanted Brian to be here, yet just having him standing there and accusing the blonde of doing something they both know he'd never do was rather aggravating and wore on what little patience Roger had.

Brian sighed, looking down at the carpeted floor. Well that certainly wasn't the sort of response he expected. He should have, though. Roger knew him too well. His fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he decided that doing the latter would be best.