#being cozy and everything but i can't writs smut

[seenthisepisode]

whatever you do don't think about stanford era dean remembering his last birthday with his mom. he barely remembers because he was four and now he is in a bar in the middle of nowhere, maine and the fog on his brain and the buzz in his ears makes it even harder to focus but he tries, he tries so hard to rememeber the pattern on the dress mary was wearing that january day 20 years ago when she put that cake (strawberry and chocolate?) with four candles on the kitchen table. he remembers the bright winter sun outside and he swears there were a few other kids from his kindergaden around the table but he can't put a name to a face but he knows he wasn't alone and alone is all he feels right now. it's pathetic but he already tried to call john and sam. even though they're the ones who were supposed to call him, he thinks bitterly, and it's stupid, birthdays are stupid, it's a meaningless day, but he feels more abandoned than ever, sitting in some hole, wasting the last of his money for the cheapest beer. it's cold outside and john took the car so he stays in the bar; he thinks about playing pool but he already is seeing double so it's a non option. everything is dark and smells horribly and the bartender looks like he will kick him out pretty soon so he straightens up and tries to put a neutral expression on his face. he stumbles out of the bar a few hours later, a wreck, and sits on the nearest bench he finds, the river is rushing somewhere nearby, he can hear it, or maybe its the alcohol buzzing in his ears, he doesn't know, but he sits himself on that old broken bench under a crooked streetlamp and hides his face in his hands.

(oh, its a fic on ao3 now!)