[He edges around the couch, swallowing down acid from a stomach all too liquid by now. It's not pleasant, and somewhere in the part of his mind that even this abuse can't dampen down there's an awareness that this isn't a pleasant state to inflict on anyone else. But he's here now. He sits on the couch and by the time she comes back he's almost lying on it. It's an odd, uncomfortable angle, heels digging into the floor, head tipped back far enough to feel dizzy. Dizzier.]
hold my hand, ooh baby it's a long way down to the bottom of the river