Kyle had been acting weird and getting on Deke's nerves since he'd returned home. The house was clean, repaired and smelling slightly antiseptic from cleaning chemicals. The locks had been replaced and new wards had been added. If a vamp got in one room, he wouldn't get out of it.
Deke's doctors hadn't been ready for him to leave. Lacerated larynx, nicked arteries, a centimeter deeper and he'd be in hell, permanently. The crisp, white shirt was buttoned loosely at the neck, as they said don't put pressure on the wound. He was glad to be home away from don't do, and the whatever he wanted to do. Kyle'd bitched at him about his breakfast choice so he'd been sent 'home' and Deke stood near the liquor cabinet, having two fingers of Highland 50. The burn wasn't fun, but he was determined.
He made a couple calls to his lawyer for Cait's sake and he knew that news would make her happy when he explained what had been going on. So, a text to her phone he was hoping to catch her in time to share news and a good brunch.
Cait had gotten the text while already on her way to his house. She'd wanted to surprise him, and in order to do so said she was just leaving her house when in fact she was only about 5 minutes away. They'd given her a new key, too, so when she got there she just walked right inside.
"Hellllo?" Drawing the word out, glancing around as she shut the door behind her. "Babe?"
"Hey!" his voice was still scratchy and hoarse but he stepped from the study and started toward the front door. His clothes were ill fitting as his 'diet' hadn't been the best over the past bit in the hospital but he was still dressed in the best.
"Hi!" Cait called out to him, moving to toss her bag on the kitchen counter. Her keys clattered against the granite countertop, then she moved to meet him wherever he was with a kiss. "Surprise," she laughed, heading towards him. "I was already on my way when you texted me."
He grinned and returned the kiss gladly. "Trying to be sneaky? I don't think your ninja skills are up to par yet." Deke seemed happy for the first time in some time and looped an arm around her, heading for the kitchen. "Omelette?" Asking on the way. "I am starving."
"No, probably not. I'll have to work on that." She laughed, wrapping her arm around his waist. "An omelette sounds great, actually. You sit down. I know you're the master chef, but I know how to make an omelette. Let me do this."
He shrugged, "Good looking Chef, yes please." He took a seat and watched her, the nearly empty glass on the counter in front of him. "Everything is in the fridge."
Cait went right to work, getting out the eggs and some veggies to mix in. While pulling things out of the fridge, she glanced at him over her shoulder and spied his glass. "Can I fill you up? What's..." brows knit together. "What's in the glass?"
"Orange Juice?" Lies and the smile proved it. "I had two fingers of Highland." The glass pushed aside, while he watched her. "I was going to have some juice with breakfast." Cause that negates early morning booze.
It would be overwhelmingly obvious that she was doing all she could to keep her cool right then. When she was absolutely sure she wasn't going to snap at him, Cait placed everything on the counter, got a bowl, and started cracking some eggs.
"You just got home from the hospital yesterday. I really don't think you should be drinking."
"Kyle said that same thing before he went home. I just had a little." He knew that look, and wasn't wanting to fight so he got up, walked to the sink and poured the last bit of it out. "Sorry."
"Thanks," was her clipped reply. Cait whipped the eggs in silence, then turned to set a pan on the burner at the stove. It impressed her that he dumped such an expensive drink down the drain, but she couldn't just let this slide. "Deacon...I think...I think you should talk to someone about how much you drink."
"What? I just dumped it." He watched her, and frowned at the tone. "I don't wanna damn fight, please."
"I'm not fighting." And she wasn't. She'd reigned in her initial anger, not wanting to get off to a bad start with him either. "I just want to talk to you about making a bit of a change. Why were you drinking at nine in the morning?"
"I haven't had anything in, like, however long?" He shrugged and leaned on the counter. "It's a habit, Cait. I don't know why I do it, other than I have been forever now." He frowned, first Kyle, now Cait.
Caitlin turned around to face him, chewing on her lower lip, ripping off dried skin. Actually, it was more like cracking open the tiny cuts she'd created back during all his time in the hospital when she'd chewed her lip raw. "But that's my point. You don't know why you do it. Maybe you should talk to someone who could help you find out. It's...it's not healthy. And frankly, I don't like it. You know how I feel about alcohol and why."
Brows went up a little. He wanted to talk about hanging around inns, and her friend's drinking but apparently they were not having an intervention. "And who would I talk to?" Was about the only thing he could come out with that didn't make him sound like a completely stark raving mad asshole. "Drinks with meetings. Drinks over lunch. It's been habit for years, maybe even before drinking age, if that's even a thing here."
"I don't know, babe. There are addiction counselors all over the place." Back to him now, adding the eggs and veggies to the pan.
"I'm not addicted." Spoken like a true addict. "The 'counselors' don't do anything except sit across from you and judge your lifestyle. If you aren't some broken down gutter trash junkie they feel they have power over, they just want to hand you a token and a bumper sticker."
"Says the man who turned to fifty year old Scotch before he's even had breakfast." She snorted, poking at the eggs unnecessarily with the spatula in her right hand.
"It's been hell, Cait." Literally. "You don't want me to drink, fine. I won't." He shrugged.
She didn't say 'don't drink', but wasn't about to correct him. "Okay, thanks." Deciding to keep the atmosphere light and nonchalant. "I'll introduce you to the wonders of coffee." She laughed, and suddenly remembered that she didn't--couldn?t drink coffee anymore. Too much caffeine.
Deke's doctors hadn't been ready for him to leave. Lacerated larynx, nicked arteries, a centimeter deeper and he'd be in hell, permanently. The crisp, white shirt was buttoned loosely at the neck, as they said don't put pressure on the wound. He was glad to be home away from don't do, and the whatever he wanted to do. Kyle'd bitched at him about his breakfast choice so he'd been sent 'home' and Deke stood near the liquor cabinet, having two fingers of Highland 50. The burn wasn't fun, but he was determined.
He made a couple calls to his lawyer for Cait's sake and he knew that news would make her happy when he explained what had been going on. So, a text to her phone he was hoping to catch her in time to share news and a good brunch.
Cait had gotten the text while already on her way to his house. She'd wanted to surprise him, and in order to do so said she was just leaving her house when in fact she was only about 5 minutes away. They'd given her a new key, too, so when she got there she just walked right inside.
"Hellllo?" Drawing the word out, glancing around as she shut the door behind her. "Babe?"
"Hey!" his voice was still scratchy and hoarse but he stepped from the study and started toward the front door. His clothes were ill fitting as his 'diet' hadn't been the best over the past bit in the hospital but he was still dressed in the best.
"Hi!" Cait called out to him, moving to toss her bag on the kitchen counter. Her keys clattered against the granite countertop, then she moved to meet him wherever he was with a kiss. "Surprise," she laughed, heading towards him. "I was already on my way when you texted me."
He grinned and returned the kiss gladly. "Trying to be sneaky? I don't think your ninja skills are up to par yet." Deke seemed happy for the first time in some time and looped an arm around her, heading for the kitchen. "Omelette?" Asking on the way. "I am starving."
"No, probably not. I'll have to work on that." She laughed, wrapping her arm around his waist. "An omelette sounds great, actually. You sit down. I know you're the master chef, but I know how to make an omelette. Let me do this."
He shrugged, "Good looking Chef, yes please." He took a seat and watched her, the nearly empty glass on the counter in front of him. "Everything is in the fridge."
Cait went right to work, getting out the eggs and some veggies to mix in. While pulling things out of the fridge, she glanced at him over her shoulder and spied his glass. "Can I fill you up? What's..." brows knit together. "What's in the glass?"
"Orange Juice?" Lies and the smile proved it. "I had two fingers of Highland." The glass pushed aside, while he watched her. "I was going to have some juice with breakfast." Cause that negates early morning booze.
It would be overwhelmingly obvious that she was doing all she could to keep her cool right then. When she was absolutely sure she wasn't going to snap at him, Cait placed everything on the counter, got a bowl, and started cracking some eggs.
"You just got home from the hospital yesterday. I really don't think you should be drinking."
"Kyle said that same thing before he went home. I just had a little." He knew that look, and wasn't wanting to fight so he got up, walked to the sink and poured the last bit of it out. "Sorry."
"Thanks," was her clipped reply. Cait whipped the eggs in silence, then turned to set a pan on the burner at the stove. It impressed her that he dumped such an expensive drink down the drain, but she couldn't just let this slide. "Deacon...I think...I think you should talk to someone about how much you drink."
"What? I just dumped it." He watched her, and frowned at the tone. "I don't wanna damn fight, please."
"I'm not fighting." And she wasn't. She'd reigned in her initial anger, not wanting to get off to a bad start with him either. "I just want to talk to you about making a bit of a change. Why were you drinking at nine in the morning?"
"I haven't had anything in, like, however long?" He shrugged and leaned on the counter. "It's a habit, Cait. I don't know why I do it, other than I have been forever now." He frowned, first Kyle, now Cait.
Caitlin turned around to face him, chewing on her lower lip, ripping off dried skin. Actually, it was more like cracking open the tiny cuts she'd created back during all his time in the hospital when she'd chewed her lip raw. "But that's my point. You don't know why you do it. Maybe you should talk to someone who could help you find out. It's...it's not healthy. And frankly, I don't like it. You know how I feel about alcohol and why."
Brows went up a little. He wanted to talk about hanging around inns, and her friend's drinking but apparently they were not having an intervention. "And who would I talk to?" Was about the only thing he could come out with that didn't make him sound like a completely stark raving mad asshole. "Drinks with meetings. Drinks over lunch. It's been habit for years, maybe even before drinking age, if that's even a thing here."
"I don't know, babe. There are addiction counselors all over the place." Back to him now, adding the eggs and veggies to the pan.
"I'm not addicted." Spoken like a true addict. "The 'counselors' don't do anything except sit across from you and judge your lifestyle. If you aren't some broken down gutter trash junkie they feel they have power over, they just want to hand you a token and a bumper sticker."
"Says the man who turned to fifty year old Scotch before he's even had breakfast." She snorted, poking at the eggs unnecessarily with the spatula in her right hand.
"It's been hell, Cait." Literally. "You don't want me to drink, fine. I won't." He shrugged.
She didn't say 'don't drink', but wasn't about to correct him. "Okay, thanks." Deciding to keep the atmosphere light and nonchalant. "I'll introduce you to the wonders of coffee." She laughed, and suddenly remembered that she didn't--couldn?t drink coffee anymore. Too much caffeine.