"No," she says gently, reaching for him. She wants to hold him close, but first she's got to take care of him. "I'm already worried. Sit." Annie guides him towards the couch, and is already looking for the large fluffy blanket to wrap him in.

"D'you want tea? Something... Something stronger?" She wasn't a big drinker, but there was alcohol in the flat. He looked like shit, and she was going to be damned if she didn't take care of him tonight. After all, how many times had he made her tell him what was wrong, sat with her all night?