Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss's.
A/N: Originally written for Fag End's Halloween 2014 Zombie Uprising challenge for the prompt "Lines on Ale."
Spike steadies her while she pukes her brains out in the gutter, one hand around her waist and one at her shoulder that also holds her ponytail out of the splash zone. She's on her knees and can hardly hear him talking over the noise of her own heaving. The alcohol burns her nose even worse on the way up than it did going down.
Now her insides hate her as much as the IRS or whoever the tax people are, not to mention that exploding demon and whoever upstairs thought it was fine to just make her live retail hell over and over and over and over and over and over and…
Everything is just too hard right now. She can't even sit up straight without Spike helping her and she's supposed to come up with money and be productive and go back to school?
She retches again and Spike says something along the lines of 'there you go, luv' or 'let it go, luv' and everything spins around them, out of her control, and even if nothing else goes right again ever, at least she doesn't have to worry about adding any debt-inducing alcoholism on top of their problems.
She's just going to have to find another way of wallowing, because she is way done with the drowning.