Summary: Joe let himself smile for half a second before sobering and shaking his head. “I’ve known you a long time and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. Maybe you got this way when I was too young to notice or wasn’t around to remember, but… I don’t know, seeing you down here tonight all alone, I sort of got worried.” Or, after Laura Dayton’s departure, Joe finds his oldest brother in need of some consolation. A WHN for the “Triangle.”

Word Count: 2,316   Rating: PG

Author’s Note: This is a What Happened Next for the “Triangle” and is rated for excessive alcohol use. The title comes from Mumford & Sons’ song “Guiding Light.” Enjoy!

He’d never seen his brother drunk before.

Sure, the three of them had overindulged a handful of times when they were younger. But to be fair, Joe had been too wasted himself to remember seeing Adam have anything but half-hidden signs of a hangover the morning after.

It had already been a restless night and Joe was half-awake when he heard a crash echo downstairs. The sleepy part of his brain told him that Adam would get it, Pa and Hoss being out of town on business. The other part of him jolted upright, now wide awake.

He expected to see a broken window and maybe have to do some shooting at whoever had decided to trespass at such an hour…

Instead, he rounded the stairwell to find Adam sitting at the dining room table, all alone save for a half-full bottle of whiskey and another empty bottle lying precariously close to the edge of the table.

All was quiet, as it usually was when Adam sat alone. Normally, he sat with a book and maybe a glass of wine. But, then again, Joe supposed not much had been normal since Will had run off with Adam’s bride.

Joe took a quick survey of the room. The shattered glass on the floor against the far wall was the only giveaway that emotions were running high that night. He’d never get any sort of sign like that from his brother’s face, which sat as stoic as ever.

Adam’s low voice filtered through the air. “Everything’s fine, Joe.”

Blaming that oldest child sixth sense—because how had Adam even seen him—Joe fumbled with his words. “But, I thought I heard—”

“It was nothing,” Adam cut him off. “Go back t’bed.”

And maybe he would’ve, under different circumstances. Sleep sounded a heck of a lot better than sitting with Adam at two in the morning.

It was the heavy slur clouding his brother’s words that made him stay. If he went back to bed, he would just keep dwelling on it until it drove him insane. The only solution was to pull up a chair.

No, Joe had never seen his oldest brother well and truly drunk before. Not like this.

“That doesn’t look like your bed,” was Adam’s next comment as he refilled his glass for what Joe imagined was the umpteenth time that evening.

“Good observation,” Joe countered, trying for humor. “You should do detective work for a living.”

Whatever levity he had been attempting to bring to the situation fell incredibly flat when Adam’s expression twisted into a scowl.

“Some detective I would be,” he mumbled in between a long sip of whiskey. “I couldn’t even see what was right in front of my nose. Not until it was too late…”

Oh.

For the first time that night, Joe realized exactly what he had walked into.

Are you really surprised, though?

It hadn’t been more than a week yet since Adam ditched the wheelchair. Joe could’ve kicked himself for thinking that would be the end of it. That getting out of the chair would be the final chapter in the book.

He’d almost forgotten that most books have epilogues…

Opening his mouth again didn’t seem right. After all, Adam had decided to drink in the middle of the night for a reason. He didn’t want company. He wanted…

Joe furrowed his brows. What did his brother want?

The truth hit him like a bullet to the chest. Probably the same thing you did when Melinda went away.

For her to come back.

It took another refill for Adam to speak once more, but in that moment of quiet, Joe found within himself a rare strand of patience. If necessary, he was prepared to sit there in silence all night.

If that’s what his brother needed, then so be it.

“Who does that…?” Adam asked, his voice so soft that even from across the table, Joe had to strain to hear.

“Does what?”

Adam didn’t reply at first, taking another long drink.

So, Joe waited, trying not to let his mind wander. If it did, he would start to wonder how many glasses of whiskey had once been in that empty bottle, and for his own peace of mind, that was a question best left unanswered.

“We have bad luck with love,” Adam went on at last. “I know that. Take one look at Pa and you can’t help but know that. But… Well, what kind of cousin runs off with your woman?”

A bitter laugh cut through the tense quiet as Adam shook his head. That wasn’t a move Joe would have taken in that state, if the wince on his brother’s face was anything to go by.

“And what kind of woman lets herself get stolen by your cousin…”

The last one, Joe noted, wasn’t as much of a question as it was a cruel statement of fact. A fact they had all come to realize in those last days before Laura Dayton left.

All of them except Adam.

Joe just couldn’t figure it out, to be brutally honest. His brother had always been one of the best judges of character he knew. Adam could tell you who you were up against before you were even sure of it yourself. And yet, he’d let this woman take him for a ride and leave him in the dust.

“Isn’t…” Joe cleared his throat, keeping his tone soft. “Isn’t there some sort of poem or saying that you’ve quoted before about love blinding you?”

Because maybe that’s what happened. It was the only explanation Joe could conjure up.

Adam laughed again, this one no less bitter than the first, though not as biting. More weary. Like he was just waiting for the alcohol to do its work and take him out for the night.

“There’re a lot of poems about that, Joe,” Adam whispered. “Maybe the problem is that I just didn’t quote them enough.“

With that, he poured himself another drink, causing Joe to wonder if they were both just doomed to watch that bottle drain to nothing.

If they were both just passively waiting for the inevitable to happen.

He knew that’s why his brother was there, no doubt about it.

So, why are you here?

Joe didn’t have an answer beyond I heard a crash in the night. But when he came down the stairs, he’d been ready to fight an entirely different kind of battle—the kind that involved guns and fists, not words and sympathy.

Maybe Adam didn’t even want words and sympathy. He came down here to be alone, so just leave him alone. What’s so hard about that?

It would be easier, wouldn’t it? To go back to bed like his brother had told him to. But what then?

With only a small fraction of an idea, Joe got up. Adam didn’t even blink until he sat back down, glass in hand.

“What?” Joe asked at the sight of his brother’s stare. “As long as I’m up, I might as well have a drink, too. Misery loves company, right?”

Adam snorted at this but poured Joe a drink nonetheless. His hand shook, trembling ever-so-slightly and making the whiskey slosh against the sides of the glass. Finished with Joe’s, he poured himself another.

And Joe couldn’t keep the grimace off his face.

“I saw that, you know.”

Joe refused to startle, glancing up mid-sip and setting his features.

“Things might be getting a little blurry around the edges, but I saw that face,” Adam went on. “I don’t need you down here feeling sorry for me. I can do that well enough on my own.”

“I’m not here to feel sorry for you,” Joe countered. “I’m here to drink with you.”

But Adam was already shaking his head as a knowing expression settled on his features. “If that was your aim, you would’ve come down earlier. No, you’re here because you heard something go thump in the night and now you feel like you can’t leave. Well, I don’t need the pity, Joe. I don’t need it.“

“No,” Joe whispered, not even sure he was on board yet with where his brain was telling him to go. “No, you don’t. But maybe you could use some empathy.”

Adam’s only response was to drain the last of the bottle, his glass all but forgotten and now completely unnecessary.

“Do you…” Joe swallowed, a vain attempt to clear his throat of any rebellious emotions. “Do you remember what you said to me when Laura… Laura White… Well, when she left?”

Adam only knit his brows, clearly trying to recall—and failing miserably.

Taking a deep breath, Joe continued, “You said something like, everyone you meet and every life that touches you will always hold a special place in your heart—even when you know you’ll never see them again.”

“But Laura died,” came the blunt response that Joe forced himself to blame on the alcohol, not on Adam. “She didn’t leave you.”

“No, but Melinda did…” Joe said, unable to get his voice to rise above a whisper. He swallowed again, waiting for his brother to say something. Nothing came but a stinging silence. “Melinda Banning,” he clarified when Adam’s expression clouded in confusion. “I loved her, Adam, I… I…” He sucked in a breath and shook his head. “I guess she didn’t return the sentiment, even after you were out of the picture. And I don’t know why certain people chose to leave, I just don’t. I don’t pretend to either. But I…”

What? What else was there to say?

Finding his mouth suddenly dry, Joe took another sip of his drink. This was far from how he thought the night was going to play out.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed with a slow nod, letting his chin settle onto his propped-up hand. “Can’t choose who stays and who goes. That’s just life, isn’t it?”

Joe could only shrug and blink away the teary memory of Melinda, of Laura…

“Now that it’s over,” Adam began again a few moments later, “I can’t tell if I really loved Laura—if I really wanted her like I should have—or if I was only thinking of Peggy. Damn it, Joe, I loved that little girl… It hadn’t even been that long and she already felt like my own. We all say we want love, to find the perfect soulmate, but maybe all a man truly wants is to be a father. Did you ever think of that?”

“Maybe… that’s not so bad.” Joe gave another small shrug. “Just look at Pa.”

“Yeah…” Reaching for the bottle had become second nature by now, but when the whiskey came up empty, Adam tossed it to the side.

Joe caught it before it could roll off the table.

“Why’d you come down here, Joe?”

The question caught him by surprise and he felt his expression crunch. “I already told you, to share a drink.”

“I might’ve just gone through two bottles of Pa’s best whiskey, but I’m smarter than that. You came down here because you heard that crash.”

“… Maybe. So what?”

Adam studied him for a moment, head barely staying upright atop his hand. “All right. Why’d you stay, then?”

That was the real question, one Joe wasn’t sure he knew how to answer. Not at first…

Not until he took another long look at his brother and blew out a sigh.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I guess… Well, look, I’ve known you a long time, Adam,” he went on, pausing as his brother let out a chuckle. Joe even let himself smile for half a second before sobering and shaking his head. “I’ve known you a long time and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. Maybe you got this way when I was too young to notice or wasn’t around to remember, but… I don’t know, seeing you down here tonight all alone, I sort of got worried.”

Letting his eyes flutter shut, Adam massaged the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me, Joe. I’ll be fine.”

“And if I told you that had the roles been reversed, would you have agreed and gone back upstairs?” The lack of reply was all the confirmation Joe needed. “I thought so. You’re not the only caretaker in this family, older brother. And you’re not the only one who cares.”

When Joe couldn’t tell if Adam was nodding in understanding or about to face-plant on the table, he decided the time for sitting in the quiet had ended.

“All right, come on.” Before Adam could protest, Joe got up and slung his brother’s arm across his shoulders, guiding him to lie down on the settee.

For the most part, Adam made no protests about it, and that was perhaps what concerned Joe the most.

“You know,” he said, trying to bring a bit of levity to the situation, “I know you’re not gonna remember this tomorrow…” Grabbing a blanket, he carefully spread it atop Adam. “I really should take advantage of this and tell you some deep, weird secret of mine, then mention I told you about it tomorrow and watch your face when you can’t remember.”

As Adam settled against the pillow, eyes barely managing to stay open, he grinned. “Sounds like something you’d do.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed, sitting opposite his brother on the edge of the coffee table. “But I don’t think you’d be able to stay awake long enough to hear it all. So, I’ll just tell you to get some sleep. And that you’re going to be okay. Did you hear that, Adam?”

His brother’s eyes had fully closed now and Joe honestly couldn’t tell if he was still listening.

That didn’t matter, Joe decided as he leaned forward and tugged the blanket higher over Adam’s shoulders.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

The End

Tags:  ESA, Grief, JAM