Bad Things

2. Shattered Innocence

I wake up, it's a bad dream

No one on my side

I was fighting

But I just feel too tired

To be fighting

Guess I'm not the fighting kind

- Keane.

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After Shawn got a grip on himself, he brushed his teeth with his finger, swished mouthwash around in his mouth three different times to erase the taste that could only be described as ass, and combed his fingers through his hair. When he made his way down the stairs, he found Alex sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, a bowl of cereal in front of him and his face buried in a sports magazine.

"Well, good morning, Sun—"

"Call me Sunshine and you'll have one less nut," Shawn said.

"Touchy, touchy." Alex took another bite of his cereal.

Shawn groaned and lowered his head to rest on his crossed arms. The pounding felt like someone was using his skull for drum practice. "I feel like hell. Why'd you make me do all those shots?"

"You shouldn't make bets you can't win." Alex chuckled and pushed a bottle of water and some Advil across the counter. "Lightweight."

"You know I don't usually drink." Shawn fussed with the bottle of pain reliever until the child-proof cap finally popped opened. He dumped two into his palm and downed them both with water. The liquid hit his stomach and immediately made it start to churn. He grimaced and laid his head back down. He needed to remember this feeling, commit it to memory in case he ever had even a fleeting thought of being such a colossal moron again. No drinking. Ever.

"Could have fooled me. But you seemed like you were having fun. Especially during the latter portion of the night."

Shawn peered over at Alex, still keeping his head down. "What do you mean?"

"You know." He tipped his bowl up to drink the milk left in the bottom. "With the little brunette. Dude, I didn't think you'd ever come up for air." Alex got up and walked across the kitchen to deposit his bowl in the sink. "I've never seen you so all over a chick."

Shawn felt the heat drain from his face. He'd still harbored the slight fantasy that he'd imagined everything. Alex just shot that dream all to hell.

"Hey, man," Alex said, and moved closer. "You all right? You're not gonna puke, are you?"

Shawn drew in a breath and forced his rising panic to stop. "No. I'm just ... I don't remember much." And what he did remember, he wanted so badly not to be true.