"God yes." All without thinking. Sam needed a friend. He needed a 'Sammy boy' and an offer of booze because that's what felt real. A pint and a scotch, really, would be perfect right now.

He offered Peter his best smile which, at the moment, was still pretty dreadful, before he pushed away from the wall and headed back up the stairs to the jeep.

He'd probably have to take a taxi home, he really was planning on overdoing it. What Peter said was true. He was second guessing everything. Gene probably didn't exist. He was a catalyst...he was something meant to help him through his coma, nothing more.

But the loss was still devastating and the moment the fourth pint hit his blood stream, Gene was again the only thing he could think about.