It has been a horrible few days for Hope, and she's not even going through what her boyfriend is. She's been trying to help out where she can, without stepping on anyone's toes or getting in the way. Mostly, she's been staying at the hospital with Laura so that the Cornett children could make the arrangements for their father. She's gotten to know the woman well during Laura's more lucid moments, and she promised the woman she'd try to keep Bobby out of trouble.
Which may be hard to do, as Bobby has gone home. But on this dark, rainy morning, she knows she will be seeing him soon. Today is the funeral, and she's at home preparing for it, both physically with a somber choice of clothing, and mentally coaching herself to be strong for the Cornett family.
With all the time that he spends in and around bars, it is rare for the eldest Cornett sibling to drink. Alcohol does bad things to people, something he has to deal with on a nightly basis. Yet, when push comes to shove, he finds himself resorting to the same thing as all those people that he judges so harshly. It has been difficult to reach the man since news of his father's passing with the only real appearance he's made being at the wake. Self destruction is rarely pretty.
Drinking and driving is evil and something that should never happen, yet he is as guilty of that as others recently. The items needed for the funeral are actually stowed inside the bright yellow Xterra, for whenever he actually motivates himself to get ready. The man is not hung over, not in the least bit. Robert Allen Cornett is still drunk. His right hand is bruised and badly swollen, most likely broken yet without medical attention. His eyes are bloodshot, his expression grim. So what is a drunken fighter to do on this horrible day? The only thing he can think of to do: he stands outside the home of his girlfriend, the wonderful woman that he's been treating so poorly. Yes, in the pouring rain. At least he doesn't have a bottle in his hand. The man continues to stand there, back and forth about alerting her to his presence before he finally brings his hand to slap at her buzzer.
The sound of the buzzer causes her to jump a little. Hope glances at the clock in her bedroom, hastily throws a camisole on, and goes to answer the door. Her apartment is secure enough to have a buzzer, but not to much as to give her a peep hole. Still, she presses the button on the intercom without asking who it is, because she's not exactly thinking straight at the moment.
Hey, the less he needs to speak at the moment, the better. He initially pondered breaking in or just letting himself in as he actually can do such things, but this just seemed more appropriate. Robert does enter without even attempting to notify her of what the situation is. Before too long he's at her front door. One solid knock is given before his arm returns to hanging loosely from his side. It could always be worse; he could be a vampire.
When she opens the door, she just blinks. "Bobby?" He's got a key! Why is he buzzing? Hope chocks it up to him being in a state due to his father's death. The door opens wide and she lets him enter as he wishes. Subconsciously she runs her hands down over her camisole and skirt, trying to ensure that it's picture perfect for him. "I am so, /so/ sorry about what happened to your father. If you need anything, just let me know, alright? I'll take care of it." Since she's already been through the death of a loved one before.
He just stands outside of her door, looking at her. Nothing is said as he does so, those bloodshot eyes actually looking into hers instead of what she's wearing. Robert is not being a pervert, he simply isn't being himself. Finally he will step inside, his everything dripping wet. As he walks past Hope she won't be able to deny the strong stench of alcohol. "You can get me a beer." It isn't intended as a joke even if it may come off as one. He doesn't look at her as he says this, instead focusing on something inside of her apartment, in the opposite direction. "And some silver bullets."
"How about a towel first," she says, concerned for him. Hope gives him a strange look, then disappears into her small bathroom to retrieve a large, fluffy towel, which she offers to him. "The bullets you can have when you've sobered up a little. I'm not letting you go off half cocked and get yourself killed because you're upset."
He actually doesn't look at her again until he finds himself holding a towel. The man just stands there, holding it, dripping onto her floor. "Why not? It isn't as if it will make things any worse." He then grabs the towel almost violently as he thinks about the outcome. "Besides, I won't be using them for a few days. But I have a feeling that I will them." The thought of offing his own mother causes his eyes to shimmer, the faint hint of tears hitting those reddened eyes. Only now is his hand even remotely visible to her. "And I sure as hell want to be drunk for that."
When he doesn't move to dry himself, she takes the towel from him. Then she starts to dry him off. "Undress," she says. It's a bit of an order, and in no way because she wants to see him naked. It's mostly just so he'll stop dripping on her floor. "You can go in the room if you want. I still have some of your things here, and we're going to get you dry before you get pneumonia. Then we will discuss why you feel the need to be drunk, instead of dealing with your grief."
If she's surprised at all by his actions she really does not deal much with drunken people. Bobby shrugs out of his jacket, then his over jacket. Then off comes his shirt, showing off all of his muscley glory. It also reveals quite a bit of bruising from the fights he has been getting into. He kicks off his shoes and begins unbuckling his belt. "Drunk is a much better alternative," he comments as he finally strips down to his boxers. And socks, of course. "You don't want to know what's going on. And this is my only other outlet."
Hope winces at the bruising, gently caressing each one to check the tenderness of them. "Bobby, being drunk is /never/ the better alternative. Of course I want to know what's going on. Even if we weren't dating, we're /friends/, and after all you've done for me, I am /here/ for you." Her voice is smooth with concern, and stern due to the fear. Still, she carefully begins to dry him off, trying to keep her eyes averted.
"It's nothing," he says as she looks at his bruising. "And I'm covered in all the places you should worry about. Nothing to shy away from." That's at least why he believes that she's averting her eyes. Robert shakes his head, as if disagreeing with something that he's not commenting on. "Well, let's see. My sister ran off into hiding or whatever, left me a strange note about it, and is nowhere to be found when we need her the most. I later find out that she was battling vampires and stuff and she blames the attack on herself for whatever she was involved in. I find this out the same day that Dad dies, and then learn that Mom is most likely going to become a werewolf." There, he said it, the whole time looking at Hope. "And you think that I don't need a beer?"
"Except," Hope points out, "that we're not exactly at the nearly nude stage of our relationship." Clearing her throat, she looks at him, and continues to dry him off. "Wait, /what/? How does someone become a werewolf from a rabid wolf attack? Think about it, Bobby, it doesn't make any sense." She skips over the hip and pelvic region, moving toward his legs. "I'm sorry that all of this is falling on your shoulders. Let me help you carry the burden."
She's being too nice. It's not sitting well with him. He is angry, exceedingly angry, but not at her. Never at her. "We could be. I'm surprised you didn't see me in my boxers before, when I was staying here." He doesn't even try to make it sound perverted or ask the same of her. He just isn't like that. Robert shakes his head, then, as his good hand holds the broken one. Sobering up, even slightly, means that he's actually feeling pain. "Only they were attacked by a werewolf." Crazy as it may seem, he looks deadly serious. "I do not doubt what I was told. At all. And now, on the next full moon, we get to see what happens to Mom."
"Werewolves don't exist!" Hope is adamant about that, because if werewolves exist, the world is in a lot more danger than she thought it was before. But then she's blushing, and looking up at him from her position of drying his right shin. "But if they do, and if you need me there with you, I will be. I need some time to think on things, but I really care about you, Bobby, and I don't want you to do something stupid like get drunk, drive, and kill someone. You'd never be able to forgive yourself."
Were it anyone else saying this he would snap. He's really on the verge of snapping as it is, but he just doesn't want to do it to her. "They do exist. I have a good source that I would trust with my life. Like how I feel about you." Drunken Bobby is not going to hold back on what he says. "I'm scared, Hope. Vampires, werewolves, witches, psychics I'm starting to believe that we're the minority. Things like what happened to your sister can happen more often." Of course, he has no idea about any of the recent events. "I've already been drinking, and driving, and near killing people. Why not turn it up a notch?"
He may be scared, but the truth is, he's scaring /her/ with what he's saying. Hope pops back up to her full height, and just looks at him silently for a moment. Then she raises a hand to slap him. Hard. "Robert Cornett! Do you want to spend the rest of your life in /jail/? Do you want to leave me? Leave your sisters? Knowing what a dangerous world this is, learning that we might be the minority, and you want to take away the only person that makes us feel safe at all? Damn it all, Bobby, I love you, but you're acting like a real stupid jerk right now."
People he cares about seem to love slapping him as of late. Robert would react by returning the favor if he didn't have at least some sliver of control. Instead he looks as if he's going to cry. "But who do I turn to when I need to feel safe?" He isn't a vampire, he isn't a witch and all he can do is throw his fists around. "Fighting is what I do, Hope. This is why I make a point not to drink in the first place. You know when I last spoke with my father? Years ago. I just can't handle that easily." He stares at her, his head tilted ever slightly. "… you do?"
"You turn to me. You turn to your family. You turn to the people who care about you. You don't turn to the bottle." Hope doesn't care about the fighting, she's accepted that it's part of who he is. It's why he has the job that he does. "Do you want to turn into one of those jerks that were hitting on your sister the other night at the Warehouse? I know /I/ don't want to see you become someone like that." She exhales a sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Parents are strange, Bobby. I'm sure he knew that despite your differences, you both still cared about each other deep down… and I'm sure he knew you were there for him at the end. That matters." She looks at the puddles on the floor, and then back at him. "Yeah… yeah, I do."
"It's hard to look for strength in those I want to be strong for." It just sounds odd to him, like something he's not used to. "I'm not like that. I'll never be like that. That's different. Even drunk I only go after those who deserve it." Beat. "Like Ivan." He places his hand on top of the one she has on his shoulder. It's his broken hand but he doesn't seem to mind. "Just how would you feel if something happened to your parents like that? It's hard, Hope. Like I failed him. I've failed everyone." There's a desire within Robert to reach out, to kiss her, but he does not. Not with the level of alcohol on his breath. "I don't think anyone has said that to me other than Chloe." His expression softens then, all because of this wonderful woman in front of him. "I knew the day I met you that I would fall in love with you, but I also know that I would never push that on you."
"Bobby, I watched one of my closest, dearest friends be torn apart by a vampire. I watched my sister's downward spiral because she couldn't deal with her grief. I don't think I could handle losing another person like that. You haven't failed me. You were protecting me even before you really knew me." Hope watches him silently, trying her best to be strong. It's something she's good at after spending two years being the stronger of the Tyler twins. "I know I'm the proverbial damsel in distress, but I also know how to be strong for those I care for. Let me be your strength right now, okay?"
The protector is his role, and where has he been lately? He doesn't even know what's going on with her family, with her. He has many things that he can say to her but in the end he just stands there looking sheepish. A hand rubs at the back of his neck as he considers the situation. "Okay." Robert has been robbed of his anger for the time being, allowing his grief to return. "Only in this, today. I don't want to go today. I'm just not ready to say goodbye." He'd actually be physically crying if it wasn't for being around her, in his boxes no less. "I… do you have a first aid kit?"
Without a word, Hope wraps him up in a hug. "Sweetie, in these situations I think it's safe to say that /no one/ is ready to say goodbye." She tilts her head to place a sweet little kiss on his cheek. "I do. I'll go get it, and we'll take care of that hand as best we can. Then you're going to shower, and brush your teeth and put on your clo— did you bring anything to change into? I can go get it for you if you need me to."
He counters her hug with one of his own, taking her up in his strong arms and holding on tightly. It may be uncomfortable due to his injuries but he doesn't care. Right now Robert just needs this and is going to be selfish. Even through this he chuckles, the first time he's laughed in days. "What? You don't think that showing up in my boxers is appropriate?" It might be, all things considered. Releasing his hold on Hope, Bobby nods. "Everything I need is in the car. I just wasn't willing to get ready yet. I… thank you, Hope."
"Then I'll be back in a few minutes with your things." Hope gives him a sad little smile. "I like your boxers, but I somehow think your sisters might be appalled by them. Not to mention everyone else. But let me get you that first aid kit, and then get your things so you can clean up." With that, she scoots to the bathroom, coming out with a rather large first aid kit. Larger than a girl like her could possibly ever need. "I'll be right back," she says, leaning down to search through his pockets for his keys. Then she opens the door and slips out to the car to grab his clothing, and whatever else he brought with him.
