My Reflection Offers No Apology

[Taylor McCarthy]

{OOC Note:  Takes place the morning after this thread}


Taylor pushed open the door to the modest duplex he'd been renting since his return to the States and stepped inside.  He quietly closed the door behind him while being mindful of the tray carrying the two large coffees and the fast food bag held in one hand.  He'd managed to make an escape this morning without disturbing the drunk bastard buried under a heap of blankets on his couch.  The night hadn't seen Taylor's brother, Jack, in the best of conditions.  By the time Taylor managed to pinpoint which bar his brother was sitting outside of the situation had gone from bad to worse.  Still, Taylor understood more than Jack would ever give him credit for.  The elder McCarthy wasn't even going to bother with giving the junior crap about throwing up in his car.

"Hey."  Taylor said, putting the fast food down on the coffee table and giving the pile of blankets on his couch a nudge.  "Nap time's over."  Despite the curt, abrupt nature of his words there was a faint trace of softness to Taylor's voice.  He wasn't about to heap more grief onto his brother especially since he fully expected Jack to be in the throes of a serious hangover.  At least, he would be if he hadn't thrown up so damn much the night before.

"It's almost noon."  Taylor continued, moving into his kitchen to retrieve a bottle of Gatorade, then the bathroom to snatch the entire bottle of ibuprofen.  This wasn't his first trip to the Hangover Rodeo.  "C'mon."  He said once he'd returned to the living room and gave the pile of blankets another poke.  "You'll feel worse if you don't eat something."

[Jack McCarthy]

“Urgggg” Came a soft almost zombie like moan emitted from beneath the ball of blankets as something clearly started to stir from beneath the blankets slowly like a machine slowly starting to him into life. Oh no, Jack thought bitterly as a fuzzy blurred version of the world flooded back into his vision as his faithful companion, his constant migraine put his brain in it’s customary “Good morning” vice grip that Jack had become used to in recent times. Why did he have to be woken up? The waking world really wasn’t where Jack wanted to be these days. It was such an unattractive prospect. Consciousness, in general, went hand in hand with being conscious of pain, migraines, loneliness and general lack of self-worth. He wanted to just sleep forever


Or at least, until he didn’t want to scream out loud every minute of every day he groggily came to his senses not daring to poke his head out of the covers knowing exactly that, was comparative to rubbing salt in his eyes. Jack stayed in his ball grunting and hunt trying to get his barrings. “Did you shit in my mouth? It feels like you shat in my mouth” He moaned


Ok...Ok...Clearly he was at Taylor’s place, that was clear...but the question was how did he get there….there was a big burly gap in his memory from last night….So this was….curious


“...Did I text you last night?”

[Taylor McCarthy]

"You're lucky I didn't." Taylor shot back as he plopped down on the chair beside the couch. He leaned forward and started digging into the fast food bag, pulling out a paper wrapped breakfast sandwich before settling back into the chair. "You threw up in my car." He said, his eyes locked upon the heap on the couch while he unwrapped the sandwich. "And on the front walk." The wrapper found itself wadded up and tossed back into the bag. "And on the carpet there right inside the door." Taylor took a bite of the sandwich and gestured toward a large discolored spot on the floor where he'd scrubbed the vomit from last night. "Shitting in your mouth would be letting you off easy."

A snort escaped at Jack's second, and more reasonable question. Taylor's head shook and he gave a long, slow sigh, chewing his bite of greasy breakfast sandwich for a moment. "Yeah, you did." He answered finally. "That's why you're here instead of jail or laying in some alley downtown." He leaned forward again, tugging on the corer of the fast food bag to inch it closer to Jack. "Come on. Eat something or you'll get sick again."

[Jack McCarthy]

“Bed” Jack couldn’t help but grunt almost instinctively at Taylor’s words despite, every word feeling like his tongue wasn’t about to disintegrate at any possible moment. “Always poop in the bed”. Like the godfather, with the horses head…..It’s classy like that” Jack said, his voice slowly losing steam as he spoke already regretting starting to speak, but obviously he really couldn’t let that go. It was ruled one of the Mccarthy playbook after all “But it was comforting that you didn’t” he eventually admitted actually finding the strength to sit up just a little but the blankets still covering his head


“Oh…” That was all he could say once Taylor told him of his adventures from the night before “My record is five times, in one night…..Layla’s last birthday…..” He nodded “I need to do somewhere so much better….thanks, I guess….


With the covers over his head, he couldn’t see the food but the smell lingers in his nostrils which caused his stomach to heave just a little at the thought of eating “Nope, no way….I can’t…”

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor simply looked at Jack, watching while the junior McCarthy's inane ramblings slowed and finally came to a halt. By now Taylor was used to Jack going on about subjects such as poop. Jack, love him or hate him, still seemed as though he was living in a world where everyone had the mentalities of five year olds. One day, Taylor assumed, Jack would have to do some semblance of growing up but he doubted that was in the cards for this morning.

"At least get the pills and some Gatorade down." Taylor countered, nodding toward the two bottles he'd set on the coffee table. "It'll help make you feel better." Yes, it was safe to say the morning after had brought with it more than a hint of clarity. Taylor wasn't going to give his brother anymore grief for the events of the night before as they'd obviously been the reactions of a bitter, heartbroken man. Taylor knew a thing or two about that even if he had dealt with the feelings of loss with drastically different methods. Jack may have been acting like a drunken ass but he was family and if he needed someone around then Taylor was going to be it.