and don't forget that there is someone up above

[confidenceman]

It's been a long time since Sawyer's turned steadily to drink. The Island never let a person run too far away from their troubles, not in this way. When you had to carefully pick and choose the things that were brought into your world, the conscious decision to avoid bringing vices was easier. There was no profit motive, nothing for the Island to gain from it. That just wasn't why anyone went there in the first place.

But here in Darrow, the bartenders are nothing but encouraging when they fill Sawyer's glass to the brim.

Being in the city's been difficult. He knows that his life on the Island was destroyed, razed down to the ground, and that there ain't any meaningful rebuilding of that to be had. It's the idea that there's been some other part to his life that he can't fully remember, a case of memories mostly beyond his reach, that has him drinking now. A complication that he didn't foresee, that he doesn't know how to process, and the only way to get him to stop thinking about it is to make it impossible to think at all.

"I need your keys," the bartender said, and Sawyer snorts in amusement before tossing over the keys to the truck he uses for construction work.

"Wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, anyway," he grits in reply before downing the rest of the glass.

Comments

[confidenceman]

Newt has all the look of a confused puppy stumbling over his water bowl, a child-like level of coordination that Sawyer meets halfway by pressing a palm against the guy's forehead to keep him still while Sawyer pushes his glasses back on. Not that it really matters, because there's no way that Newt's in shape to give reasonable taxes, so Sawyer simply grabs both receipts and adds a twenty percent tip. The server was decent, anyway, and the city drops enough in bank accounts per month that he's not going to miss out on any meals by coughing up Newt's share.

"Dimera Apartments," he sighs, rolling his eyes slightly before he gets to his feet, holding a hand out for Newt. He's curious to see how well the other man might be able to stand on his feet. Fortunately, he also seems like a small enough guy that Sawyer might be able to handle carrying the weight all the way back.

Since that's where he's headed, anyway.

"And you're in luck, 'cause that's where I live, too. You're treatin' next time, by the way. So get a damn job," he adds, lips mildly quirked.

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt blinks up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused, but at least he can see past a general blur now. He's half-aware of Sawyer slapping money down for both checks onto the bartop, and he makes a mental reminder that he already knows he'll forget to majorly take care of his new friend the next time they're out together, what a gentleman.

"That's the one," he says with a firm nod, reaching out for Sawyer's extended hand and he feels stable enough but that's before he actually puts one foot on the ground and nearly collapses on the spot. He lets out a snort, sloppily pushing himself up off the ground. He pokes at Sawyer's chest, leaning his head back way more than he really needs to so he can look up the guy. "It's a good thing I am so very much not going to remember this happened because wow, how embarrassing."

He takes a small step forward, and it's better, but the next one is a little more shaky. "You taking me home with you? You totally got me drunk on purpose, huh, dude?" He hiccups again then stops short, taking on a deceptively sober expression. "No but seriously, man, seriously. This is really cool of you because you could totally have like, y'know, left me here so thanks for being cool, you're a good friend. Yeah, you're my friend now, okay, deal with it because I'm so not leaving you alone after this."

[confidenceman]

It looks like Newt's legs are much faster to go when drunk than his mouth. Sawyer would try to muster the strength to be annoyed, but more than anything, he's trying to figure out the logistics of getting Newt home. He could call a cab, but it just feels like such an unnecessary cost when the apartment's not honestly all that far away, and also when he can't be sure whether or not Newt is the type of guy to feel nausea when moved too far after drinking. He snorts, slightly broken out of his thoughts when Newt starts babbling on and on about friendship and not leaving Sawyer alone, which... well, Sawyer doesn't think that kind of loyalty's possible to build after one night of drinking.

He could be wrong, though. And strangely finds that he wouldn't mind so much if he is.

"If you ain't gonna remember anything from tonight, then you probably ain't gonna remember much of my name or face, either," Sawyer points out with a slightly aggravated sigh, then gives a preemptive glare to those around him before crouching down and turning his back to Newt. "Get on. You can't even walk ten steps; I ain't interested in pulling your arm from its socket to get you home."

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt shakes his head so hard that it nearly makes him throw up. He takes a moment to compose himself, taking this time to trip back over to the bar to gulp down some water. He turns back to Sawyer with a goofy smile. "No, dude, I will totally remember, okay?" He taps at his temple and gives Sawyer a look that implies that he should clearly understand what Newt's trying to say. "I'm a genius. But if you wanna like, write your name down for me or whatever, I'll swing by with a fruit basket or something." He really wants to remember, he really does. If he's not going to get out of Darrow anytime soon, he wants to be able to make friends in a way he hadn't had the luxury to back at the 'Dome. He'd been way too busy, too focused on his work to care about what most people thought about him, not that he'd ever really felt lonely, he'd always had Hermann and he got way too much of a thrill out of being elbow-deep in kaiju to cry into his pillow about not having a million friends. Still, the fact that he might be making some here, now, is... Well, it's just nice.

He squints as Sawyer crouches down and even through the hazy cloud that is his mind, he's pretty sure this is a thing that has the potential to be so humiliating. But he's wobbling in place and is finding it hard to remember how to find his balance, so he practically falls forward onto Sawyer's back with a loud oof and drapes his arms over Sawyer's shoulders. "We never talk about this ever, 'kay?"

[confidenceman]

"I lived on a tropical island for years; I'm pretty sure I can do without a fruit basket," snorts Sawyer, though he appreciates the thought. Truth be told, he almost likes the thought of having Newt stick around in whatever fashion suits him, even though he can't quite break away from the thought that Newt would probably be better off without someone like Sawyer. Sometimes he's just a disaster waiting to happen, even though he likes to think that there's nothing in the city that would drive him to where he was only weeks ago.

Never say never, though.

Else, he never would have believed that he'd be one day toting around a drunken scientist on his back. If it were Jack, after all, he'd probably just drop the guy and make him walk it off.

"Sorry, can't hear you from back there," Sawyer says, teasing, before he hefts Newt higher and starts lumbering for the door, more than a few laughs following behind the both of them.