Work Text:
Travis laid on his couch trying not to think about anything at all. Downing one alcoholic drink after another in a desperate attempt to keep his mind quiet.
It doesn't work. It never does.
Travis stared up at the ceiling as the world swam around him.
His family's wolf problem had been taken care of and everyone made it out relatively unscathed. He should be happy. He should feel…better.
What was he supposed to do now? What was his purpose, his reason for living?
What use did he even have?
For the past six years his only driving force was protecting his family and finding a cure for their curse.
And now it was over. What is he supposed to do now? What was his purpose? Who even was he?
Who was Travis Hackett?
Who was the man that carried that name before this nightmare started?
He couldn't remember.
Useless
He was completely useless now.
No purpose
He has no purpose anymore. He's no longer needed.
He really should just end it, shouldn't he?
Sure, he'd be missed but they'd all move on.
Dumbass
Yeah, he had to agree with that. He was a fucking dumbass.
Travis sat up and immediately regretted that decision. He sat there a moment to let the world come to a stop before he tried to get up. He pushed himself off of the couch and stumbled his way into the kitchen to grab another beer or bottle. Whatever he could get his hands on really.
Travis supposes he'll live another day.
Just one more.
One more.