"I've had a wonderful evening - but this wasn't it." ~Groucho Marx

TRIGGER WARNING: DRUGS
Euan’s knuckles were white from the vice-like grip he had at the edge of the basin in the men’s room of the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn’t recognise the reflection staring back at him. It wasn’t him, it was someone he knew a long, long time ago and had never wanted to meet again. His dark eyes were blank, almost dead looking and there was a slow blink, the only thing to break the monotony of the length of time he had been standing there, an internal tug-of-war battle churning on the inside, but nothing but flat numbness on the outside.

( He picked up the silver hip flask sitting on the top of the vanity counter and threw back the remaining scotch in the bottom of it, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand... )

Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)