A/N: Was unsure about the rating. My first drabble, hurrah!

Some nights, he'll sit alone in the dark with a glass of whiskey and a fistful of pills, trying to imagine a place where there is no more pain, just a black, empty silence he can call home.

Other nights, he lets himself lay tangled in the sweat soaked sheets for hours on end, writhing and bucking in pain, because he needs to know if he's still alive enough to die.

He doesn't often remember his dreams, but the ones he can recall, he's drowning. Sometimes, he's falling.

The part that troubles him is he never wakes with a start.