Adam goes home drunk a little too early. Sarah is just walking past with Daphne when he comes in. He stumbles past their shoes, almost falls into Sarah. She pushes him away, takes Daphne to bed. Adam gets to the kitchen. Can't find the glasses. Can't find the water.

"Get out."

Adam turns around. She's standing there, round eyes misty. Adam lifts a hand. "Sarah—"

"Get out of this house," she whispers. She walks around the counter, not letting him come any closer. "Get out. Don't come back until you're sober."

Adam laughs, tries to get around the counter. "It's my house."

"Get out," Sarah says. Her hands shake. Adam has never been violent like his father. Never. But she doesn't know him like she thought she did.

Adam lifts his hands in surrender. "I'm just going to sleep."

"No, you're not. You're getting out of this house."

"Fuck you, Sarah. New boyfriend and you're back to the bitch—"

Sarah's eyes fill with tears. "Get out of this house, Adam."

"And go where?" Adam slurs, flinging his hand towards the door. He moves around the counter; she moves around the counter away from him.

"I don't care. Sleep in your car. Go to Nyx. Just get out."

Adam laughs. "Right. Nyx."

Sarah hopes Daphne can't hear them. "I'll call her for you. She'll come get you."

"Why the fuck would you even have her number?"

Peter gave it to Sarah. She'd told him that Eris had helped her with a few things, and she wanted to be able to contact her if she had questions. But that wasn't exactly the truth. Yes, Sarah liked Eris' advice and wanted to keep it close, but Eris had also said she'd make sure nobody hurt Daphne, and Sarah wanted to be able to call her if anything happened.

Sarah reaches for her phone. Adam lunges across the table, tries to knock it out of her hands. "Don't you dare call her."

"Get out of this house, Adam," Sarah says shakily. "It's her or the cops."

"I'm going to go to sleep," Adam insists, trying is best to keep his words separate. "I'll say goodnight to Daphne—"

"No. Get out. Get out of here—"

"She's my fucking daughter. You can't play god with my fucking daughter." He moves to the hallway.

"You will not—" Sarah darts out from the counter and gets in front of Adam. Pushes him back. "Do not go in there."

Adam pushes her away. She pushed him first. She stumbles into the hallway. Tears are running down her face, over her neck. She reaches for his shoulders, pushes him with all her might. Tries to get him to go back down the hallway. Get away from Daphne.

"Move, Sarah."

"No." It's a whimper, soft, quiet, just like Adam's mother.

"Fuck you," Adam spits. He won't hit her. He won't push by her. But he'll do his damage. "Fuck you and your mindless fucking personality—god you're so fucking stupid, Sarah."

Tears race down her cheeks, over her eyes. Adam goes back down the hallway, throws something against the counter. It shatters. Something else gets thrown.

Sarah slides down the wall, fumbling for her phone. Her fingers shake. Eris' number. That precious, lovely compilation of numbers. She clicks on it.

"Fucking bitch," Adam shouts, throwing an empty bottle of gin he kept under the sink.

There's a modelling agency partying at Nyx tonight. Eris took an Italian up to the penthouse, where he has her pressed in between him and the kitchen counter. The phone vibrates on the counter a few feet away, and she doesn't notice at first. Too much tongue, but it keeps her busy. She lifts his shirt over his head, stumbles with him into the wall next to the hallway. The phone keeps ringing. The Italian works his way down her neck, so Eris glances at the phone. Some unknown number, but it has Adam's area code.

Eris pushes the Italian away, picks up the phone.

"Are you kidding?" he says.

Adam throws a potted plant at that awful, expensive piano he bought for Sarah. It crashes in the background of the phone call, and Eris tries to catch her breath as she strains her hearing.

"Hello?"

There's the sound of whimpering, somebody crying softly. Eris walks away from the Italian, trying to hear. "Who is this?"

"Sarah," she sobs. "I didn't know what to do."

Eris hears something massive get pushed over. It's the piano. Adam's kicked it sideways, and it's so new and unused that it slides a little before it smashes against the wall.

"I didn't know what to do," Sarah repeats, voice cracking.

Eris grabs the Italian's wrist and her keys, holding the phone still. She opens the door, shoves the Italian out. Sprints down the hallway.

Daphne comes out of her room, and Sarah shakes her head. She shoves Daphne back into the room, closes the door.

"Mommy?" Daphne asks through the door.

Eris starts the Maserati. The phone keeps the line open as she drives.

Sarah falls back against Daphne's door, keeping it shut. She doesn't listen to the sounds in the living room. He's knocked over a bookshelf. The pages are sliding across the house. He's torn the poster of the planets off the wall.

The Maserati makes that low purr as it switches gears. Sarah listens to it shift as she drives. Every second, that car is getting closer. It'll all be over then. Eris knows how to deal with everything. Eris can fix it.

Adam's cracked his head on the bookshelf. Blood streams down the side of his face. The Maserati turns, shifts. It's coming.

Adam rips apart the poster of the planets. It doesn't matter, because he's an alcoholic. It doesn't matter, because he's his father, and Sarah and Eris are his mother. It doesn't matter, because he broke his daughter's wrist in two places. Nothing really matters.

Sarah feels mucus and snot in her sinuses, feels tears slide down her throat. She hears the Maserati as it pulls up. The door is open. Adam didn't lock it behind him.

Eris doesn't hurry or panic, but she takes the steps all at once. Pushes open the door. It doesn't take long to find him.

Sarah covers her ears in front of Daphne's door. She's stupid, she's an idiot. She's useless. She's nothing. She can't hear it anymore.

Adam has his arm back like a pitcher when Eris wrenches the vase from his hand. He knows that's too tall to be Sarah, too bold. He knows it's that person that tore his very character apart, and he knows this person, he can hit. He drives his elbow back, but she catches it, holds his wrist close to her heart. She wraps both arms around his body, so he forces both of them into the counter behind her. He slips, falls to the ground. She comes with him.

Adam feels tears on his face. Feels them run down his neck. He tries to get away from her, but she's a lot stronger than she looks. She laces her hands together over his chest, pushes her foot against the wall in front of her and her back against the counter behind her. Holds them both in place like that on the floor.

He wrestles with her hands, knocks his head back to hers. She holds tight, closes her eyes. Leans her head into his back.

He lets out a sob, broken and drunk. Tears fall to the floor, soaking her hands. He tries to breathe in, but he's stuck in this silent scream, trying to breathe. He stops pushing and moving. Just stops so he can breathe.

There's blood on Eris' right hand, where she slid it across his face. She can feel it there, warm. It starts to dry, fusing to her skin. Her brother's—

Eris shakes her head against his back. Keeps her eyes closed. It's coming down her arm now. Just let go. Wipe it off.

Adam's head is bent to the floor, looking at her hands intertwined on his stomach. He reaches out for them. Curls his hand around them.

Her brother's—

Eris shuts her eyes tightly. It drips down her arm, onto the floor. It's just blood.

Somebody lets out a sob of pain, but Eris isn't sure if it's her brother or Adam.

Sarah covers her ears, back to Daphne's door. She rocks back and forth, willing it to go away.

Adam rolls his head back, and it hits the counter behind him. He keeps his fingers twisted into hers, knotted. Holds them so tightly they get cold.

Eris lifts her head. Everything in the house is silent, still. The blood on her arm is drying. It's okay.

Her fingers loosen. He breathes, slow, careful, like he might puncture something if he breathes too fast. Look at this, he thinks. Like father like son.

Eris rests her chin on his shoulder, breathes deeply. Sarah keeps her hands covered over her ears.

Eris breaks apart her hands, and he takes one in each of his. Holds them tight. Blood drips onto the ground.

It's like that for a long time, silent, still. The house is dark, the sky is dark. The moonlight glints against the oily paper of the planet poster. Over the mess. Dust from the piano flies about the room. Some of the keys are broken. There are little planet stickers on them, stuck on the notes. Earth for middle C, a neutral sound.

Eris is the first to move. She takes her hand away, lets the pressure on her foot go. She threads her arms under his. Helps to lift him to his feet.

He doesn't feel drunk anymore. He wishes he did.

"Get in the car," Eris says. Sarah can't hear it. Can't hear his footsteps over the floor and opening the door. She still has her hands to her ears.

Eris calls Peter. He answers on the first ring. The house is silent, still. Come to Sarah's house, she says. He comes.

Eris sits outside on the front steps for him. When the Audi pulls in front of the house, Eris glances over at the shape of Adam in the Maserati. The concrete of the stairs is cold on her calves. As Peter walks up the stairs, Eris walks down. Sarah only takes her hands off her ears when Peter whispers to her that they're gone. He picks her up. Carries her to her bed, pulls the blankets up to her shoulders. He goes to the living room, picks up the bookcase.

Eris gets in the Maserati. His breath has fogged up the windows. She starts it, backs out. The blood dries on her arm.

Nobody occupies the roads but that car. They've parted for them, made sure the drive back to Nyx is quiet, calm, still.

She parks the Maserati in her spot. She doesn't get out.

Adam stares at the dash. He can smell that classy pine, can hear the words in her mouth from court. Alcoholics, addicts, bones in two places.

Eris opens the door. Opens his door. Doesn't get near him as he gets out.

He follows her into Nyx, up the stairs, past the doors and the key cards. She opens the door to the penthouse, lets him through.

Adam feels cold, dark. His head stings and his heart is broken. He doesn't know who he is anymore. He isn't sure if he ever did.

The penthouse lights start up from his movement as she locks the door behind her. She catches the blood on her arm, closes her eyes and ignores it.

Adam turns around. He wants her to put her arms over his neck, kiss his head and tell him he isn't all those things she told the court he was. He wants to curl into her and hear her say that this isn't his fault. He needs her to.

Eris walks over to the liquor cabinet. Pulls out a full bottle of gin. It makes a loud noise as it connects with the counter. She takes her keys and throws them next to the bottle.

"Seven more of these downstairs," she says. She looks up at him, both hands on the counter. She doesn't look like someone who's going to console him. She doesn't look nice or kind of any of the things Adam wants her to be right now.

She slides the bottle to his side of the counter as she stands. Says sharply, "Enjoy killing yourself." She moves around the counter, walks down the hallway as she says, "Break whatever you want. Just don't wake me up."

Adam watches her door close. He glances at the bottle of gin. There's so much of it. Seven bottles of freedom and forgetting. He walks closer to it. Watches the liquid sparkle. He reaches out to it. Pops the cap.