[You keep talking and all he hears is THEY TRIED TO MAKE ME GO TO REHAB~ but okay, it makes sense. He brushes a hand over his face and cringes. Something weird that's almost a memory comes up, but just as quickly goes back down, leaving only one word: Hijacked. Might as well be a nonsense word.]
This the part where you try to tell me I need help and put me back on my feet? [Because he's heard it before.... Okay, he's sure he's heard it before, because he's a fucking alcoholic with PTSD.]
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This the part where you try to tell me I need help and put me back on my feet? [Because he's heard it before.... Okay, he's sure he's heard it before, because he's a fucking alcoholic with PTSD.]